Somewhere near Wolvendom, a hooded figure ran through the pouring rain. Her feet splashed against puddles as she hurried forward, clutching something tightly in her arms.
If one looked closely, they would see it—a baby, cradled carefully against her chest.
She ducked behind a tree, holding her breath as she waited for her pursuers to pass. After what felt like an eternity, she slowly stepped out from hiding and ran in the opposite direction.
After who knew how long, she finally found a house.
With trembling hands, she approached the door and gently placed the baby down on the doorstep.
"I'm sorry… my precious child," she whispered, her voice breaking. "I can't stay with you until you grow up. There are so many things I want to say… but time isn't kind to me."
She paused, her fingers lingering for a moment.
"Farewell… Etoma."
She knocked on the door—then ran.
Moments later, the door creaked open.
"Huh? Who is—"
A woman stepped out, her eyes landing on the baby.
She carefully picked the child up, noticing a small note tucked inside the cradle.
"Etoma… Is that this baby's name?"
She looked around, scanning the area for whoever left the child behind. Seeing no one, she sighed and scratched her head before heading back inside, closing the door behind her.
.
.
7 Years Later
"Here's your luggage. You're already seven—you can survive on your own now. Be grateful I even kept you this long. Now get out!" The woman shoved a small bag toward the child and slammed the door shut.
The child—small and frail, looking no older than five due to malnutrition—stood there in silence, confused. She picked up the bag and waited.
Minutes passed.
Then hours.
The sun began to set, her stomach growling louder with each passing moment. But the door never opened. Slowly, she set the bag down and opened it. Inside were a few fruits.
Nothing more.
She took one, closed the bag, and ate quietly. After finishing, she picked up her belongings and began to walk away. After a few steps, she turned back.
The house remained silent.
No one came out.
The door stayed closed.
It was no longer her home.
She turned forward again—and this time, she didn't look back.
.
.
No one knew how long the child wandered. No one knew what she endured along the way. Perhaps the gods pitied her, she eventually arrived at a large city—Mondstadt.
Her eyes lit up at the sight. Without hesitation, she ran toward it.
At the gates stood a guard in armor, holding a weapon.
What a cool person… she thought as she walked past.
Normally, entering the city required identification. But for some reason, the guard was distracted—yawning, his attention elsewhere. He didn't notice the small child slipping past him.
Inside, the city was alive. People walked back and forth, busy with their daily lives. The child stared in awe.
She wandered around, her curiosity guiding her steps, taking in everything like it was her first time seeing the world.
Then—
Her stomach growled.
She spotted a fruit stall and approached it hesitantly.
"Hello, mister… may I have one of those?"
"Hm?" The vendor looked around, confused.
"Umm… mister?"
He glanced down.
"Oh! Little miss, I didn't see you there. What do you need?"
"Can I have one of those?" she asked, pointing at the fruit behind him.
"Ah, a Sunsettia? Sure. That'll be three Mora."
"Mora…? What is that?" she asked, tilting her head.
"Huh?" The man frowned, then looked at her more carefully—her worn clothes, her thin figure.
"A beggar?!" he snapped. "If you don't have money, then get out!"
Startled, the child fell backward before quickly scrambling to her feet and running away.
After a short distance, she looked back. Seeing the man still glaring at her, she lowered her gaze and walked away clutching her stomach.
Later, she saw someone toss something into a metal container before leaving.
Curious, she approached it.
Inside—
A Sunsettia.
Part of it was spoiled, darkened.
But she didn't care.
She carefully ate around the bad parts, savoring what she could.
Afterward, she searched for a place to sleep.
In a quiet corner of the city, she found a small sheltered spot. Curling into herself, she hugged her knees and slowly closed her eyes.
.
.
1 Year Later
The child sat on a fence, swinging her legs as she watched people pass by. It's been a year, since she stepped into the city. She now has a proper "shelter" she called home. And bunch of "good" fruits she stored and called collections.
She hopped down and began walking.
"Hm… what should I eat for lunch? Should I use my collection? No… that's only for special occasions… grrr…"
Lost in thought, she didn't notice where she was going—
"Ouch!"
She bumped into someone and fell.
"I'm sorry! Are you okay?" a voice asked, offering a hand.
"I'm okay!" she replied, glancing at the "clean" hand before standing up on her own.
The boy pulled his hand back.
"Ahem… my apologies. I was lost in thought and didn't see where I was going."
"No, no! It's my fault. I wasn't looking either… Um… may I know your name, sir?"
"Sir?" he chuckled. "Aren't you a bit too formal?"
"Eh—um… sorry…" she muttered, looking down and fidgeting with her fingers.
The boy studied her for a moment, then smiled slightly.
"My name is Diluc Ragnvindr. What's yours?"
The child looked up at the red-haired boy.
"My name is…"
Etoma.
.
.
A/N: Are yall prepared for some knives? tho Im new in this genre, i won't hesitate to throw all my ammunition at yall.