angst ending 😈

Good Hunter was surprisingly busy on a Sunday morning. The people of Mondstadt took breakfast seriously. Back home, breakfast wasn't that big of a deal, and no one bothered to emphasize the whole 'most important meal of the day' shpeal. But here? The tables outside of Good Hunter and the tables inside were packed with people. The smell of fried eggs and sausage could be smelt from Springvale, and the hunters from there abandoned their breakfast to feast on apple cider and hashbrowns.

Such hustle and bustle was a perfect opportunity for a certain young boy to sneak another handful of cereal at the back of the restaurant.

Aren had adapted to this lifestyle for the past week or so. Every morning, after waking up and petting the cats at the back of the building, he would sneak into the Knights of Favonius HQ to shower (no easy feat, since a certain red-headed individual in cat pyjamas was usually walking around), grab his clothes from the washing line, hidden underneath baggier clothing to avoid raising suspicion, and duck into the stock room of Good Hunter to help himself to whatever Sara had left unlocked. Sometimes it was a few slices of buttered bread waiting to be delivered, or a bag of oranges.

Today he was lucky. Boxes of cereal had been left unattended on the table, and with the bowl of warm milk he had grabbed from a breakfast tray left in the KoF HQ, he had quite a splendid meal. He would have an apple on his way out of the city, and his day would officially begin.

The only bad thing about this morning was how frequently Sara dipped into the room to replenish her supply of eggs - every time the door opened, Aren would freeze, slowly retract his hand from the box of cereal and pray to every deity, past present and future, that she wouldn't need anything that was further back in the room. After a while, he was able to guess when and what she would come to get, and even left it a bit closer to the door for her. What a humble person he was.

When Aren had finished his breakfast, he dusted the cereal crumbs from his hands, carefully sealed the box and shoved the empty bowl behind a barrel of apple cider.

Now for the hard part: escape.

This feat was notoriously tricky every day, and it didn't seem to get any easier no matter how many times he perfected it. The journey from the barrels of beverages to the door was completely exposed. Should somebody enter while he was in the middle of exiting, he would be a deer caught in headlights. He had to time his escape perfectly, and not a second - no, a nanosecond - could be wasted.

Aren closed his eyes. He imagined Sara, dishing out breakfast to the citizens of Mondstadt. He willed his mind to focus on where she was, right now. If he got this wrong, any of it wrong, they'd find him, find him and send him right back home.

No matter what, Aren would not go home.

He crouched like a cat on the ground. In his head, he set off a countdown.

Three, two, one...

"That's what I was wondering! I seem to be running low on so many things these days, whether it be cereal boxes or apple cider...you don't think there are mice about, do you?"

"I don't know," said the other voice, and with a horrifying jolt, Aren realised that the voices came from outside the door. He froze in place - halfway to the door - and held his breath.

Pass the door. Pass the door. Please, somebody, distract them. Anybody distract them. Please.

The lock opened with a silent click.

Aren felt his mouth dry up like a desert.

The silence was deafening. Aren could hear his blood rushing in his ears, and his whole body seemed to vibrate.

Don't send me home. Don't send me home. Please don't send me home. Oh god, please don't send me home.

"Excuse me?" Sara gestured for her companion to wait at the door. She walked over to Aren, who had since backed himself against the far wall, and stared at him with her arms folded over her chest. "Who are you, and what are you doing here?"

"I-...I...I was hungry."

"You were hungry?" Sara was unimpressed. "So you've been helping yourself to my stock for how long now? One week? Two? Instead of you to come and pay for food, y'know, good, cooked food, you've been stealing the scraps from the stock room like a mouse?"

Aren's notorious silver tongue seemed to fail him. I'm sorry, he wanted to say. Look, I'm sorry, but please don't send me home.

Sara regarded him with a contemplative look. "Are you even from Mondstadt? You don't look like a Mondstadter."

"Yes," he lied. "I'm from Mondstadt."

"Reeeeally?" Sara raised an eyebrow. Aren had a feeling that he had caught himself in a tale he couldn't get out of, like a fly in a spiderweb. He could only tangle himself deeper into the lie. "What's the name of the festival that us Mondstadters celebrate? Y'know, since you're from Mondstadt?"

Aren swallowed air. Festivals...he only knew Krsnik Noc, and that was Snezhnayan. What festivals could a Mondstadter celebrate? Wind festival? Dandelion festival?

"That's what I thought," said Sara. "How old are you, anyway?"

"Ten," he mumbled. Sara bent closer, cupping a hand over her ear. "I'm ten," he repeated.

"You're lucky," Sara finally said. She didn't sound as cold anymore. "I have someone from the Adventurer's Guild who's going to find out where you came from, and then we can get you back-"

"No!" His voice came out strangled. "I-I mean, I don't want to go home."

"What about your parents?"

They're dead and gone. Serves them right.

"I don't know where they are," said Aren. Technically it wasn't a lie - he knew what they were, two rotting corpses lying under earth and snow, but not where they were.

"Well, I'm sure they're looking for you." Sara turned back to the door and beckoned for Aren to follow her. He did, because he had a feeling that disobeying her would leave him in even worse trouble than he was already in.

"Kayjax! Good news, I found the source of my missing stock. However, it's a child that's a long way away from home." She placed a hand on Aren's shoulder, a simple movement to stop him from high-tailing it out of there. "Now, you're going to go with Kayjax and he'll ask you a few questions. Hopefully, we can get you back to your parents."

My parents are dead, you numbskull.

Kayjax offered Aren a smile, tipping his witch's hat. He returned it with a scowl. This was not going to be fun.

Aren squirmed in his seat. The chair was wooden and hard, and the armrests dug uncomfortably into his arms. He watched as Kayjax flipped through his notebook, tore out a page and clicked his pen.

"What's your name?"

"Aren."

"Last name?"

"Aren. I don't give last names."

Kayjax blew air. "Wow, okay. You're feisty. How old are you?"

"Ten."

"Ten?" Kayjax looked shocked. "You're ten years old?!"

"What are you, deaf? I'm. Ten. Years. Old. What about it?"

"I- nothing, I'm just surprised! How did you even get here from Snezhnaya?"

Aren scowled, though even his glowering face could not mask his surprise. "How did you- I never said-"

Kayjax tapped his temple. "The mind of a detective works in many ways. I noticed that you have more of an interest in colder areas. Natural habitat, I assume. You chose the chair opposite the radiator, only drank cold beverages with your breakfast, and you slept outside the Knights of Favonius HQ instead of inside, where it's considerably warmer. And before you ask how I know where you stayed for the night, an acquaintance of mine saw you there in the morning. They have a fondness for cats, you see, and the place that you settled to rest is where they put the cat food every morning."

"Don't send me home," Aren whispered. The chair did not seem so bad now, in the face of what could come next.

"Pardon?"

He looked up at Kayjax and his eyes were filled with a such desperate intensity that the latter looked surprised. "You can't send me home."

"Why not? I'm sure your parents are-"

"My parents are dead," Aren hissed. His voice was louder, scraping the back of his throat. He was unaware that he was on his feet now, and his eyes stung with tears - he was unsure whether they were angry tears or something else. "They're dead and gone and it serves them right. You cannot send me back there."

"Okay, Aren, could you sit back down for me?" Kayjax was also standing up, but only to coax Aren into sitting back down. "I'm sorry to hear about your parents, but let's talk about this, and you can explain why you don't want to-"

"Why I can't," Aren interjected.

"-why you can't go back to Snezhnaya."

Aren sat back down. He took a deep breath. "I can do things," he whispered, "with my mind."

Kayjax raised an eyebrow. "You can do things with your mind? Sure, okay. We can all do that."

"No. I can do things. Mind things. I can see things that other people can't. And...I can make people think things."

"You're making me think that you just don't want to end this little adventure of yours," Kayjax replied.

Just then, the door opened. Adam, balancing a tray of ice cream bowls in his hand, walked in. Yasmine and Neutral trailed in behind him.

"Hey, KJ! I brought the ice cream you wanted."

"Vanilla, my favourite! You're a star," he took the bowl from the tray and set it in front of him. "Now, Aren, if your parents are, well, y'know- then who's your legal guardian?"

"I don't have one."

"Do you live in the Hearth?" Neutral piped up from the other end of the room. Aren swivelled to glare at them, and they shrivelled. "Sorry."

"House of the Hearth? Yeah, that makes sense," said Yasmine. "It's a famous orphanage, and it's popular for raising the children there to follow the Tsaritsa's ideals about Celestia. I get why you'd want to escape from there, that place sounds like the fresh pits of hell."

"That's not why I escaped from there. And, mind you, it wasn't easy, so don't make it out like it's some everyday feat. I barely made it out alive."

"That's understandable. But I need to know why you escaped, and why you're so desperate to not go back. Is there some sort of danger waiting for you there?"

"You could say that," Aren said. "The Fatui have some sort of interest with me. Ugh, they won't leave me alone. I always get extra lessons and harder materials and they say it's because they don't want me to waste my potential, but I don't understand any of it. Maybe it's for the better."

With those words, Aren rested his chin on his arms, folded over the table, and set his eyes in front of him.

Kayjax rubbed his eyes. "Okay. I can work with that. Let me just get that into writing..."

Before he could begin, however, from the pits of Aren's stomach rose a deep, gurgling noise, much alike the beasts that dwelled in the depths of the Abyss. He narrowed his eyes, still trained directly in front.

"Here, you can have this. I'm not a huge fan of vanilla, anyway." Kayjax suddenly said, pushing his bowl of ice cream over to Aren. The latter accepted it hungrily, and wasted no time in digging the spoon into the creamy goodness and rising it into his mouth.

Adam gasped. "I- what? But you literally just said that vanilla was your favourite!"

Kayjax paused all motion. His brows creased in muddled confusion. "It...it is my favourite." He touched a finger to his lips. "Why would I say that? Unless," he looked at Aren, still shoving heaps of ice cream into his mouth, and realization - quickly surpassed by anger - clouded his features. "Aren! Did you make me think that I didn't like vanilla ice cream?!"

"Oh, so NOW you choose to believe me!" Aren waved the spoon indignantly, sending flecks of ice cream across the table.

"Oh my Archons, you're actually TELEPATHIC?" Adam looked terrified. "Quick, what am I thinking?"

"You're wondering what day it is, in case you missed the Saturday Special at Good Hunter. And as a matter of fact, you did. Today is Sunday."

Adam looked deflated. "Aw, I did?"

Aren nodded. "Do you get me now? The Fatui are obsessed with my telepathic abilities and whatnot. They think they can utilise them to help overthrow Celestia, but since it's morally wrong and stuff to force a ten-year-old to fight a war against the gods, they've been shoving these stupid Fatui ideals into my head since I was old enough to talk. They think that once I'm old enough, I'll magically want to fight for that stupid nation."

Adam whistled slowly. "Okay...okay. Obviously you can't go back, then. You'll have to stay with one of us until we figure out what to...oh wow, this is big..."

"Aren can stay with me," said Neutral. "M-My apartment is big enough for two people. I can get you food, and you're in safe hands should I need to leave for official duties. Samira should have the history reports by noon. Come find us when you get them, alright?"

Nobody responded to them. Neutral blanched.

"O-Or not."

"That's a perfect idea," Kayjax said. "That takes care of Aren, and gives us time to think of what to do next."

"What are you talking about? Figure what out? History reports? Is the end of the world happening, or something?"

The air in the room grew uncomfortable.

"Alright, who's gonna tell him?"

Yasmine took a deep breath. "There have been an increased number of Fatui and Abyssal attacks on the outskirts of Mondstadt. This would typically be a usual occurrence, but they seem to be attacking from the outside and slowly working their way in. Also, a few days ago, Neutral overheard a communication attempt between the Fatui and the Abyss. We've been brainstorming ideas for why they could be co-operating, and their ideals seem to line up, we think. The Fatui might want to control the other nations due to them being in the way of her plan to stop the divine. We asked Samira, who's a historian, to research the history of abyss motives. And so far, that's it. "

Aren blinked. "Okay."

"'Okay'?! We just told you that the world is going to end, and you say OKAY?" Adam looked increasingly distressed.

"What am I supposed to do? It's no cause for panic, if you ask me."

Adam collapsed into the nearest chair and buried his head in his hands.

Chloe sat at the head of the table. It was an important seat, and since she was in charge of the meeting, Erik allowed them to take his usual chair. She revelled in the powerful feeling that this seat brought, with all the other Harbingers looking at them, and a smile crossed their lips. She motioned for Mingxia to come forward and read the briefing.

"I'm sure you're all aware of the young boy at the Hearth. His name is Aren, and Sir Marcellus was making plans to utilise his telepathic abilities to rebel against the divine and overthrow the other nations. However, we recently received the news that he's managed to escape from the Hearth. Since then, twelve search parties have been sent out to search for him, but all have been fruitless. It is theorised that he has made it past Snezhnaya and is residing in another nation."

A curse slipped loose from Mayuko's lips. " Look, okay, I know we can't technically lay a hand on him, but this kid is PISSING ME OFF. WHERE THE FUCK DID HE GO?"

"It has only been a week," said Celeste. "Could he have gotten that far?"

Ivor took a long swig of wine. He took a moment to think deeply. "No ships have entered or exited Snezhnaya in the last two weeks. He can't have gotten anywhere outside of the nation. What, do you think he swam?"

"Don't be foolish," replied Krone. They fiddled with the beaded necklace at their throat. "The boy is telepathic, is he not? Let me raise you this: he simply changed the thought process of a local merchant, and they suddenly decided to import their goods to another nation. If they loaded up their boat, what's to say that little Aren didn't just sneak himself on that boat and drop himself somewhere far away?"

"How could that be?" Alixus bit into his bottom lip. "I personally reviewed all imports and exports into Snezhnaya this morning. Something like that would not have missed me, I assure you."

"The boy is smarter than you give him credit for," said Erik. "He could've easily organized a private export leaving from one of the outer rivers. It's much harder to track what comes in and out of Snezhnaya when it's not coming or going through the ports."

"We're wasting time by sitting here and speaking comfortably. He could be anywhere right now, in or out of Snezhnaya. Couldn't he have just done some mind stuff and convinced the search parties to look elsewhere?" Mayuko said.

"He'd freeze to death out there. I don't think he's particularly comfortable in the wastelands of Snezhnaya. We could leave him, and wait until he comes crawling back, but if we go after him, I have a feeling he'll just convince us to turn around and go back." Alixus shrugged. "Or not. You could always go and waste your time on a boy who can outsmart you in a hundred ways."

Da Xia giggled. "Y'know what I say? We extend those lovely search parties to the other nations. When I find that boy, oh-ho-ho...I'm gonna make him sorry."

"I hope you'll retain your morals when you make plans, Achyls."

Fourteen pairs of eyes swivelled to the doorway. Crevaise sauntered in, clutching a heavy leather bag in their gloved hand. Behind him, with one hand on their shoulder was Scapino, smiling brightly.

"Goodness, you're back!" Krone was up and out of their seat as soon as they crossed the doorway. "Oh, I was so worried!" They lightly swotted Crevaise on the shoulder. "You know how you get when you're out in the cold for too long...you're not feeling light-headed, are you? Do you have any sores? Did you catch a cold?"

"Not particularly, and I don't have a cold," mumbled Crevaise, coddled in the fabric of their clothes. " I'm feeling fine. Thanks, Mo- Krone."

Scapino made note of this almost slip-up.

"Back to the task at hand!" Chloe shouted. She had just been handed this power and was not at all ready to relinquish it. "We need a plan to get Aren back and we need it now."

"Even if we do get him back, nothing is saying that he'll willingly co-operate with us," said Dahigo. "He's ten years old, and his parents have their heads so far up their ass that they gave him away because they thought he would be of assistance to the Fatui. If I were him, I'd hate us. I mean, give the kid a break! They've been shoving Fatui stuff into his head for years. He's gotta be sick of it by now."

"I'm done with this," said Mayuko suddenly. He stood up and made his way to the doorway. "Call me when you've made a plan that won't bore the hair off of my head." He walked past Crevaise and Scapino, ruffling the former's hair in a way that made their spectacles slip from their nose. Crevaise scowled and re-adjusted their glasses.

"You," Mayuko tapped the shoulder of a mercenary stationed by the door, "come with me. Let's spar."

The mercenary swallowed air. With fright in his eyes, he bowed the other Harbingers farewell and scurried out of the doorway.

Erik rubbed his eyes with a hand. "I'm exhausted. Chloe, dear, I'm sorry to have to relinquish your throne rights so quickly, but this meeting is adjourned."

"WHAT? But that's not FAIR! I just got here!"

"I'm sorry, but I doubt anyone here is focused enough to continue. Take Kheas, for example." Erik pointed at Atrosisa, whose chin had dropped down to her chest. She was fast asleep, and nobody had even noticed. "And Kuma, also" She too had succumbed to the powerful need for sleep. "And Igor's about to drop in three...two...one..."

True to his word, Igor's deep, rumbling snores filled the room a moment later.

"Ohh, you're all so ANNOYING!" In a fit of rage, Chloe scraped back their chair, grabbed their papers and stormed out. The door slammed behind them.

"Oh dear," said Da Xia, rising from her chair, "now we won't get them out of their room for the next week. Too bad, so sad."

Kuma, who had since woken up from her minute-long nap, rubbed her eyes. Her hair stuck to her face in thin strands of blue, and with an effort, she brushed it aside. "Where did Chloe go?"

"She left. The meeting is adjourned, so you can rest in your room, dear," said Mingxia, collecting the documents from the table. "Would you like me to make you something to eat? It's been a while since you've eaten."

"I'll do it myself, don't worry. You're already overworking yourself, 'n I ain't one to add on to your workload. Let me know if you need a hand with anything."

"That's alright, love. It is my duty to serve you."

Kuma stared at her reflection in the metal kettle. She didn't look that bad today. (She looked good every day). Her hair needed a good brushing, but Krone had told her that the untidiness gave her a sort of flair. She hadn't the faintest idea what that meant but took it as a compliment. The kettle whistled - steam blew from its spout. She straightened, smoothened down her hair and prepared a mug of chamomile tea.

Just as she planned to drink it, however, the door to the kitchen creaked open. A peanut-brown eye glanced in.

"Hello, Aspen. What's up?"

"What are you drinking?" Upon being spotted, Celeste closed their umbrella and entered the kitchen, letting the door close quietly behind them. The bow on her dress caught against the door handle. With no regard for the quality fabric it was made of, Celeste tore it from the handle, adding to the endless wear and tears on the garment. "Is that chamomile tea?"

"Yeah, it is. I'll leave the box of teabags out and you can make one for yourse-"

"Ah, no need. Can't you just make it for me?"

Kuma blinked. "I- you're messing with me."

"I'm not."

"What am I now, your slave? Look, make the tea yourself or forget about it. I don't do things for you."

"Okay." Celeste took a seat on the stool. She made no effort to take the teabags. Instead, she stared intently at Kuma as she took a sip of her beverage, and did not stop staring until Kuma put down her teacup and glared back at her.

"What is it? Why can't you just make a cup of tea for yourself? You're creeping me out."

"It's- it's just that-" Celeste rose from their seat, checked outside of the hallway and slammed the door shut. "I don't know how to use the kettle."

Had Kuma not retained a shred of kindness, she was fairly sure she would've choked on her tea. "You...don't know how to use a kettle?"

"No." For the first time since they had met, Celeste looked less like a formidable opponent and more like an embarrassed little girl. "I don't know how."

"Oh." Why did Kuma feel bad? It was no secret that Celeste Valluy was as spoiled as they come - she had spent years of their life being handed things on a silver platter. In fact, Kuma could place money on the fact that Celeste wasn't allowed to use a kettle, for fear of being seen as common. She let out a blow of air. "Okay. I'll show you how. Wash your hands and come over here."

Celeste did as she was told.

"Alright. First, you want to fill up the kettle. You see this mark here? This is the maximum water limit - fill it up any more and it'll bubble over when you boil it. Here," she passed it to Celeste, who lifted it up and down, shocked at its weight, "fill it up and bring it back."

Celeste went to fill the kettle. She placed the kettle in the sink, flipped over the lid and turned the tap on full blast.

The resulting effect was water hitting the edge of the kettle - water splashed all over Celeste, all over Kuma and a fair amount spilt on the floor.

Sheepishly, Celeste closed the kettle and brought it back to Kuma. She tried to ignore Kuma's sharp glare as she took back the kettle and examined it. "I mean, you did fill it. And you didn't go over the water limit, so you got that right. Okay, onto the next step. I'll show you how to boil it. See this?" Kuma held up the plug and motioned inserting it into the wall. "This is going to generate heat by turning electrical energy into heat as it passes the coil."

Celeste pretended to understand that.

"Plug it in, and then we'll wait. It usually takes a few minutes for the kettle to finish boiling."

Celeste took the plug from Kuma and tried inserting it into the plug hole.

"You're holding it upside-down."

"Ah."

She rightened it and slipped it in. Instantly, the kettle roared to life - after being used only a few moments ago, it was still fairly energetic and the resulting noise startled Celeste rather badly. So badly did it shock them that a spark of purple burst from their fingertips - it ricocheted off of the kettle and hit the wall. The kettle fell silent. All was quiet.

"Seriously, Aspen? Now the kettle-"

BOOM!

The plug on the wall exploded in a violent shower of sparks. If Kuma had not reached out a hand and caught the plug, it would've struck Celeste with enough force to leave a bruise, or worse. The girl in question had grabbed onto Kuma in their terror, shaking violently - and only when Kuma shifted a bit did she release her grip.

"Shit, Aspen, you're jumpy. Everything's alright, mkay? You're somehow alive, even after overloading the electrical system. On the bright side, you get to live another day. On the not-so-bright side, the kettle won't work anymore."

Celeste nodded. "I understand. I'm to blame, anyway." She picked up the umbrella, resting against the tabletop and opened it. "Thank you for trying to teach me, though. Not many people would've bothered." She made to leave.

"Wait." Kuma stared at her tea - still piping hot and drinkable - and pushed it to Celeste. "Take mine. I've got to give you props for trying, anyway. And I can't blame you for being scared. Just...next time, ask someone before you use the kettle."

"But that's your drink."

"I don't want it anymore. To be honest, I'm not a tea person. It's not sweet enough for me. But stuff like that seems to be right up your alley, so it's all yours. I'll see you around." She patted Celeste's shoulder as she left the room.

Celeste slipped into one of the barstools. She brought the tea closer to them but did not drink it. Instead, she gazed into the reflection staring back up at them. Their eyes looked oddly shiny. Only when a tear broke the reflection did she realise that she was crying.