Genshin Impact:-What if the Sovereigns Started a War

Tera's black hair shimmered in the soft morning light, his green eyes bright beneath his delicate, child-smooth skin. Behind him came Merry—her striking white hair brushing against her cheeks, violet eyes sparkling mischievously. Her slightly tanned skin made those pale features stand out all the more, as if the sun and moon had made a child together and then handed her a basket of trouble.

The moment they stepped inside, Tera rushed toward Elynas with excitement. Merry trailed after him, trying to balance the small bundle of herbs in her arms.

Granny Suri squinted over her glasses. "I asked you to bring those ingredients *to me*, not parade them in front of the guest like you're serving salad to royalty! How's she supposed to chew them raw, hmm?" She sighed deeply, rising from her stool and marching off toward the kitchen with all the weight of a general leading a war effort.

"And you two want to become Royal Knights… Saints preserve us."

Elynas perked up immediately, the word Knight snapping her thoughts like a taut string.

"Knights?" she echoed, eyes shining. The word tickled her memory like something out of a fantasy novel—the kind the elegantly dressed women whispered about during long Fontaine tea hours.

"There are knights here?" she asked, a wide smile blooming across her face.

"Of course," Granny Suri replied, already halfway into the kitchen. She took the herbs from the kids with an exaggerated huff. "Don't tell me you ain't got knights where you're from?"

Elynas blinked, then nodded quickly. "We do! I've read about them. I just didn't know there were real ones here too."

Merry puffed up her chest. "We're gonna join the Royal Guards someday! We'll protect the Aethercastle, and then maybe even travel to other cities!"

Tera grinned, bumping her shoulder with his. "And we'll have swords and cool cloaks and get free food everywhere!"

"You already steal food," Suri grumbled from the other room.

"We Borrow it!" Merry shouted back, crossing her arms.

Tera turned to Elynas again, his voice dropping into a more serious tone—well, as serious as a ten-year-old can sound. "You should join the Guard too! It will be so much fun if there are more friends, won't it?"

Elynas paused. The warmth in her chest was almost foreign.

"I'd like that," she said softly. "If you'll have me."

"You'll be the best one!" Merry said proudly. "We'll all be knights together."

And for the first time in what felt like a very long time… Elynas felt like maybe, just maybe, she belonged.

In the distance, near the colossal, frozen head of VlastMoroz, a figure stepped out of nowhere—emerging not through space, but absence.

Morven appeared before her.

His translucent cape drifted behind him like a shroud of mist. Pale, dread-glazed eyes stared out from a face carved in solemn stillness. He was tall, almost too tall—ethereal in form. His semi-transparent skin shimmered like frosted glass, threaded with glowing blue veins that pulsed softly beneath the surface, as though his very essence obeyed rhythms unknown to mortals. Long silver hair floated around him, weightless and slow, catching light like moonbeams on still water.

"Mother Rosen," he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper, yet heavy with impossible weight, "I have completed my task."

He raised a hand, fingers like blades of glass. The air around him vibrated.

"This realm—originally wrought by Asmoday—is now connected to Teyvat. But Nyxhara is not under the protection of the Shades like Teyvat is. The laws that govern Life, Death, Time, and Space… here, they vary. They shift."

He paused, almost as if the air itself protested being spoken through.

"Yandelf has taken the role of stabilizing the spatial weave. The structure is dense—Asmoday built it with energy so refined it resists erosion. A prison and a sanctuary both."

A flicker of blue danced across his skin.

"Kaelya, as always, remains master over Life—but Death and Time are… difficult. Slippery. Hostile, even."

VlastMoroz's eyes opened the barest fraction.

Galaxies swirled inside.

"What does that mean, Morven?" she asked. The cold in her voice was not frost—but age.

"You know it, Mother Rosen," Morven said, his voice quieter now. "It means Time in Nyxhara flows like a broken river… and those who die here will not be accepted by any leyline."

He looked up at her, unblinking.

"They will vanish. Forever."

"Morven," VlastMoroz whispered, her breath thinner than mist, "do not focus on balancing the flow of Time between the realms."

"Simply maintain the current within this one."

Morven's eyes flickered, uncertain.

"But if we travel to Teyvat," he murmured, "the era we arrive in… will be unprecedented."

VlastMoroz's eyes closed once more, slow as the falling of a star.

Morven bowed his head. "As you wish, Mother."

And then he vanished.

Five years later, in Nyxhara…

In the quiet village of Roselight Hollow, by the old well where morning glories crept up the stone rim, a sloped-roof cottage nestled among the trees.

Inside, sunlight filtered through sheer curtains, painting golden trails on the floor.

A girl with chestnut-brown hair stood by a small wooden table, her dark eyes smiling up at the gazing sun. Her steps were light, almost dancing, as she flitted around the room, folding clothes, gathering supplies, stuffing small dreams into the seams of her backpack.

"Are you ready?" Granny Suri asked, stepping inside with slow, heaving breath. Her cane tapped softly against the wooden floor, her frame thinner now, but her stare no less sharp.

"Almost, Grandma," Elynas replied, grinning as she zipped up her bag.

Granny Suri squinted, then raised her wooden spoon like a sacred relic.

"Since you're off to that fancy Knight Academy in Arian Core," she said, tapping Elynas on the forehead with a practiced thwack, "don't go making eyes at every boy with a shiny blade. Focus on your dream, not on their jawlines."

"Come on, Granny, you're no fun," Elynas laughed, slinging the backpack onto her shoulders with practiced ease. "How do I look?"

Granny Suri looked her up and down, lips pursed.

"Like you're about to fall off a horse and into trouble," she muttered. Then, softer, "But also… like someone who's ready."

Just then, the door creaked open.

Tera and Merry stepped inside, their shadows stretching long into the room.

"Are you ready, Elynas?" Tera called out, flashing a grin. "We're here to pick you up. The carriage is leaving soon."

His voice had the smug edge of someone who knew exactly how dramatic he sounded—and enjoyed it far too much.

---

On the edge of Roselight Hollow…

Tera and Merry hugged their parents tightly beneath the swaying branches of the cedar trees, bags strapped to their backs and excitement masked under nervous smiles.

"Don't either of you dare slack off or mess around," Tera's mother warned, her voice firm as she adjusted his collar with battlefield precision. "If I hear from the Academy you did something stupid, I'll ride to Arian myself and drag you home by the ear."

Merry's father, a weathered man with laugh lines and a permanently raised brow, patted her gently on the back.

"And you—don't let yourself get charmed by other boys. And keep an eye on that one—" he jerked a thumb toward Tera. "—he might try putting some moves on you when no one's watching."

"Dad!!" Merry blushed furiously, cheeks puffed in protest as she yanked herself free. "How can you say that in front of everyone?!"

"Now, now," Granny Suri huffed, hobbling over and smacking the back of Merry's father's head with her trusty wooden spoon. "Let the kids leave with a good mood, not with trauma."

"Owch!"

Everyone burst into laughter. The road ahead shimmered faintly in the morning sun as the carriage waited. With final waves and promises to write, the trio departed toward the famed Knight's Academy.

---

In Arian Core, Aethercastle…

The throne room was quiet, echoing with the hum of power and politics. Polished stone floors reflected crystal chandeliers, and marble pillars climbed like frostbitten towers toward the high glass dome above.

Orion sat upon the throne, a crown of cold silver and starlight resting on his head. His robes were deep navy, threaded with silver filigree resembling constellations entangled in vines. Small gems were set along the sleeves—each one representing a noble house of Arian, and each glimmering like trapped tears. A silver sash curled across his chest like a comet's tail.

His gaze, however, was empty. Not cold from cruelty, but carved from weariness. The face of a young king who had already seen too much.

Before him, the nobles argued once more.

"Arian needs to establish laws against the movements of the other Sovereigns," one said, pacing with a clenched fist. "Every time our Knight Battalions venture into Nyxhara, disputes erupt between our subjects and theirs."

Another noble snapped back, rising from his chair. "How dare you speak like that? The Sovereigns built this realm. Without them, Arian would be little more than a snow-drowned relic!"

"Enough." Orion's voice was quiet, but it cut through the noise like drawn steel.

The room fell silent.

"It is about the Sovereigns," he said, fingers steepled. "Because of the last… pretend war, mistrust lingers. Subjects on all sides carry scars, and none of them remember why they bled."

He stood, the weight of the crown shifting ever so slightly.

"So instead of crafting fragile laws and hiding behind ink and parchment, I declare this: we begin hosting events. Open forums, trade exchanges, festivals if needed. Let the people of Arian and the Sovereign realms see each other without armor. Let us solve misunderstandings through shared space—not separation."

Silence. Then murmurs.

Orion sat back down, gaze unreadable.

Inside, he wondered how long he could keep pretending that he doesn't miss his beloved or don't Think about what happened with his and Frieda's child.