Work Text:
Tartaglia has been wandering aimlessly. For months, years, he’s lost count. He doesn’t even know what day today is.
The future is bleak.
The barren land spreads out endlessly. No matter how far Tartaglia has walked, it doesn’t seem like he’ll find the edge of this dying world. It took him probably a year, before he realized that he’s the last man standing.
Tartaglia is on the verge of giving up, when one day, a gate materializes in front of him. He knows this gate. It’s a time gate. He learned about it from his mentor a long time ago. His mentor once told him that this gate would allow anyone who entered through it to travel back in time. But a time gate will only show itself before a person who needs it most.
And Tartaglia needs it the most now.
He doesn’t waste time, as he crawls toward the shining gate and enters. In the blink of an eye, he feels himself pulled forward by an unknown force. He then finds himself drifting horizontally in the river of time. The scenery around him is cosmic, with a vast rainbow sky as far as one can see. Tartaglia closes his eyes. He’s exhausted. If the gate brings him to nowhere but his death, he’ll be glad too.
Because the future is bleak and no one can save it.
Tartaglia feels himself dropping to the ground. He braces himself, but luckily the fall is short and he doesn’t end up getting injured. The first thing he sees once he opens his eyes is the floating artificial continent high up in the sky, Teyvat. History books taught him that a renowned architect named Kaveh was the brain behind it. He and his life partner, Alhaitham—the acting Grand Sage himself— had managed to evacuate civilizations to this brand new world after the War of Transgression broke out. It was a war where countless lives were lost. The citizens of the lower world—Khaenri’ah— were once caught in a conflict. The conflict divided humanity, until some of them had to flee from their own homeland. Teyvat was their new home.
But if Tartaglia can see Teyvat above him, doesn’t this mean he’s down below in Khaenri’ah? Is this before, after, or during the war, then? His questions will be answered soon.
Tartaglia hears footsteps from behind him.
“Tartaglia, I’ve been expecting you.”
The person—no, a mixture of human and dragon— who’s been expecting him has brought Tartaglia back to his abode. Half of this place doesn’t have a roof, it’s more fitting to call it a garden. A sacred one, it seems. For at the elevated floor across from him, stands a throne. The owner of that throne is now standing with his back facing him. Tartaglia looks around and makes guesses in his head who this creature could be.
“I am the last of the Farseer tribe. You may call me Rex Lapis,” he says, as if reading Tartaglia’s mind.
“You’re a Farseer? I assume you’ve seen my arrival, then?”
“Correct.”
“How far have you seen?”
“Far enough.”
“Do you know that that thing,” Tartaglia points to Teyvat, “no longer exists in my era?”
“700 years in the future, Teyvat will meet its destruction. The war in our land, Khaenri’ah, may have ended; but both worlds, up above and down here, will still meet their ends after all. We are looking for a way to prevent that. If Teyvat didn’t crash onto the surface of Khaenri’ah, the lower world wouldn’t be dying either.”
“Who’s we?” Tartaglia can’t help but ask.
“Myself. Others who people deem worthy enough to be called heroes. And you. You are the last variable. Without you, there is no way we could avoid the catastrophe.”
“Please,” Tartaglia drops down to his knees, “Rex Lapis, save the future. Save my future.”
Perhaps because Tartaglia has almost given up, he isn’t aware of his tears falling freely down his cheeks when he begs Rex Lapis. The Farseer approaches him, his dragon tail dragging on the rugs underneath his bare feet. He bends down and wipes Tartaglia’s tears with the sleeve of his long robe.
“We will do it together, Tartaglia.”
They did it. Truth be told, Tartaglia still can’t believe it. They managed to save the world. There were so many hindrances, but they still made it in the end.
But at what cost?
When he closes his eyes, he can still replay the scene. Rex Lapis had transformed into his dragon-qilin form, multiplied his size nearly as large as the floating continent itself, all so he could bear the weight of Teyvat.
Tartaglia opens his eyes and sees the crystallized Exuvia cradling the humongous sphere all over, as if the dragon is hugging its precious baby.
Rex Lapis is no more. But both Teyvat and Khaenri’ah are safe now. His desperate sacrifice is worthwhile. It was his duty. His primary Focus, which he’d gotten when he ascended to be a Farseer.
Tartaglia extends his arm toward the sky, as if he wants to reach out to what’s left of Rex Lapis. His corpse. But then he notices how transparent his arm has become. And it slowly creeps up all the way to the rest of his body.
I’ll still be dead, after all, won’t I?
But death might sound more forgiving.
“You were meant to be born in the dying world. You were meant to be the last one standing, Tartaglia,” Rex Lapis once said to him.
Of course. That makes sense now. With the world having been saved, there will be no more dying world. The future is no longer bleak. And Tartaglia must cease to exist. Because just like Rex Lapis did, he’s also fulfilled his Focus now.
Tartaglia closes his eyes again. One final time.
Will I meet you again in the afterlife?
Can we finally rest?
Tartaglia,
Thank you for existing.
