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The Third of the Fatui Harbingers is a mysterious, dangerous enigma, new Fatui recruits whisper.
She’s always singing, even in the dead of night, one of them says. It’s so creepy!
She’ll appear out of nowhere when you least expect it, another whispers. But the minute you’re trying to look for her, it’s like she just disappears.
A third nods sagely. I was sent to retrieve her for a meeting once and spent more than an hour searching through the entire palace. But in the end, she just turned up in the Great Hall like it was nothing. I felt so embarrassed.
That gets a round of sympathetic murmuring, which slowly fades away as the conversation changes to safer topics.
Listening to them gossip from around the corner, Arlecchino can’t help but disagree with their statements. If you know where to look, the Damselette is easy to find.
It’s during a visit back to Zapolyarny Palace that she finally has a chance to seek the Damselette out for herself, and she finds the girl exactly where she’d expected—perched atop a cupboard in the Marionette’s lab, humming to herself and kicking her legs childishly, as the owner of the lab stands engrossed in her own work.
Arlecchino knocks politely on the door of the lab as she enters. “Sandrone. Columbina,” she greets.
Sandrone lifts her head from where she’s hunched over a table, barely sparing Arlecchino a glance before she’s looking back down again, uninterested. “Oh, it’s you.”
“No need to sound so disappointed.”
“If you’re not here on urgent business, get out. I have enough to do with that one”– she points at Columbina –“distracting me.”
Columbina doesn’t smile, but her voice is light with something distinctly like amusement as she says, “Am I really that much of a distraction to you, Sandrone?”
“If you have to ask, what do you think the answer is?” Sandrone snaps, grabbing a tool off her workbench with far too much force as she continues her work.
Arlecchino has to withhold a chuckle. She’s seen Sandrone work numerous times before, and knows firsthand how engrossed the other can get in her projects: it's often to the point that nothing short of an actual emergency could pull her back to reality. Columbina’s presence should (theoretically) be of no impact to her focus.
Columbina clearly knows this too, but she hums and drops the subject, turning her attention instead to Arlecchino, still standing at the doorway. “What brings you here today, Arlecchino?”
“Year-end reports, mostly,” Arlecchino replies, crossing an arm over her chest to support the other as she gestures with it. “I’m just waiting for the Jester to approve some documents, so in the meantime I figured I’d come and say hello to two of my most tolerable colleagues.”
“Do you really have nothing better to do with your time?” Sandrone scoffs. “Since when were you so free?”
“I’d hardly classify ‘taking a few minutes off’ as ‘having free time’.”
Sandrone rolls her eyes. “You’ve never been in my shoes, clearly. And while I’m here toiling away, I just have to get interrupted by not one but two idiots, who don’t understand what the concept of being busy is.”
“You should rest more, Sandrone,” Columbina says softly, hopping down lightly from her position on the cupboard and floating over to the Marionette’s side. She peeks over Sandrone’s shoulder curiously, despite her eyes still being closed. “It’s not healthy for you to overwork yourself. I’m sure the Tsaritsa will understand.”
“Easy for you to say. You’ve never worked a day in your life since coming here,” Sandrone huffs, half-heartedly swatting Columbina away.
“I agree with Columbina—take a break sometime soon. Even machines can become worn out, as I’m sure you’re well aware,” Arlecchino says. She walks closer to the other two, stopping a few feet away to observe Sandrone's work.
Sandrone’s only response is to grab a piece of paper sitting on her workbench, crushing it into a ball and throwing it at Arlecchino, which the Knave catches easily. “If you’ve made your point, get out and take that girl with you.”
Arlecchino huffs a laugh but obliges, offering a hand to the Damselette. "Shall we take a walk, Columbina?"
The edges of Columbina's lips curl up in a small smile as she places a dainty hand in Arlecchino's. "We shall."
(Arlecchino doesn't miss the way Sandrone's gaze lingers on Columbina as they leave, even as she pretends to loudly shoo them off. Nor does she miss the way that Marionette seems almost reluctant to return to her work afterwards.)
(She says nothing, simply turning away to usher Columbina out.)
"There are so many better things I could be doing right now," Sandrone mutters, aggressively sipping from the glass of wine she's holding. "This whole thing is a joke and a waste of my time."
"It's only for a few hours longer," Arlecchino replies, turning her own wine glass over in her hand disinterestedly.
It's rare for there to be an occasion where all the Harbingers are gathered in Zapolyarny. They're all busy people with duties to fulfil, and a large number of them are stationed in locations far from the Snezhnayan capital. Not to mention that even with their shared goal of serving Her Majesty, many Harbingers have notoriously 'strong personalities' (which is really just a nice way of saying 'borderline insane' in some cases), and gathering all of them in one place is rarely a good idea.
Probably better this way, Arlecchino decides, casting a critical glance over some of those gathered for today's ball from where she's positioned at the side of the ballroom.
She can spot Rosalyne across the floor, painted lips turned up in a cunning smile as she converses with a young lad no older than twenty-five. Poor thing's blushing furiously as he stammers out answers to her questions, and Rosalyne's clearly basking in his attention.
Arlecchino lets the taste of the wine linger on her tongue for a while, letting the bitterness coat her mouth before she swallows it down. Well, at least one of them is having fun.
She turns to the last member of their odd trio, who's been staring off into the distance for the last few minutes, seemingly lost in thought. "How are you holding up, Childe?"
"Huh?" The boy blinks, otherwise-empty eyes coming back into focus again. "Oh, uh. I'm fine. I was just thinking..."
"You? Thinking? A rare occasion indeed," Sandrone snarks, taking another aggressive sip from her glass. Truly, Arlecchino has to applaud the way she can make the simple act of drinking look so malicious.
Arlecchino sighs, gesturing to Childe to continue his line of thought.
"I was just thinking...isn't the Lady Damselette usually also with you two? I haven't seen her all evening."
"Columbina? I saw her briefly at the start, but she disappeared after that," Arlecchino muses, swirling the wine around in her glass. "I suspect she may have returned to her chambers."
It wouldn't be the first time the girl had done exactly that. For as long as Arlecchino has known her, Columbina has never liked socialisation, in large groups least of all. Arlecchino herself has accompanied Columbina once or twice in leaving a meeting she truly could not stand anymore.
"That's an option?" Childe asks.
Sandrone just rolls her eyes. "She's leaving us behind to take the fall, as usual."
"I don't see you going up to anyone here to make conversation," Arlecchino points out. "You're not taking a fall of any kind, except maybe if you start a fight with Dottore again."
"Like you're any better?" Sandrone snaps back immediately.
"I don't claim to be."
"What are you two arguing about?" a soft voice right behind them interjects.
Sandrone screams, launching herself away at a truly remarkable speed, miraculously not spilling any of her wine in the process. Childe doesn't do the same, but his breath audibly hitches and he takes a step back.
"Hello, Columbina," Arlecchino says smoothly, turning around to greet the new addition to their group.
Columbina's floating slightly above the ground behind her—reducing the risk of her footsteps giving her away, and simultaneously negating the dangers of traps on the ground; Arlecchino approves—and she hums serenely at Arlecchino's greeting. "Hello, Arlecchino. I lost again."
"You're getting better," Arlecchino acknowledges, dipping her head. "You'll probably win one of these days."
"What the– Columbinaaaaaa!!" Sandrone shrieks, face turning a dangerous shade of red as she whirls on the other girl. "What was that for?!"
"Keep it down, Sandrone," Arlecchino warns, gesturing to the people around them, who have begun giving their group barely-concealed looks and moving further away. As expected, Sandrone just flips her off.
Columbina tilts her head to the side innocently. "It's a game that Arlecchino taught me. Whoever sneaks up on the other without being noticed is the winner."
"Sounds like something my Master would play with me," Childe says, looking vaguely intrigued.
Columbina shifts her focus over to him, apparently noticing the ginger for the first time. "Oh. Hello, Childe."
"...Hello, Lady Damselette."
"Columbina!" Sandrone snaps, patience evidently worn thin. "Don't ignore me!"
"It looks like the music's about to start," Columbina says lightly, attention wandering off to the band, who have just begun to set up at the other end of the hall. "Do you want to dance with me, Sandrone?"
The Marionette just stares blankly at her, seemingly enraged beyond words.
"I could accompany you if you wish to dance," Arlecchino offers.
Sandrone immediately directs a glare at her that could have set grass aflame. "I– Fine! I'll dance with you, but you better not step on my toes!"
"I can float," Columbina points out mildly and summarily getting ignored by Sandrone as the other stomps off to the middle of the ballroom, Columbina drifting behind. People rapidly scatter out of their way as they pass.
Arlecchino watches as the two of them take up positions on the dance floor—Columbina graceful as always while Sandrone looks remarkably stiff, which only intensifies as the other girl reaches to gently intertwine their hands.
She can't make out what they're saying from this distance, but she sees Columbina whisper something that draws an eyeroll out of Sandrone, though some of the tension drops from the Marionette's shoulders after.
"That was really awkward to watch," Childe comments.
Arlecchino doesn't deign him with a reply, choosing to take a longer sip of her wine instead.
The band starts to play, a merry tune that has people laughing as they twirl across the ballroom floor. Arlecchino can spot Rosalyne as she dances with the same young man from earlier, who at this point looks completely besotted with her.
Sandrone and Columbina are being given a wide berth in the centre of the room, but neither of them seem to notice. Columbina's actually smiling as they dance, as beautiful as the moon itself, and though Sandrone's still scowling, her gaze has remained fixated on Columbina's face the entire time.
As the music transitions into the next bar, Columbina spins them both around, unconsciously floating into the air as she does so and dragging Sandrone with her, earning a shriek from the other girl as they're both suddenly lifted off the ground. "Columbinaaaaaaaa!!"
Even from this distance, Arlecchino can hear her screaming, kicking her legs until Columbina drops them back down.
Gentle rays of moonlight have begun streaming in through the windows, and the two of them stand brilliantly illuminated in the centre of the brightest ray—Columbina's laughing at Sandrone's indignance, the moonlight highlighting the soft curve of her face while the other scolds her.
She looks ethereal, every bit the Moon Goddess she is, and Arlecchino can't help the way her heart sharply aches with something like jealousy.
"...I think I'm going to go find Pulcinella, or something," Childe mutters as he casts a sidelong glance at Arlecchino. She's not paying attention to him, still staring at the Damselette and Marionette dancing, and he takes the opportunity to scurry away.
It's another year before Arlecchino finds herself back in Snezhnaya, this time with an invitation to one of Sandrone's famous tea parties.
She's the last one there when she walks through the door; Sandrone is already present, of course, sitting at the table and talking animatedly as she pours tea into a cup. Rosalyne sits opposite her, laughing at something Sandrone's said, with Columbina humming along by her side.
Capitano is absent this time, busy with work, and in the absence of anyone with coattails he may attach himself to, Childe is also thusly absent. Arlecchino suspects that he's still sulking after the stunt that Rosalyne pulled in Liyue, though he'd never admit it.
"Good afternoon," Arlecchino greets politely, sliding in and taking a seat between Rosalyne and Columbina. "Apologies for my tardiness; I was held up by the snowstorm outside."
"Took you long enough. The tea's getting cold."
Rosalyne rolls her eyes and waves off Arlecchino's apology dismissively. "Don't listen to Sandrone, we've barely started. Someone nearly got into a fight with the Doctor on the way here."
"He was being annoying," is all Sandrone says as she sets the teapot down, sniffing disdainfully.
"That's something I can concur with you on," Arlecchino agrees. She folds her arms across her chest. "The Doctor is truly gifted at knowing exactly how to rile people up."
"Possibly the understatement of the century," Sandrone sneers, clearly prepared to go on one of her long rants about Dottore's many shortcomings. "That bastard thinks he's soooo much better than us, just because his rank is higher. Always thinking about himself and never sparing a thought for others." She gestures wildly with her hands. "Seriously, would it kill him to start cleaning up after his own messes instead of leaving them for me to deal with?!"
"While I agree with you, perhaps we could save such conversations for another time. The walls have ears, after all," Rosalyne says dryly, casting a meaningful glance at their surroundings. Columbina doesn't chime in, but she hums in agreement.
Sandrone snorts. "Let him hear. Maybe then he'll finally change his ways."
"I somehow doubt that."
"Such conversations can be saved for another time, as Rosalyne has said," Arlecchino interjects, pulling out a box of cookies to place on the table. "If we continue, it'll leave us no time for the tea itself."
At her side, Columbina perks up at the sight of the cookies, though she doesn't reach out for them. "Is this...?"
"A gift," Arlecchino confirms. She nudges it slightly closer to Columbina when the girl still doesn't reach to take one. "The children baked them and insisted I bring them along. They're rather sweet for my liking, but perhaps you will enjoy them."
Columbina reaches out a hand tentatively, and at Arlecchino's approving nod, plucks one from the container for herself.
"Giving us your leftovers, hm?" Sandrone scoffs. Despite her words, however, she slides a cup of tea over to Arlecchino and takes a cookie in the same motion.
"Thank you." Arlecchino brings the tea up to her face to smell it curiously. "What tea is it this time?"
"Brewed with fresh Adeptea leaves, imported straight from Chenyu Vale. Expensive as hell too, so you lot better appreciate it," Sandrone answers, placing another two teacups in front of Columbina and Rosalyne.
"High quality tea is worth the price," Rosalyne says. She picks up her teacup and takes a dainty sip, making an approving noise.
In contrast, Columbina has shoved an entire cookie in her mouth and is currently doing her best imitation of a squirrel—cheeks puffed out comically as she chews. Rosalyne heaves the deep sigh of a woman who has attempted to teach the girl table manners (and has since given up), leaning across the table to wipe the crumbs off Columbina's face.
"It's sweet," she mumbles. "I like it."
"Don't talk with your mouth full!" Sandrone snaps, and Columbina obligingly closes her mouth to resume chewing.
"I'll be sure to convey your appreciation to the children," Arlecchino chuckles, finally bringing the teacup to her mouth and taking a sip.
"How are they?" Apparently satisfied with the cleanliness of Columbina's face, Rosalyne leans back in her seat. "I've been meaning to come by for a visit, but I'm heading off to Inazuma next week already. Pity."
"The children are well. We've been quite fortunate to have no casualties in the last few months, so let's hope it remains that way."
Rosalyne's lips curve up in a smile. "Perhaps I'll drop by once I return from Inazuma."
Columbina seems to have finished her first cookie and is reaching out for a second, only to be stopped by Sandrone, who shoves her teacup at her aggressively.
"Don't just stuff your face with sugar," the Marionette scolds. "After I went through all this trouble to procure the tea too, at least appreciate it."
"Mm. Thank you, Sandrone," Columbina says agreeably, smiling as she takes the teacup.
Sandrone doesn’t say anything, but Arlecchino can see how her porcelain mask cracks ever so slightly for a light pink blush to dust over her cheeks—and she can also see how Columbina’s attention never wavers from Sandrone, even as her face scrunches up with the first sip of tea, complaining about a lack of sugar and met with Sandrone’s loud indignance at her ungratefulness.
Even sitting right next to them, Arlecchino can't help but suddenly feel very far away. Like she's in the ballroom again, watching them illuminated in the moonlight while she stands in the shadows. Always looking, never close enough to touch.
She swallows a large mouthful of tea, uncaring of how it burns her throat, and turns to Rosalyne to strike up conversation instead.
Rosalyne never gets to pay that visit to the orphanage, in the end.
Arlecchino's always known that their line of duty comes with danger, but it somehow feels different this time, standing in the grand hall with her fellow Harbingers. It's been so long since they've lost one of their own that they've grown complacent.
It's going to be strange, adjusting to Rosalyne's absence, she muses. The Fair Lady has been a constant presence since Arlecchino first became a Harbinger, and imagining a tea party without her doesn't feel right.
The air is colder than usual. Frost creeps across the walls and hangs in the air in beautiful, shining crystals—a sure sign of Her Majesty's touch, though the Archon herself has not yet arrived. Numerous candles are placed throughout the space and flowers have been left in bouquets at the steps, as is custom for a traditional Snezhnayan funeral. Arlecchino wonders if perhaps Rosalyne would have wanted a traditional Mondstadt funeral instead, to be more in-line with what her love would have had, but it's not like they can ask her now anyways.
Right now, she's stuck between Pantalone and Childe, with the colleagues that she'd usually stand with being too far away to move over to. Sandrone is all the way over on the other side of the hall, tucked against Pulonia's side, and Columbina...
Columbina is draped over the coffin—Rosalyne's coffin, polished and perfect just as the woman herself had always been—long hair splayed out on the floor around her and head resting on her folded arms. Her soft, mournful singing echoes through the hall, a wordless melody that Arlecchino doesn't recognise.
Arlecchino wants nothing more than to go over to Columbina, to draw her to her feet and shield her from the gazes of all those gathered here today. She doesn't, for it would only invite more attention than necessary; Columbina's already drawn more than a few unsettled glances, though the girl herself seems largely oblivious.
"We are gathered here today to remember our dear comrade," the Rooster begins, voice ringing out over the Damselette's singing. "In honour of her sacrifice, all work shall halt for half a day as the nation mourns her passing."
The rest of the meeting passes in a blur. Arlecchino snaps something sharp at Pantalone and Pulchinella—those two leeches who'd sit all day in the comfort of their own homes, but have the audacity to act so disingenuous at Rosalyne's funeral...such behaviour truly disgusts her. She hears Sandrone's voice sneering disdainfully too, while Columbina just continues to sing, eerie in her serenity.
Only after everyone else has left the hall does Arlecchino walk up to Columbina, still lying sprawled over the coffin. She's smiling, but without joy, and it looks dull and lifeless on her face.
As if reflecting the sorrow of its goddess, the moonlight tonight filters through in only the faintest wisps, despite the moon hanging full in the sky. The beams of light seem to bend around the coffin, as if cradling it gently.
"Columbina, it's time to leave."
The girl sighs, her singing finally drawing to a halt and slowly fading away. "Rosalyne will be lonely."
The coffin is empty, but Arlecchino doesn't voice that aloud. Columbina knows it too. The Raiden Shogun had left nothing but ashes behind, and even those had been swept away by the wind.
"It's time to go," she repeats, softer this time. "Her Majesty will be arriving soon."
Slowly, Columbina sits up, and Arlecchino extends a hand to help her to her feet. The moonlight follows her movement, dimming briefly as clouds move to cover it.
"I couldn't cry for her," Columbina murmurs, in a voice so soft it's nigh inaudible. She's still smiling. "I felt sad, but I shed no tears."
"I don't think Rosalyne would have wanted you to cry over her, regardless," Arlecchino replies, brushing a stray strand of Columbina's hair from her face.
The girl is quiet for a moment. "She deserved to be mourned by someone."
"And she was. It makes no difference whether you cried or not while doing so."
Arlecchino begins guiding Columbina to the door, letting her grasp Arlecchino's arm as they slowly walk away. The Damselette's grip is fragile, the lightest brush of a butterfly's wing—like she's afraid Arlecchino will crumble away at any second.
"She sang for me, did you know?" Columbina says abruptly. "Only once, when she was very, very drunk. I don't think she remembered it afterwards."
"Was that what you were singing?" Arlecchino asks, turning to look down at the smaller girl.
A nod. "I couldn't remember the lyrics, but the tune was beautiful."
"I'm sure she would have loved it," Arlecchino says simply. Columbina doesn't reply, but her grip on Arlecchino's arm tightens slightly, turning more tangible.
They've nearly reached the door when Columbina stops, turning back around, prompting Arlecchino to follow her movement and glance back at the coffin.
"Oh," Columbina breathes. For the first time that night, her lips curve up in a real, genuine smile, like moonlight breaking through clouds. "Rosalyne's come home."
There, perched on the very edge of Rosalyne's coffin, sits a single Pyro crystalfly.
"So she has," Arlecchino says softly, gaze fixed on the little elemental being as it flutters its wings.
Columbina bows her head. "Thank you, Rosalyne," she says softly. "Sleep well."
"Sleep well," Arlecchino echoes, following Columbina in bowing her head and remaining that way for a second longer. "Your sacrifice will not be in vain, I promise you."
As if in response, the crystalfly beats its wings once, twice, before taking flight and escaping out the window. The two of them stare after it until not even the faintest red speck can be seen anymore.
Sandrone is waiting outside the door when they finally exit, and she turns to them as they step out. Pulonia has since been dismissed from her side and she looks strangely small, standing by herself in the hallway.
"Our tea parties are going to be quieter from now on, it seems," she says, voice uncharacteristically soft. As always, her gaze is only ever fixed on Columbina's face.
"Don't say things like that," Columbina murmurs, even as she detaches herself from Arlecchino's side and drifts over to Sandrone. Sandrone, surprisingly, doesn't push her away.
Arlecchino just sighs, her right side suddenly feeling strangely bare. "What are you planning to do now?"
"Well, I'm not allowed to do work." Sandrone is silent for a moment before continuing, "Come over for tea? We could...have a cup in her memory, or something."
"I have nothing better to do," Arlecchino agrees, and Columbina follows suit, humming her own quiet agreement.
"I still have some of those Adeptea leaves from last time, I think..." Sandrone mutters to herself, trailing off as she turns to walk away. Columbina floats by her side, so close that their arms are almost brushing, while Arlecchino is left to follow a few steps behind.
Above the Palace, the moon slowly starts to shine again.
Zapolyarny Palace is almost completely dark as Arlecchino walks through its hallways—the moon is absent from the sky tonight, and even the stars seem dimmer than usual. Except for the odd candle on the wall, it's pitch-black, and most people in the Palace have long since gone to bed. It doesn't bother Arlecchino too much, for she's long grown used to working in the dark, but it does send an uneasy shiver down her spine.
"Columbina," she calls out, peering down yet another branching hallway. Nothing stirs in the darkness, and she sighs as she continues walking.
She'd already checked Sandrone's lab, of course, but even the Marionette hasn't seen the girl at all, leading Arlecchino to go on her search through the Palace.
"Columbina, are you there?"
She could just send a servant to look in her stead, but something in her itches as she contemplates the idea. It's not like she's swamped with work, so it's no big hassle for her to go herself.
It's only as she's about to walk past a small alcove in the wall that she hears a soft voice. "Arlecchino?"
A dark shape emerges into view, white-feathered wings visible on its head, and Arlecchino can't help but breathe a small sigh of relief as she recognises the small figure. "Columbina. I've been looking for you."
"Oh. You can come join me up here," Columbina replies, voice strangely subdued and even quieter than usual. Arlecchino frowns in concern but accepts, gracefully climbing the wall to join Columbina in the little alcove.
Her breath catches in her throat once she properly lays eyes on the Damselette, and she summons a spark of Pyro in her hand, holding it up.
"What happened to you?" she demands, careful to keep her volume low.
Columbina looks visibly paler and more tired than Arlecchino remembers—even now, her head tilts to the side as if she might fall asleep on the spot.
Columbina's nose wrinkles. "I'm fine," she replies, gently pushing Arlecchino's hand away from where it's hovering near her face. "I just need some rest."
Arlecchino frowns. "Are you sure?" she asks, softening her voice slightly.
"I just need some rest," Columbina repeats. She draws her knees to her chest, tipping her head against them. "I'll be alright."
"...Alright." Arlecchino doesn't push any further, letting the spark in her hand fizzle out. She makes herself comfortable in the alcove beside Columbina—leaving space between the two of them, but close enough to touch if either of them lean over. "What are you doing here by yourself?"
"Looking at the moon," Columbina says simply. The alcove is located right beside a full length window, and she tips her head back to face the sky, gazing at it with closed eyes.
Arlecchino follows her example, staring up at the sky outside the window. It's as dark as before, not a shred of moonlight in sight.
"The real moon is beyond the sky that you see," Columbina whispers, reaching a hand up to trace invisible constellations in the air. "It's so beautiful, but so far away." She releases a breath, letting her hand fall before Arlecchino can reply. "I heard about Capitano."
"He sacrificed himself to protect Natlan," Arlecchino murmurs, drawing a faint nod from Columbina.
"Not dead, but something that may as well be death," the Damselette sighs. "Sandrone's tea parties are getting smaller."
Arlecchino lets out a sigh of her own. "That they are."
Columbina's quiet for so long that Arlecchino's begun to think that she's fallen asleep. "Talk to me," she finally says, voice even quieter and more fragile than before. "Tell me about what happened in Fontaine."
So Arlecchino does—she's not a good storyteller by any means, always told that her delivery is too dry and impersonal, but Columbina doesn't say anything. She speaks of anything that comes to mind, and it's only when the girl falls over on her does Arlecchino realise that she's truly fallen asleep.
Columbina is warm and soft in her arms, breathing soundly as she sleeps. Her face is still abnormally pale, but calm and relaxed.
Arlecchino huffs, gently collecting Columbina in her arms and preparing to make the walk back to the Damselette's chambers. "Sleep well, Columbina."
"For you, Lord Harbinger," the messenger boy says, bowing deeply as he presents Arlecchino with a sealed envelope.
Arlecchino frowns, taking it from him gracefully. "Who sent this?"
The envelope isn't marked with any official symbols—just a simple, plain white envelope, weighing next to nothing as she handles it. The messenger, however, is undeniably of Fatui origin, clad in a new recruit's uniform.
"The Marionette, Lord Harbinger," the boy replies, still bowing.
Arlecchino pauses, briefly caught off guard. Sandrone is one of the few in the Fatui that she actually tolerates, but the two of them aren't the type to exchange letters outside of official Fatui reasons.
She nods to the boy as she dismisses him, waiting for him to close the door on his way out before she opens the envelope, curious despite herself.
The letter is simple:
Knave,
The Damselette has left the Fatui and is suspected to currently be hiding out in Nod Krai. The Jester is issuing orders to retrieve her at all costs.
-Marionette
Arlecchino lets out a deep breath, setting the paper down. Despite the detached, concise wording of Sandrone's letter, she can see the way the letters are hastily scribbled across the page, as if the writer had been suddenly blindsided by the news and immediately rushed to pen the message.
Arlecchino can't quite bring herself to feel the same, even as a small part of her twists. The only emotion she can summon up is simply resignation.
She's always known that Columbina's never really belonged with them—there's always been a subtle degree of distance between them, despite everything; it's as if the girl was simply drifting through this world instead of being part of it.
She thinks back to the last time she saw Columbina, to how pale and tired she looked as she spoke about the moon beyond her reach.
Arlecchino sits down, pulls out a blank piece of paper and starts to write.
Marionette,
Thank you for informing me. I shall be returning to Snezhnaya, where we may converse more in person.
-Knave
Sandrone is standing by the window of her lab when Arlecchino finds her, so perfectly still that Arlecchino could have mistaken her for a statue. She looks oddly melancholic, an intense look in her eyes where they're fixed on the horizon.
"Sandrone." Arlecchino raps sharply on the door with her knuckles to announce her presence.
The Marionette blinks, seemingly remembering how to function again as she turns her head. "Arlecchino."
"What's the situation?" Arlecchino asks, cutting straight to the point. No need to waste time on superfluous formalities when it's just the two of them, after all.
Sandrone snorts bitterly, face twisting into an ugly scowl. "You've heard Pierro's orders, haven't you? 'Retrieve the Damselette from Nod Krai, whatever it takes.'"
"And what do you plan to do?"
"I'll be leaving for my new Design Bureau on Paha Isle soon," Sandrone replies. She must be really thrown off, for one of her hands is fiddling with the hem of her skirt in an uncharacteristic display of nervousness—Arlecchino has never known Sandrone to fidget. "The Frostmoon Scions have been acting up recently, so I've been tasked with making sure they won't pose an issue. I'll keep an eye out for the Damselette while I'm there too."
Arlecchino nods, then pauses. "It would be best if any...unnecessary harm could be avoided."
She doesn't truly think that Sandrone would hurt Columbina—used to think, at least. But right now, with that strange, intense look on her face, Arlecchino can't be completely sure.
There's a flash of betrayal in Sandrone's eyes at Arlecchino's words, like she can't believe that Arlecchino would imply such a thing. "I wouldn't– I'd never–" she cuts herself off, looking both furious and conflicted. "...I will do what needs to be done," she eventually says, voice flat.
"I'd expect nothing less," Arlecchino answers, crossing her hands over her chest.
Sandrone just huffs, turning away again. The sun is setting, and the moon has just begun to appear. It's barely a sliver in the sky, though, and its light is muted, heavy clouds covering it until it's barely visible.
"I heard she made a deal with the Tsaritsa," Sandrone says after a long pause. She's staring up at the sky, at the thin ray of moonlight that still shines down on them. She's forgotten to blink again. "Gave up a lot of her power, then vanished."
"That's the first I've heard of that," Arlecchino says, frowning as she walks over to join Sandrone at the window. As if reacting to her presence, the light dims, then fades away completely as the clouds move to fully cover the moon.
"Not surprised. The Jester doesn't want it to be public knowledge."
"He must not be doing a very good job of that, if you already found out."
If nothing else, this at least explains Columbina's appearance from the last time. For her to give up so much of her power...What kind of deal did she make with the Tsaritsa?
Sandrone folds one arm across her chest and makes a dismissive gesture with the other. "Pierro should take his own advice when he warns us that the walls have ears."
"A bold move, to spy on the Jester himself." Arlecchino regards Sandrone contemplatively. "Then again, I don't exactly think he's in a position to be getting rid of more Harbingers now."
"Losing so many in such a short time, what a joke," Sandrone snorts. "Rosalyne, Capitano, and now Columbina..." she trails off, falling silent.
"Our numbers seem to be dwindling," Arlecchino agrees with a sigh. She tilts her head up, staring at the clouds above—not even the smallest glimpse of moonlight visible now.
Sandrone glances over at her. "What are you planning to do?"
"I'll stay in Snezhnaya for the time being. Lyney and Lynette are taking care of things in Fontaine, and I suspect I may only hinder their progress. I've been meaning to check in on some of my children stationed here, so I suppose I'll take this time to make the rounds."
"Pragmatic as always."
"I have to be." Arlecchino replies, tearing her gaze away from the sky and back at Sandrone. The smaller girl is brushing a hand against the hem of her dress again, seemingly resisting the urge to fidget with it. "Send me a letter, if anything happens."
"Bold of you to assume I'll think about you," Sandrone scoffs without heat.
Arlecchino smiles. "Safe travels, Sandrone."
She receives the second letter barely a week later, just as short and concise as the first.
Knave,
It's time for tea.
-Marionette
Arlecchino stares down at the letter in her hands, unable to stop a smile from curling across her face. She chuckles softly to herself.
"Seems like something happened after all."
“You’re late,” is the first thing Sandrone says, as Arlecchino and Columbina walk into the Design Bureau. She's waiting for them with a full tea set prepared and a scowl on her face. “The tea’s getting cold.”
“Is that the default voice line programmed into you for whenever you host a tea party? I seem to recall you saying much the same the last time, too,” Arlecchino remarks, pulling out a seat for Columbina before she takes her own.
“I wouldn’t have to if you were on time.”
"Hello, Sandrone." Columbina smiles as she sits down, as dainty as a flower in bloom. "It's good to see you again. Thank you for your help in contacting Arlecchino—with her help, we were able to restore some of my power."
Sandrone snorts, pointedly avoiding eye contact with Arlecchino. "That was simply for our mutual benefit, nothing else."
Columbina hums airily. "Mhm."
There’s a slightly awkward silence as the three of them sit at the table—Sandrone pours out tea, but her body language is stiff and tense, and her expression is still pulled into a scowl. She shoves the teacups at them with a tad more aggression than normal.
Columbina, still calm and serene, picks up her teacup and takes a sip. “It’s bitter,” she remarks.
“Don’t drink it, then,” Sandrone snaps in an uncharacteristic display of real irritation towards Columbina. “Spit it out and leave, see if I care.”
Arlecchino shoots the Marionette a glance while Columbina just tilts her head to the side innocently. “Are you mad at me, Sandrone?”
"Whatever made you arrive at that conclusion," Sandrone mutters, drinking her own tea. Her expression doesn't change, but her grip on the teacup tightens.
Arlecchino sighs. She can understand Sandrone's frustration, but her methods of expressing it still leave much to be desired, especially when it comes to Columbina. Such is the case when one is a mechanical puppet who struggles with human emotions, she supposes.
She remains silent and doesn't say anything, letting Columbina have time to compose her words.
“I’m not sorry for leaving the Fatui, if that’s what you’re angry about,” Columbina says slowly, hand still holding her teacup in mid-air. “I…couldn’t have stayed, even if I wanted to.”
Sandrone scowls, making a frustrated noise. "That's not– I'm not–" She huffs. "Forget it."
“Contrary to what you may believe, neither Columbina nor I are mind-readers,” Arlecchino says mildly. “If you don’t say it plainly, we won’t know what you mean.”
"I said it's fine," Sandrone grumbles, sounding decidedly not fine. Neither of them push.
Columbina takes a cube of sugar and drops it into her cup, stirring it gently. “It's been a while since I've seen the both of you,” she says quietly, immediately drawing both their gazes to her. “Lauma is nice, but Silvermoon Hall can get quite lonely.”
Sandrone huffs again, though her posture has loosened slightly. “Is that so.”
“I’m glad we can have tea together again.” Columbina smiles. She sips at her now-sweetened tea, humming as she apparently finds it to her satisfaction. “Thank you, Sandrone.”
“Hm. It would be a waste to let all my tea leaves go unused.”
“We’re glad to have you with us, Columbina,” Arlecchino says. She rests her hands on her lap, letting the table shield the blackened digits from view. “Far be it for me to tell you what to do, but stay safe.”
“I’ll try,” the girl replies, taking another sip of her tea. “I’ll come back to visit afterwards. Will you have more tea prepared, Sandrone?”
The Marionette rolls her eyes, but looks significantly calmer than a few moments prior. “I suppose I could make some.”
"I look forward to it," Columbina says. Her smile, as always, is fixed on Sandrone.
From the distance she’s at, Arlecchino can’t hear what Columbina says to Sandrone, but she sees it clear as day when the Moon Goddess walks forward to envelop the other girl in a hug.
Columbina’s never been a physically affectionate person. She’ll tolerate it on occasions, but she’s never been the type to actively seek it out—the ball in Snezhnaya, all those years ago, is the only other time Arlecchino has seen her initiate physical contact with another person.
Sandrone doesn’t seem to know how to respond, either—her eyes have gone wide, and her hands hover awkwardly at her sides. For a moment, her fingers twitch and it almost looks like she’s about to reach out–
But then Columbina pulls away, still with the same melancholic smile on her face as she says something else, then turns to leave.
That’s how it always is, isn’t it? She’ll continue walking, further and further out of their reach to where neither of them can follow. Even Sandrone—though she holds Columbina’s affection in a way that Arlecchino knows she herself does not—can never fully hold her heart.
The moon hangs large and bright over their heads: the closest that it'll ever be to Teyvat, yet still so incredibly far.
Arlecchino still can’t hear anything from this distance, but it doesn’t take a genius to guess what Sandrone says as she watches Columbina’s retreating form.
“I’ll miss you too, Columbina.”
And as Sandrone’s gaze shifts to lock with Arlecchino’s, she can’t help but feel that same longing—for a girl that never stays, and whose path diverges from theirs a little more each day.
It feels like a nightmare.
Arlecchino’s jaw is tense and sore from how tightly she’s gritting her teeth, and her fingernails have begun cutting into her skin from where she’s curled her hands into fists. Across from her, Sandrone looks ready to start a fight with the next person who crosses her path, prompting all her subordinates to rapidly scatter from the area, lest they become that unfortunate victim.
“Dottore, that bastard,” she hisses. “Wait 'till I get my hands on him, and then I’ll…” she trails off into muttered curses, glowering furiously.
Arlecchino takes a deep breath in, then out again, letting some of her own simmering anger settle down into something quieter, easier to suppress. One of them needs to be the rational one between the two.
“While I feel the same way, simply being angry won’t help us now,” Arlecchino says, releasing her grip on her own palms. “We need to locate Columbina as soon as possible.”
“How?!” Sandrone snarls, whirling on her with bared teeth. She looks almost feral with rage—cheeks flushed and eyes blazing, incandescent in her fury. “She jumped through that stupid Moon Gate, and without her I don’t know how to open it again!”
Arlecchino rises to her feet, taking quick strides until she stands by Sandrone’s side, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Breathe. Panicking won’t do anything.”
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Sandrone snaps, but still, she stops and visibly tries to calm herself down.
“We need to think logically about this,” Arlecchino says. She removes her hand. “What can we do right now?”
“Find Dottore and beat him up,” Sandrone mutters.
“Besides that.”
“...My machines can continue monitoring kuuvahki fluctuations, in the case of something suddenly happening,” she says slowly, gears visibly turning in her head. “And I can send some others to scout around the land, see if they can find anything about Dottore or Columbina.”
“I’ll be staying in contact with the Traveller and their friends,” Arlecchino says. She taps a finger to her chin in contemplation. “They have far more connections in Nod Krai we do, especially among the Lightkeepers and Frostmoon Scions.”
(More favourable connections, at least, since the Fatui haven't exactly set a good track record of being friendly and approachable.)
Sandrone huffs frustratedly. “Is that the best we can do?”
“What do you suggest? That we reopen the Moon Gate and jump in ourselves?” Arlecchino challenges. “I’ve sent a message back to the Tsaritsa, informing her of the situation here. All we can do now is wait.”
“It doesn’t feel like enough.”
“And it’s not. But what choice do we have?” Arlecchino snaps, temper finally rising to its breaking point. She crosses her arms. "Any more than this and we run the risk of ruining the whole plan and tipping the scales firmly back in that mad doctor's favour. Do you want to take that risk?"
It's terrible, it's unfair, and it's the truth. Loath as Arlecchino is to admit it, Dottore had gotten a significant advantage by being the first to move, leaving all of them to scramble for solutions. She doesn't know if any of them will prove helpful, but as she told Sandrone: what choice do they have?
Sandrone glowers at her, but reluctantly backs down. "I don't like it," she mutters.
"Neither do I."
“I should have seen it coming. It’s Dottore, of course he’d have planned something stupid and insane.” Sandrone starts pacing across the floor, voice growing more and more frustrated as she speaks. “I should have set more security measures in place, not been so– so distracted. Stupid.”
Arlecchino sighs, closing her eyes and relaxing her shoulders. Anger will be her knife, when the time comes. “It’s easy to say that now, but none of us could have predicted just how deranged the Doctor’s plan was. Don’t blame yourself for it.”
Sandrone slows her pacing, though she’s still staring daggers at the ground. “What do you think the Tsaritsa will say about the situation?”
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Arlecchino replies.“But, as I’ve told the Traveller–” her gaze hardens, and her voice drops into something cold and angry “–in the event that Her Majesty will not lift the prohibition on Harbingers drawing steel against one another, I will do as my heart demands and fight as Peruere instead.”
"How very like you to say.”
“What about you? Will you obey Her Majesty, should she forbid any action be taken?”
Sandrone scoffs. The anger in her eyes hasn't left, but Arlecchino can see determination blazing there now, too. “Do you need to ask? Dottore is mine to beat up.”
“We are in agreement, then.” Arlecchino extends a hand, palm up, and after a beat, Sandrone places her own—artificial, cool to the touch—atop it, fingers barely brushing.
“You better keep up.”
“I’d say the same to you.”
Outside Silvermoon Hall, Sandrone turns and walks away from the golden-haired Traveller. Every instinct in her screams to turn back around, to scour every inch of the ground for even the slightest clue or information they had missed, but she continues walking.
If you know where to look, the Damselette is easy to find.
Unconsciously, she clenches her fists at her side. “...You’d better come back, Columbina.”