Orion the Fifth Descender

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Skirk came to a dead stop, almost, the air between them crackling with Anticipation. She swiveled onto Orion, her violet eyes hard and calculating, weighing him down where he sat. "We talk here, Orion," she said, voice smooth but lined with something else-delighted curiosity, maybe, or even anticipation. "I'll tell you how I found you, but first, I want you to stay put for a second." 

Orion raised an eyebrow, feeling the almost instant change in her mood. The next moment Skirk was a blur. In one swift movement she reached out and grabbed the front of his shirt, tearing it cleanly off. The material tore open beneath her fingers with less than human ease. For a moment Orion did nothing but stand there, a little flustered as the cool air hit his now bare chest. 

"What are you.." he exclaimed, stepping back a little, his face hot with "Do you really want to do this here?" he managed to stammer as his mind reeled to understand her reasons for such a bold action. 

Skirk lifted an eyebrow, undeterred by his embarrassment, at the sight of his reaction. "What?" she asked, genuinely puzzled. Then, without waiting for him to elaborate, she pointed at his bare chest, where those strange, dark red cube-like marks etched across his skin. 

"These marks," she said, her voice softening as her fingers traced the outline of the patterns across his skin. "You're cursed." 

Orion's gaze followed her hand as, entranced, he watched her closely feel the warm touch sending a deep flush up his neck; he was all too aware of just how close she was-too close. His heart began to race, this time not from fear or battle instinct, but from unexpected intimacy. 

"Marked by a higher being," Skirk said, either completely ignorant of or simply ignoring his visible discomfort. Her fingers danced delicately, all but reverently over the geometric shapes inlaid into his skin. "This is how I found you. This curse is designed to weaken you every time you use powers from beyond this world." 

Orions' gaze remained upon her face, in a bit to absorb her words. The curse had always been a mystery to him since he first used his light abilities during his fight with the celestial emissary and afterward. He had known it was there, always pressing down upon him like an unending weight, but he had never understood the full reach of its appearance. 

Skirk's hands wandered over the markings as she examined them; her face was serious. The closeness between them served to make Orion's blush deepen, though he fought to keep his composure. Her touch was clinical, almost curious, and it still sent his pulse racing. 

"Yeah," she whispered, her breath soft against his skin, "this is Celesia's mark... Master will be. delighted." 

Orion's shifted a little under her touch, trying to focus on her words and not how near she was. "I had already assumed as much," he muttered, his brain struggling to keep up with her words. 

Just as her face was closing in much closer to his, Skirk's violet eyes flashed down to his golden ones and a knowing glint flashed in them. She leaned to one side, her voice dropping to a whisper, "Wait… you don't know, do you?" 

Orion's eyes widened in his surprise as she changed tones. Her breath was warm, dancing on his skin, the fierce intent in her eyes making his heart thump loudly within his chest. "W-what do you mean?" he stuttered. 

"You don't know what you are, do you?" she said softly; almost to piece it together for herself. "The power you use. your actual status in this world." Her words held weight, an eerie truth that seemed to hang in the air between them. 

His mind was racing as the reality of the moment crashed over him like a tidal wave. 'Her tone. she knows who I am? That's what I want to know most!' His thoughts swirled while his heart thumped hard within his chest. He clenched his fists, and in a near-desperate voice, he asked, "You know about me?" 

Skirk drew back, her eyes clouding with something almost like pity. "I only know what my master has told me," she said. "To begin with, Orion, you are a Descender." 

The earth seemed to shift beneath Orion's feet. 'A Descender?' His mind careened in a wild attempt to wrap itself around what she'd just said. Since he'd wakened, Orion had been searching for answers-who he was, what his weird powers meant, what this supposed curse was that had attached itself to him. But this. this was something beyond anything he'd ever imagined. 

Before he could respond, a low gravel voice boomed across the room, its authoritative weight threatening to undermine the very foundations of the walls. "The fifth Descender, to be precise." 

Orion whirled around, his eyes expanding with alarm as a figure materialized from the shadows, stepping out into the dim light of the room. The man that now stood before him was unlike anyone he had ever met. His very appearance radiated an overwhelming aura of power-primordial, boundless power that seemed to press upon everything in its vicinity. 

Tall, imposing, with a cascade of long white hair down his back like a river of silver, his robes were dark and inlaid with intricate patterns of gold and crimson. His eyes took the shape of stars shining with an almost otherworldly light-a reflection of knowledge from ages past. Marked by age, his face was regal and unyielding, exuding an air of quiet yet terrifying authority. It wasn't just his aspect that left Orion starstruck-it was the powerful force of being that was him, as though very air vibrated in its pretension of paying homage to him. 

Skirk dropped to one knee, bowing respectfully as she said, "Master Surtalogi." The voice that had been confident, teasingly bright a moment before, was now full of deference. "I didn't expect you to return so soon." 

Surtalogi's eyes flickered from Skirk to Orion, the weight in their depths almost palpable. Orion felt the weight of his presence right through to his bones, and he willed his feet to press into the earth to stay rooted there, his golden gaze meeting the man's unflinchingly. The tension in the air was palpable and suffocating, and yet a part of him—a deep, primeval part-knew this man held the answers he'd been searching for his entire life. 

With a deep breath, Orion stepped forward, his golden eyes fixed on the imposing figure of Surtalogi. The overwhelming presence filled with the weight of crushing air fell upon this young man with no weight. Whereas the power emanating from this man would have others fall on bended knees, Orion merely stood tall. It was his need to know overwhelming the weight of his fear. 

"What do you mean, a Descender?" Orion asked, and his voice came out steady, edged with tension. Words hovered in the air between them, like an air of importance. 

The eyes of Surtalogi shone bright as he regarded Orion in quietude, almost amused. Wordlessly, he turned and moved toward a nearby seat: a grand, throne-like chair that almost materialized out of the shadows, draped in rich fabrics of dark hue. On to this, he lowered himself with the weighted grace of authority-the air thickening with his presence. 

"Descenders," Surtalogi began, his voice low and deliberate. "Are outlanders--beings who come from beyond the world of Teyvat." He stopped, letting the weight of the things he was saying sink into Orion's mind. "They are not born of this world, they just pop up here, carrying powers and knowledge that do not originally belong in this realm. 

Orion's eyes widened as the pieces finally began to fall into place. He had always felt like an outsider, even before the curse, but he could never have fathomed that it was because he was from another world. these pieces of information ran through his mind like a storm. "Outlanders. you are telling me I am not from here?" 

Surtalogi nodded, his eyes unflinching off of Orion. "Precisely. You are one of them, Orion. A Descender." 

With Surtalogi's words, the air in the room grew thick as the weight in Orion's mind hung heavy. All those strange happenings in his life-the unexplained power, the curse that had been passed on to him-everything suddenly fell into place. Yet a new set of questions began to form, each more troubling than the last. 

"But why?" Orion pressed on, raising his voice. "Who marked me?" 

Surtalogi leaned back in his chair, his calm demeanor never wavering. "The one who marked you," he said, his voice carrying an ominous weight, "is someone known as the Heavenly Principles. They are the first Descender, the entity that governs this world, controlling the balance of power and the order of existence within Teyvat." 

A chill ran down Orion's spine. The Heavenly Principles the very force that ruled this world sees him as a threat? 

"Why would they mark me?" he whispered this time, almost as though he wasn't certain he wanted to know the answer. 

The face of Surtalogi darkened a little, his tone still even but with the menace of seriousness. "Because, Orion, you disturb the natural order of Teyvat. your very presence here challenges the dominion of the Heavenly Principles. You, being a Descender, possess power from beyond this world-a power that unchecked can shake the balance they work so hard to keep, and that is why you were marked." 

The thoughts swirled in Orion's brain, his pulse racing with the weight of the truth settling. "So. they marked me to weaken me?" 

"Yes," Surtalogi confirmed, her gaze steady. "They do not want to kill you, outright. If they did, you would already be dead. Instead, they've placed this curse upon you, a mark designed to suppress your strength and remind you of your place in their grand design. It is a warning, Orion, a leash." 

"But why not just destroy me?" he asked, the question slipping out before he was able to stop it. "Why go through all the trouble of marking me-of weakening me-if I'm such a threat?" 

Surtalogi's face hardened, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "Perhaps because you are not just any Descender, Orion. You carry a weight that even the Heavenly Principles dare not avoid." He moved in closer, his eyes ominous with intensity. "You are connected with something much bigger. Something they're afraid of. And while they might not quite be sure yet what it is, they can't afford to snuff you out without unraveling some fabric of what they do have control over." 

"You said I am the fifth Descender," Orion repeated, his voice slow and reflective as the burden of Surtalogi's words weighed in his mind. "There are others, then. Who are they?" 

The expression softened on Surtalogi's face, a bare trace of a smile tugging the corners of his lips. Again, that peculiar melange in his features-knowledge and amusement-almost as if he had expected the question eons before Orion actually put it. 

"Indeed," Surtalogi said after him, his voice level and even. "There are others." 

He did not say another word for quite a while, allowing the weight of the moment to settle before his voice came up again, no louder than a whisper, but carrying eons of knowledge in it. "As I have already told you, the first Descender is what we know as Heavenly Principles, the power ruling this world and commanding its laws. They are the highest power in Teyvat-the observing, operating, and enforcing balance upon it." 

Orion's eyes narrowed as he processed this. The first Descender, the actual force that branded him, were the Heavenly Principles themselves. It all made sense in a twisted, ominous sort of way. 

His voice was more serious now, as Surtalogi explained, "The fourth Descender sleeps in Cryo, in a cage of glacial ice and frozen temperatures. Their powers slumber idly beneath the layers of frost in the land of Winter, waiting for the day that may come when they would be set free." 

Orion's heart quickened at the suggestion. 'Sealed? Another Descender, alive but constrained, locked away in some icy cell?' The idea ran a shiver down his spine, though he didn't know whether it was fear or excitement.