In all his life Venti never thought he'd bemoan the fact that he had never partaken in any of the sports that his P.E class taught in school. Sure he joined the archery club, but as far as he remembered, the archery club never required intense running in the open field. They had a separate location for the activities that were hosted. Most of his time was spent dedicated to improving his skills with the flute and perfecting his craft with the violin. If he was feeling up to it, he'd pop by choir practice and play a few tunes. Adding to that, both locations were close by and Venti never saw the need to up his stamina.
Now? Oh, Venti absolutely loathes that fact.
On the run from a lumbering, hulking one-eyed cyclops, Venti focused on not tripping over protruding tree roots and snapping his neck, making him an easy meal to satisfy the cravings of a disgusting monster. Gosh, he sounded like he's about to cry.
He is, of course, no doubt about that.
But the logical part of himself that hasn't been overtaken by sheer panic forced him to blink away those tears lest they cloud his vision and force him into an early grave. Besides, it's not like crying would do him any good.
He is speaking from experience here, having fled from one danger only to run headfirst into a new one.
Venti's only chance at surviving this unfortunate run-in would be to take aim at this creature and hope it would stun it, even if only temporarily. His bow and quiver was still slung across his back, a comforting weight that he was very familiar with, although his arrows fell short in abundance.
"Damn." He cursed, leaping over a boulder and nearly falling face-first into the ground strewn with branches and leaves. The monster was carelessly uprooting trees that stood in its way and shoving aside boulders like it was nothing more than an eyesore. Venti trembled, scrambling to pick himself up from the ground and continue moving.
His school uniform is ruined, the beige slacks have muddy streaks splashed onto it and the ends were frayed. Must be because of the tumble he took down the hill due to a misstep. He had a deep incision on his right leg that he had nearly forgotten about if only he didn't fuck up his landing.
This situation could have been avoided if he had been the bigger person and just sucked it up. The fight he and Diluc had gotten themselves into was over a petty reason, fueled by Venti's growing jealousy and tendency to misunderstand intentions. Had he just let Diluc explain himself, maybe he wouldn't be having the hardest time of his life, multiple scenarios flashing through his head at how this was going to go down. Maybe he would still be with the rest of his friends; Jean, Kaeya and Diona, eating grilled tiger fish along the riverbank and singing songs to their hearts' content.
Right now, Venti doesn't even have the time to wonder if they're out there searching for him. He has no doubts that Jean, reliable as she is, would have any difficulties in finding him. A demon slayer with her reputation would surely find something like this ugly compacted mass of muscle to be way below what she normally fights. Kaeya, for all his lascivious ways, was very smart and quite knowledgeable in the field of exorcism.
The monster roared. The sound caused the ground beneath his soles to tremble, the trees vibrating visibly due to the shockwave that pulsed through the forest. It was getting angry, Venti thinks dumbly, peering over his shoulder to check up on its state. Now that he's gotten a quick peek, the thing has a mouth that he somehow missed. A rather huge mouth, with glistening canines that could saw his body in half if that ever chomps down on Venti.
If he thought he was fucked before, he was definitely sure of it now. With another thundering growl that sent a blast of hot air whipping across his face, the thing fell forward on its limbs and started racing towards Venti.
"What the fuck!" Venti growled, forcing his body to move faster to cover more ground. It was gaining upon him, and fast. Whatever distance there had been before, it was easily overcome with a few leaps in the air.
Making an impulsive decision based on his observations, Venti veered sharply to the left. A rush of wind past his ears and the heavy impact of the monster landing. Heart pounding in his chest, he made use of the dazed state the monster is in, hurrying away from the scene.
Why, oh, why must he be so rash and terribly sensitive? Every second he spent here in this dense forest with no sense of direction is another second close to his death. This place was swarming with monsters, and someone like him with the poorest sense of self preservation had gone stomping in due to a fit of rage. Fate truly is cruel, mocking him like this.
Would it be too late to start praying for himself? The chances he'd be getting out of this alive is slim. The hope that Diluc and the others arrive here in time is almost close to none. He doesn't even recognize the place, and the others would most likely visit the areas he's fond of first.
Dying here would be the most pathetic end to his existence, but if it does come to pass, he shouldn't just accept it with open arms. Venti would fight tooth and nail if he absolutely has to.
The creature— Venti winced when the imagery he conjured in his mind was as horrid as the real thing— big as it is, calling it a cyclops is very generous. It was more muscle than flesh, the color of its skin was akin to puke. It stood about as tall as the trees growing within the forest, and extremely bloated. It had the advantage of speed when it used its limbs, but it relied heavily on their eyesight. A fact that Venti took note of when it charged right at him, bulging yellowish eye fixated on his person.
If he timed it right, he might be able to incapacitate this monster. That is if he manages to land a hit on this thing when his hands are trembling so much they could barely clench on the strap of his quiver. Should he be successful, it could buy him some time to move farther up ahead, and hope that his trail would be fainter and this lumbering fool would give chase to something else.
However in his current situation, he'll have to be reliant on his skills from his archery practice and pray that it doesn't fail him now. A stationary target is vastly different from a live, breathing one after all, and he's restricted by the limited amount of arrows in his possession.
Taking his bow and testing its weight carefully in his hand, Venti sees a rock huge enough to crouch behind, an advantageous position to take aim. He quickly dove for it, shuffling until he was in a position that allowed him to make a quick break for it should this turn to shit.
Taking a deep breath, Venti reached behind him, carefully pulling out an arrow. He willed his hands not to tremble as he nocked the arrow, pulling the bowstring taut, gaze focused on the clearing before him. The creature is bound to pass here, where else would it go when a fresh, live human with an open wound is within reach.
Waiting there felt agonizing and it made him extremely antsy. The fear of the unknown ate away at his already frazzled nerves, yet he knows that if he moved from this spot, he would lose the only advantage of ever incapacitating this beast. The area behind him was a flat land, no longer riddled with extruding roots or rock formations. It would be suicide to try to outrun the thing.
The forest felt like it was placed on mute. The wind whistled past his ear, rustling the leaves overhead and scattering them along the breeze. No squirrels, rabbits or any tiny woodland creature in sight, probably in hiding. The birds that chirped noisily above the canopy had long left at the slightest commotion. Animals really are lucky to detect whether or not a threat stalks their home, fleeing quickly at the first sign of danger. The sense of abandonment was prevalent in the air which was shrugged off, not giving it time to settle into his being.
When I get back to them, Venti vowed, I am never leaving their side.
Determined to keep that self-made promise, he adjusted his posture to a more stable one, left eye scrunched shut. The ground vibrated beneath his feet, increasing in tremor and growing closer each time.
With a huge swipe at two trees whose boughs intertwined with one another, the monster sent them flying, roots and all. It had swollen up, glowing a dark, blotchy green. He could only assume it was due to anger. The view of its jaws opening and clamping shut rapidly forced Venti to tear his sights away from it. Mutated cyclops, Venti affirms in his mind, it's too horrendous and sharp-toothed to be a normal one.
Watching all this happen makes him question why he returns back to this era of bloodshed and war-hungry creatures. He's been living a fine, comfortable life back in the future, with his only worries ranging from whether or not he's passed a test or if he's won a competition. He shouldn't be here concocting plans of escape from a mythical creature. He doesn't even belong in the past.
Is it because of his friends here that he's not leaving? He does get attached so easily, treating them as if they've been his friends for far longer than they've actually known one another. Or maybe it's because of him?
No. Venti banishes the thought quickly from his head. It was pointless to have such intrusive thoughts that could cloud his rational thinking during dangerous situations. Focusing on the predicament at hand, he worked on steadying his breathing.
Jean mentioned something along the lines of demons being able to detect fear, enticed by the smell of fresh blood circulating in the human body. Establishing controlled breathing and a calm mind helps immensely when faced with demons or monsters that rely on their senses to hunt. Kaeya nodded to her words, adding his own input.
"Calm down. Observe. Aim." Kaeya wags a finger in front of his face. "Those three rules should work well enough for you. As an archer, you're mostly at a disadvantage compared to the rest of us." He had paused, placing a hand to his chin, looking deep in thought.
He's survived thus far, that should be praise-worthy in itself. He could have died so many times but managed to bullshit his way out of them with only meager bruises to claim as his proof of participation.
"But as a reincarnation of Barbatos, you should have no problem wielding Anemo."
Venti wanted to snort when Kaeya mentioned it. No, scratch that, he did. All Kaeya did was level him with an unamused stare that did nothing to deter him from giggling. He couldn't be blamed for his childish behaviour, compared to the rest of his friends, even Diona is older than he is. Also because the idea that he is descended from the Barbatos, slayer of the beast Durin and friends with the famed Four Winds of Mondstadt– it is almost inconceivable.
They had absolutely nothing in common. Aside from a talent in archery and similar appearances (based on Diluc's initial reaction when they locked eyes for the very first time. Agonized, regretful.) Venti is his own person, and he had none of Barbatos' redeeming qualities.
Harnessing Anemo does not come naturally to him unlike expected. It landed them in trouble numerous times, every attempt made him want to curl up in a hole and hide away. Using it now when everything lies on this one chance at hitting bullseye, can he really trust in the wind?
Venti doesn't think so.
"Come on.. just a little closer." He mutters. His tongue pokes out of his mouth and his hand flexing slightly while holding the bow. The monster swivels its head too fast, almost frantic, nose in the air and visibly sniffing for something. Venti knows it won't be long until he's discovered.
Just a little more and it would hone in on his current location. Then he would let his arrow fly and hit its mark. Just a little more and then he's booking it out of this forest full of danger. He'll come running back to his friends, fucked up leg or not. He'll crawl his way there if his leg decides to collapse under his weight.
Offering up a silent prayer to whichever god is listening, Venti let his arrow fly. He watched with bated breath, hoping– no, praying it hits.
The arrow whizzed through the air, swift and lethal, arrowhead glinting sharply from the sunlight that bounced off its surface.
