In the endless dark void, the newly born elemental spirit had not yet awakened. It possessed no consciousness of its own.
As time passed—perhaps months, perhaps years, perhaps centuries—this wisp of elemental spirit spontaneously split into a pair of intertwined twins.
They were brothers, born from the same root, sharing the same origin.
They gained simple, incomplete consciousness.
After an unknown span of time, the twin elemental spirits separated, forming two dragon-shaped elemental beings that clung to each other, as close as brothers.
They drifted together through the dark void.
These dragon-spirit "brothers" longed to break through the darkness and reach the real world.
Finally, they succeeded.
Two small, still-fragile dragon-shaped elemental beings broke through the darkness and descended upon a white, frozen wasteland.
With only simple, incomplete consciousness, they drifted freely through this world by instinct.
For dragon-spirits who had dwelt so long in darkness, simply seeing the world of light was a blessing.
But happy times were always short-lived.
One day, this pair of dragon-shaped elemental spirits, whose consciousness had not yet fully awakened, encountered someone they should not have met.
The alchemist known as the sinner.
Rhinedottir.
At that moment, Rhinedottir stood atop a snowy peak, gazing with hatred and envy at the green land of Mondstadt in the distance.
Her resentment grew. "Why is that land warm and green, while mine is cold and covered in ice? Why must I remain in this frozen mountain while they enjoy warmth?"
She looked at the thriving land of Mondstadt, consumed by jealousy, scheming how to seize that green land for herself.
As she plotted, her eyes fell upon two small, weak beings in a corner of the glacier.
They were dragon-shaped. Newly born. Elemental spirits whose consciousness had not yet fully awakened.
A cruel smile curled Rhinedottir's lips.
"I have a wonderful idea."
"Little ones, do me a favor."
"Lend me your bodies and power; help me claim that green land."
With that, she reached out her clawed hand toward the two dragon-shaped elemental spirits.
Sensing danger, they tried to flee by instinct.
But it was too late.
Using the power of alchemy, Rhinedottir seized one small, dragon-shaped elemental spirit.
She murmured, "Let the other one go. One is enough."
"As expected, before their consciousness fully awakens, they make the finest alchemical materials."
With that, she took the dragon-spirit in her hand and returned to the depths of the snowy mountain to begin her work.
First, she used alchemy to accelerate its growth, hoping to cultivate a powerful weapon of destruction.
But she failed.
Then, she tried to drain its power to strengthen herself.
Again, she failed.
Finally, standing before an ancient weapon, a thought struck her.
Her own body could not contain the dragon-spirit's power, but this ancient weapon could.
What would happen if she fused the dragon-spirit with the ancient weapon?
A cruel smile returned to her lips.
"Let's try."
"Even if the dragon-spirit perishes, it matters nothing to me."
She began her experiments.
The first time, midway through the fusion, the dragon-spirit nearly collapsed. She was forced to stop.
The second time, the ancient weapon rejected the fusion, nearly killing the dragon-spirit. She was forced to stop.
The third time, she adjusted the dragon-spirit with alchemy, corrupting it with the power of darkness, and finally eliminated the rejection.
The fusion succeeded.
A new being was born.
And Rhinedottir gave it a name: Durin.
Because it was born from a weapon of war, Durin's body was immense from the start, as massive and unyielding as a boulder.
Rhinedottir was pleased.
Using alchemy, she gave Durin a pair of enormous wings, grafting them onto its weapon-like body.
It was monstrous. Terrifying.
Newly born, Durin regarded its creator, Rhinedottir, as its mother.
And this white, snowy world filled Durin with curiosity, with a desire to explore.
"Mother, mother, what is this?"
"It's soft underfoot, cold and cool."
Rhinedottir said, "That is snow. If you are thirsty, you can melt it in your mouth and drink it."
She looked at Durin's massive, powerful form and knew she had succeeded.
Soon, she would use this black dragon to conquer Mondstadt's green land, to become its new master.
Hearing her answer, Durin lowered its black, fearsome head, from which poisonous blood dripped, and bit into the snow.
Cool. Not food, but it melted into liquid that flowed down its throat.
How strange!
Then Durin found a dark, hard stone. "Mother, mother, what is this? Can I eat it?"
Thinking the dark stone might be tasty, it lowered its head and bit down, chewing the rock.
The sharp fragments scraped its mouth, nearly cutting its tongue.
"Mother, Mother, this is horrible. I can't swallow it."
It spat out the crushed rock.
Rhinedottir said, "That is stone. It is not food."
In the blink of an eye, Durin had moved to another spot, bringing its poisonous claw near a warm flame.
So warm!
"Mother, mother, what is this? Can I eat it?"
It reached its claw toward the blazing fire.