Worry about something and it comes.
Now they were finished.
That was Seino Yaku's only thought.
" …Who is she?"
Lumine spoke.
A very calm voice, calm to the point of seeming emotionless—like the sea beside them.
Cool moonlight lay over the chilly surface; deep shadows sank into an even deeper abyss. Except for a death-like cold, not the slightest ripple of feeling remained.
Seino Yaku looked up. Miss Lumine was standing right behind him.
Night had fallen completely. A dark sky dragged heavy clouds along; strips of silvery brocade ripped open the heavens—moonlight spilled from the sea of clouds and flooded every mountain, every stretch of ocean.
Everything was bathed in silver.
That silver light also poured over Lumine.
She looked as if she had searched a long time; a trace of sweat on her brow faintly caught the moonbeams.
In her left hand she carried bass strung together with grass cord; her right rested on the Shinken at her waist. Golden eyes reflected Seino Yaku's face.
The camp-fire roared; tongues of flame hissed upward.
The scent of smoked fish filled the night air.
"Lumine… hello." For some reason Seino Yaku's voice lacked confidence. "When did you find us?"
Damn—why no confidence? He was the one kidnapped!
Yet faced with Lumine's blank expression, his words simply would not sound firm.
"I was waiting for you," Lumine said, staring at him.
"But you never came back. I caught many, many fish, planning a big meal—but dusk passed and you still weren't there. I feared you had starved to death, so I came looking.
"We had clearly made a promise."
Her cold gaze fell on the sardines smoking over the fire. "Seems you're eating quite well."
…I was kidnapped by an Archon, that's why…
Yet indeed he had broken the agreement.
Lumine's eyes darkened. She shifted her stare to the silver-haired girl happily eating.
Silken white hair spilled down to delicate ankles, spreading over the sand. Bright firelight lit the girl's flawless profile; her head tilted slightly, revealing a pure, elegant collar-bone—
Beautiful, so beautiful she hardly seemed mortal.
"Who are you?" Miss Lumine asked.
Lia cocked her head, as though she hadn't heard. Pale fingers pinched a skewer of crispy-outside, tender-inside sardine.
She parted slim lips, took a light bite, and—utterly ignoring Lumine—smiled at Seino Yaku:
"Delicious. After so many years your cooking hasn't declined."
Seino Yaku could only laugh awkwardly.
So many years…?
What did "after so many years" mean?
Miss Lumine's brows knitted; her face grew overcast.
She had never met such a rude person.
"Won't you eat?" Lia fetched another skewer and, smiling faintly, held it to Seino Yaku's lips—as if to feed him. "Ah—"
Lumine watched, icily.
Lia braced one hand on the sand, her slender body leaning forward. Seino Yaku instinctively leaned back, but she pressed closer and closer—seen from a distance, their cheeks almost touched.
Damp, warm breaths mingled.
"Open your mouth," Lia ordered. "Ah—"
…Ah what?
Seino Yaku stared at the fish's vacant eyes and shook his head like a rattle drum. If he really took that bite, he too would have fish-eyes.
He might not know what was happening, but he could feel—Miss Lumine was very angry now.
Very angry.
Whether her quiet, indifferent eyes, or the fingers gripping the Shinken's hilt, or her bitten lip—all broadcast the same message: Lumine was furious.
She glared at feeding Lia; golden eyes were as deep as the night sea—like someone's plump cat being taken by a stranger.
The surrounding Anemo grew sullen, whirling nervous sand. Lumine forced her temper down.
"Who are you?" she repeated.
At last Lia paused. She seemed only then to notice, lifting her gaze to Lumine. Eyes slid over that wheat-gold hair; she asked, puzzled:
"—Where did this blond come from?"
Where did this blond come from…
That line fully darkened Lumine's face. She still wore a smile, yet her eyes held no warmth.
"I came from Mondstadt with Seino Yaku. And you popped out of where?"
She bit especially hard on the word "with."
"Not telling," Lia tilted her head.
"I've nothing to say to you. We're going home for dinner," Lumine said. "That's my promise with him."
"I have a promise too." Lia crossed forefingers before her chest in an X.
"Since I have one, yours doesn't count."
Also have…?
Lumine stared coldly at Seino Yaku and gave a wordless snort. Her eyes seemed to question: What does "also have" mean?
"Are you angry?" Lia asked with a smile.
"I merely dislike impolite strangers," Lumine said frostily.
"Stranger…"
Lia's lips moved, chewing the word. Stranger—yes, of course she was a stranger; Seino Yaku had met her only today. An unreasonable, impolite stranger…
But because it was a first meeting, could it not also be a reunion?
Stranger.
Lia hated the term—therefore she also hated Lumine.
She had already decided: she would never yield again.
She would become a "god" her believer could rely on.
No manners? Then she would be still more unmannerly.
"I am not a stranger."
Lia stared at her; fire and deep-gold pupils fused into a wine-red glow. The Archon's majesty swelled.
"I am"—she proclaimed—"this boy's one and only god."
Though Seino Yaku had never accepted, Lia declared it as self-evident, as if saying "Look, this belongs to me." Gods play by no rules.
Only now did the God of Salt's pressure sweep out; face impassive, she looked on Lumine—ancient and severe.
Seino Yaku tried to speak, but paused as Lumine seized his collar, yanking him upright. He felt her strength—fingers digging through cloth toward flesh.
It's only… grilling fish…
Before he recovered, cool fingers touched his own—soft, warm. Lumine had grabbed his hand.
Soft, near-translucent fingers interlaced; he felt her temperature.
A very domineering handshake.
Turning, he saw Lumine's expression firmer and fiercer than ever; clear amber eyes blazed in the firelight—like a tiger marking territory:
"I am this boy's only travel companion."
She squeezed his hand. "Hundreds of years ago we set out together.
"And from now on—"
She paused; the rims of her ears reddened, yet her voice stayed unwavering—"from now on we will travel forever."
She spoke like a child boasting how great her treasure was—chest out, chin slightly raised. Moon–silver and tipsy firelight draped her proud face.
I was here first—that was what Lumine meant.
Seino Yaku, Seino Fugin, or the swindler who tricked her into travel centuries ago— they were their shared journey, and Lumine would not let that journey be denied.
She didn't know why, just refused to lose.
An astringent sourness filled her chest, like a cool summer citrus—bitter yet stronger feeling. She hated this sky-falling intruder.
"Since I have one, yours doesn't count"?
She loathed that arrogant sentence.
Yet surprisingly, Lia showed little reaction.
"Centuries… ha. Mere centuries. I see…"
Lumine watched Lia smile softly—
A teasing, mocking smile; though smiling, her eyes were cold.
"Only a few hundred years," she said quietly.
The tone was level, not loud, yet on the beach it seemed to press down every sound.
Only a few centuries—merely centuries.
Lia lifted her gaze, stared straight at Lumine—indifferent, derisive.
"Just a few centuries—what's there to brag about?"
Lia is so aggressive…
Though Seino Yaku couldn't read their match, he felt the impact. Lia's words clearly stunned Lumine; the hand holding his loosened.
"Eh?" The blond girl's eyes widened; a puzzled sound rose from her throat. "…What did you say?"
Only a few centuries?
Spoken with disdain, as if it were nothing. Why say that?
Lumine did not understand. Instinctively she looked to Seino Yaku.
He avoided her gaze; after a moment he murmured an explanation:
"Her name is Lia… the God of Salt."
The God of Salt.
God of Salt—wasn't she dead?
Lumine froze.
She wasn't stupid; traveling from Sal Terrae she knew the tale.
Zhongli had told them "Bosacius was the God of Salt's only friend."
Bosacius had ruined his own name, shouldering slander of god-slaying and massacre, just to honor her last wish.
But the God of Salt was supposed to be dead!
The silver-haired girl before her, rudely snatching Seino Yaku—was Havria?
The God of Salt's era was over two thousand years ago, during the Archon War. By sequence, Havria had indeed met him first.
In a sense Miss Lumine truly was the later arrival—by a full millennium.
"If you understand," Lia said calmly, "then leave on your own. The fish is getting cold."
Blankness. Lumine's mind seemed wiped clean.
Her eyes dimmed, but soon she thought of something.
"Hey," Lumine said, "this guy was actually forced to stay, right?"
Silence.
Lia blinked and denied: "I don't understand what you mean."
"You tied him here, wouldn't let him go—no need to deny it, I've done the same."
The blond bandit seemed proud of her glorious résumé; Seino Yaku nodded agreement.
Usually Lumine was silly, yet now her logic was sharp.
"…And he's not your believer. I know him—scatter-brained, heart nowhere, how could he admit some 'only god'?"
Though grateful Lumine grasped the truth, why did that hurt his dignity… Seino Yaku felt aggrieved.
Tsk.
Audibly, Miss Lia clicked her tongue.
After a pause:
"So what?" she laughed carelessly. "Still better than you—a mere few-century-old blond kid."
"So what." Lia repeated; silver hair danced. Her voice was firm, un-shakable: "Lumine, I will not back down. Because I once lost many things to yielding. Even if it means force—
"I won't let what happened two thousand years ago happen again."
Again two thousand years…
This girl— truly hateful.
Lumine was furious, furious to the extreme.
Golden eyes seemed set ablaze. She crushed Seino Yaku's hand. Two thousand years—so what? Havria—so what?
Every dawn, every night she honed her skills. She kept moving. Now some ancient fossil popped up, waving a two-thousand-year banner to boss around.
Uneasy elemental currents gathered; Lumine and Lia locked eyes for a long, terrible silence.
It's just… just dinner, right?
Caught between an Archon and a Traveler, Seino Yaku felt he must act—or the next second their conflict would escalate.
Escalation was one thing— collateral damage another; he dreaded becoming the punching bag.
Racking his brain for a solution that angered neither Lumine nor the Salt God—but capacity was limited. Finding no perfect plan, he could only cry inwardly:
"Mr. Zhongli, save me—fast!!!!"