As before, darkness flashed before Ji An's eyes.
The perspective shifted.
He entered what he privately called viewing mode.
---
"Who are you? Are you crazy? Do you know who I am? How dare you!"
"Sp-spare me! I'll hand over those smuggled goods... urgh!"
In a dark alley, he slowly withdrew his longsword from the body of the terrified noble before him.
The sword tip hung at his side.
Crimson droplets slid down the blade and bloomed into dark flowers on the stone below.
Wrapped in a cloak, his face was hidden.
He had done this kind of thing countless times. Not a ripple moved in his heart.
Someone else would come soon to clean up the body.
He turned and left, disappearing quickly into the night.
---
The guardian bore the most noble title a knight could hold.
Yet no one knew that at night, he concealed his crest and his face beneath a cloak to do the things that upright and honorable knights must never do.
He returned home.
He removed the cloak, revealing a face of flawless handsomeness. A brown ponytail added a touch of distinctive charm.
Yet his brow was habitually furrowed in a faint melancholy.
He looked quietly at his reflection in the mirror.
Even his own face felt somewhat unfamiliar to him now.
When had it all started?
He closed his eyes and thought back.
At twenty-four, a disgraced Knight of Favonius named Crepus had sought him out.
Crepus had shown him the dark side of Mondstadt, spoken of the unfulfilled will of fallen comrades, and invited him to join an underground organization dedicated to overthrowing the aristocracy.
After some hesitation, he joined.
Not for any complicated reason. Their ideals aligned. That nameless organization allowed him to carry out his own sense of justice.
To him, the methods used were of little consequence. Uprooting evil entirely was the only way to truly protect the things he cherished.
As long as his heart remained a clear mirror, even covered in filth, he was still practicing justice.
Wasn't he?
At first, he thought he would never waver.
But when he plunged his sword into countless hearts, feeling the blade drag through flesh and blood again and again...
But when, clad in gleaming armor by day, he watched the wives and daughters of the slain weeping over their corpses...
But when he came across the files of the condemned and discovered that some of them, while risking their lives for money, had also been quietly using those same funds to support impoverished children...
He wasn't wrong. He knew that.
Every person he had killed had their reasons for deserving it.
And yet. Amidst the countless killings, he could feel his heart beginning to lose its way.
He would go on killing in order to protect.
Only... he was growing tired.
He stood at the window, looking out at the bright moonlight.
A thought rose in his mind.
Will that girl in the square be singing there again tomorrow?
---
"R-Rostam, Deputy Grand Master!"
Outside the Knights of Favonius headquarters, a squire who had been dozing at his post startled awake at the approaching figure and snapped to attention.
Rostam nodded without expression and walked through the gate.
"Oh no, is Deputy Grand Master Rostam angry?"
The squire whispered frantically to his companion: "Should I not have addressed him like that? Ah! I could die of stupidity. I'm such an idiot. My chances of becoming a full knight are definitely ruined now."
"Relax, stop overthinking it. Deputy Grand Master Rostam has always been like this. He wouldn't hold a grudge over something as small as that."
The companion laughed quietly: "Who doesn't know he and the Grand Master grew up together? Best friends since childhood."
---
Rostam walked all the way to the Grand Master's meeting hall.
Grand Master Arundolyn sat at the table, his face carrying its usual warm smile.
Seeing his friend enter, Arundolyn set down the map in his hand.
"Rostam. You're here."
Rostam acknowledged this and asked: "Arundolyn, have you made your decision about the expedition?"
Arundolyn nodded slightly: "After the kingdom of Khaenri'ah was destroyed by the gods, the dark power that poured out has been spreading across the entire continent, corrupting everything it touches. The Knights of Favonius cannot stand aside."
He looked at Rostam: "After I leave, the safety of Mondstadt is in your hands."
Faced with his friend's trust, Rostam reached into his coat and produced the hourglass he had crafted long ago. He held it out to Arundolyn.
He said only: "If you don't come back in triumph, I won't shed a tear for you."
The hourglass symbolized happiness, friendship, and love.
Arundolyn understood. This was Rostam's most sincere wish for him.
---
"Slash!"
"Swing!"
"Thrust!"
In the training ground, under Rostam's watchful gaze, the knight in pure white armor swung his sword again and again.
The silver armor shone brightly. His blade was clear as a mirror, just like the noble heart within him, carrying on the justice inherited from Boreas's Pup.
Wherever there was injustice, a monster threatening lives, or a fire burning in the distance, the pure white knight's sword would swing toward it.
After the one thousand and first swing, the knight stopped.
He walked before Rostam: "Master, the melancholy in your heart seems much lighter today."
Rostam hummed: "Perhaps. Is it that obvious?"
The knight tilted his head: "In recent days I have felt a darkness within you, a wavering in your path as a knight. What has steadied your conviction again?"
Rostam was quiet for a moment. A rare, faint smile crossed his face: "Perhaps because I heard that pleasant singing again."
The knight shook his head slowly: "This disciple does not understand."
Rostam looked at the dried white flower pinned to the knight's chest: "Do you remember how you came to be called Pure White?"
"The first time I defeated a monster, I refused the reward offered by the young lady I had saved. She gave me this white flower instead. I wore it on my chest as a mark of my knightly path, and people began calling me by that name."
Rostam asked: "I have heard that the young lady, still carrying the flower she gave you that day, has come to the Knights many times looking for you. Why won't you see her?"
The knight was quiet for a moment, then said simply:
"In three days, I will follow the Grand Master on the expedition against the darkness."
---
After Arundolyn departed, all the affairs of the Knights fell to Rostam.
It was already dusk by the time he left the headquarters.
She should have gone home by now.
He told himself this. Yet his feet, as if guided by something beyond his own will, carried him toward the square.
At a certain point, he stopped. The wind had brought him her voice:
"The west wind carries the scent of wine..."
"...Whispering softly, I sing of my longing for you."
No matter how many times he heard this song from this particular person, it smoothed the furrow from his brow.
Only in moments like this could he set down the weight that came with his duties.
He found it puzzling, though. Everyone else had long dispersed. Why was she still here singing at this hour?
He didn't approach. He found a place to sit, a little distance away.
He watched her golden hair move in the wind, her elegant dress flutter, the beautiful notes rising from her swan-like throat.
A quiet smile settled on his face as he listened.
He had heard her sing many times from among the crowd.
And yet, in truth, they were still strangers. They had never spoken.
He imagined she had never noticed that her song had been easing a weary soul.
Beautiful moments are always short.
Her song came to an end.
He rose to leave.
"Hey, are you going already?"
Her voice came from behind and stopped him.
She waited. When he didn't respond, she pressed on: "You! Why are you always in such a hurry? You listen to the song and then just leave. What kind of person does that!"
She had tried her best to sound fierce. The trembling in her voice gave her away entirely.
Rostam was not the Grand Master, but he held no less fame or standing in Mondstadt than Arundolyn. Coupled with his striking face and the air of melancholy he carried, he was the object of admiration for countless young women.
It was simply that he always seemed unapproachable.
Girls were like sensitive creatures. Though they knew nothing of what he did in the dark, they could perhaps sense something. The faint, lingering smell of things that could not be washed away. And so, however much they admired him from afar, none dared draw close.
"Every time?"
He turned around, his eyes settling on her: "You remember me?"
He meant no harm by it. But years of working in the shadows had given his gaze the quality of a hawk's. Precise. Penetrating.
Under that gaze, the girl's slender frame trembled slightly.
Even so, she gathered herself and said:
"Y-yes! So what?"
"Ah." He nodded.
Silence.
A silence heavy enough to suffocate in.
He himself would not suffocate, but he worried she might.
He needed to say something.
"Your singing is very—"
"Why are you so late today—"
They spoke at the same moment, and fell silent at the same moment.
That made it considerably more awkward.
Wait.
He caught her words and frowned slightly: "Are you saying you waited deliberately this late for me today?"
"...Huh? Deliberately for you? As if!"
The girl startled, her face flooding with color, words tumbling out: "It's definitely not because of you! D-don't flatter yourself!"
"Ah." He nodded again, then turned and walked away.
She had not expected him to actually leave. She stood there foolishly, watching his back grow smaller.
Rostam's guess had been correct. The reason she had stayed in the square from dawn until dusk was simply to bring some comfort with her song to that melancholy knight.
She wanted to call out.
But after feeling the force of his presence just now, no sound would come.
She could only stand and watch him go, her nose stinging, tears welling in her eyes.
He walked about ten paces. Then stopped.
He turned around and looked back at her.
She scrambled to wipe her eyes with her sleeve, composing herself as best she could.
"Did you need something?"
"Well, I wanted to ask..."
He said: "Would you like to sit in a tavern for a while?"
She stared at him. It took her a long moment to find her voice, and when she did it came out in a rush: "Going is not impossible if you're sincerely inviting me. Not that I mean anything by it. It's just that you look so miserable all the time, it's honestly a little pitiful, so naturally I feel some degree of sympathy... Hmph!"
He asked: "So. Are you coming?"
She: "...Yes."
---
After that, he gradually grew to know her.
He learned her name was Rosalyne.
He learned she was eight years younger than him.
He learned she came from a wealthy family, a well-bred young lady by every measure.
He learned that this outwardly beautiful and poised creature with the moving voice was, in truth, a deeply unstraightforward person who often brought difficulties on herself through sheer stubbornness, only to cry about it afterward.
---
One evening after finishing his duties at the Knights, he met Rosalyne in the sitting room of her family's home.
"So annoying. My family wants me to go study at the Sumeru Akademiya. What's so wonderful about a place full of sand?"
A steaming cup of tea sat before her, untouched, as she complained to him and chewed on her teaspoon.
She wore an elegant white dress draped with a red-and-white checkered fur-trimmed shawl. She looked very beautiful.
He considered for a moment, then said carefully: "The Akademiya in Sumeru is considered a holy land by scholars throughout the continent. Studying there would be of great benefit to your education."
Rosalyne's expression grew anxious: "B-but Sumeru is so far away! If I go, I won't be able to see you for a long time!"
She reddened immediately, stammering: "I-I mean, I'm worried you'll be lonely. Lonely enough to cry. That would be terribly pitiful."
He considered this seriously and replied: "Probably not. I have endured lonelier times than that."
"..."
Rosalyne opened her mouth. No words came.
Finally, she said in an indignant huff: "Fine! I'll go! I'll tell my parents tomorrow that I'm leaving for Sumeru, far, far away from Mondstadt! So far that a certain blockhead won't be able to find me even if he wanted to, and then he'll regret it and cry himself to sleep every night!"
But before Rostam could cry, Rosalyne cried first.
Large teardrops fell from her azure blue eyes.
"I don't want to be apart from you..."
He was quiet for a moment. His gaze softened as he looked at her.
"Rosalyne. It will be alright."
Rosalyne wiped her tears and nodded quietly.
"This is for you."
He took out the hourglass he had prepared long ago.
"It is a specially made water clock. The time it takes to complete one full cycle is equal to the duration of your studies at the Akademiya. When the sand runs out, you will be able to come home."
The hourglass symbolized happiness, friendship, and love.
In his entire life, he had made only three such hourglasses.
The first was made when his craft was still rough and unpresentable, so he kept it for himself.
The second he gave to Arundolyn, wishing him a swift and triumphant return.
The third he gave to Rosalyne now, hoping her time far away would pass smoothly.
"Yes!"
Seeing the gift he had prepared for her, Rosalyne's tears turned to smiles in an instant.
The earlier grief was already forgotten.
---
In the pale light of early morning, he saw off the carriage carrying Rosalyne.
He prayed for her in his heart, and held quietly in him the hope of the day they would meet again.
Until then, he would protect their city. For her, and for all the people of Mondstadt.
-------
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