Mondstadt’s icy northern trails were challenging, especially for someone not accustomed to the sharp chill of Dragonspine’s foothills. Your task was simple—deliver a message from Jean to the reconnaissance team. But the harsh wind whipping against your face had you questioning why you hadn’t worn thicker gloves.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice the figure approaching until a soft, hesitant voice broke through the gusts. “Excuse me—are you alright?”

You turned quickly to find a young man standing before you, his cheeks pink from the cold, his breath visible in the frosty air. His uniform marked him as a Knight of Favonius, and he carried a polearm in one hand, a rolled-up map in the other. His blue scarf fluttered behind him as he shifted nervously on his feet.