This was written at about update 3.3 or 3.4, so I'm guessing where Snezhnaya is, sorry for inaccuracy if you're from the future!

—

Tartaglia had been working for the Fatui for a while now. Since basically birth, he had trained and become the true Soviet warrior that he is- hard work, dedication, and constant tweaking until he was at perfection.

He received his code name when he was first joining, that was a big moment for him. Another would be why he was where he is now: in Liyue. He had been assigned his first international mission recently, it was a task to prove he was ready to become a harbinger.

Completing the mission mercilessly and perfectly, the Tsaritsa decided it was time.

Tartaglia woke in the morning, yawning and stretching, the birdsong of Liyue greeted him unlike it did in Snezhnaya. His young, 18 year old body was filled with energy the moment the sun rose, so it wasn't hard for him to stand up and prepare himself for another day.

Perfecting his messy hair look in the mirror, smoothing out his scarf, stepping into his boots, and securing his fatui mask to his head, he was ready. Looking around, he took in the Liyue hotel room: flowing curtains that reflected the perfect ocean breeze that created a beautiful cool flow of air throughout his open room. There were little doors, and all of them were sliding ones at that. The bathroom door hung crooked from when he first arrived and was getting used to the mechanisms; he had slammed it too hard.

He ran a few fingers through his ruffled hair and approached his room door, the only in his place that wasn't sliding. Before he opened it, though, he noticed a letter on the floor.

Bending at the knees, he squatted on the floor and lifted the letter to his eyes. He carefully checked the edges, examined the stamp, and re-read the address. All seemed to be in order, so he opened it right there, on a Liyuean hotel floor.

His heart pounded in his ears as he read the first few words.

To Tartaglia,

I know myself from experience that you are rather impatient, so let me keep this short. Tartaglia, you have proven loyal to her Majesty the Tsaritsa in your most recent mission, and have made all of Snezhnaya proud. Your efforts have contributed to our goal of peace, and so you shall be rewarded.

The Tsaritsa has told me to relay the following information to you: through your efforts, you have proven worthly of the title of Harbinger. To serve as her top eleven most powerful subjects is truly an honor, and I trust you take this seriously. Your life truly begins today. You will serve her Majesty directly, and work together with us to perform our ultimate goal.

You are to arrive in Snezhnaya as soon as you are to read this, and no later. The ceremony of your growth shall be conducted in exactly one month, with you, or without.

Do not mess this up,

2nd of her Majesty's harbingers, Il Dottore

Tartaglia felt his smirk growing on his face before he even processed the weight of these words.

He was going to become a harbinger.

Standing up quickly, he accidentally banged his head on the short ceilings of Liyuean architecture. But he didn't feel the pain through his overwhelming joy. His goals were coming to something: growing to what he dreamed them to be! He saw himself receiving this letter when he was just a little Russian version of Timmie back in Snezhnaya.

His ambitions were strong, and now that they were somewhat met, he was full of more hope and energy than he had been before. Leaping back toward his bed, he quickly packed all of his supplies and ran out the door, throwing a small bag of money on the lobby's main desk as he rushed out.

He knew the schedules of Snezhnayan boats. One would have left about a minute ago, and his hotel being on the ocean-side, he believed he could make it.

Leaping over children's heads and basically flying down the cliffs (he almost messed up a shoulder roll and could have broken his neck, but hey, he was too full of adrenaline to notice). He saw the boat: a few meters from the dock, moving at a rather quick pace as the winds were good today.

Grinning, he readjusted his backpack and sprinted down the dock. Activating his Hyro vision last second, he used his polearm to vault onto the ship. Flying meters into the air and landing perfectly, he relaxed for a second before looking back at the harbor. Goodbye Liyue, hello future.

—

The Snezhnayan ship experienced some... difficulties along the way. A rough storm swept through the waters and the ship's sail tore, leaving the passengers and crew members with just two sails. The ride was slow, and the captain made the decision to stop in Port Ormos to fix the sail.

Tartaglia, already anxious, wasn't too happy. When they landed in Port Ormos, he already made up his mind: patching a sail took a day at least to complete. He'd rather run to Snezhnaya than wait and do nothing for that long.

So he jumped from the deck onto the dock and took off running through Sumeru's rainforest paths in the general direction of Snezhnaya. He stayed the night in a hotel in Sumeru city, but he couldn't get rid of the feeling of being watched, despite how much relaxing perfumes and bed sheets comforted him.

Blaming the feeling on being paranoid, he continued on his journey that morning. Hopping out of his bed, he didn't realize he was in Sumeru until he noticed the ceilings were taller and the doors weren't sliding. Once he came to this realization, he felt his nervous energy bubble up once again.

He briskly set out from the hotel and came in contact with a merchant making their way up the city paths, selling farm animals. Seeing the opportunity, Tartaglia jungled his wallet at the man until he was able to bargain a horse from him for extra cheap.

His steed was rather small, but it would do fine, he thought. It was a beautiful brown color with spotted dashes of black, an unusual color combination that called the Tartaglia. He rode at a brisk pace toward northwest Sumeru, where he knew a road met the desert. After a quick cut through the desert, the land slowly would fade to a hilly gassy area full of wine fields and rich towns brimming with new technology; Fontaine. He'd have to travel through Fontaine to reach Snezhnaya, the desolate freezing tundra that is his home.

To keep himself occupied whilst navigating the complex rainforest paths, he contemplated a name for his horse- Dimitri? Brakonski? Alexi? Maybe Vladimir? Putin?- naw, didn't feel right.

Whilst he thought over this, he felt the feeling of being watched again. Looking around, he caught a little green blur disappear underneath his horse.

Hopping off and equipping his bow all within a second, he was already aiming at the creature under his horse before his horse could take another step forward.

It was small, fairy tail-like, and it didn't look scared at all. It wore a large green hat that covered its eyes, which where little black diamonds.

"Hello, Tartaglia!" the creature greeted.

"Leave," Tartaglia ordered, having no time for fairy tail creatures to interrupt the most important journey of his life.

"I cannot," the creature insisted.

"Why?" Tar tar taglia gave into his curiosity, but still held his bowstring back.

"No reason," the creature's dopey smile never lessened in size.

Deciding not to dignify that with a response, Tartaglia lept back onto his horse (now that he'd seen it from a new angle, he thinks it looks like an Alexi) and trotted away.

His journey continued in silence and boredom, as Tartaglia shot random creatures in his path when he was getting antsy. His young body was designed for athletics, not sitting on the back of his horse (Which he officially named Akilina, after he remembered the name for a loyal steed from a popular musical back home).

Three hours of horseback after he met the strange creature, he could feel he was being watched again. Waiting for the right opportunity, he lept form Akilina and shoulder rolled toward the feeling, holding a Hydro blade up to the creature's throat (?).

"Hello," it said simply.

"What are you," Tartaglia hissed.

"I'm an Aranara," it replied. "Named Nakarayalankyadarana, I am. Call me Nakara!"

"I'm not calling you anything," Tartaglia insisted, pulling back his water blade and evaporating it into the air. "What is your purpose?"

"To convince you," the Aranara said simply.

"Of what?" Tartaglia became defensive.

"You'll learn," the Aranara replied.

Tartaglia and his short tempter were not having this, so he turned to leave back toward Akilina.

An hour of riding later, when Tartaglia grew bored once again, he felt eyes on his neck.

Sighing, he didn't even try to scare the creature anymore, instead he kept his horse moving and simply turned around to face backward. The Aranara waddled after his horse, which he had allowed to slow to a gentle walk as a mercy break.

"Maybe I'd let you sit on my horse if you told me what your purpose is," Tartaglia bargained, leaning carefreely against the back of Akilina's saddle.

"Nakara is fine," the Aranara insisted, its pace was steady and strong; but slow.

Tartaglia grumbled to himself in annoyance. Why was this mysterious creature bugging him so much? It must be his childish curiosity. He was also laughed at because of how his childish behavior managed to survive the brutal fatui training.

"Stop staring at me," Tartaglia ordered.

The Aranara stared even harder. Tartaglia sighed loudly and turned around to face forward once again. Still, though, he liked this Aranara's spirit and determination, plus the unflinching smile it kept when he openly attacked it.

Just before he entered the desert path, he stopped in Caravan Ribat, the desert-rainforest border town. He wouldn't need to rent a camel as he was only traveling on the sand for a couple of hours before reaching the Fontaine border, but he decided his horse did need a well-deserved break.

Staying at a local inn, Tartaglia finally took a break. He was another country closer to becoming a Harbinger, and he bet the boat he had been taking wouldn't have even left Port Ormos by now.

Then he felt it again. Little eyes peering at him from outside the paneless window, staring. He could now picture the Aranara's diamond beady eyes and its perfectly emotionless smile. He had been sitting on the edge of the bed, but now he turned to face the window opposite him, sitting on his knees on the surprisingly feathery soft mattress.

Sure enough, the Aranara sat there, peering through where the curtains didn't cover the night sky.

Tartaglia knew it was cold out, the Aranara was shivering. Tartaglia, of course, could handle basically any cold temperature, but he took pity on the adventurous little creature.

"Come in," Tartaglia sighed, opening the curtains fully.

The Aranara jumped in without question and sat on the bed with him, instantly warmed by the small fireplace in the corner. You'd never guess how cold it could get at night in the desert; at times the difference between day and night could be a fifty degree gap (fahrenheit).

"Nakara is grateful," the Aranara smiled.

Tartaglia didn't respond, instead he began pulling the covers over himself, despite the fact that he still wore all of his traveling clothes.

"You wish to know why I'm here, yes?" Nakara spoke after a minute of contemplative silence.

"Yes," Tartaglia admitted, but his voice was more of a mutter after the tiring day.

"Well too bad, Nakara wont tell you directly, fate will be the guide to answers," the Aranara said, trying to sound cryptic.

Tartaglia muttered something incoherent as he rolled onto his side, but the Aranara (who was now jumping off of the bed to give Tartaglia space) made out the words 'crazy' and 'bullshit'.

The next morning, Tartaglia set off from the desert town to the country of Fontaine. He was surprised to find himself a bit sad at the fact that the Aranara wasn't anywhere in sight, but he took off anyway, because who needs a creepy fairy-tale looking mushroom stalking you?

By the time Tartaglia and Akilina crossed the border from the desert to the grassy hills of Fontaine, Tartaglia felt the now more common feeling of being watched. He sighed dramatically and turned to look to his left, where he felt a presence.

Sure enough, the little Aranara was running at full speed along Akilina, who was in a gallop at the moment. The little creature was lagging behind, its waddle was definitely not enough to catch a full grown speed horse. Slowing down, Tartaglia let Nakara catch up.

"Nakara thanks you," the Aranara panted.

"You're growing on me," Tartaglia shrugged. "Hop on."

And so Tartaglia, Nakara, and Akilina took off at a brisk pace over the rolling hills. Soon enough, the sun was setting, but the nearest town was way off in the distance. Tartaglia realized that pushing Akilina too hard could result in a sick or dead horse, and that would slow him greatly, so he slowed to a stop near a gentle gurgling river and set up camp.

When he turned to ask what the Aranara ate, he realized the creature had disappeared. Tartaglia wished he could know the plans of his new little friend, then at least he wouldn't feel confused. Shrugging, Tartaglia prepared some fish for himself and used some of the Liyuean spices he had on him to season it.

He spent the night under the stars, and the next morning riding toward a large town in the distance. Again, he felt the presence. This time, though, he felt a smirk play with his lips as he turned to look behind him, he actually learned to enjoy seeing the playful figure bobbing up and down along behind Akilina.

But to his surprise, the Aranara wasn't there, and instead another horse gallopped towards his. Some foreign symbol decorated their clothes, and they held a spear with hostility. Tartaglia quickly got out of the way, but the rider aimed at him still. Adrenaline rushed through him. Finally! An aggressor! A fighter! Something exciting!

Leaping from his horse, Tartaglia readied his bow, using a nearby hill slope for a few inches of cover. As the rider neared, Tartaglia launched a single arrow, which struck the armor of the soldier and bounced off. Only, it came back. Using his Hydro skills, Tartaglia manipulated the arrow into slamming the seam between the soldier's chest plate and torso armor, piercing the skin.

They promptly fell off their horse, which kept on running.

Laughing, Childe approached the fallen soldier, who was humorusly choking on his own blood, which poluted the dirft path a dark liquidy red.

"Thanks for the entertainment, comrade. This country side is rather boring," Tartaglia faked a yawn. "Let's see why you were here..."

Digging through the soldier's clothing, he found a small envelope written in the language of Fontaine. Tsking, Tartaglia tossed is aside and made his way back to his horse, not even going to try translating that mubo jumbo of a language.

"Tartaglia," came a light, familiar voice.

He turned to see his Aranara friend.

"Hello," he greeted nonchalantly as he hovered near a corpse.

"What did you do?" The Aranara sounded mad. "You must'nt do this."

"What? Defend myself?" Tartaglia chuckled.

"This will be harder than she said it to be," Nakara said to themself.

"Who's 'she'?" Tartaglia narrowed his eyes at his newfound friend.

The Aranara stayed silent.

"Who," Tartaglia asked, but less of a question, moreso a demand; an order.

"Nakara has failed," the Aranara looked down. "I'm supposed to convince you, I took too long to start."

"We've already established the convincing thing," Tartaglia rolled his eyes.

"She doesn't want you to throw your life away to the darkness," the Aranara stated.

"Who's she? What darkness?" Tartaglia was really struggling not to stab the corpse a couple more times out of frustration. He hated unclarity more than Scaramouche.

"No time now," the Aranara said. "You should keep moving. Nakara must return home, I have failed."

Tartaglia felt a sudden pang- something telling him to stop the slouching figure from walking off alone. It looked so lonely as it turned to leave. He almost missed the bouncing head and the waddling run.

"Come on," Tartaglia couldn't stop himself. "You haven't failed."

Nakara turned around.

"Yes. I, Nakarayalankyadarana, have failed," the Aranara was not swayed like Michael Bublé from their opinion.

Tartaglia, if he had to be honest, didn't have many friends. That sounds bad, but it's true; as a young recruit, all his life was dedicated to training and working toward an ultimate goal. The closest friends he had were his younger siblings, but he never had a genuine new friend who he could debate, fight (?) and enjoy time with. In a way, Nakara had become that.

Yes, it was quick. But 18 year old Tartaglia grows attachments very quickly, as he hasn't learned that relationships are weaknesses yet. So, he felt that he needed to help the little creature.

"Convince me along the way," Tartaglia smiled, nodding at Akilina.

The Aranara slowly nodded, waddling closer.

"But in return for me letting you convince me to do whatever the heck 'she' wants, I need something out of it, okay?" Tartaglia bargained.

"Nakara was told not to bargain," the Aranara contemplated. "But giving Nakara a second chance is good progress and maybe I can finish my mission. So yes, what do you need?"

"A brawl. A fight. A dual," Tartaglia grinned. "Either me vs. you or you find some worthy opponent."

"Nakara can't fight!" The Aranara protested, their hat bobbing up and down.

"Then maybe you can bring 'her' to me, and I can fight this mystery person instead," Tartaglia proposed.

"She doesn't like fighting," the Aranara sighed. "Nakara can find you an opponent in near future, though."

"Sounds good to me," Tartaglia nodded, proceeding to help the Aranara onto his horse.

The two rode off, a new deal struck and a friendship realized. Oh and also they left a dead body and a fleeing horse behind but ignore that haha. The horse totally didn't just arrive riderless at Fontaine's capital and cause panic enough for an investigation to be started. Ehe.

Tartaglia, Akilina, and Nakarayalankyadarana reached the border of Snezhnaya after a few days of friendly conversation and bonding.

Tartaglia learned the Aranara collected mushrooms for fun, and loved weaving baskets for the younger citizens of Vanarana. Nakara learned Tartaglia loved a challenge and a fight, much to Nakara's dissatisfaction.

The snow started coming down from light fluffy clouds mid day in Snezhnaya. The paths were mostly desolate and lonely, weaving between mountains and random frozen lakes created by ancient glaciers who moved by long ago.

Tartaglia ended up sharing his winter coat (a black one issued to all Fatui recruits) with Nakara, who decided to sit in front of Tartaglia instead of behind him now.

The Fatui member eventually realized, on starry cold night, what the Aranara's purpose was. Well, at least he thought he did.

Brushing his fungers through the snow, he stargazed for the first time in three years, taking a moment to himself while he contemplated his life. He thought that the Aranara had come to convince him out of joining the Fatui, and out of violence in general.

Throughout the journey, Nakara mentioned a multitude of times how Tartaglia could settle down somewhere peaceful elsewhere, away from the Fatui. Every time Tartaglia grew bored and shared stories of gruesome battles, Nakara would tell him how awful that was, and that he should stop fighting.

Pfft, like anyone could ever convince him that. Fighting was his life, and the Fatui was his future.

But it still led him to wonder; why an Aranara? Who's 'she'? What's the purpose? Why him?

Deciding thinking sucks, Tartaglia blanked his mind and snuggled into his sleeping bag, waiting for sleep to take him.

He woke up the next morning with all the childish energy one has when fueled with ambition and anxiousness. His Harbinger title was just a few hours away.

Riding Akilina at a faster pace than every before, Tartaglia bounced around in the saddle mercilessly at each hoof-fall. He was going to have the worse saddle sore ever, but he didn't care. He and Nakara and Akilina were close enough to the Tsaritsa's palace that he could taste Cryo power in the dry, crisp air.

While he was sleeping a light snow had dusted the tundra and mountain sides with a new sparkling blanket, leaving the nearing palace magnificent and dazzling under the sun.

Tartaglia lept off his horse with so much excitement that Akilina snorted in disturbance. A local stablemaster took the horse from the almost-Harbinger and boarded it in the stables while Tartaglia ran up the palace steps, Nakara railing behind.

Controlling his breathing and slowing his steps, Tartaglia knocked on the great ice doors, which opened without hesitation.

A few minutes of gentlemanly greetings and powerwalking through icy corridors, Tartaglia finally made it to the Fatui conference room. Entering, he caught sight of all the Harbingers seated around a clear oval table. The Tsaritsa herself was already there. Talk about perfect timing, by the way!

"You're two minutes late," Il Dottore hissed.

"A Fatui soldier is never late, nor is he early, he arrives precisely when he means to," Tartaglia retorted.

"Nerd," Scaramouche caught the reference, then leaned toward La Signora. "Are you sure this bullshitting asshole is really ready to be a Harbinger?"

Signora rolled her eyes in response, and the meeting commenced once Tartaglia sat down.

Pantalone gave a welcoming speech in a bored tone, Il Dottore talked some formalities, and then the meeting was over and the ceremony had begun. The Harbingers nodded and shook hands with Tartaglia before all leaving the room, leaving the youngest and the Tsaritsa herself alone together (Don't forget Nakara!).

"So, Tartaglia, today has finally come," the archon smirked.

Tartaglia didn't trust himself to reply, so he just nodded enthusiastically.

"Don't," the Aranara beside Tartaglia's chair insisted in a weak voice.

"What do you mean?" Tartaglia asked the creature.

The Aranara didn't reply.

"Who're you talking to?" The Tsaritsa asked, a bit annoyed that Tartaglia was interrupting his own momentous occasion.

Tartaglia was confused. Could she not see the little green Aranara, who stood out against the pure white palace ceremonial room? Then, using his juicy squishy probably damaged brain, he thought for a second and realized that nobody else had noticed the Aranara either.

The travelers on the road never took a second glance at where the Aranara would run behind his horse. The corpse on the Fontaine road didn't react to Nakara trying to prevent the massacre (he also might've been dead idk). The Harbingers didn't even notice.

"Nobody," Tartaglia replied, deciding it was probably best.

After the ceremony (which was exciting yet boring; lots of talking, but the prospect of it was exciting) Tartaglia took a moment to walk along the ice gardens (which are literally rock gardens but instead of rocks they have ice and ice sculptures).

"What was it that you were trying to convince me of, anyway?" Tartaglia asked the Aranara beside him, voice echoing in across the garden.

"Nakara has told you: 'She doesn't want you to throw your life away to the darkness', Nakara's words were exactly," the Aranara responded.

"I think you may know this by now but let me establish it: I hate indirection," Tartaglia sighed, but he couldn't be mad at his little friend. He'd grown too attached to the stubborn little creature.

"I was supposed to convince you not to become a Harbinger," Nakara said in an almost-whisper.

"Hah!" Tartaglia snorted, and then proceeded to laugh, which then turned into a very loud doubling-over laughter.

"What's so funny?" the Aranara was dense.

"It's just-" Tartaglia interrupted himself by laughing again. "You're such a failure!"

Nakara didn't know what to say to that. Honestly, they just didn't understand what was funny about failing so incredibly miserably at a mission that, now that they thought about it, was probably impossible because Tartaglia's whole life was dedicated to the Tsaritsa. Nakara must look pathetic- oh. That's why it's funny, Nakara understood.

They were a small, wobbling, waddling, bouncing little plant creature sent to stop one of the most powerful Fatui members out there from being more powerful, something they were so dedicated to that becoming a Harbinger plagued their mind.

It really was hilariously helplessly stupid.

"So then," Tartaglia caught his breath. "Who is this 'she'?"

"The Traveler," the Aranara said simply.

"Who?" Tartaglia asked.

"She said something about 'if Tartaglia stops being a Harbinger, then he'll probably stay in Liyue and maybe he and Zhongli will hook up and my ship will sail', but I don't know what that means," the Aranara continued with a shrug (somehow, even without distinguishable shoulders).

"That makes no sense," Tartaglia contemplated. "Who's Zhongli?"

"Nakara does not know. But it seemed that this mission was of utter importance so I sacrificed a lot to try and make it happen," Nakara sighed.

Little did they know it was just Lumine going through with a dare. An Abyss mage shipped Chili for some reason, even though the two haven't met yet. It had some kind of shipper sense that predicts the future. Anyway, it dared its Abyss leader lord woman Lumine to get something done about it, and Lumine ordered an Aranara to do so whilst chuckling to herself.

Yeah. Lumine legit is just chilling with the Abyss pranking and shipping people, livin' it up.

Anyway, Tartaglia shrugged it off. What a strange story that was. Now, though, he felt the need to meet this 'Zhongli'...

Tartaglia decided to ignore the whole ordeal, and instead tightened the clasp on his new Harbinger coat. Later that evening, he was to brawl with a Harbinger of his choosing. He had some training to do, some Harbinger badges to show off and order people around with, and an Aranara friend to take care of.

Feeling a smile grace his lips, he chuckled to himself in the quiet, isolated garden. He'd reached his ambition. Now all he had to do was get a new one, and pursue that. Tartaglia had never been proud of himself like he was now.

Tartaglia took a moment to soak in the fact that he was basically on top of the world, then turned toward Zapolyarny palace, breathing the crisp snowy air. What a day.