A change of scene

The two stepped outside the wooden cabin to avoid disturbing the sleeping Collei with their conversation. A gentle forest breeze drifted past, carrying the scent of grass and trees. Tighnari spoke first, his tone bearing the earnest curiosity of an Amurta scholar.

"Mr. Xingsu, may I learn your method of treating Eleazar? Perhaps it could open up an entirely new avenue of treatment for all Eleazar patients."

Xingsu gently shook his head.

"I'm afraid that would be very difficult. My method is highly specialized and almost impossible to reproduce. Eleazar stems from a kind of negative memoria. Ordinary healing methods can only suppress the physical symptoms, not strip away the memory residue rooted in the consciousness. My ability to take in this memoria depends on my own unique power."

"Memoria doesn't simply disappear. After taking in those memory remnants, I also need a considerable amount of time to slowly purify them. Ordinary people, or even the sages of the Akademiya, would only be contaminated by this memoria and contract the same illness, even if they really could absorb it."

Tighnari's fox ears drooped slightly, a trace of disappointment appearing between his brows, though he accepted the reality rationally. "All right, I understand. I was just worried that if this happened again, it might be inconvenient to come to you."

Seeing this, Xingsu smiled gently.

"There's nothing inconvenient about it. Whenever Collei's condition worsens, you can come to me."

Tighnari shook his head slightly. "Ah, of course I have faith in your character, Mr. Xingsu. What I mean is, if this happens again, Gandharva Ville lies deep within Avidya Forest, a long way from Sumeru City.

"If I'm occupied with something important and Collei's symptoms suddenly flare up again, by the time word reaches Sumeru City and you hurry over, I'm afraid it might be too late."

"Besides, Gandharva Ville takes in Eleazar patients from time to time. We can't come to you every time there's a patient we're helpless to treat."

Xingsu thought for a moment before saying:

"I read in the House of Daena that Liyue has a kind of pigeon whose homing instincts people use to deliver messages by tying letters to their legs. How about raising some carrier pigeons for emergencies?"

"Uh." Tighnari rubbed his ears. "Actually, an Amurta student wrote his graduation thesis on that very idea. But with all the carnivorous animals living in Sumeru's environment, most of the pigeons were eaten during outdoor training... so he failed."

"...All right. That's a sad story."

With their conversation settled, Tighnari bowed solemnly to Xingsu in thanks. "Thank you so very much for today. Without you, I truly had no better way to stabilize Collei's condition."

"No need to be so polite." Xingsu waved a hand lightly, looking toward the cabin. "Take good care of her. It's time I headed back to Sumeru City."

"Stay safe on the road."

Xingsu nodded in farewell, turned onto the forest path leading to Sumeru City, and gradually disappeared among the layers of verdant trees.

There had been no attendants along the way, no guide, only a lone figure walking down the long, silent road.

The newcomer stopped before the gates of the House of the Hearth.

Yesterday's prison cell, The Jester's questions and her answers, her status as a newly appointed Harbinger, the revealed secrets of the Crimson Moon-all those scenes still settled deep within her heart. Once the mist had cleared, what remained was not relief, but a heavy burden of responsibility weighing upon her shoulders.

She had once been a child here, a survivor of the House of the Hearth's brutal trials.

Now, returning once more, she was the master of this cage.

The heavy doors were slowly pushed inward. Snezhnaya's biting wind swept the scent of ice and snow into the warm hall, instantly stirring the stagnant air of the House of the Hearth.

Peruere-or Arlecchino, as its new master should now be called-stood in the doorway, a brand-new Harbinger's cloak hanging from her shoulders. The bewilderment she had worn in the prison cell had already faded from her face, leaving only an unapproachable severity. In the center of the spacious hall, flames burned quietly in the hearth, their warm light falling upon young yet utterly lifeless faces.

The children inside all looked up.

Pairs of clear yet clouded eyes focused on her, filled with sharply differing emotions. The older children's eyes were full of wariness, their bodies unconsciously tensing slightly. Long accustomed to the endless harshness and cruelty here, they guarded themselves against every new person in power; the younger children watched with innocent curiosity, secretly studying this unfamiliar, solemn new administrator.

Yet beneath all these emotions, the most prevalent was a numbness that ran bone-deep.

Years of harsh training and cold rules had worn away all their innocence and vitality. There was none of the lively chatter children should have, none of the anxious crying. They simply watched her quietly, as though looking at any ordinary authority figure. Their joy and sorrow had long since grown numb, their hopes long since died. Whoever held power, life here would probably never change.

The entire hall was silent, save for the soft crackling of firewood in the hearth.

Arlecchino quietly surveyed her surroundings, looking at these children trapped within a tiny cage, just as she, Clervie, and Xingsu had once been. Memories of the past surged up, weighing slightly upon her heart.

Arlecchino stood in the center of the hall, her scarlet eyes calmly sweeping over the numb, wary children. Her voice was cool, but every word rang clearly through the stagnant air.

"From this day forward, I will take over the House of the Hearth and have full authority over all its rules."

Her tone was steady, yet carried an unquestionable authority as she slowly laid out a new order that overturned the past:

"I will not continue the previous Knave's rules. The House of the Hearth will not permit its members to kill one another. From now on, your companions are no longer your opponents. You need not trample upon one another's lives to survive, nor endure every day amid suspicion and slaughter."

She paused briefly, her gaze deepening as she laid down the second ironclad rule:

"But the House of the Hearth will tolerate betrayal even less. Within this courtyard, only by standing united can you survive together. Treat your companions kindly, remain true to yourselves, and uphold your principles. These are the only tenets you need to follow."

The children froze.

Looking at the bewildered, restrained children before her, Arlecchino softened her voice slightly.

"Suffering need not repeat itself from generation to generation. I was once you, and I have walked through every desperate situation you face. From now on, I will lead you toward a true home, rather than leave you to wear one another down in the darkness and wither away in vain."

Arlecchino lowered her eyes to these children who had endured so much suffering. Her tone was firm and solemn as she proclaimed a new beginning:

"From this moment on, Crucabena belongs to the past."

"I-as your new guardian, from now on, call me 'Father.'"

That simple sentence completely severed the dark shackles of the House of the Hearth's past. The warm glow of the firewood fell upon her stern profile, stripping away all its icy fierceness and leaving only the restrained yet steadfast protection that was hers alone.