The All-Creator does not look at the bowing figures before Them. They do not speak, do not breathe— upon a throne of jewels and precious stones made by Morax’s own hands They sit, all cold silence and colder eyes.
Venti thinks that if he had a heart the same way humans do, it would’ve been torn to shreds. He can still remember the anger in those eyes of Theirs, the very skies bleeding and the air howling, shrieking in response to its Creator’s fury. He can still remember you, weeping for the life that was to be unjustly taken from you.
But you are not here, not right now and certainly not after the spectacle they’d made of your to-be death. You are somewhere safe and far, far away from them and anybody who had dared raise a single finger against you.
Venti is the one to eventually break the silence when it becomes apparent that not even the Tsaritsa, head bowed and face covered with her veil, is willing to speak. He barely exhales, however, before Darling’s voice hisses in his very soul.
Venti bows his head and clasps his hands in prayer. It is a position that comes to him as easy as using Anemo—
Yet for the first time in his long life, it brings him no comfort.
“Who are you praying to?” Darling laughs, the sound tilting and tinkling. It is a contrast to the sharp, cold glower of Their eyes— like a star burning. Like the moon, its glow an unavoidable truth and witness. “Who are you praying to, hm? It certainly can’t be me, not after all that you’ve done.”
Venti’s hands are trembling. Venti’s hands are trembling and he cannot raise his head to meet Their eyes when he knows there will be no forgiveness. He cannot raise his eyes to meet yours, not when he can remember the fear and the tears in them.
“Unless you have something important to say, Venti, then I suggest you leave.” Darling’s eyes narrow, though Venti can’t see it. It’s easy for him to guess, however; he’s been with Them, served Them long enough to at least know this much of Them. “You have intruded enough for one day, I think.”
Venti licks his dry and chapped lips, voice barely above a whisper. “I wish to apologize, Your Majesty. To you and… and them.”
You’re by Darling’s side now, your steps hesitant and light and a stark contrast to how Darling walks; They move as though They’re the very earth, each step aware and familiar with every rock and root and sand and grass sprout. Yet despite being so close, you still hide behind Them, the fear almost souring the taste of the apples he had earlier.
“I don’t accept your apology, whatever it may be and however you word it, little Archon.”
Venti closes his eyes, taking a shaky breath. Is he surprised? Not really. But not being surprised does not make it hurt any less, does not lesson the guilt that lays in his heart like a pouch of coal.
But still, this is only Darling’s decision— not yours, who is still staying silent and watching, eyes lacking the same intensity of Darling yet nonetheless matching Theirs.
Vent, of course, is not and will not be the one to tell you to say your piece.
“And you, (Name)? Do you forgive him?” But Darling does not have such reservations, the most curious lilt in Their tone as They address you.
Venti cannot see it nor can he feel it, but you are looking at Darling. They smile in return, chuckling. “Why yes, you. He— they had hurt you the most, no? Spilled your blood and delighted in your pain, brought you forth to execution like a lamb to slaughter… take your time answering, (Name).”
You remain staring at Them for a while; They stare back, more expressionless than stone itself. This is your choice to make, you can almost hear Them say in your mind. You need not my opinion to decide.
“Can we speak privately for a bit?”
Darling finally blinks, a grin stretching a little too wide across Their face. They crane Their neck down to look at Venti, humming.
“Leave us, won’t you, Barbatos? I’ll come and speak to you myself if I need to.”
When he leaves and you are left alone with Them, They return to staring at you with an unusual intensity, eyes filled with dim, golden stars and swirling constellations. “Yes, (Name)? We are all alone now, no prying eyes or ears.”
Your stomach churns, mouth dry. You already have something in mind but—
“I don’t forgive him. Or them. I won’t forgive them until—”
“Until you get your revenge,” They are grinning, a sharp and red and bloody thing and you can’t breathe—
The moment passes, and the pressure on your chests lifts, the hands on your throat gone as quickly as they came. Did you dream this sudden moment, your mind wonders. It is unwilling to leave the safety of that suggestion.
Darling is no longer grinning.
They have gone back to watching you, blinking slow and heavy ever so often. Like a cat, basking in the sun. They are waiting. Patient and unwavering, They are waiting for you to speak.
Darling tilts Their head to the side. “And how do you wish to go about this, I wonder?”
You shift on your feet, crossing your arms. “Is there anything I’m not allowed to do as punishment? … Will you help me?”
They blink, as though surprised. “Why, of course! Depends on what your decision will be, though. As for what you’re not allowed to do, I only ask for two things,” They eye you, awaiting your answer.
That doesn’t seem unreasonable. Then again, They could make those two thing unreasonable. But you also don’t have any other choice, do you?
“Fine, what are those two things?”
“You will not kill anybody.” The response is immediate, no hesitation and so firmly said you would have never had any space to object— not like you will, anyways. “If you plan on hurting anybody, you will only give them the same pain they had given you, no more than that.”
Oh, that was surprisingly easy.
What you had planned for them wouldn’t even hurt them physically. Emotionally, they’d still be less hurt than you.
Darling’s serious faćade is gone, and now They are grinning again, eyes gleaming. “Oh? Curious… but more importantly, what do you plan to do, (Name).”
You give Them a matching grin.
The cries of the nuns awake everyone in Mondstadt.
Half-haphazardly dressed and still not totally awake as it is quite early in the morning, people start rushing out of their homes and hotels to see what could possibly be going on.
Venti is among the first to wake up and rush to the cathedral. He finds inconsolable nuns on benches along the way, leaning and slumped against the stairs. Some of them are kneeling in front of his statue, frantically begging and praying.
He’s confused, confused and worried and stressed as he enters the cathedral doors—
Venti has come to this particular statue of his All-Creator many, many times. He’s laid at Their feet, he’s even prayed and played the lyre and wished and slept and laughed near it, gleaming eyes staring at Their lovely face—
Their lovely face, now nothing more than unrecognisable stone.
There is a letter, stuck to the mess of broken stone. There is a letter and it is in Their handwriting, and Venti has never known They could be so cruel.
Never again shall I be defaced. Never again shall you lay your eyes on me.
Taglist: @aballion, @ruruize, @lovesickeros, @aysaanna, @justarandomweeblol, @suck-me-sideways, @lifeofabra, @hamdehlesmis, @starhvney, @scooterscoob, @sweetsandwichgardener, @fangirlinindia, @qwerty-was-taken, @verani-writes, @fuckingpasssword, @suzuyamitsuki, @lunalixya, @toiveesi, @alobaidlia, @uchihaeirin, @yue-caelum, @transpostsblog, @myesno, @bakikikiki, @ayolk, @depressed-bitchy-demon, @ayra2452008, @brinex, @roselleviennesstuff, @randomweirdo13, @zuyoo, @fallenstarwishes, @chihawari, @kazeniya, @negativezeros, @emperatris-rinaka, @artificial-heartache, @why-am-i-here-someone-save-me, @aradia-melinoe, @genshin-impacts-me
germansingergirl
janainaart
gummygunk
ellievsbear
vaporwave
origamiaround
discoholicmusic
