The Cryo Sovereign's Secret

Windrise, Mondstadt

The air was cool. The wind gentle, like a lullaby whispered by the gods themselves.

Beneath the ancient tree of Windrise, Frieda's eyes fluttered open.

A breeze tugged at her hair, sunlight danced through the canopy above, and the rustle of leaves carried a distant song only the wind could hear.

She blinked. Sat up slowly.

A modest beige dress clung to her gently, paired with soft white shoes. Her breath caught as she looked down.

"What's going on... Orion...?" she muttered.

Her hands trembled in front of her. Familiar. Unscarred.

"These are... my hands from before Orion and I became one..."

Her voice cracked slightly—half wonder, half fear.

A rustle above.

"Oh~! Looks like you have quite a tale for me."

A sing-song voice floated down like wine-soaked poetry.

Venti, the Windborne Bard himself, lounged lazily on a thick branch, legs dangling like a boy with no wars to fight and too many secrets to sing.

A lyre lay across his lap.

A smirk tugged at his lips.

"Barbatos...?" Frieda narrowed her eyes, confusion sharpening to suspicion.

He just winked.

---

Roselight Hollow, Arian

The gentle chirping of birds outside mingled with the scent of herbs and stew long gone cold.

Inside a humble wooden house buried in flowers and old magic, Elynas stirred.

"Where... am I...?" she whispered, her voice hoarse like it had rusted from disuse.

She blinked at the wooden ceiling, trying to place the woven tapestries and strange warmth around her.

Then—

A spark in her chest.

A memory.

"Big Brother... Orion...?" Her voice cracked again, this time with a hint of panic. She sat up, clutching the blanket.

From the far side of the room, someone else groaned.

Grandma Suri stirred awake, bundled in her worn bed like an ancient burrito of grump and wisdom.

"Oh, it's morning already...?" she muttered, yawning like a bear with arthritis.

Her eyes found Elynas immediately.

Sharp. Warm. Knowing.

"And our guest is finally awake..."

She glanced around, noticing the absence of youthful chaos.

"Tch. Rascals. Left without saying goodbye while I fell asleep."

She squinted at the doorway. "If I find crumbs or muddy boots on my carpet again, I'm tanning both their hides with an enchanted spoon."

She turned to Elynas with a soft sigh, brushing her wild hair back from her own face.

"You must be hungry. And confused. And probably a little angry at the world. Good. That means you're alive."

A bed nearby rustled violently.

"Uuuuugh... whose baby is here?!"

Citlali, wild-haired and pillow-faced, sat up with a groan that could wake the ancestors.

She rubbed her head like she'd been headbutted by a yaksha in her dreams. Her hair was an explosion of sleepy fury. Her pajama top read: "Volcano Mode: Always."

She squinted.

"WHY—"

She paused.

A tiny, crying grown-boy flopped helplessly in the middle of her house like a sad puppy in human form.

She blinked twice.

"...Did someone put a toddler in a full-sized man's body and leave him here?"

She reached for her pillow and hugged it like a teddy bear, staring with one eye open and faceplamed her head.

"Ugh no, I brought this baby of a man home yesterday. Ugh...."

---

Just beside her, another figure groaned awake.

Felix.

He sat up slowly. A sharp pain in his chest made him wince—memories echoing like broken reflections.

"Orion..." he whispered. The name sat on his lips like a prayer and a curse all at once.

He glanced around—stone walls, woven rugs, drifting ash outside the window.

"Where... am I?" he muttered.

Then looked forward.

What he saw:

A stranger boy flailing around like a drunken giraffe baby,

A girl in flaming hot pink pajamas holding a pillow like her life depended on it.

Nyxhara – The Womb of Arian

The air shimmered with pale gold, light seeping through unseen cracks in space itself. The grass beneath him was impossibly soft—warm, humming with Aether.

Orion stirred.

His eyelids fluttered open slowly, the world rushing in as shapes began to form.

Figures.

Faces.

He was surrounded.

Seraphyx stood to one side, his radiant wings folded neatly, a flicker of quiet relief in his normally stoic expression.

Kaelya knelt at his feet, her expression a blend of tenderness and clinical analysis, already scanning his soul threads for trauma.

Ignarion and Morven stood at opposite ends of the circle, arms crossed, watching silently—like loyal sentries guarding something sacred.

And just ahead—

Minerva.

Her breath hitched. Her eyes welled up.

Then—

She leapt forward and embraced him.

Royal robes rippling behind her, the Queen of Arian crumbled into the arms of her returned son.

"Do you have any idea..." she choked, voice breaking, "...how worried I was?"

Her fingers dug into his back like she could anchor him to this realm by sheer force of motherly will.

"Mother Seraphyx wouldn't tell me anything—where you went, what happened, why you disappeared again... and now you just—appear—back here, unconscious like a sack of frostbitten apples!" she sobbed, pulling him tighter.

"Why can't you ever return safely? Just once?"

Behind her, Orion the First stepped forward—his usual calm fractured by a tight frown and glistening eyes. He knelt and wrapped his arms around them both.

"Orion, my son…" he whispered, voice hoarse with held-back emotion. "Thank the stars you returned to us."

---

Orion blinked slowly, still dazed. His thoughts moved like fog over frozen glass.

His throat felt dry, but he managed a whisper.

"I'm… sorry, Mother. Father…"

He didn't even fully know what he was apologizing for.

Just that… their pain was real.

---

Minerva pulled back.

Her cheeks were streaked with tears, but her eyes now gleamed with the fire of a queen and the fury of a mother.

She jabbed a finger at his chest.

"That's it. No more horsing around, no more world-jumping, soul-splitting, half-dead escapades. You're staying in Arian, and you're learning your duties, got it?"

She wiped her face with the back of her hand, composing herself with a queen's precision.

"If you're going to inherit this kingdom, you better start acting like it. Starting today."

Behind her, Seraphyx quietly snorted a laugh.

Kaelya sighed.

Morven whispered something to Ignarion, who nodded.

And Orion, barely holding onto consciousness, gave a tired, lopsided smile.

Home.

He was home.

Orion stood slowly, aided by his mother and father on either side.

His steps were unsure, but the moment his soles touched the sacred grass of Arian's womb, a tremble passed through him.

His breath hitched.

His fingers curled tightly.

His voice cracked.

"She's gone."

Minerva blinked.

Orion pulled away, panic sharpening his tone.

"Frieda isn't within me anymore—" his eyes widened, "I can't feel her. She's gone. I need to find her—"

But a towering figure blocked his path.

Ignarion.

Crown of the Silent Reign.

Emblem of VlastMoroz.

His molten eyes met Orion's with quiet sympathy.

"It is best if you stay in Arian for now."

His voice was gentle, but immovable.

A hearth that refused to let its flame waver.

Minerva and Orion the First wrapped their arms around their son once more, grounding him in warmth he didn't realize he needed.

"Yes... listen to Crown Ignarion, son." Orion the First whispered, voice low but firm.

---

Morven stepped forward, his silver robes billowing like mist as he gently touched Orion's shoulder.

"With Nyxhara's awakening, our realm flows like a river between worlds. The Emblems are no longer bound by old borders. We will search... for Frieda, and for the soul of your child."

His tone was soft. Assuring. Unbreakable.

---

Seraphyx, luminous and composed, finally spoke.

"If we—" he gestured to the gathered Emblems, "—cannot find them, then you will not be able to either, not in your current state. Let us help. Let us help the future King of Arian."

---

Orion stood silent.

Held in a sea of promises, in a family of gods and warriors, yet feeling like a boy who'd lost something more vital than breath.

His lips trembled.

And finally… he nodded.

A single, solemn nod.

A Prince choosing faith.

---

Roselight Hollow – Granny Suri's House

The air smelled like herbs and nostalgia. The tiny fireplace crackled lazily in the corner.

Elynas, draped in a cozy blanket, leaned back with a very dramatic "Haaaaahhh", clutching her belly.

Her empty bowl sat steaming in front of her.

"Thanks for the food, Granny Suri…" she mumbled shyly, cheeks slightly puffed.

Then, a soft burp.

She covered her mouth immediately.

Wide-eyed.

Embarrassed toddler mode: activated.

Suri chuckled as she patted the girl's head with one hand, the other still wrapped around a mug of what might've been "special" tea.

"Oh hush now. That just means you liked it." She smiled warmly, eyes twinkling.

"Now that you're fed and full, dear child... tell me about yourself. Do you remember anything?"

Elynas blinked.

The fire crackled.

The stew settled.

The weight of the world... waited.