A field of horsetails and swaying grasses, of flowers, a gentle breeze carressing their delicate pedals.
The moon rippled, floating atop the crystal lake of Dihua Marsh, clear and bright. Stars sprinkled across the surface. They shifted with the silent wind as it whispered across the dark, silent waters.
He left a trail of blood as he dragged his broken body away from the battlefield ashore of the tranquil lakes. Tonight’s mission had been a taxing one, and he took a few too many hits.
His mind had strayed. He couldn’t ride the wind with the same effortless agility that he normally could. Within him was a subtle consiousness that tonight was different. Tonight was dangerous.
Xiao’s boots sank in the mud with each labored step towards home.
With blurred eyes he raised his head and gazed upon the serenity of Liyue at night. A full moon caressed his bloodied face, throwing his golden eyes to flames.
The people of Liyue slept peacefully that night.
An eon of slaughter. The price to pay.
Without warning, a flash of red ran across his vision. His knees gave out and he fell forwards on the mud.
He tasted copper at the back of his throat.
Pain – unlike anything he’s ever known – coursed in his veins. His blood turned to lava as he let out a scream that pierced the night.
Torn apart from the limbs, the weight of a million worlds pressing on his chest and choking his breath.
Before his eyes flashed every life he’s ever taken, every soul he’s sent to the underworld. The darkness opened beneath him and swallowed him whole.
An urge to kill, to destroy, to tear apart as much as he could before he took his last breath rose to his mouth like bile. He clawed at his face, panic thrumming in his chest, but the mask of the yaksha had merged with his skin.
He crawled to the edge of the water. A monster, glowing eyes, grotesque fangs, stared back at him from the dark heart of the lake.
Everything he’s fought for, everything he believed in, everything he held dear, they all vanished as crimson pulsed at the edges of his vision.
Every heartbeat was pain, yet it was also release. The demon dwelling within him opened its eyes, pushing against an eon of repression.
He ripped at his chest, one hand reaching weakly towards his bloodstained spear.
If he were to die, he had to make sure that he was the only one who did.
Then, as suddenly as it came, the agony subsided to an angry hum.
He gasped for breath. His spear fell from his hand.
Skimming the surface of the water was–
Was it fit to be called a melody? No, it transcended music. It felt like it was speaking directly to him despite not uttering a single word.
He heard a thousand things within a single tune. The laughter of a child, the wisdom of an elder. The bustling city, the noble peaks of Liyue, as well as an unfamiliar texture that he could only describe as freedom, as pure vitality.
As he listened, the pain within him unfurled wings and with a powerful gust of wind, left his body.
The melody was softly carried away by a gentle whisper of warm, spring breeze.
Somehow, Xiao found the strength to stumble his way back home to the Wangshu Inn.
Xiao never forgot the tune that pulled him back from the brink.
A while later, he came across a tale of a certain Venti the bard, hailing from the distant town of Mondstadt. He was, apparently, a lazy drunkard who wandered the lands aimlessly, selling his songs for apples and wine. He was said to have unparalleled musical talent, and an even more remarkable affinity for alcohol.
Xiao, who never cared for local gossip, found himself tuning in.
Meanwhile, a continent away, Venti happily ambled around the lush fields of Mondstadt, getting absurdly drunk off often stolen wine and playing his songs to anyone that would listen. However, he could never shut out that adeptus boy who’d looked into the lake with an unthinkably deep despair reflected in his eyes.
Before he turned in for bed, Venti hummed that melody to himself. He didn’t know why. It just made him feel warm, like someone was right there beside him, listening.
Xiao was never one to ask around for information, but he did listen particularly closely to anyone who mentioned the windborne bard in Mondstadt. He felt a connection that he couldn’t quite explain, but his time-worn intuition told him that that was someone special.
Memories of that night were fuzzy, but he held on tight to the feeling so even when he limped home, scraped and bruised, even when he felt like the last person on Teyvat, he could have something of his own to cherish.
Venti found himself gracing the library for the very first time in his long existence, just to read up on the yakshas of Liyue. He’d certainly gotten some funny glances, but he ignored them because he was buried in a book.
He had to laugh because the interpretations of the people in this age were so distorted that the glory and tragedy of the yakshas and the adepti were dumbed down to cartoon villains and heroes. He’d have to tease Morax about it. Or the adeptus boy. …Heck, why not both?
Worlds apart, a breath away, distance meant nothing to the wind.
So time slipped by. There was talk in Liyue of an unknown traveller sweeping through Mondstadt, and something involving a dragon. Xiao thought of the bard. Was he well? Had he been caught up in the chaos? Surely nothing could have happened to him, right?
After the Mondstadt crisis, Venti kicked back and relaxed extra hard. He was impressed by Lumine’s dilligence and hard work, but he was the embodiment of freedom! And freedom meant another round of drinks!
Nevertheless, he felt he should probably pay more attention to what was going on in the world. He made sure to remember to seek out stories of her future endeavors.
That was how he found out that Lumine was brewing up another storm in Liyue. Liyue meant those dusty old adepti and the even more dusty old Morax. But… that also meant the somewhat less dusty and old Xiao. Venti would have skipped on her Liyue adventures under normal circumstances, but instead, he listened with great interest.
Xiao also met the Traveller, as one was inevitable to doing. She was quiet and reserved, her rather irritating floaty companion doing most of the talking, quite unfortunately. But she was one of those people whose words, as rare as they were, held power. Through her own retelling, he found out more about her adventures in Mondstadt.
And she talked about Venti.
Paimon chimed in once in a while, calling him something like “Tonedeaf Bard”. That was amusing, but also vaguely terrifying. Xiao hoped that Paimon would never hate him enough to give him his own exclusive ugly nickname. What would his be? “Tofu Man”? “Pogo stick”??
Anyhow, Lumine always laughed kindly and chided Paimon to be nice.
She talked about the carefree bard and his songs.
He tried his best to hide his interest, hiding behind a mask of apathy.
In truth, he caught every word and held them close to his heart. He wanted to know more, but he didn’t have the courage to ask.
A few nights later, before he retired, Xiao perched on the roof of Wangshu Inn, surveying the land he was bound to.
“Why do I care about what happens to someone who’s just a name and a handful of stories?” He asked the open air of Liyue.
He came up with nothing except an even stronger desire to know him.
Almost as if conjured by his own mind, the wind picked up and toyed with the stray locks of his hair. It was warm, despite the weather holding the bite of fall, and carried the scent of apple blossoms.
He snapped back to reality.
This is wrong. This is not what you were meant to focus on.
Look at you. Fantasizing like this.
You don’t have time to be losing yourself in fancy.
Look at these hands. Look at your face. You are a weapon.
Weapons are not entitled to dreams.
He stood up quickly and turned away from the wind. He was about to leap off the roof and return to his room when–
A faint hint of giggling. He stood rooted to the spot.
Hehe, I knew I could find you here.
Xiao touched a hand to his chest. He didn’t understand the electric shock that ran through his body at the sound of that voice.
She told me all about you. You know, Lumine? She paid me a visit yesterday and of course I wanted all the details! Honestly I can’t believe how I never tried sending a message like this before… Kind of dumb of me. Well you’re certainly the first to recieve it! Aren’t you honored?
He was rambling, it was obvious. But he sounded so… so…
Happy? Innocent? Untainted?
Suddenly he didn’t want to reply. He felt dirty in the face of such purity.
It was almost as if the wind picked up on his thoughts. The voice had an obvious pout in it:
C'mon. Cat got your tongue? It’s just me! You’ve met me before so why so shy?
“…” Xiao got a hold of himself at long last. He said with an extra serving of coldness, “Did you need something?”
Actually……. Yeah. I’m here to ask you for a favor.
A small piece of paper tumbled in the wind and landed in Xiao’s hand.
Please, give this to the old man Rex Lapis, would you be so kind? He’s kind of a drag so I’d rather not give this to him in person.
Something in him bristled slightly at the brazen disrespect, but he found it was quite difficult to hold on to it.
You’re the best! Oh, we really gotta meet up in person sometime! I can’t wait to finally meet you properly!!
The word “no” was almost on his lips until he made the mistake of picturing massive, round puppy eyes. He sighed, almost too resigned to be angry at himself.
“Fine. When I don’t have a mission.”
Only after the conversation ended did he realize that he had no idea how Venti knew so much about Rex Lapis.
Zhongli was facing out towards the vast landscape of Liyue with a steaming cup of tea when Xiao materialized behind him.
“Ah, adeptus Xiao.” Zhongli turned around. “You have something for me?”
“Yes.” Xiao bowed his head and handed him the note.
Zhongli read it over. His brow furrowed.
“If I may…” Xiao ventured. “What is on the note?”
Zhongli smiled kindly, but there was no mistaking the obvious disquiet in his eyes. “Don’t worry yourself over this. It’s but a trifling matter. More importantly…”
Xiao stiffened as Zhongli put on a scrutinizing look.
“Are you in frequent contact with a certain Venti from Mondstadt?”
Xiao breathed out quietly.
“He spoke to me once just to give me the note, sir.” Xiao omitted their plans to meet.
Zhongli frowned. Xiao had always had the vague sense that Zhongli could hear exactly what runs through his mind.
“Good, good. There’s no need to send a reply back to him. He’ll know that I read it.”
Zhongli muttered something under his breath, but Xiao caught it:
“And he’ll know that it’s too late.”
Xiao stood at the foot of Starsnatch Cliff. It was almost midnight, and the air was cool and clear. Stars were scattered across the deep night sky, and the moon lit up an ocean of cecilias so it was like walking in a pool of moonlight.
At the top of the cliff, a distant hint of plucked strings. A lone figure stood against the crescent.
For the first time in a long, long existence, Xiao knew with absolute certainty that magic was real.
The bard turned around. A burst of wind blew from behind him, setting Xiao’s turquoise locks to flight.
That smile. Those eyes. His braids. His lyre.
It overfilled Xiao’s senses.
The clean white flowers by his feet.
The bard’s face split into a grin.
It could have been days. Weeks. Months. Years.
All he knew was, Venti only had to breeze across his life and it was never the same again.
They met more and more frequently. Venti took him on a tour of Mondstadt and Xiao climbed the tallest peaks of Liyue with him. Venti played for him as he listened on moonlit nights, and they lay in the grass without talking for hours on end.
More than waiting for death.
Every day he looked forward to seeing that stupid grin on that stupid face, and every night he fought hordes of monsters with a new purpose. He looked in the mirror and saw his own confused joy and conflict.
Venti, at the end of the day, was a distraction. He was intoxicating, but he wasn’t part of what Xiao was meant to fulfil. His duty still lay with the protection of Liyue at all costs, but he found himself straying, bit by bit.
His fist clenched. What if he made a fatal oversight because of Venti? Thousands of innocent lives were on the line.
But there was a stronger part of him that just wanted to be happy.
Venti knew exactly what this was.
He’d told himself a million times not to get too attached. But in typical brainless bard fashion, he went ahead and did anyway.
He stared at the person in the mirror. A familiar face looked back.
This was the one who came first.
Venti blinked and for a split second, the face in the mirror morphed into someone else. Messy dark hair, tired eyes, perpetually clueless expression.
He blinked again and it was gone.
Venti slapped himself. Once. Twice.
Stop it, Tone-deaf bard! You’ve gotta be kidding me!
He knew perfectly well what was at stake. He knew that their innocuous bliss would last but a breath. But here he was screwing up anyway.
Amazing job, Barbatos. You’ve outdone yourself.
Lumine, hardened from experience and wielding the unimaginable power of a Descender, enough to challenge a god, arrived at the doorstep of Celestia.
The world held its breath.
Behind closed doors, she engaged in a battle of wills and wits with the sustainer of the Heavenly Principles. Nobody knew what they discussed, but the archons around the world armed for war.
The air was laced with palpable tension.
The earth shook from the core. A fissure cracked open, a dark slash marring the peaceful landscape.
All nations, prepare for battle.
The unspoken message echoed through the vast lands of Teyvat. The survival of this world hung in a delicate balance.
Lumine had yet to declare war.
Xiao fell sick. His temperature rose rapidly until he could barely see straight, much less stand and fight.
Baizhu and Qiqi were away, preparing at the front lines. Wangshu Inn was quiet.
This was the moment that the world needed him the most. And here he was, pathetically bedridden.
Why are you scared? Death had never concerned you.
His breaths were labored, his sweaty hair clinging to the sides of his face. He groaned as a wall of pain slammed into him.
A pair of braids, accompanied by laughter.
His spine arched as he fought for breath.
You were the one who dragged me back from the edge of the void.
"Knights of Favonious, formation!” Jean screamed as both sides stormed towards their deaths.
You were the one who made these past months the happiest I’ve ever been.
A pair of azure wings blocked out the sun.
I know you’ll come back for me.
“Mondstadt, attack!” Venti cried as he lead the charge, drawing back a crystal blue bow.
And I know the wind will tell you my story.
The blood from the fallen soaked the land.
So… I’ll leave you everything beautiful.
Venti’s eyes were fierce, cold as he pierced the heart of a faceless enemy.
Blood stained his round, childlike face.
The Raiden Shogun smiled, steely against an incoming charge of enemies.
She drew her sword, claps of thunder cracking across the eternal land of Inazuma as she led her people fearlessly towards a hoarde of abyssal monsters. With a single slash, a wall of enemies fell. Monster climbed each other’s corpses to advance.
As she slew each behemoth, her mind returned to the colossal sea serpent. She grinned confidently. Small fry.
Lesser Lord Kusanali floated gently above the ground, directing troops of soldiers towards each position on the battlefield. The fantastical beasts and plants of Sumeru came alive by her will to fight for their homeland. Mitachurls were taken down by charging boars, samachurls entangled by giant blooms.
Her heart bled every time one of her soldiers fell, yet she couldn’t afford to stop. As she fought as hard as her people, she barely noticed herself growing taller, her voice maturing. The long-dormant power locked within her unfurled and blossomed until a lush green glow outlined her silhouette and her eyes flashed emerald.
The wishes of every citizen of every continent combined to form a nigh-unstoppable force, drilling through the monsters like a single collective blade.
But the monsters kept coming.
Teyvat fought on and on. Casualties were rapidly climbing into the hundreds of thousands, but the stream of monsters barely slowed. The people were becoming exhausted, too wounded to continue.
Lumine was locked in duel with the Heavenly Principles herself.
It was time for the archons to come together.
They met at the center of the world, at the doors to the abyss. They barely had time to acknowledge each other when the land convulsed.
Every piece of long-lost Khaenri'ah technology came alive, operated by the lost souls of the Khaenri'ah people who had returned through the gap in the fabric of the universe.
Then, a Mondstadt citizen clutched his chest, falling to the ground for no apparent reason.
The universe is a constant give-and-take. The dead were returning to the realm of the living, so the living must depart to the land of the dead.
From the fissure it came.
A massive robotic hand shrouded in darkness slammed upon the trembling earth, a distorted, grotesque body heaving itself onto the land of Teyvat. The ground shook as it righted itself, towering above the battlefield.
From its head, swirling with smoke, seven faint glimmers flashed for half a second.
“The Gnoses!” Kusanali cried.
Six of the gods simultaneously gave the Tsaritsa a side-eye.
“My bad, my bad.” She held up her hands.
Kusanali knew that without the Gnoses, they couldn’t seal the rift. Without sealing the rift, more people were going to die. The Khaenri'an machinary from all corners of the world were agitated by its presence and slowly moving towards them, leaving destruction in its wake.
Here it was. The root of the crisis.
The Archons convened for but a fraction of a moment without speaking. Centuries of rifts, of personal grudges, of distrust and mistakes, they unclasped and fell to the ground.
They nodded at the same time, then they were gone.
The ravaged, bloodstained grasses of the battlefield grew into entangling vines, growing thicker and thicker until it completely rooted the giant feet of the robot and crept into its joints. The Pyro Gnosis flashed within its visor and the plants withered.
"We have the advantage of numbers and speed.“ Kusanali murmured to herself, a gust of wind carrying her higher. Venti flashed her a smile.
A few still-standing trees in the distance caught her eye.
She gathered her strength and pulled.
A tangle of roots pierced through the soil, reaching higher and higher until it formed a massive arch. Raiden and Focalors leapt to the base of the bridge, side by side, and raced against the sun.
A massive hand swept towards them, almost knocking them off. The roots shattered.
They narrowly dodged it, leaping atop broken pieces of the shattered bridge.
Pillars of rock and stone rumbled from the depths of the earth to support their advance. They hurdled from pillar to pillar, vaulting into the air.
Focalors summoned a blade of water and Raiden drew her sword. They struck at the same time.
A powerful current of electricity coursed through the robot, amplified by the water, and for a moment it staggered. The Tsaritsa tuned into every droplet of water within the robot and concentrated. Frost entangled its joints.
Venti took the window of opportunity to ride a powerful gust of wind high into the air.
Time stilled as he turned towards the eye of the automaton where the Gnoses glimmered.
A million missiles sailed towards him.
As he drew back his bow, as Xiao fought for his life at the Wangshu Inn, the exact same thought ran across their minds.
Venti struck the eye of the automaton and an arrow with the force of a hurricane exploded. The robot took a step back.
He could have diverted the bullets instead of striking.
The missiles buried themselves in Venti’s chest, his wings, his stomach.
He plunged toward the ground, a fallen falcon.
A bed of leaves broke his fall.
"Are you all right?!” Murata yelled.
Venti tried to laugh, but nothing came out.
“We’re barely making a dent!” Kusanali cried. “We need to get inside! Barbatos, are you still in fighting shape?”
“Of course, hehe.” He wasn’t.
“Barbatos, Morax, focus on destabilizing him. I’ll look for a weak point. Everyone else, distract the robot and prepare to incapacitate.”
Venti bit back a scream as he opened his battered wings. Zhongli summoned a plate of rock to lift him into the air.
“I don’t need your help, old man!” Venti protested weakly. Zhongli just laughed quietly and carried him along.
With a downward strike, Zhongli opened a rift in the ground. The robot, focused on fending off the rest of the archons, stumbled. It righted itself quickly.
A flash of turquoise blinded the battlefield.
A tornado ravaged the battlefield, almost blowing Zhongli and Venti away. At the eye of the whirlwind, the robot lifted itself into the air. With a single punch, the air itself shook. A powerful wave rippled through the battlefield, knocking the archons off their feet.
“Tsk.” This display of his own mastery of the wind was ugly to Venti. “Let’s show him the real deal.”
Gathering what was left of his strength, his teal braids danced in the gale as he summoned a bird made of the purest wind in Mondstadt. It morphed into an arrow, striking through the heart of the robot. In the split second where it passed through the automaton, Venti collapsed the air pressure, crushing the chambers of air within the robot.
“So tell me,” Zhongli said conversationally as he raised a shield of stone to block incoming lasers as the robot retaliated. “Have you been meeting with a young man named Xiao by any chance?”
Venti felt a wave of pure terror. Something in Zhongli’s eyes bode doom.
“Uh… no? Morax, we are in the middle of the greatest battle since the archon war.”
“I am quite aware. I asked simply out of curiosity.”
“Morax!” Kusanali called across the battlefield. “Shoulders, neck, knees, the abdomen joint! Its weak spots! Quickly!”
Zhongli summoned massive shards of earth imbued with the Geo symbol and sent them flying towards the towering monster. They struck, one by one.
Still reeling from Venti’s attack from the inside, it couldn’t shield itself from the stones. It let out a broken cry as it lost control of the wind.
It fell and Zhongli speared him with pillars of rock, locking it in place.
“Ha, not bad for a drunkard.”
“Pretty good yourself for a grandpa.”
They raced towards the base of the robot, meeting with the rest of the Archons.
Within moments, they were crowded into the control center, pushing and shoving for the seat at the center. While they argued with each other, Kusanali quietly took the seat for herself.
The battlefield fell deathly still as the robot powered down.
Every pair of eyes was trained towards the sky.
Then, a distant star twinkled in the sky. Every archon held their breath as it grew brighter and brighter, closer and closer, until it split into two shards of glowing crystals. They entwined each other as they touched down on Teyvat.
Venti teared up. He recalled first meeting Lumine.
He even helped her put up Missing Person Posters.
Look how far they’d both come.
Kusanali slowly raised the headset to her lips.
Every battered and wounded citizen of Teyvat looked up. Every child, heavy with young trauma, every scarred soldier whose eyes had lost their spark, they listened.
Thank you, everyone, for your sacrifices in battle. Your will, your efforts, your dreams and wishes, they were what secured our victory.
Sumeru, go home now and tend to your wounds. Tomorrow will be a new dawn.
Tears dripped from every Sumeru scholar, citizen and mercenary, as they tightly embraced each other and cried from the same pure joy.
Without speaking, Kusanali handed the headset to Raiden.
Well fought, Inazuma. For your triumphs, I am proud.
Incredibly fought, people of Natlan.
I’m honored beyond words to be your archon, my dear Fontaine.
Snezhnaya… admirable. You have earned your new tomorrow.
Zhongli silently handed the headset to Venti.
Venti handed it back to him.
People of Liyue, I wish you the most prosperous and peaceful future.
Venti snatched the headset from Zhongli and laughed into the microphone to hide his deep sorrow.
Your local archon says hi, Mondstadt! You’ve really done yourselves proud. Enjoy your hard-earned future!
Cheers rose, one by one, as Teyvat held each other and cried together.
The archons shared a smile.
One by one they dispersed, off to tend to their people.
At last, Venti stood alone in the dark chamber of the robot.
He curled into a corner and screamed.
“He’s dead.” He said out loud.
“You know how he died?” He asked himself.
“He died alone.” He responded.
He clutched his broken wings and sat there for a long time.
When dawn broke, Venti left the robot.
Step by step, he limped towards Wangshu Inn.
Dragging his marred body, he crossed continents on foot.
As the stars peeked from a young night sky, he arrived at the Inn.
It was deserted. All of Liyue had gathered at the Harbor to convene and rebuild.
Venti climbed the stairs.
He could find the room with his eyes closed.
He opened the door and there he was.
The stench of death was covered by the clear, crystal scent of flowers.
A single cecilia dangled from his lifeless fingers as he slumbered.
A gentle breeze stirred the curtains.
Venti’s eyes went black. He found himself kneeling by his bed.
Xiao had decorated his room with cecilias. Their pedals swayed in the light wind.
He had once told Venti that he picked one after every mission ever since they met.
Venti walked over to a vase and gently plucked one from the bouquet.
Suddenly, images flashed before his eyes.
“Hey Xiao! Have you ever heard of axolotls?”
“Apparently they’re those little salamander things that are pink and have spiky little spikes on their heads. And they’re super cute! We should go catch one!”
Venti sucked in a breath. He touched another flower.
“Venti, are you drunk again?”
“Tsk. Hang on, let me get you a pot of tea. You really need to stop getting wasted.”
Without warning, tears streamed down Venti’s face.
He ran his hands across the wall of flowers. Memories of every sunny day, every peaceful night, every melody, every shared joke, laughing and leaping and so alive.
“So this is your favourite peak.”
“Qingyun Peak. I used to come here alone… to… reminisce.”
“What’s wrong? You’re quiet.”
“Thanks for letting me come here with you.”
“Well, with you here, it feels less heavy.”
“Hey… Can I ask something?”
“Sure thing. What is it?”
“Can you play that tune again?”
“A bit worse than usual. I’ll be fine. But please, I want to hear it.”
“You know, these mountains really are something else. The old Morax had outdone himself.”
“Are there mountains in Mondstadt?”
“Well, there’s one. A huuuuge one. It’s called Dragonspine. And it’s frozen and full of monsters.”
“Monsters!? Need to be purged!”
“Whoa whoa whoa, calm down. Nobody goes to that frozen wasteland anyway.”
"Uhh, well, ahem, um. I was just– I was just passing by a field of these and, and they rather, kind of, reminded me of you so uh, I picked them and–”
“Awwww! You’re the best, Xiao!”
“…You’re…Welcome? *phew*”
“Hahaha! You’re as red as these flowers!”
“And this is the… tavern… that you love so much?”
“Of course! Isn’t it so lively?”
“It’s loud and reeks of wine and unwashed bodies.”
“Haha, don’t be uptight. You’ll get used to it.”
“Would I want to get used to it?”
“C'mon, join in the drinking songs! It’s so much fun!”
“Hey, wanna know what I got you?”
“Didn’t I already say dandelion wine didn’t suit my taste?”
“It’s not wine, I swear! Look!”
“A– stuffed toy– of me… the audacity— the honor of the yakshas–”
“They’re quite popular in Mondstadt, so I hear. The children love cuddling them to sleep.”
“I think a visit to Mondstadt is in order.”
“Hey now, wait a minute!”
“You… wanna talk about it?”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. You just… seemed down today.”
“It’s fine. I, uh, um. I just. Tired. Whoa, hey!”
“Not with you squishing the breath out of me!”
Although neither of them had ever uttered the words out loud, it overflowed from every scene, every smile, every mundane little detail of their lives intertwined.
Venti knelt and, with both hands, cupped the final cecilia, the one that Xiao held in his cold hands.
“Look over there! Cecilias! Quick, let’s go pick some!”
“Slow down! Geez, the flowers aren’t going to grow legs and run away. Hey! Don’t put it in my hair!”
“Say, Xiao, have you ever thought about what you’re gonna do after you fulfil your contract?”
“After? There’s no after. My contract binds me until the day I die.”
“Do you really believe that you can’t win this war?”
“Look around you. Look at the flowers. The sun is shining. You are not allowed to say hopeless things when life is all around us.”
“Wouldn’t you say that you have already won?”
“What are you talking about?”
“You’ve won… a chance to live. To be at peace.”
“Haha, I don’t even know what I’m saying. Let’s just exist here and be you and me, okay?”
With trembling hands Venti tucked the flower behind Xiao’s ear. He looked just like he had back then where everything lived.
He forced his limbs to move. He rose and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
Why hadn’t he kissed him sooner?
“I love you.” He whispered. “I love you more than life.”
Why hadn’t he said it earlier?
Venti brushed Xiao’s hair away from his face. He slept, peaceful.
The moon is beautiful tonight.
Venti stayed by his side until the sun rose to caress a shattered soul.
Mondstadt, Celestia, Teyvat awaited his return. Yet part of him wanted to stay here forever.
Facing the world, laughing and playing songs and drinking himself into a rambling mess, when his dearest lay right here, snow pale and cold as ice, it was impossible.
Venti was about to force himself up when he noticed Xiao’s bloodstained spear laying quietly by his bed. A crazy thought entered his mind.
It would be so easy. So simple. They’d never have to be apart again.
Mondstadt was the city of freedom. Here he was making his choice. Mondstadt would survive.
Venti pressed the heels of his palms into his temples. His vision pulsed red with each painful heartbeat.
“It hurts.” His voice cracked.
“WHY DO I GET TO LIVE WHEN YOU’RE DEAD?!” Venti screamed.
The world needs you to live. I need you to live.
He curled up, shaking on the floor.
I won’t let anything hurt you. Least of all yourself.
I know. But you have to love yourself more.
Venti wiped away his tears and laughed. “Love this lazy, good-for-nothing drunkard?”
Venti scraped together what remained of his will.
“May we meet under the moon in a better place.” He uttered an old Mondstadt prayer.
Five months later, at Xiao’s grave.
The wind danced with the lush blades of grass under the shade of a sprawling tree. A small headstone marked the place where the last of the yakshas was laid to rest forever.
Venti set down a plate of Almond Tofu by the stone, then poured two glasses of dandelion wine. He drank one and left the other by the plate.
“It’s been a while, huh.” He said, looking out at the midafternoon day. “Sorry about the wine. I know you said you don’t like dandelion wine, but who pulls out tea at a grave?”
He sighed. “Mondstadt is getting back on its feet. It’s nice to see people taking walks in the sun, or business flourishing as it had been. It kind of hurts that orphanages are filled with children left behind, but that’s just reality.”
“Anyway, they’re building a new church. I tried to convince them – as Venti of course – that Barbatos would want them to focus on their own lives first, but they insisted. Feels wrong to see them devoted to me when I’ve done nothing but fail them, ha.”
“I wish you were here. I wish we could have had longer to be together. I look for you every day in crowds of people, in flowers, in the wind, but you’re gone.”
Venti wished that Xiao would give him a sign that he was listening. A gust of wind, a fallen leaf, a whisper, anything.
“Well, it’s time to go, I guess.”
“I hope you’re happy, wherever you are. That’s all I ask for.”
Venti brushed his lips on the headstone.
The weight of the world rested on his shoulders.
He turned his back and stepped into the sunlight.
Some say the melody that echoes across Dihua Marsh at midnight was an elegy for a broken soul. Some say it spoke of hope. Some say it held a story, enscripted in the silence between notes.
None had been able to catch a glimpse of the creator of such an enigmatic yet painfully raw tune. Was he a spirit? An adeptus? Or simply a musician who poured his pain into his songs?
The ones who had the good fortune to come across his tune while wandering at night describe it as a pool of cold, clear water. As transparent as a mirror, as deep as the void.
Give it a few centuries, and the weight of his pain would slowly fade away. The name Xiao wouldn’t make Venti want to scream to the heavens. He’ll be able to remember him for all the joy they’ve experienced together, all the sunlit days they spent ambling around open fields, and not for the image of him colorless, laying in a sea of cecilias.
Everything will be right again.
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