The Decision
Arlecchino has always been an unflinching woman, well-suited to her position in the Harbingers. Weak could never be used to describe her, with nerves like steel and eyes like daggers. Always the Knave, sworn to protect and defend. And defend she did- but only of her own interests. Currently, though, they happened to align with those of the Tsaritsa, and thus every wish from her would be Arlecchino’s command. From founding orphanages that most definitely broke the Khaenri'ah Conventions to attempting to find the near-mythical Eternal Oasis, she refused to falter until no other options were left. But this rarely occurred, and she frequently reigned supreme over any opponent she faced until the bitter end of their conflict.
Although born in Fontaine, her personality reflected near-none of the country’s ideals of justice and fairness. They had never served her well, so why should she continue following them? The unflinching cold of Snezhnayan winter, her chosen home, served itself as a better comparison to her chilly nature. A bloom of tenderness peeking through her frigid skin was an infrequent and short-lived occurrence— her upbringing had destroyed any hope of a permanent thaw.
She quite liked the way things were, as the efficiency of her unflinching nature allowed her to carry out her pet projects with ease. But she was human, as so many others in her line of work at least claimed to be. Humans falter, although so many would like to pretend that they cannot. Once the sunlight begins to hit the hard rock below the ice, it continues to melt, faster than before. And the simple thought of maybe I need some time off would never cross the minds of those with a voice like iron nails, kitchen knives, hidden weapons— and a personality to match. Most other harbingers had lives outside of Tsaritsa, from relationships to families (or even both), and thus could fulfill the need for mental stimulation outside of quashing treasonous plots, acquiring and retaining large sums of Mora, and delegating workers.
But Arlecchino was truly an all-or-nothing woman, devoting every waking moment to servicing her god and refusing to take a break until human fallibility forced her to do so. That still doesn’t quite capture how her “temporary respite” could become something so opposing of her regular deeds— perhaps the inevitability of the albedo effect was yet to be revealed.
Unnecessary formality was one thing that Arlecchino could hardly ever tolerate, but she could very well appreciate the finer things in life. It was practically certain that she would feel torn between liking and hating the perfumed letter with the delicate pink stationary that arrived on her desk one day, her name written in loopy calligraphy. She frowned as she saw the i had been dotted with a tiny heart, knowing whichever subordinate delivered this would be cackling away by now. But there was no question as to who had sent the letter— there was only one person that would even consider writing something so gaudy and frankly ridiculous out of all the harbingers. Maybe even all of Teyvat. Ripping the letter open, she coughed as an even stronger floral scent floated out of the envelope. She would have to try and remedy that, somehow— perhaps she could tactfully gift the sender a vial of lighter perfume for her birthday. But for now, Arlecchino would have to make do. Unfolding the letter— which was a shade even pinker than the envelope— she began to read.
Dearest Knave,
I hope you have been doing well recently. From what I hear, your House of the Hearth is flourishing. It’s a shame I haven’t had the opportunity to personally visit. Unfortunately, I’ve been much too wrapped up with my work. But I do have a delightful little project that I believe you could assist me on. Soon, I will be traveling to Fontaine to view an upcoming trial. It will give me an excellent opportunity to see their unique judicial system in action, as I have hardly a clue on how it works. I can also get a head start on obtaining Focalors’ gnosis, since no one wants a repeat of the events in Liyue or Inazuma. I believe the Regrator still tallied a negative balance in Liyue this quarter— and of course, nobody wishes to lose another member of our nine remaining.
Arlecchino sighed, tempted to simply skip to the end. Whenever she received a message from anybody else, it was short and on topic, and she much preferred it that way. She was a harbinger, for Tsaritsa’s sake! She didn’t have time to waste reading this!
To continue,—Finally— I would like you to accompany me to Fontaine. An elegantly dressed girl watching a trial alone will stick out like one of the Marionette’s machines in a harbinger meeting. You will help to rectify that by being the other part of my party, so I can end up looking less suspicious. Perhaps we can pretend to be bodyguard and wealthy merchant’s daughter. Anyways, once the trial is over, we could partake in some of Fontaine’s finer delights for a bit. I hear they have some wonderful private beaches, and I’m sure the weather will be divine. Please deliver your reply by mail or simply show up at Hôtel de la Mer in Fontaine City by June 1st, as I will be arriving on that date.
Yours truly,
Columbina
The immediate response in Arlecchino’s mind was a hard no. She did not wish to be reined in by Columbina’s thinly veiled desire to have a summer vacation in Fontaine with one of the only other female harbingers. And she had sworn the next time she went to Fontaine would only be because of the direct orders of the Tsaritsa. Corruption ran rampant there, and the mistreatment of the poor compared with the high standard of life the wealthy lived left a sour taste in her mouth— especially since she had witnessed it firsthand.
Sighing, she raised her head to look out the leaded glass, which yielded nothing but the filtered darkness of a Snezhnayan night. Just how long have I been in here? The part of her body that could still remind her that she was a human and needed sleep awoke at that very moment, and a sinking deadness seemed to grasp her eyelids. She rubbed them with her palms to stave off the inevitable, preparing to draft her response anyways. Opening the cabinet that contained her own stationary (white with a black border), she pulled out a sheet and an envelope. Her eyes flicked up to the inkwell, but noticed a colorful glimmer beside it.
Rose hues seemed to float in the heavy glass of a paperweight, nearly moving around to her tired eyes. Blinking twice revealed the original shape to be a delicate Niloupata Lotus inside of a clear ball, impossibly pink and impossibly preserved. Oh, that brought her back years. The very first time she had gotten a letter from Columbina was when she received this paperweight on her birthday. It was a much shorter letter, but still irritatingly perfumed and pink. She seemed to remember You’ll need it!as being the message’s chief theme, and it did hold to be true. It was one of the only birthday gifts from the other harbingers she even used. The care that must have gone into the painstaking production of this by the artisan that Columbina then proceeded to make someone steal the paperweight from spoke volumes to her kindness, regardless of how many others believed it to be a facade.
Suddenly, she realized she was probably not as reciprocal to Columbina’s acts of friendliness as she should be. “Making friends” was never the chief point of her service— this was not a preschool, for god’s sakes— but at least having connections would increase her likelihood of long-term survival in such a cutthroat business. She sighed, already regretting her decision. This blasted perfume is warping my mind.
Columbina,
I would be happy to join you in Fontaine. I will see you on June 1st.
—Arlecchino