[ I'M STILL GONNA RESPOND TO SUNDAY THREAD, also backdates this for us, wherever they are shoma will see the following memory:
you were born to the highest station of status and wealth in mondstadt—the ragnvindr name, an uncrowned bloodline in a country without a king. you have lived your life in service of your city, and endeavored from your earliest memory to fulfill your father's dream, passed onto you.
and you succeed where your father had failed. you are blessed by the seven, granted a pyro vision at the age of 10—a mark of divine potential, even ascension to godhood. you then earn the title of cavalry captain of the favonius at the age of 14, a mere four years later—the youngest ever in the ranks of the ordo.
even as a child, you work tirelessly to the bone for the merest scrap of your father's praise, for the glory of the knights. it's all you've ever known, and you foolishly believe, heart and soul, that it is your righteous calling. you burn ever brightly, and you burn true.
your father dies because he dared to defy the gods, and wielded a heretic power at a severe cost. you do not know how he obtained it, and you did not know he had it to begin with. he dies in unbearable agony, and you take his life with your own two hands to free him from it. you can feel as he stills in your arms, as he draws his final breath.
blood continues to bloom across his waistcoat. rain falls.
W3 TUESDAY
and you succeed where your father had failed. you are blessed by the seven, granted a pyro vision at the age of 10—a mark of divine potential, even ascension to godhood. you then earn the title of cavalry captain of the favonius at the age of 14, a mere four years later—the youngest ever in the ranks of the ordo.
even as a child, you work tirelessly to the bone for the merest scrap of your father's praise, for the glory of the knights. it's all you've ever known, and you foolishly believe, heart and soul, that it is your righteous calling. you burn ever brightly, and you burn true.
and then you turn 18.
and your father dies, on the night of your birthday.
your father dies because he dared to defy the gods, and wielded a heretic power at a severe cost. you do not know how he obtained it, and you did not know he had it to begin with. he dies in unbearable agony, and you take his life with your own two hands to free him from it. you can feel as he stills in your arms, as he draws his final breath.
blood continues to bloom across his waistcoat. rain falls.