potential.

that was what you were always told you had since the day you were born. why? you weren’t completely sure yourself. maybe it was because of the fact that the 11th harbinger decided to take you in himself when he destroyed your village for the tsaritsa.

your earliest memory was being saved from a burning fire by someone wearing a fatui mask that you were oh-so-familiar with now. you lived under tartaglia’s protection as a kid and trained under him, in the ways of his master. he decided to mold you into a loyal fatui agent, the potential you had at such a young age was undeniable.

but he never expected you would find out the truth. from an early age, he twisted the truth about the fatui themselves - claiming that they were doing the right thing by killing off so many innocent souls and wreaking havoc. he knew it was wrong, but what else could he do? it’s better to be ignorant, right? you’d leave both him and the fatui without a second thought. for the lies, for the blood on your hands, that meant nothing now, for everything you’d done - what was it all for if not for nothing?

now the one who once stood proud before him, was the one bloodied on the snowy battlefield. with a tight grip on your blade, you slashed at his chest. to his surprise, it actually managed to cut through. he did teach you well, after all. but he quickly retaliated. with his hydro sword, he stabbed you through the shoulder on your good arm, a strategic attack to weaken you. he didn’t want to end your life, you were a great agent and quite honestly had the potential to become a harbinger.

...!

suddenly, he had you at his mercy, with his sword to your neck and his foot pressing down harshly on your stomach, he was basically pleading for you to come back join the fatui once more.

“things don’t have to be this way, y’know. we can forget about this and go back to normal, just pledge your loyalty to the fatui.” his words echoed in your ears, the cold winds howling loudly. “i only want the best for you.”