#not sure yet but guizhong pov eventually haha

[yuesya]

The chains dissolve.

But the bird has no time to dwell upon its sudden freedom from the water-chains that the Lord of the Vortex had bound it and its new master with. Above them, the Lord of the Vortex thrashes and roars. The deafening sound rings in the bird’s ears, rattling its bones and turning its blood into ice.

Even so, the bird does not allow itself to remain still. It does not require a verbalized directive to automatically dive towards its new master, reflexively shielding them from the torrential wave of Hydro that sweeps over them both. The young god’s Anemo energy flickers dangerously as it wanes, and the bird acts to shield its master.

In the next moment, both of them are drenched in the divine serpent’s blood, buried beneath the heavy outpouring of red-violet blood cascading down from the raw, glistening wound on the Lord of the Vortex’s open neck.

… Beheaded.

The new master had just beheaded Osial, the Lord of the Vortex. A feat that no other god had accomplished before her. The young god had cut off one of the divine serpent’s six heads with nothing more than a mundane mortal blade, even, and that was–

Unthinkable, in many ways, for many reasons. And yet it was undeniable; the bird has just witnessed this with its very own eyes, and there is no refuting the current reality.

Around them, Hydro energy rages relentlessly, spurred on by the pain and fury of the Lord of the Vortex.

… The Hydro god’s decapitated head had dissolved the moment it touched the ground. And in the very same instant the bird had felt a foreboding chill–

For the Lord of the Vortex’s head had brought forth upon the surface world the dreadful currents of the deep. 

The results of such a thing are… disastrous, catastrophic. Rolling hills and grassy earth disappear rapidly beneath churning waves that rise ever higher with each passing moment of the Lord of the Vortex’s unbridled wrath, landmarks sinking entirely under the growing flood. 

The bird does not know the fate of the humans who had escaped the catastrophe of battling gods earlier, but… looking at this now, there is no doubt that the living creatures of this land have been pulled down into a watery grave.

… And above them, there is still Hydro-infused rain thundering down from the heavens.

…

The unnatural flood and rain… all of it is being amplified by the Hydro god’s blood, exacerbated by the corrupted divine essence that continuously pours into their surroundings even now.

It is all the bird can do to maintain a pitiful Anemo barrier, desperately shielding its new master behind it. Because even though the master had beheaded one of the Lord of the Vortex’s six heads, they had not raised any barrier to protect themselves from the aftermath –and there is precious little Anemo energy that the bird, a creature of Anemo itself, can sense from the young god.

The master cannot fall here.

The bird does not know why this thought occurs to it, but nonetheless it realizes–

“Are you protecting me?”

It’s less a question and more of an observation that falls from the young god’s lips. But there’s nothing derisive in her words. Rather, if anything, it sounds as if she is almost… perplexed.

The bird doesn’t understand.

“Yes,” it responds to the god anyways.

“… Don’t do that.” A soft sigh. “You’re draining yourself of all your Anemo energy with this barrier, and it’s killing you. Stop it. It’s unnecessary.”

“But–”

“I’m not that easy to kill. And even if I die, then it simply means I wasn’t strong enough,” the god shakes her head. “So stop this already. I don’t need or want anyone to die for me.”

… What?

The bird blinks, uncomprehending and at a complete loss as to what its new master means. When it had been chained in service to the Mistress of Dreams, the god had been very clear that all its thralls only existed to serve and carry out her will. To bleed in her name and lay their corpses upon her altar in faithful reverence at her command, for she was their god–

“… I don’t understand,” the bird whispers. “Master–”

“I’m not your master,” the girl-god tells him.

The bird… doesn’t understand.

“You don’t understand, do you?” the young god tilts her head. “Well. I don’t understand you, either. Why are you even still here?”

The bird is a weapon and a tool that belongs to its master. Where else would it go?

I’m not your master.

But–

“You should run, before it’s too late.” The young god turns her gaze upwards, towards where the howling bestial form of a monstrous serpent can be seen. Above the watery depths that they have been buried under, there is a distorted dark mirage floating above the crushing waves. The Lord of the Vortex. “The fight isn’t over yet. Not until I’ve cut off all five of the sea snake’s remaining heads.”

The bird stares at its god, who speaks these startling words so serenely. As if she is still in any shape to continue fighting, when even the bird can already sense that there is only a fragment of Anemo energy remaining in her body–

But she is still holding her sword.

… A simple, undecorated sword. One of mortal steel, yet somehow has, through an unknown turn of fate, come to be wielded in the hands of a fierce god.

The white-haired god steps forward, head lifted upwards, slashing high–

And following the line of her sword, the churning waves pressing down on them part instantly, forming a path that points directly to the Lord of the Vortex.

“Foolhardy little god. You dare challenge Osial of the Deep, upon the very waters that I command?”

The rising flood and relentless rain threatens to drown out the entire world around them. The bird can feel the way that its heart beats a panicked rhythm inside its chest, but–

“Your little rain means nothing to me,” the girl-god says, leveling her blade and preparing to strike. “Even like this, I am still a God of Storms.”