Chapter Text
Knowledge is a precious thing.
There is not a single person in Sumeru who would challenge this phrase.
It entails power, the gift of being able to anticipate and react to any kind of event the natural world could probably throw at humanity. It is a pursuit of protection, of control, fickle as it may be. The world of Teyvat is inherently chaotic, the mixture of divine intervention and natural laws making for an ever-changing landscape, paradigms as swiftly created as they are disproven.
Despite that, pursuit of knowledge meant progress, crossing borders and gaining the ability to make life easier for everyone alive. Invention gave way to whole new frontiers of possibilities, new medicine, new techniques to construct, more ways to understand Teyvat and protect everyone’s way of life.
As long as you’d remembered, it’d been ingrained in your skull that giving your life to the endless toil of research was a beautiful thing. Everything had pushed you in that direction, from proud family members winking to you over your accomplishments in school, to the near-suffocating pressure to become a student of the sciences, no matter the cost.
The Akademiya was the perfect place to go to follow this path in life, the quasi-government and/or university, depending on who you asked, the sole place in Teyvat where knowledge flowed as freely as wine. Progress there moved incredibly fast, foreigners often finding the pace at which everything processed awfully stressful. It was a hard place to get into, the prestige awarded to the Akademiya over time causing the board of admissions to increase their standard for new students tenfold every new semester, but it was possible, and many succeeded in creating something stellar enough to pass the entry requirements.
You were one of them, having slaved away through your teens in order to make something worth existing, something that would justify your own belief, and that of your family, that you were meant for academics. You still remembered the beautiful day when the news had come in that there was a place for you. A feast had been thrown that rivaled entire festivals, your easy smiles only turning a bit forced once the sun had gone down.
The reason for your apprehension was common knowledge among people familiar with the Akademiya.
It was incredibly difficult to get in, but it was even harder to stay in.
Ignoring the deadly atmosphere of competition, which caused every social interaction between both students and professors to feel loaded, the standards of conduct and research were so high that even a single mistake could set you back an entire year. It was a common phrase amid the students that the Matra destroyed everything that didn’t adhere to the rules, and the professors destroyed the rest. A mere spelling mistake could cost weeks of research, and it wasn’t an uncommon sight to see students cry out and faint in the midst of the library.
Most dropped out after three years, feeling they were wasting their time, but you were still hopeful that if you could just hang on a little more, you’d succeed.
It'd been a rough journey, certainly. The board of admissions had openly stated you’d just barely scraped your way in, and this theme of minimal adequacy had followed you throughout your studies. For every course you passed, you failed two others, but even so, you’d managed to get enough points to try and finish up, to create your very own thesis. The requirements for even a small assignment were already painstakingly high, but even the genius students you’d worked alongside with had bemoaned and cried over this task.
Nevertheless, being a graduate would set you up for life, so you had to try.
Not to say all students at the Akademiya were there for the title and money, that would be unfair, but it was a high motivator, a whispered benefit after the long list of importance of research mentioned before. It’d been like that for you too. Sure, you’d been greatly interested in finding out the ins and outs of your research field, but you also knew there was no future in doing so if there wasn’t a paycheck involved. The Akademiya was expensive, the boarding, food and exams taking up a huge chunk of your mora every month, but the promise of your graduation paying itself back tenfold could make it worth it.
Not all of the mora could be loaned, so to pay for some of it, you’d made a habit of offering some assistance to professors and graduated academics. It gave good experience, and it helped with the monthly payments, though each month you had to dig deep within your savings to pay off some extra new fee. Like every institution, people without mora were welcome on paper, but driven away in practice
As if it wasn’t hard enough without the extra work.
To try and stay on top of all your work, you’d made a habit to basically live within the libraries. Forcing yourself to stay there worked as a motivator since it was awfully boring to just stare outside for hours on end. Even if it was purely on fumes, being there meant you got work done, perhaps meaning you’d get a little extra sleep later.
That same mindset had been getting you through today, but you weren’t going to last much longer.
You’d been reviewing some old legal Liyue texts for someone else’s thesis the entirety of the day. You’d searched through barely legible folders, increasingly frustrated at the jargon the dense laws kept throwing your way. It was way too much work for just a day, and the pay the frantic student had offered you was mere pocket change, but mora was mora, and it took your mind off your own deadlines, if barely.
The inside of your hand was cramping from the amount of writing you’d done, and soon enough, you’d need to stop, if only to make sure you’d still be able to write tomorrow, though you smiled to yourself as you realized that was just the utter boredom talking. It was amazing how the human mind could just lie to itself like that to get out of something.
Just before you’d planned to pack up and call it a day, the door to the library opened and a man stepped in.
A new visitor wasn’t exactly something to take notice of, though most students came in just as early as you did, most only leaving when the room was closed for the day. This one, however, immediately alerted anyone that wasn’t fully engrossed in their work.
With tan skin and red eyes that pierced through every single scholar present, the new arrival scanned through the room. His grey-white hair that just barely reached his shoulders gently shifting as he turned, though most of it was hidden underneath his hood. The imposing spear he fashioned was casually held by his side, and you quickly wondered how many people were allowed to walk through the halls of the Akademiya so openly carrying a weapon.
The present professor sitting by the entrance stood up straight and tried to gain his attention. “Greetings, can I assist you- “
He searched through the room, and when he made eye contact with you, his eyes narrowed.
The Mahamatra spoke your name, making you slowly stand up from behind your desk, a few other students pointedly looking in another direction as you walked past them. Just to be safe, you bowed your head in greeting.
He wasted no time. “I require your presence.”
“Of course.” Quickly gathering your stuff, you decided you wouldn’t waste his time by organizing all the texts you’d brought with you. That’d be a problem for midnight you, loath as you were to condemn future you to such a fate. Right now you had bigger things to worry about, like why the Matra needed to call you out of your work in the midst of the day.
Last time, it had at least been during your free time.
Asking what this interrogation would pertain in the midst of all these people would be social suicide. If it turned out he came here to accuse you of some misdoing, it would be better to respond in private quarters. The mere presence of the Mahamatra was already bad news for you, bad news for the thesis manuscript that was still pending with the professor that had tried to garner the man’s attention, who after being ignored started pretending not to watch as you walked towards the entrance.
A blockage formed in your throat as you realized you probably just wasted another month of your life on a rejection.
Cyno, as you knew he was called, glared openly at you as you passed by him, staying hot on your heel as you walked outside, the Mahamatra immediately passing you to lead you a nearby office that would do for a private discussion. He was going toward the exact same one as last time, you realized as you followed him.
Time moved slowly as you were ushered inside the office and sat down, blinking furiously and barely able to make eye contact as Cyno did not sit, instead standing quite close next to you as he crossed his arms. As you scuttled a bit further into your seat, trying to create some personal space, he huffed and took a step back.
“How many times do we have to do this?”
“I’m sorry, Mahamatra Cyno.” You looked down and placed your hands on your lap. “I do not know what you are referring to.”
“You were named as the research assistant of Kolwell. Is that correct?”
Kolwell?
“Yes. I believe so. As you know, I assist quite a lot of professors outside of classes and work.” You dug your memory for this specific afternoon you’d spent collecting data. Kolwell, a fatherly-looking man with excellent posture and a flair for dramatics, had asked you to precisely write down the exact position of the moon for an entire night. It’d been quite heavy on the math and overly sleep-inducing, but the instructions had been easy enough and in return for your work you’d been permitted to use his equipment as well as send through your boarding fee to him for one month. “I was made to precisely pin the position of the moon. It was related to a study of passing time, I believe?”
“Kolwell was investigating prohibited material.”
You had guessed that, seeing as you were again interviewed by the Mahamatra. The first time had been when you’d helped a student with linguistics research, only for that student to secretly include a small study on some prohibited texts and their origin, completely illegally. You’d only helped doing a literature study on grammatical structures, so you’d been let off the hook, but it wasn’t good that this happened again.
You could understand the constant violations of the code, however. Working at the Akademiya day and night made one desperate for an original and hard-hitting research subject, since anything derivative or uninteresting would just be shredded. It made sense that the most dangerous questions of human existence would hold an allure to the burned-out students and professors.
“I see.” You felt his eyes focused on you, and you composed your facial expression very deliberately, attempting to look as innocent as you were. “I did not know that. I merely offered him help with small tasks, and I am never told the actual research subject with any of the people I help, for fear of plagiarism, so I did not know.”
“They fear you’ll plagiarize them?” Came the sharp reply.
You blinked in shock. “No. Of course not. It is merely Akademiya culture to be highly protective of one’s research.”
“Do not lecture me on Akademiya culture. I am quite familiar with it.” Cyno stepped forward, reducing your personal space to zero, and he tilted his head. “There’s more, isn’t there?”
“I think I still have a copy of the findings, if that is what you want?” You were honestly grasping at straws, having no idea what you could say to diminish his suspicion on you. “Or I can show you the equipment I used?”
“There’s no need for that.” He said, before frowning deeply at your relieved sigh (you had no idea where that copy was and finding it would be a rather arduous task) and backtracked his previous words. “Nevermind. I do want to see those findings.”
Fuck. “Yes, of course. I’ll make sure I get those to you soon.”
“No. I want to see them now.”
It didn’t take a genius to see what he thought you’d do. He was worried you’d tamper with the paper.
You sighed and stood up. “Sure. I think it’ll be in my room, so if you’d follow me, I hopefully will have just placed it in my desk.”
The walk over to your room made you feel as ostracized as you’d ever been, vague friends you’d made along your studies pointedly ignoring you and even going out of their way to seem unaffiliated as you walked past them with the Mahamatra in tow. Cyno made no comment on any of this, either not noticing the stares, or uncaring of the fact.
When the two of you arrived at your room, he openly scoffed at the mess inside, opting to stay inside the doorframe while he watched you hurriedly try and find the findings he’d requested. Praising the archons inside your mind continually, you quickly found the papers and handed them over like they’d been coated in poison, eager to be rid of this entire ordeal.
He didn’t even look at them, callously holding them by his side, his eyes narrowing as you smiled to placate his bad impression of you.
It didn’t seem to work.
“I still do not trust you.” He fashioned his weapon, making you freeze, your eyes widening as he held out the spear with which he’d probably felled more criminals than you could possibly imagine. Fear of injury, of the feeling of that sharp metal cutting through you, made you a lot less eager to advocate your own case. His expression sharpened as you nearly tried to take a step back, confirming something you somehow couldn’t convince him otherwise of. “You are hiding something.”
The tip of the metal was placed delicately beneath your chin.
It took all you had not to cry.
“I swear I am not.” Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm. He would just take excessive anxiety as a sign of your guilt. This was the time to remain composed. You straightened your back and took a deep breath, forcibly fixing your expression until it seemed you were calm and unbothered by the weapon mere inches away from your neck. “I’m just trying to get through the Akademiya and graduate.”
He scoffed.
“I have heard those exact words fall out of guilty mouths time and time again.” Lowering his spear until the blade hovered mere inches above the ground, he took on a slightly more casual stance, having made his point. “We’ll see. Do not make me question you again.”
“Yes, sir.”
---
Your thesis was rejected.
It came as no surprise, but you still cried about it an entire night.
---
It took four days before the Mahamatra summoned you again, this time through a letter, making you go to a place outside of the Akademiya. The place he’d summoned you to seemed to be affiliated with the Matra, their like walking around with great familiarity.
You were escorted to the far-end of the compound, a guard letting you into the room Cyno was waiting for you in. When you stepped in, you looked around rather curiously. It seemed like a very simple bedroom, a small separate bathroom attached. Cyno was already seated at a small tea nook, and without him instructing you, you quickly sat down in front of him, absolute silence reigning as he pushed a few papers your way.
You’d arrived half an hour early to the time specified inside the letter, but he still scowled as if you’d shown up four hours too late. Quickly, you grabbed the papers and tried to read them, scanning for anything that sparked familiarity. Blood clots… seasonal variations in blood pressure… the effects of aging on said variety?
It was some sort of case-study, clearly in the field of medicine, but you weren’t familiar with the subject. It’d take some time to figure out what it was specifically studying, the jargon on the first page enough to already give you a headache. You looked at Cyno for clarification and he looked at you as if the paper he’d given you was sufficient to make you realize what this was.
“This is the third time.” He gruffly stated. By now, you made the assumption that the glare he constantly wore was something he couldn’t control, since surely a normal human would’ve at least eased up a little at least once by now, even by accident. “I am placing you under house arrest until your trial.”
“What... what did I do?” You slowly responded, trying to make sense of the situation.
“Do not play dumb.”
“I am not trying to.” With an anxious sigh, you leaned on the table. “Can you explain why you summoned me?”
“Your name was dropped in a high-stake case concerning research to extend life beyond regular mortal standards. I have found the findings you made and have concluded you could not have assisted without knowing the violating nature of your actions.” He crossed his arms. “I have made arrangements for you to remain under house arrest until the trial commences.”
Someone had named you? Who? Why?
“…but that isn’t my work.”
“No use denying it now. If you want to continue pleading innocence, do so at your trial.”
You blinked profusely, swallowing down your feelings and trying to stay calm and rational. Crying would serve no purpose, it would only make this worse. Despite knowing so, your eyesight clouded and a few rogue tears fell down your cheeks, and with the back of your hand you wiped them away, staying silent for a while to compose yourself. When your breath no longer felt shaky, and you were confident in your ability to speak without your voice breaking, you very slowly asked him the question at the forefront of your mind.
“Do you know when that’ll be?”
You felt gratitude as Cyno had waited for you to formulate your question, despite his glare being as icy as ever.
“Approximately two weeks to half a year.” He sternly admitted. “You can continue your research for your thesis under guided eye while staying here.”
You sniffled pathetically, and the sight seemed to spur the Mahamatra into action, the man standing up from his seat to leave.
Only when his back was turned to you did more questions suddenly flood your mind.
“Mahama- Mahamatra- Cyno!” As he ignored your cries of his title, you attempted to gain his attention by calling his name. To your surprise, he immediately looked up, seemingly jolted by the sound of his own name. You’d apologize for the indecency of your informal way of addressing him later. “I cannot afford the tuition of Akademiya. I assisted others in their research to pay for the fees, but if I am put under house arrest here, I will not be able to work, and I’ll be kicked out of the program regardless of the verdict the trial might put on me.”
“You do not have a benefactor?”
An ugly feeling rose up in your chest at the ease at which he’d assumed so, as if sponsors financially allowing you to rise through the school stress-free weren’t one of the most rare things to come by. “No.”
“I see.” He nodded as if he’d collected all the necessary information, and readied himself for the verdict. “Then I’ll inform the faculty that you’ll be out of the program until your trial. You’ll be able to return if the verdict is innocent.”
“Wait- what?”
Had he just kicked you out of the Akademiya?
…
He’d just kicked you out of the Akademiya.
Archons, that’d mean another two-year delay to graduating, at the very least. Even if you got out of here within the minimum two weeks, the talk of you being involved with illegal subjects would circulate around the school, and professors would reject your research just to be safe from the ire of the Matra. It’d take months for things to calm down, months you couldn’t afford, especially since no one would take you as an assistant after all this.
This was it, you realized, your shoulders sagging at the realization.
Should you just drop out? Leave it all behind? Go to Liyue and just apply for some pencil-pushing job there? Having gotten into the Akademiya in the first place was sure to serve as some qualification.
Immediately, you shook your head, memories of having pulled through worse odds resurfacing at the current stress. You’d made it through so much, you wouldn’t ever forgive yourself if you gave up so easily. All the work you’d done, all the nights of crying, had to be worth something. New determination forced you to push the words over your lips, already feeling their futility in the air.
“Do you know the name of the one who did the research? If I did work with them, perhaps I can explain myself.” Swallowing down your stress, you tried to remember the rumors you’d heard about the Mahamatra. He was fair and just. If you could offer proof of your innocence, he’d surely just let you go and resume your life.
This was just a heap of bad luck, and with his continued suspicion of you, it made sense that he wouldn’t assume the best in you. Inwardly, you cursed. Why couldn’t the people you aided ever just do the research they’d promised you they were working on?! “I honestly do not remember working on anything related to medicine or health, and I would have, since it is not really my area of expertise. I am sure this is just a misunderstanding.”
“Getting caught doing illegal research once could’ve been a misunderstanding.” Cyno turned around and walked to the front door, looking over his shoulder with the most scathing look you’d ever seen on the official’s face. “Thrice is highly unlikely.”
You silently watched him open the door, the creak pulling you out from a daze.
“Where are you going?” Your voice sounded very, very small.
He looked over his shoulder. “I have no reason to tell you.”
You looked down at the floor. “…Okay. Should I then go home now?”
“No. The Akademiya is biased territory. For both your safety and the objectivity of the investigation, you will stay here.”
Here? In this room?
“Can I get at least get my stuff?” Archons, you sounded defeated, the pitiful sound of your own voice serving to sadden you further.
You seemed to have reached the end of his patience, as he’d been ready to leave and clearly hadn’t intended on staying much longer. With a sigh, nevertheless, he relented. “I’ll make sure all the necessities will be sent to you. Now, I am leaving. If you try to escape, just know that I’ll hunt you down wherever you go. There’s no place I can’t find you.”
“I-uh- huh?”
As the door closed behind him, and the clear sound of a lock falling in place reverberated through the walls, you took another deep breath and looked around the lodgings.
Escape?
Did he really think you had it in you? Being at the end of the Mahamatra’s spear seemed like a certain way to prove yourself guilty, let alone the injuries you could potentially sustain in the process. No. Staying was the best option now. You’d show him. Till your innocence was proven, you’d play the model prisoner, this entire endeavor perhaps granting you some time to reflect on all that had happened, as torturous as that sounded to your ears.
It wasn’t all completely bad: the room seemed nice enough, the mattress thicker than the one you’d had in your own room, and the sheets smelled fresh. Staying here inside for possibly half a year though? You’d go insane, surely. Would he even allow visitors, or even come back long enough for you to ask him that? Perhaps this was the last you’d seen of him, the Mahamatra surely too busy to check up on you himself all the time.
Perhaps this was the last you’d see of anyone, for the foreseeable future. It’d just be you and these four walls, looming down at you until you’d plead guilty, even if it was a lie. There was so much to do, so much work to complete, and you could do nothing about it. With a soft heave, you stood up from the tea nook, crying at the overwhelming sense of powerlessness coursing through you.
Falling on top of the bed, you closed your eyes and screamed into the pillow.
This would be awful.
---
Without it even being that hard to admit, it’d been two weeks since your house arrest and you’d never been happier.
Who knew life was lighter and better without the constant looming threat of homelessness and failure hanging over you? There was no need to do research, there was no need to try and find opportunities to work, the only thing you had to do was amuse yourself throughout the days, which was easier than you remembered it being.
The stress of your future falling apart had subsided after the first few days, since you truly could do nothing to mend it, so why worry about it constantly? It wasn’t like you’d actually done anything illegal, so as soon as your name was cleared, things would be back to normal. Till then, you could just interpret this ‘house arrest’ as a forced vacation, one you secretly had been in need of.
Eight hours of sleep every night. Eight.
The mirror in the room showed a new you with a healthier color, the dark shadows under your eyes having faded after the first week. Your hands no longer cramped, and you felt stronger.
Since you did not have any pressure forcing you to hurry, your meals were spent savoring each bite, and the food you were given was pretty good! A guard of the Matra had removed the lock to your room within the first day, informing you that you were free to roam within certain areas, the gardens being one of them.
It was a beautiful place, and you’d spent blissful hours there, eating fruit and slowly reading bad pulp books, the utterly mindless kind that required nothing from you. A gardener had approached you and asked you to assist them with something, and without it turning into a big deal, you now regularly helped them, enjoying the menial labor in the Sumeru sun. It gave accomplishment you’d missed dearly.
The only thing obstructing your life of complete relaxation was the continual return of a certain high government official. For some reason, Cyno, who you’d made a habit of of calling him such since he continued to not respond to his title, came by remarkably often, every time claiming it to be for further questioning. Sure, you were sure you were looking quite suspicious, but assisting with illegal research unknowingly wasn’t worth a death penalty, right? You couldn’t understand why the Mahamatra seemed so obsessed with your case.
At first, it’d seemed to just be to bring you your own stuff. When you asked why he couldn’t have let a guard do something so simple, he’d cut you off with a speech on how if you were really innocent, you wouldn’t continually ask him to decrease security by letting low-ranked guards handle you. According to him, your question seemed basically like an admission of guilt.
Considering you weren’t even locked up and were free to roam, you’d wanted to ask what security he meant exactly, but that seemed counterproductive. Still, his words had left you a bit frazzled, upset at the way he never seemed to interpret your words in a kind manner.
After six or seven of these speeches, they did not affect you as much anymore, since deep down you wondered if Cyno just enjoyed your company.
He even came by with food sometimes, stating that it was his duty to make sure prisoners remained in good health. This struck you as even weirder, since surely he processed too many criminals to dine with each of them. Perhaps the rumors of the cruel and overzealous punishments that were dealt within prisons by the Matra’s were just exaggeration. If everyone got a ‘prison’ this nice, with soft sheets and plenty of books to entertain themselves with, you couldn’t understand why Sumeru had such a problem with runaway criminals.
You’d joked about this to Cyno, telling him you’d break the law in the future just to enjoy some time off, but he’d just scolded you and took it as further proof of your guilt. Perhaps it wasn’t a good idea to joke with a jailor.
Despite knowing that, you always invited him to eat with you, which he for some reason agreed to, and the dinners were always awkward incarnate. It seemed he had no idea how to behave with you outside of a professional role and you were too scared of him to be too extraverted, but instead of foregoing any attempt and just letting you be, he did try every time, puzzling you with weird comments and even weirder stories.
Most of the time you could just smile, blink and change the subject, but one moment in particular, you really hadn’t known how to respond. The two of you’d been eating dumplings in silence, when he’d suddenly looked up and with the most serious expression you’d ever seen on his face and said:
“In some ways, you and a dumpling are quite alike. The dumpling is trapped within the oppressive heat of the steaming basket, before being transferred to the prison of my stomach. In a similar fashion, you changed from the Akademiya to being under my watch.”
You’d just tilted your head and said a ‘huh?’ at which he’d clearly flinched, before immediately excusing himself to leave. Only later did you realize the famed Mahamatra had probably been trying to tell a joke, a rather distasteful one at that, and one you still didn’t really get. The next time he visited, you did your best to pretend it had never happened.
He didn’t get that same memo, retrying a large number of times with new jokes, each one worse than the last. Still, you could appreciate his way of trying to seem sympathetic. Perhaps the two of you had really just hit it off wrong and he was actually a pretty nice guy. All in all, it didn’t work against your case to at least endear yourself a little to him, and if that meant forcing a little laugh at the worst pun you’d ever heard in your life, that was salvageable.
After the first few weeks, he even started bringing gifts, at which point you started accepting he probably just liked you.
With the first one, a storybook about some dragon facing hero, he’d pretended like it was already yours, and he’d just forgotten to bring it along with the rest, but it only took a few weeks before he stopped keeping up airs, even bringing flowers, of all things.
Any remaining sort of professionalism went out the window when he’d very tentatively given you a box of playing cards for some game you’d never heard of before. It wasn’t long before the two of you were bent over the coffee table, cards scattered over the wood, laser-focused to try and beat each other. You’d yet to win, but you’d gotten close one time, and you noticed by his entire demeanor that he was still a bit sore about that.
It was during one of these games that you’d finally breached a subject you’d yet to bring up, for fear of ruining things. It had taken a lot to bring up the courage, but with how amicable things now seemed between you and Cyno, you felt it would be okay to at least ask.
“How’s my case going?”
Cyno finished his turn before speaking, taking suspiciously long to answer what shouldn’t be that difficult a question to respond to. “…It is a work in progress.”
“So, nothing has happened yet.” That was odd. “Aren’t I guaranteed a timely trial? It’s been two months by now, hasn’t it?”
“It might take quite a bit longer.”
“Why?”
“Do you really wish to go out there again? Back to the Akademiya?” His shift of subject startled you, and it seemed any comfortable ambiance had been drained from the conversation as he put down his cards with a surprising amount of force. “It drained you, both mentally, physically and financially.”
Forming a shaky smile, you also placed down your cards, trying to ready yourself for the conversation you’d started.
“I could’ve handled it. It was only supposed to be for a few months more.” With a nervous laugh, you tried to hide how uncomfortable his stern glare made you feel. “Though I think this entire affair has convinced me to just let it go. It’ll be a bit of a blemish on my record, but getting to lie down and rest for a few weeks has made me realize I am probably unsuited for a life in research. Everyone knows it doesn’t get easier after graduation.”
“How so?”
“I don’t miss it at all.” You admitted candidly. “I thought I loved doing research, loved reading, but since being here I think I might’ve just forced myself to do it. I’m not going to waste the rest of my life doing something that’ll only stress me out. I heard the merchant’s guild in Liyue harbor is always hiring drop-outs, so I might as well do that and try to actually do something I enjoy. Or at least, finding out what that is.”
Cyno had fallen silent, waiting until you’d completely dropped silent before uttering a small and whispered: “Liyue?”
You interpreted that as him being astonished of your far-reaching new dream. Surely it would seem weird to a graduate to hear such a wish. “Yeah! Here I’ll always remain a drop-out, if I stay. If I go there, I can build a new me!”
With eyes that looked like they'd just spotted a ghost, Cyno suddenly stood up with great urgency, his shoulders squared and his hood casting a shadow atop his face.
“I wish to make a deal with you.”
“Hmm? Is something wrong?” It seemed that despite your attempt to keep the conversation from getting too serious, you’d said something wrong, alerting the man in front of you immediately. No amount of crinkled eyes, dimples or high-pitched giggles ever seemed to do the trick with Cyno in distracting him. A shame.
“Yes.” He stated bluntly, looking at you with indecipherable eyes. “It is regarding your trial.”
“Oh. Okay?” Why was he bringing that up? “What kind of deal you mean? Like a plea deal?”
He shook his head.
“You’ll be found guilty. It is inevitable. The research you worked on made numerous violations, and mere knowledge of it already sentences you to a life in prison. Forget dropping out of the Akademiya, you will never see daylight again. Never.” The picture he was painting was horrid, fear of that outcome bubbling up in your stomach. Cyno seemed to appreciate your clear apprehension as he reached forward over the table to grab your hand and hold it. “There is another option, but I can only tell you what it entails if you say yes. What I can tell you right now, is that if you say yes, you will not want for anything. I promise in official capacity that I will do everything I can to make your life as pleasant as possible.”
“…It sounds as if you’re planning to sacrifice me.”
He took your words dead serious. “It is nothing like that. Please say yes.”
“…Can you really not tell me what it entails? It sounds pretty bad if you cannot even elaborate. I don’t want to be hurt or in danger, or anything like that.”
“No. Never.” He firmly stated, red eyes burning into yours and hands clasped around yours, the warmth of his fingers enveloping yours oddly uncomfortable due to the desperation he seemed to be pushed forward by. “You may find it… unpleasant at first, but I assure you that nothing bad will happen to you.”
“And the alternative is…”
“Getting locked away forever.”
“…” Ignoring the panic attack growing inside your lungs, you tried to logically think through your options. Cyno seemed desperate for you to accept his offer, more so than you’d ever seen him.
Something about this wasn’t right.
Why would prison be inevitable? You truly hadn’t done anything illegal. But if he, as Mahamatra, truly believed it was a done deal, shouldn’t you believe him? He was the one who decided what was just. If he thought this deal was a good one, surely you could believe his judgement? “Okay? I’ll agree to the… deal?”
Cyno sighed out in relief and, while still holding your hands, lowered himself beside you, now crouching mere inches away from you, his lack of respect for any sort of personal space returning. “Ah. That is a good choice.”
“So, what exactly- “
Before you could try and ask what the deal really entailed, Cyno leaned forward and pushed your hands over your head, locking them against the wall, his mouth on yours. The shock you felt at being kissed out of nowhere was immediate, your eyes open wide. On high alert, you made a noise of additional surprise when his free hand suddenly found your waist, pressing your two bodies closer than decorum allowed.
When he pulled away, cheeks flushed and his eyes lidded with desire underneath his hood, you could only blink and confusedly focus on the way your lips felt bruised. “Uh-uhh- what? Why- why are you- huh?”
“I am quite often called out for being socially oblivious, but you seem to be equally bad at it.” Cyno tilted his head, appraising your reaction. “Did you really not at one point think to question my feelings for you? I’ve been quite obvious, if I do say so myself.”
Yeah, you’d known he liked you, but this-
This wasn’t making any sense. Only when the taste of his mouth lingered did your body suddenly figure out what the mind already knew, that the Mahamatra had just kissed you. Completely shocked and incredibly uncomfortable by the callous way he’d suddenly surpassed your boundaries by a mile, you tried to pull your hands from his grasp.
He let go of you, and you immediately scooted away to the other edge of the room, your shoulders pressing against the front end of the bed. With a heated face and a heart thumping overtime, you looked at Cyno, who calmly had watched you move away. “Could you leave my room? I’d like to be alone.”
“This is my room.” Cyno bluntly said, slowly standing up before sauntering toward the door and turning the key, effectively locking the door. Your eyes flew to your key, which was supposed to be on the bedside table, but to your horror, it wasn’t there. “You’ve just been staying in it.”
You’d just wanted him to leave because you felt uncomfortable, but at the sight of him locking the door, a primordial fear seemed to seep from the floor, through your skin, and into the deepest recesses of your mind. This wasn’t funny anymore. “Why did you just lock the door?”
“Because you agreed to be mine.” After having closed the door, he just turned around and seemed to wait to see what you would do. When it became clear that if he didn’t move, you were frozen on the floor, he took a step toward you, creeping closer like he would jump on top of you any minute now. “You agreed to our deal. I save you from prison, and you stay with me.”
Incentivized by his clear intention to reach you again, to touch you again, you quickly moved around the bed to the other side, wanting as much space as you could get within these walls. “I never agreed to that.”
You’d never felt as locked up in this room as now, your mind mentally mapping where every object was put. The scissors, the breadknives, anything to defend yourself. The closest thing you could get was a book and a pillow, but it was better than nothing.
“You agreed knowing you didn’t know what the terms were. I’m telling you now.”
“Aren’t you the Mahamatra? How could you ever propose something like this? I’m not some prostitute you can just- “
The second you looked up to the ceiling in order to further enunciate your point, Cyno jumped over the bed and grabbed you, your entire body flung back on top of the bed and your arms pinned above you. You’d certainly yelped, but it had all gone too fast for you to properly scream in fear, and now, with red eyes burning into your own, and his hands making quick work of something at the head of the bed, you didn’t dare to.
It quickly became clear what he’d done, as when he pulled back his arms to sit atop of you, chest rising with deep breaths, you wanted to pull your arms back as well, only to find that you couldn’t. A slow look up cleared up the matter, two tight ropes tying your wrists to the head of the bed, quick tugs only feeling uncomfortable against your wrist.
Cyno climbed off of you, and that would’ve been a source of relief, had he not immediately returned to place himself between your legs, the man pushing apart your thighs so he could sit in between with ease. Every time you tried to move your legs shut, or maybe struggle a little bit so he’d fuck off, a quick, unenthused glare was sent your way.
A shiver ran down your spine when Cyno’s hands disappeared beneath your skirt.
“It is because I am the Mahamatra that I have to do something like this.” Enunciating each syllable with a tug to your underwear, the garment quickly found its way to the floor, your eyes widening as Cyno continued with bunching up your skirt to your waist, showing yourself to him fully. The sight made him, and you honestly didn’t want to believe you heard it right, whimper, before he continued speaking, as if nothing had happened. “You make me lose objectivity. Despite all the evidence I found of your innocence, I never once wanted to let you go. I even wanted to forge fake evidence just so I could keep you here longer. With me. I can’t have someone with that kind of power over me walk freely. It could risk everything.”
“…Are you serious?”
“Quite.”
Your voice, cracked beyond belief by the emotion you housed within you, sounded broken as you spoke. “Aren’t you supposed to be justice incarnate? How could you- “
“I didn’t kiss you just so you could argue with me. My mind has been made. We’re doing this, no matter the consequence. I can’t seem to force myself to do anything else.” Interrupting you, he placed a finger on your lips and pushed your head back into the pillow, a small, but shaky, smile forming on his face, in what you could only describe as an attempt to comfort you. “You can try to persuade me all you want… but do it later. Right now, I don’t think anything could convince me to stop.”
“…” Your lips started wobbling, your chest contracting with hurt as you realized what he was saying. He’d force you to be his? What did that even mean? Did he want you to pretend to be in a relationship with him, or did he just want to fuck you? The mere idea that someone you’d come to begrudgingly like over the last few weeks would discard your autonomy so easily, hurt immensely. “How could you say something like that? Forge evidence? Force me to be yours? How does hurting me come so easily to you? I thought we were- “
“Friends. Acquaintances. Vague companions.” He filled in hurriedly, hands on the inside of your thighs forcing them apart, his strength greater than all your combined struggles. “I can’t do that. I’ll never be able to. I’d rather love you fully and have you hate me than not be able to love you at all.”
“What is all this coming from?! You hated me! Hated my guts! You never believed me even when I told you anything. You-“Gagging over your own words, the admittance of your feelings made you truly feel helpless as nothing in his expression changed. The fear you’d felt during every meeting with him, always wondering if the façade of friendship he offered would turn sour, always thinking back on the time the metal of his spear had touched your chin. “You meant to kill me, and now suddenly you- you-”
That made him look up, confusion apparent in his eyes. “That’s not true.”
“So, the spear against my throat was just my imagination?”
“I never did that.”
“You did.”
“I didn’t. I would never.” He shook his head at the impossibility of the thought. “That’d go against everything I believe in. Everything I feel for you.”
“And yet you did.” You instantly shot back, the words out before your tongue could properly form them. “Back when you accused me for the second time. In my own room, you threatened my life.”
He quieted and looked into the far end for just a second, the bedstand infinitely far away in his eyes, before focusing his gaze back to you, sporting a near pitying look. A small smile appeared on his face, the sight once so precious now filling you with utmost disgust. The patronizing asshole. How could a man like this have ever made it so far in life? No. That was a wrong assumption. It was exactly because he was like this that’d he’d done so well. An obsession with whatever he was pursuing suited him.
You were just unlucky it’d been you.
He placed his hand on your face, cradling your cheeks and wiping your tears in a motion meant to calm. His red eyes seemed to burn into yours, the stern look you’d once mistaken for distaste now incredibly clearly a look of utmost desire. You didn’t have to look down to know he was hard just from watching you tied up. That depraved degenerate.
“I am not an idiot. I know this all must feel like betrayal.” It seemed he’d made up his mind, not believing you till the last second. “I’ll try to make it up to you, one day at a time. Perhaps one day you’ll thank me for getting you out of the Akademiya.” He chuckled to himself, “Though if you ever wish to return, perhaps it’d help having already slept with the one in charge.”
Was he… joking?
Your tear-clad expression turned to one of pure fury, the indignation you felt as the man who was planning to assault you tried to crack a joke. He noticed and rolled his eyes, shaking his head as you tried to struggle out of his grasp with renewed energy. If only your hands hadn’t been tied, you would punch him until goddamn pulp remained.
“My apologies. That was uncalled for.” Despite the admission, his hand disappeared between your legs and the tip of his finger started teasing your entrance, collecting wetness stroke by stroke, his expression not changing in any tangible way as you cried out and tried to squirm away. “I just wanted to lighten the mood. You’re very tense.”
Despite admitting you were clearly not ready physically, he plunged his entire finger inside of you, breathing out compliments when he could reach deep within you, his finger encased within the heat of your body.
“Don’t.” You whispered, your body starting to freeze up, the previous violence having left your body the second he’d entered a finger, every single muscle inside your body suddenly motionless with fear. “Betrayal isn’t supposed to feel light.”
“You say that, but there’s a flush on your face.” He curled his fingers inside you, making you clench your legs with discomfort. “You feel very warm, and you can try to stifle how I make you feel, but it’s achieved little success. It’s natural, just give into it.”
Your voice was very small when you replied. “Please stop.”
He stuck his tongue out while still making eye contact and slowly descended his entire body between your legs until his face was level with your pussy. He took a deep breath, reveling in the experience, and before you could repeat your plea for him to stop, the entire length of his tongue was firmly pressed against you, pulsing against your clit.
He didn’t break eye contact, even when he very slowly dipped his tongue inside you, joining his finger, moaning when your arousal coated his taste buds.
You repeated yourself, trying to sound more steadfast, yet failing spectacularly. “Please, Cyno, don’t- don’t do this.”
“Hm. No.” He said between kisses to your pussy, his cheeks flush and his pupils larger than you’d ever seen them. “I might seem quite cavalier about it right now, and I understand why you’re upset, but this is for us. I’ll allow you to be angry for a bit.”
Anger was the last thing you felt currently. You were just outright terrified, both of the man eating you out, as well as what would happen to you after this. He’d send you to prison if you weren’t submissive during this? If you didn’t let him do what he wanted to your body? Getting locked up would be agony, but this wasn’t any less so.
Your wrists tensed every now and again, trying to break out of the bindings he’d placed, bindings that had been hidden just behind the bedstand, proving to you he’d either done this before, or had been planning this for a while. Neither boded well for you.
Cyno just hummed and continued, breathing heavily as he continually fingered you while licking your cunt, his tongue harshly lathering every part of your pussy in spit, all the while he seemed to enjoy himself more than you ever could. He didn’t say a lot, but groaned deeply masculine noises of enjoyment, breaking the silence so you didn’t have to.
Eventually, he seemed to want to increase the pace. When the wet muscle was roughly pushed against your clit, this time much harsher than he’d done before, your entire body convulsed, overwhelmed by the pressure such a simple motion ignited inside you. Your legs started shaking as he continued abusing your clit, both his lips wrapped around and sucking.
You threw your head back to look at the ceiling, the lust-filled eyes burning into yours even as he ate you out too intense to continually face.
From merely playing an innocent card game, to being tied to a bed and eaten out by your jailor, the whiplash it gave you was immense, your heart painfully compressing inside your chest. Every attempt to calm down and think this entire situation through was sabotaged by Cyno’s incessant tongue, his enthusiasm while licking and suckling sabotaging any attempt inside your body to come up with a plan.
He wasn’t the most refined at this, nor was it by any standard a practiced feat he performed, but his sheer enthusiasm as he ate you out was horrifyingly stimulating, your entire lower body ignited with constant pangs of pleasure. Your breath grew shorter as he continued, either indicating a panic attack or an orgasm, both equally likely.
Forget thinking of a plan, thinking at all was getting hard with the number of sensations flying through your body. Whenever you thought he was taking a break, he’d quite literally slurp your juices, pumping his fingers and curling them in a motion so maddening, your entire mind blanked with a vague sense of panic and pleasure. Archons, you shouldn’t cum. You really shouldn’t. Something like that would haunt you.
Life after this felt distant, the present moment lasting eternity, but you knew what you’d feel if you actually came on his tongue and fingers. The guilt, the shame, the utter despair at having enjoyed what should be disgustingly hurtful. It was natural to cum, you told yourself as he sucked on your clit again and your entire butt lifted off the mattress to chase the feeling, but you’d never forgive yourself. Knowing it wasn’t your fault wouldn’t change a thing.
Cyno, oblivious to your internal monologue, just continued, increasing his tempo whenever you squealed or squirmed in a way he clearly found pleasurable.
Just a bit more, a bit more, and it’d happen, you realized, feeling your entire body reach for him, toes curling and pussy pressed into Cyno’s face, who caught the hint and increased his pace, his free arm wrapping around your ass to push you as close to him as possible, cutting off his own oxygen. When you were close- so close- he suddenly lifted his mouth from your cunt and took a deep breath, smiling contentedly
“I touched myself before coming here, you know.” He admitted shamelessly, pumping his fingers inside ruthlessly still, the wet sounds it produced along with the constant barrage on your insides causing those same traitorous shivers to rack up your spine, your pussy squeezing down on his fingers against your will, still chasing that orgasm he’d denied you unknowingly. Cyno seemed enraptured by the entire experience, speaking more animatedly than you’d ever seen him, his free hand never stilling in its constant journey across your thighs, up to your stomach, cupping your tits under your shirt before lowering to your tummy. “I knew I wouldn’t last long without doing so. I’d probably have cum just like this, listening to you, touching you like this.”
“You’re disgusting.” You whispered, looking away from him. The ceiling was much safer to stare at, though you couldn’t anticipate what he’d do next, which made the curls of his fingers feel that much more sudden. “I h-ah-hate you.”
Cyno ignored your insult.
“When I cum, I want to be inside you. I want to fill you up, make sure no part of your body remains untouched. I want you to cry and cry for me until I’ve had enough Until you can’t even remember all the things you’ve said tonight. All the things you didn’t really mean.”
“I di- ahh! Oh, archons- I did mean- “
“You did mean all that?” His tone bordered sarcastic, his fingers pumping inside you with even more fervor than before, seemingly to try and prove a point, his thumb hovering over your clit, giving you the feeling your body so desperately wanted. “You know that if you did mean that nonsense about hating me, I’d have to increase my efforts substantially. Fuck you until no such memory exists within you anymore, that sort of thing.”
“I-“ You tried to make sense of your scrambled mind, warring instincts telling you different things to say. A part of you wanted to give in, a part of you wanted to rebel just to prove a point, a different part wanted to rebel just to experience the horrid bliss he was proposing. The largest part of you wanted to curl up and cry. Despite all the conflicting voices, you just mumbled the first thing that came to mind. “I- I don’t want you to do that.”
“So, you didn’t mean it?”
“… I don’t know.”
He tilted his head, investigating you as you looked away. Your lips were trembling, and you were sure you looked like a mess, cheeks stained with tears, hair frizzy and lips bruised. It didn’t seem to change his mind.
“Perhaps it’s best if I let completely loose today, until you beg me to stop.” He sternly decided, promising you the most vulgar punishment you'd ever heard of without any change in inflection, glaring down at you as he repositioned himself between your legs, a rock-solid bulge pressing down on your cunt, your pussy squeezing down painfully, begging for him to finish what he’d started. “Just to make sure you understand how serious I am about this.”
As if he had to prove that any further.
Memories of spending time with him suddenly felt very ironic. From innocent meals spent across from each other to him threatening to find you if you ever escaped your house arrest. Back then, you’d felt his words were incredibly unnecessary, your belief in the integrity of the system making you feel so stupidly secure. The Matra were supposed to be justice incarnate, right? You’d believed this as you were wrongfully indicted, as you were threatened and incarcerated, even though you knew you were innocent. The signs had been there.
Right in front of you.
Knowledge was a precious thing.
And you wished you’d known to run