Motherly Affection.

a/n: yes I ADORE motherly characters and I absolutely love guita and dear! also I HEAVILY believe guita has a mountain of stuffed animals or plushies just like me.

word count: 1.1k

bro santa m.list | cleaners m.list | main m.list |

It was around 3 PM in the afternoon, you were minding your own business while reading a book in one of the lounges that reside in Cleaners HQ when Guita burst into the room with a loud hurrah, dragging Dear Santa behind her.

“Hey! Hey! Hey!” Guita exclaimed while shouting right next to your ear as you closed the book and placed it down on the side table sat right next to the plush leather lounge sofa you sat in. “What’s up, Guita? You usually aren’t this energetic in the afternoon.” She smiled bright before sitting next to you while Dear Santa simply stood in front of you with a serious scowl plastered on his face.

“What’s wrong, Dear?” you asked in a soft tone while taking his hand before pulling him to sit next to you and Guita on the sofa. Guita kicked her feet back and forth while you tried to comfort Dear Santa and figure out what was wrong. “He’s cranky because the chefs from the kitchen said that we couldn’t get any snacks so close to dinner time!”

Dear nodded his head while you tilted your head in confusion at her words “What happened to your scheduled afternoon snack that Bro has set aside for you guys?” Guita pondered for a moment before responding “The chefs said that they didn’t have time to prepare our snacks and so they ended up using the ingredients in the dishes for tonight’s dinner!”

“You mean the dinner that shouldn’t be happening for another 3 hours?” you said while holding Dear Santa in your arms. “Yeah!” Guita bobbed her head up and down, confirming your question.

You sighed softly before rising up from the sofa, Dear still in your arms as Guita followed behind you as you three made your way to the cafeteria of HQ.

The kitchen staff were happy to allow you to use some of their ingredients as long as you cleaned up which you agreed to. “Guita, you wanna help me?” The young girl nodded before running to the closet and grabbing two aprons to wear, one for you and one for herself.

You crouched down in front of Dear Santa as the young boy stared at you. “Dear, can you be good and sit while I work with Guita for your afternoon snack?” Dear nodded before turning to sit in one of the counter seats with some blank pieces of paper and colored pencils from the last time he and Guita were in the kitchen.

After tying your own apron you helped Guita tie hers with a small bow before turning to the ingredients you guys had available. “What do you and Dear Santa usually eat for your afternoon snack?” you asked her while Guita rolled up her sleeves “Bro usually arranges for us to get some type of snack like fruits or veggies that are full of stuff to keep us full until dinnertime.”

“Okay, that narrows it down to mainly health snacks, nothing too sweet but nothing too bland that won’t hold you over until dinner.” you inquired while looking at the ingredients again “How does a fruit tray sound?” you turned to Guita and asked her while Dear Santas continued to color.

“Fruit tray? What types of fruit?” she asked while messing with two wooden spoons as if they were drumsticks. You smiled at the sight before ruffling her short turquoise hair “The usual. Apples, grapes, oranges, anything that is relatively energizing but not too sweet.”

Guita smiled as you started grabbing fruit while she grabbed a large bowl to help rinse the fruit in. You grabbed a wooden cutting board before carefully cutting and peeling the fruit, apples into slices, watermelon into chunks, oranges were peeled and grapes were pried from the stem.

You helped Guita cut the apples, carefully showing and guiding her on how to cut properly to avoid the apple’s core, your hands laid over hers as she hummed a song she heard on the radio from that afternoon’s station.

The fruit was laid nicely on a plate as you walked back to the lounge with the kids as they played games and colored with you before you went back to reading your book as the teams began returning from their missions.

Enjin and Bro entered the lounge followed by Riyo and Rudo who both took some pieces of fruit from the plate as both Guita and Dear Santa ran over to Bro before tackling him in a hug. “Bro! Bro! Guess what?” Guita exclaimed while practically bouncing off the walls as Bro picked up Dear in his arms. “What is it, Guita?” he asked while giving her a small smile.

Guita started to ramble on about how you had helped her and Dear with their afternoon snacks and how you had played games with them, making Bro look up to see you braiding Riyo’s hair while she flipped through a magazine as Rudo watched you showing him how to do it properly.

It was dinnertime and the menu for the evening did not disappoint. You were eating with Enjin who rambled on about the rude guy they met while on a mission as Gris sipped his beer while rolling his eyes.

Bro Santa made his way over to you after dropping off Guita and Dear Santa with Riyo and the others. He sat down next to you and spoke softly “Thanks for taking care of the kids. They can be a lot sometimes for others to handle.” you turned to him before smiling “Hey, it was no problem at all. They were well behaved and easy to handle, don’t stress. Besides, you know I’d do anything for you or them.”

His eyes widened for a moment before chuckling as he interlaced your hand with his own under the table as Semiu, Enjin and Gris started a game of cards. The cafeteria was bustling with noise and laughter as friends chattered with one another.

After dinner, you carried Dear in your arms as Guita laid asleep, muttering about something you didn’t quite catch against Bro’s chest. Guita and Dear’s room was chaotic and messy yet still held the warmth and personality of both kids. They had separate beds, Guita’s on the left side and Dear’s on the right side of the room. 

You tucked Dear into bed before gently kissing his forehead as Bro laid Guita into bed amongst her multitude of stuffed animals and blankets.

Bro sat down on the couch in the corner of the room before you made your way to sit next to him. You slumped against his shoulder, exhausted from the day's events but happy to be there for the kids. Bro wrapped his arm around your shoulder before whispering for you to rest as the warm embrace made it easy for sleep to take you.

Previous part

The tingling in my back was sharp, as if thousands of tiny, invisible needles were pricking my skin. Upon opening my eyes, the candlelight blinded me for an instant. There was no trace of the cold plaza or the night sky; the high ceiling and white stone walls indicated that we were in one of the guest rooms of the Cathedral of Favonius.

—Mm... Venti! —I exclaimed, my heart skipping a beat as I remembered his pale face.

I tried to push myself up to get out of bed, but as soon as my feet touched the floor, a residual discharge coursed through my spine, making me lose my balance.

—Agh! —I groaned, falling to my knees as the floor seemed to spin.

—Oh! Honorary Knight! You've finally woken up —Barbara's voice sounded full of relief. I saw her approach quickly, setting aside some bandages soaked in Hydro essence. Gently but firmly, she took me by the shoulders to help me get up and sit back on the edge of the bed—. Please, don't overexert yourself; the Electro attack you received was very severe.

—Venti? How is he? And Paimon? —I asked rapidly, ignoring the pain. My hands trembled as I searched for any sign of them in the room.

Barbara nodded, visibly moved by the Honorary Knight's gratitude. She made sure the blankets were properly placed and that the room maintained a comfortable temperature before preparing to leave.

—I found them passed out outside the Cathedral and used my elemental powers to heal them —Barbara explained, looking at _______ with a mixture of admiration and relief—. The energy surrounding them was... strange, very cold. It took time to stabilize them.

—Sighs Thank you for helping us, Barbara —I said, sketching a soft smile, even though the exhaustion weighed on my eyelids as if they were made of lead.

—It's my duty —she replied, returning the smile with that sweetness that characterized her—. You just need to sleep, and by tomorrow you will be better. Please, rest. Mondstadt is safe thanks to you.

—Understood, thank you... —I whispered, finally closing my eyes.

—I'll leave you to rest a little more, Honorary Knight. Master Diluc, Acting Grand Master Jean, and the Cavalry Captain want to see you —Barbara said as she carefully opened the door.

—Thank you very much, Barbara —I replied, keeping my eyes closed a moment longer to savor the tranquility. I heard the soft sound of the door closing behind her.

However, the silence didn't last long. I felt the presence of several people entering the room. Opening my eyes, I was met with Jean's serene but firm gaze, Diluc's imperturbable expression, and the enigmatic smile of Kaeya, who remained leaning against the wall near the window.

—How are you feeling, Honorary Knight? —Jean asked, approaching the bed with a concern she couldn't hide in her voice.

—Hehe, a little sore, but Barbara says I'll be fine, so I'm not too alarmed —I replied, forcing a smile to try and ease the tension in the room.

—I hate to be the one to ask this, but who was it that attacked you? —Kaeya asked, his shrewd gaze analyzing each of my gestures, looking for details that might have escaped the guards.

—Oh?... I know it was some Fatui soldiers and two Electro mages —I replied, making an effort to organize my clouded memories—, but there was a woman with them. She had blonde hair and some sort of crown on her head... that's all I remember —I concluded, touching my forehead, which still throbbed with a dull ache.

—La Signora —Diluc declared with a voice that distilled icy hatred—. We should have known that scum wouldn't stay quiet.

—She attacked Venti —I continued, feeling a pang of guilt in my chest—. I barely managed to protect him until I saw a purple flash hit me, and then I lost consciousness. I don't know what happened after that, I'm sorry.

—Don't sell yourself short. With that information, we can get an idea of what happened —Jean said in a firm voice, trying to cheer me up—. Facing one of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers and coming out alive is a feat few can boast of.

—I see... —I sighed, gripping the sheets with a bit of frustration—. Do you know anything about Venti?

—Well... he woke up before you did —Jean replied, clasping her hands in front of her—. It seems Barbara's elemental power didn't entirely help with him. He stayed for a while until he saw us bring you inside the Cathedral... after that, he simply left.

—I see... —I let out a long sigh of relief mixed with melancholy—. Thank you very much for staying here until I woke up.

Diluc nodded slightly, while Kaeya pushed himself off the wall with his usual elegance.

—Don't thank us, Honorary Knight —Kaeya said—. After all, you are our hero.

—Haha, you give me too much credit. I'm sure you are more of a hero than I am for defending your nation no matter what —I said, laughing a little, feeling my cheeks heat up at so much recognition.

—You still shouldn't sell yourself short, dear hero. I am not worthy to be in your presence —Kaeya said with that honeyed, dramatic tone that so characterizes him. Before I could react, he knelt with impeccable elegance and took my hand to place a knightly kiss on the back of it.

I froze for a second, not knowing whether to laugh or swat him for being a clown. But I didn't need to, because the air in the room became noticeably heavier.

—Don't start with your nonsense, Kaeya —Diluc declared, whose patience seemed to have evaporated in a second upon seeing the scene. His glare at Kaeya was sharp enough to cut steel—. She needs rest, not your tasteless jokes.

—My, what a temper! —Kaeya exclaimed, rising while brushing invisible dust off his trousers and winking at me—. I’m just trying to make our star guest feel appreciated, Master Diluc.

Jean sighed deeply, rubbing the bridge of her nose as if she had a headache from the constant bickering between the two.

—Enough, both of you —Jean said with authority—. Diluc is right about one thing: we must let the Honorary Knight finish recovering. We have a lot of work to do to manage the chaos the Fatui left last night.

All three headed toward the door. Kaeya said goodbye with an elegant wave, and Diluc gave me one last firm nod before leaving. Jean was the last to retire, giving me a warm, protective look before closing the door.

Now the room was silent, except for Paimon's soft snoring in the chair next to me.

The silence of the Cathedral became a cozy refuge. I settled into the pillows, feeling exhaustion win the battle against my curiosity.

—Rest, Paimon —I whispered, my voice already heavy, letting my hand gently stroke the head of my little companion.

Paimon let out a lazy little noise in her sleep, getting more comfortable in her chair. With that image of peace, I closed my eyes and fell into a deep sleep. The sleep was restorative, free of electric shocks or Fatui shadows; just the soft scent of incense and the safety of the stone walls.

I sat there, letting my back rest against the trunk of the great oak. The wind brought me the echo of the Cathedral bells and, with it, a certainty that gave me back my breath: _______ was okay. The tingling of life returning to her body was a melody I could read in the air currents.

I let out a sigh of relief, one that came from the very depths of my being. I looked up, toward the branches that swayed as if greeting the ancient hero this tree represents. For a moment, the void in my chest—that space where my Gnosis once pulsed—hurt a little less. I felt the essence of Mondstadt, my home, wrapping around me, healing the wounds that woman of ice had left me. Elemental power has always flowed in me, with or without that chess piece, because I am the wind, and the wind cannot be chained for long.

—May the wind always guide you, _______ —I whispered to myself, while my fingers, almost by instinct, searched for the strings of the lyre.

The next day, _______ and Paimon left the cathedral, leaving behind the scent of incense and the sisters' worry. They walked under the warm Mondstadt sun toward where Jean had told them Venti would be: under the shade of that great tree in Windrise, the place where the wind always seems to whisper ancient stories.

Upon arriving, they saw the bard’s figure leaning against the trunk, looking as carefree as if what happened with La Signora had been just a bad dream.

—You really are here, Hack Bard —Paimon says, flying in circles in front of him with her hands on her hips.

—Hehe! Well, of course I’d be here. I’m offended you’d think I wouldn't keep my word —Venti says, smiling, while he lightly adjusts the strings of his lyre.

Venti looked up at _______, and for a brief instant, the spark of mischief in his eyes softened, showing sincere gratitude.

—I’m glad to see those sparks didn't take away your desire to walk —continued the bard—. Although I must say, you gave us quite a scare. How are you feeling? I hope Barbara’s care was enough for you to embark on the long journey that awaits you.

Paimon nodded energetically. —She is much better! But now we are confused. Venti, that woman... La Signora... she took something from you, right? Something that came out of your chest.

Venti stopped playing the lyre and looked toward the horizon, where the lands of Liyue could be glimpsed in the distance.

—That’s right. They took the Anemo Gnosis. But don't worry about this old bard; my connection to the wind doesn't depend on a simple object.

—As expected of the Anemo God —_______ says, laughing softly, caught up in the lightness that the bard always managed to convey, even in the darkest moments.

—Hehe! Always so kind, dear traveler who sees beyond the stars —Venti says while his fingers pluck crystalline melodies from his lyre—. It sounds perfect for a song worthy of you.

—Don't start, Hack Bard! —Paimon says, looking at Venti with her arms crossed, though without the genuine annoyance of other times.

The wind blew harder through the leaves of the great oak, and Venti’s face changed. The playful smile remained, but his eyes reflected a melancholy as old as the world itself.

—_______, I would like to tell you something —Venti says, smiling a little sadly.

—Mm?... I’m listening —_______ says, smiling while looking at Venti, perceiving that the tone of the conversation was about to change into something transcendental.

—When you resume your path, remember that the journey itself has a meaning, traveler —Venti says, touching his chest, right where his Gnosis once resided—. The birds, the songs, and the cities, the Tsaritsa, the Fatui, and the monsters... they are all part of your journey. Your destination is not everything. Before reaching it, use your eyes to contemplate the world around you.

_______ was silent for a moment, feeling those words resonate with her own search and the pain of having lost her brother.

—Venti... —_______ says, moved and smiling.

—Paimon can't believe you said something so wise, Hack Bard! —exclaims Paimon, looking at Venti with wide eyes, almost not knowing how to react to such depth.

Venti let out a vibrant laugh, shaking his head and returning to his relaxed posture.

—Fine! The Anemo Archon’s sermon ends here! Back to being Venti! —Venti says, smiling proudly, as if he had just taken a weight off his shoulders.

—I hope we meet again, Venti —_______ says, smiling softly, with a mixture of gratitude and nostalgia in her gaze—. I promise to send you letters so we don't lose touch.

—Hehe! I’ll be excited to read them —Venti says, smiling, while a playful gust of wind ruffles his braids and the traveler's hair—. May the Anemo Archon guide you and the wind protect you.

_______ and Paimon began to walk, moving slowly away from the great oak. Turning their heads one last time, they saw Venti sitting back on the roots, lyre in hand. The notes of a soft and light melody began to float in the air, wrapping around them like an invisible hug as they headed toward the border with Liyue.

Previous part

A few hours later, the sun began to filter softly through the large windows of the Dawn Winery, painting the carpets and the faces of the sleepers with a warm golden hue. The fire in the fireplace had been reduced to dying embers, but the atmosphere in the room still retained that unusual peace that only ______'s voice had managed to create.

The first to react was Jean. The Acting Grand Master opened her eyes slowly and, for a second, enjoyed a mental lightness she didn't remember feeling in years. However, upon processing that she was sitting on the floor, disheveled and surrounded by cushions, her knightly instinct kicked in. She stood up immediately, her cheeks flushing a deep red upon noticing that her shoulder had served as an improvised pillow.

Beside her, Diluc let out a low grunt and opened his eyes. For a brief instant, his gaze was vulnerable and disoriented, but as soon as he saw Jean and the traveler observing him, he recovered his mask of seriousness as if it were armor.

—I see... the resting tactic has concluded —Diluc said in a raspy voice, jumping to his feet and brushing off his clothes with almost mechanical efficiency. He avoided looking Jean in the eyes while adjusting his gloves—. It was a necessary waste of time, I suppose.

—Ehe! —Venti stretched like a cat, letting out a yawn that resonated throughout the room—. Don't be like that, Master Diluc. Look how good you look now that you don't resemble a zombie!

Paimon, for her part, was still floating at half-capacity, rubbing her eyes with her closed fists. —Paimon dreamed of sugar stars! And now Paimon is hungry!

In the midst of all that little morning chaos, ______ stood up with absolute serenity. Her eyes no longer showed the sadness of the night before; now they shone with the determination of someone who has a mission to fulfill. The group looked at her, silently acknowledging her not only as their ally but as the heart that kept them united.

—Prepare your things —Diluc ordered, although this time his tone wasn't authoritative, but rather that of a partner. —Breakfast is ready in the dining room. As soon as we finish, we will depart for Starsnatch Cliff.

Breakfast passed amid the aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the sound of silverware clinking against porcelain, but everyone’s mind was already at the cliff.

—I don't think it’s best at this hour... —______ intervened, setting her cup on the table with a thoughtful gesture—. It could attract the attention of the public and those with bad intentions. It will be best at night; that way we can maintain a normal appearance now and not raise suspicions.

Jean nodded immediately, setting aside her toast. The traveler's logic was impeccable: an Acting Grand Master, a bard, a wine magnate, and a famous hero walking together in broad daylight toward one of the highest points in Mondstadt was, basically, putting up a neon sign for the Fatui.

—You’re right... It will be best if we all meet here at night to go to Starsnatch Cliff and talk to Dvalin —Jean declared, regaining her command tone. —In the meantime, I will return to headquarters to ensure the city is calm and that no one suspects my prolonged absence.

—Ehe, you’re right —Venti added with a playful smile, swinging his legs on the chair—. The stars are better witnesses to dragon secrets than the morning sun. Besides, it gives me time to practice a couple of new chords.

—Breakfast tastes so good! —Paimon exclaimed, her cheeks puffed out with food, ignoring the conversation entirely while devouring a portion of eggs and ham—. Diluc, you should hire Paimon's chef! Ah, wait, Paimon doesn't have a chef...!

Diluc only watched her out of the corner of his eye with a mixture of resignation and a slight shadow of amusement. He stood up, looking out the window toward the vineyards that were beginning to receive the light of day.

—It’s decided then —Diluc concluded—. Spend the day resting or preparing. My employees won't ask any questions. At nightfall, we meet here to go with the bard so we can reach Stormterror.

The path back was a haven of peace, or at least that’s what it seemed. The sun filtered through the treetops, creating patterns of light and shadow on the damp earth.

—Wow, Paimon has never been this way before, it’s very quiet —Paimon said cheerfully, letting herself be carried by the current of air.

—Now that you mention it, you’re right, we’ve never passed through here —______ responded, enjoying that brief moment of calm after the intensity of the previous night.

We continued our way under the morning sun, but the tranquility didn't last long. Suddenly, we found ourselves surrounded by an exaggerated number of Hydro Slimes. It’s not that they were dangerous, but it was quite annoying to have them try to hit you every moment while you were walking. With a sigh of resignation, I began to launch them away using my Anemo ability, hoping they would take the hint and leave us in peace.

However, it seems they didn't like that at all. Instead of dispersing, all the small Slimes began to fuse together, growing and growing until they formed a giant Hydro Slime that blocked our path with a gelatinous and threatening gaze.

—I didn't know Slimes could do that —I said, finally summoning my sword with a metallic glint—. And I wanted this whole thing to be peaceful...

—They won't stop coming! —Paimon shrieked, hiding quickly behind me.

—Stay back —I warned her, putting myself on guard and accumulating elemental energy, ready to attack with everything or send them flying with a single blow.

Just as I was about to rush at the giant Slime, a purple flash crossed the air like a lightning bolt. A boy with gray hair and a wild appearance appeared out of nowhere, hitting the ground with such force and electricity that it scared the Slimes, making them recoil and scatter through the forest.

—Tha... Thank you! —Paimon exclaimed in relief, but her relief turned to panic as she saw shadows moving among the bushes—. Ah! Wolves! Run! —she screamed, hiding behind me again.

The boy straightened up, resting his enormous sword on his shoulder with natural calm.

—No worry. Wolves friends —he said in a raspy voice—. But, who you be?

—We are ordinary travelers... —Paimon responded, still peeking cautiously from behind my back.

The boy took a step forward and tilted his head, twitching his nose rapidly.

—Not look ordinary. Sniff Smell strange... —he muttered, fixing his intense eyes on me.

—Oh? What do we smell like? I’m curious —I told him, lowering my weapon and giving him one of my soft smiles, trying to convey that we weren't a threat.

The boy sniffed again, closing his eyes for a second to concentrate on the trail we left in the wind.

—Smell like joy, calm... Smell like Knights of Favonius. Be friends —he said, finally relaxing his defensive posture.

—Oh, thank you... My name is ______ and this is my little guide, Paimon —I responded, stepping a little closer—. What is your name, my child? —I asked, using that maternal tone that came out of me unconsciously.

The boy didn't stop looking at us, alternating his gaze between Paimon and me with honest curiosity.

—I am Razor —he answered briefly.

—Are you also a member of the Knights of Favonius? —Paimon asked, now calmer and floating at a safe distance.

—No, I am not —he replied dryly, without taking his eyes off the dense forest.

Suddenly, a series of deep, melancholic howls tore through the silence. Razor went rigid immediately, sharpening his hearing and paying almost mystical attention to every sound.

—Eh? —Paimon began to nervously look for the source of the noise, spinning around.

—What is wrong with the pack, Razor? —______ asked, observing the tension in the young man's shoulders.

—Pack is family —he replied with a simplicity that disarmed them.

—Your family? —Paimon insisted, scratching her head in total confusion—. But they are wolves and you... well, you don't have a tail.

—Yes, family. I grow with them. Live together, so they are family —Razor explained, looking at the travelers with a brutal honesty that left no room for doubt.

—Right now I have too many questions... —Paimon murmured, her eyes wide as saucers, trying to process how a human ended up being raised by a wolf pack in Mondstadt.

However, Razor’s face darkened. His expression, previously alert and fierce, transformed into one of pure, childish sadness. The narrator notices how the boy avoids ______’s gaze, feeling ashamed of what he considered a personal failure.

—They angry at me —Razor confessed in a low voice.

—Angry? —______ repeated, softening her expression.

—Came to help. I revealed our ambush. Boar ran away —he explained, letting out a sigh heavy with regret. By coming to the travelers' rescue and scaring off the Slimes with his electricity, he had also frightened the prey his family had been stalking for hours.

______ looked at the boy who, despite his strength and scars, now seemed as vulnerable as any of the children she used to tell stories to. The traveler, who that same morning had cried for her own children, felt an instant connection with Razor’s loneliness.

—Then let me make it up to you... I will hunt the boars, you wait for me here and tell your pack, I don't want to scare them —______ laughed softly. —Paimon, stay with Razor, okay? I don't want a boar to hit you.

—No worry. When Knights help, wolves die of hunger... —Razor said, a bit serious, reflecting his distrust of the city folks' methods.

—Don't worry, my child, I am not like other knights, trust me. Besides, stay with Paimon and take care of her, she is still very small, okay? —______ said, smiling with that warmth that always managed to calm those around her.

—Okay... Razor trust you —the boy responded, finally giving a vote of confidence.

______ went in search of the boars, calm and quick. She felt bad that Razor was so sad, so she put all her effort into the task. When she found a very large herd of boars, she didn't hesitate; she used her Anemo ability to trap them all at once. However, something told her the wolves would have a huge appetite, so she looked for more and even larger ones. She searched and searched, hunted and hunted every boar until she had a considerable amount of fresh meat.

Once the supplies were ready, our protagonist returned to Razor and Paimon, who seemed to be talking animatedly while they waited for her.

—Sorry for the delay, I hope this meat is enough —______ said, handing over three full bags of meat.

—Is enough. Pack not die of hunger —Razor spoke, relieved, feeling the weight of guilt disappear.

The boy sniffed the bags and then looked at the traveler with a gleam of pure respect in his eyes. She hadn't just kept her word; she had done it with the prowess of an alpha.

—You... be great hunter —Razor added, making a small gesture of gratitude. —Smell like home, but be strong like wolf. Pack now be at peace.

Paimon floated over, very proud of her companion. —We told you! With ______, there is nothing to worry about!

—I must go... —Razor said, alternating his gaze between Paimon and ______. —Here not be safe. Pay attention, watch your back.

Without adding anything else, the boy turned around and ran off with the heavy bags of meat on his back, moving between the trees with an agility that made him look like a grey shadow merging with the forest.

—What a strange person —Paimon commented, scratching her cheek while watching the place where Razor had disappeared—. But Razor is right, we should go. Lately, there are more monsters around here and we don't want to get ambushed again.

—I suppose so, let’s continue —______ responded, resuming her path with a firm step.

The road finally led them to the small and cozy town of Springvale, a place famous for its springs and expert hunters. Upon arriving, they noticed the atmosphere was more crowded than usual; several men were checking their traps and sharpening their arrows near the wooden houses.

—Honorary Knight, how good that you are here! —exclaimed one of the locals, raising a hand to call her attention.

It was Mr. Hopkins, a man known in the area for his unique "skills" in hunting and for always boasting about his abilities.

—Hmm?... Good afternoon to you too, Mr. Hopkins. How can I help you? —______ responded, stopping her pace and smiling warmly, as she always did with the inhabitants of Mondstadt.

—We need your help... You see, I know it will sound strange, but we need help inspecting the area, since there have been many creatures that complicate the hunt... Above all, those wolves, they are a nuisance —said the man, with an angry tone and a serious expression that indicated his patience had run out.

______ blinked a couple of times, feeling that something didn't add up. After having met Razor and having seen the vulnerability of his pack, hearing them called a "nuisance" caused a pang of discomfort.

—Hmm?... Why would the wolves be a nuisance if they are in their own area? —she asked, tilting her head in confusion—. They usually keep away from humans if they aren't bothered.

Mr. Hopkins snorted and crossed his arms, pointing his head toward the forests surrounding the town.

—That is the problem! They no longer stay in their area. They have become aggressive, they scare the prey, and some hunters say they have been attacked without provocation. We want the Knights of Favonius to do something about it... or we will have to take care of it ourselves.

Paimon looked at the traveler with concern. She knew what ______ had just experienced with Razor and how she herself had gone out of her way to feed those very wolves.

—But that is very strange! —Paimon intervened—. Razor said the pack was scared and that they were hungry, not that they wanted to fight with the people of Springvale.

—Razor? That wild boy who lives with the beasts? —Hopkins made a face of contempt—. You shouldn't trust what someone who prefers the company of fangs to people says. Please, Knight, talk to the Acting Grand Master. The road to Starsnatch Cliff is becoming impassable because of them.

______'s voice sounded with a firmness that made Mr. Hopkins step back, surprised by the traveler's change in tone. The warmth that always characterized her had transformed into a cold and cutting authority, the same one she used to protect her own.

—I ask you please not to be rude to that boy —she declared, locking her gaze on the man—. Second, I will personally take care of this. I will go look for Razor so he can give his version.

Hopkins tried to stutter a response, but the protagonist didn't give him a chance. She took a step forward, making her warning clear:

—If I find out that any of you attack any wolf, I will personally go to Jean so she can investigate you.

Without waiting for another word, ______ turned around and began to walk with a determined step back toward the depths of the forest. Paimon, who had been left speechless by her companion's determination, hurried to follow her, flapping her wings in a rush.

—Wait, ______! Don't go so fast! —Paimon exclaimed when they were already far enough from the town.

The protagonist didn't respond immediately. Her mind was fixed on the image of Razor sharing the meat with his pack and on the words of warning he had given her about the "bad wind." She knew that if the Springvale hunters attacked the wolves due to a misunderstanding or because of outside manipulation, the peace of Mondstadt would be irreparably broken.

—Something is not right, Paimon —she finally said, without stopping her walk—. Razor said the wolves were scared, not that they were going to attack humans. Someone is provoking this and I am not going to let them blame his pack.

______ and Paimon went deep into the undergrowth, following tracks and analyzing every corner of the forest. However, no matter how much they searched, they didn't find clear evidence of a Fatui conspiracy at that moment; they only discovered a pair of unusually active Hilichurl camps near the hunting zones.

—Hmm... there are too many traces of other creatures, none from a wolf —______ said, looking for more clues with a furrowed brow—. Let's keep investigating; something tells me that someone or something is causing an uproar for their own benefit, but these Hilichurls don't seem capable of planning something so big on their own.

—Paimon agrees! —nodded her little guide—. But if they are just Hilichurls, why are the hunters so sure it’s the wolves?

With the intention of avoiding a misunderstanding, the protagonist decided to return quickly to the outskirts of Springvale to show them that the monster camps were the real problem. However, upon arriving in the vicinity of the town, she realized it was too late.

Mr. Hopkins and a large group of hunters were already armed with crossbows, torches, and spears. Their faces were hardened by rage and fear.

—Mr. Hopkins, wait! —______ exclaimed, getting in their way—. I have checked the area. It is not the wolves; there are Hilichurl camps that are disturbing the prey and...

—Lie! —Hopkins snapped, ignoring her words with absolute stubbornness—. They just reported that another blood trail leads straight to Wolvendom! It is those wolves, yes or no. We are not going to wait for the Knights of Favonius to decide to act while our families go hungry.

—But you have no proof! —Paimon shouted desperately—. You are only going to cause a tragedy!

—Get out of the way! —roared one of the hunters—. We are going to end that threat once and for all!

Without listening to reason, the group of men passed by the protagonist at a fast pace, marching with murderous determination toward the sacred territory of Razor’s pack. The conflict that ______ so wanted to avoid was erupting before her eyes due to the narrow-mindedness of the humans.

—Damn it! —______ exclaimed, clenching her fists—. They are going straight toward the pack!

We ran as fast as we could, weaving through roots and thickets, desperately searching for Razor before Hopkins’ group could commit a madness. The forest seemed darker under the shadow of the tall trees, but finally, in a clearing surrounded by rocks, I spotted his gray hair.

I approached him in a rush and took him by the shoulders, trying to catch my breath. Apparently, we had managed to arrive before the hunters. What a relief.

—Razor! —I exclaimed.

Immediately, I noticed several pairs of yellow eyes igniting in the gloom. The pack, alerted by my sudden arrival and the physical contact, went on the defensive, baring their fangs with low, guttural growls. I let go of Razor carefully, raising my hands in a sign of peace.

—I’m sorry —I said, looking at the wolves to show them I wasn't a threat. Then, I turned my attention back to the boy—. Razor, you have to leave. The hunters are coming this way with nonsense in their brains... they think you are to blame for everything. You must get out of here right now.

Razor looked at me, confused, tilting his head as he sensed the urgency in my voice. His ears twitched as he picked up the distant sounds of heavy footsteps and the crunching of branches left by the men from Springvale.

—Hunters? —Razor asked, his raspy voice tinged with strangeness—. Pack do nothing. Pack be calm with meat you gave.

—Paimon knows you’re innocent! —the little guide shrieked, looking nervously behind us—. But they won't listen to reason! They say the wolves are a nuisance and they're coming armed with torches and crossbows. If you stay here, there will be a horrible fight!

One of the largest wolves, a male with ash-colored fur, stepped forward and let out a short howl, as if asking Razor what they should do. The boy clenched his fists, torn between his instinct to defend his territory and the warning I, his "Lupical," was giving him.

—They... come to attack my family? —Razor’s eyes shone with a spark of purple electricity for a second—. Forest be home of wolves. Humans have no right.

—I know, they have no right, but they think you have been the ones attacking. I can buy you time... I don't know what to do, I'm so sorry, my child —I said, my voice choked with worry, feeling the frustration of not being able to make the townspeople understand.

While my mind desperately searched for a solution, I felt something warm and damp on my hand. I lowered my gaze and saw one of the wolves from the pack; it wasn't growling, it was simply watching me with intelligent eyes and licking my hand calmly, as if it could feel my anguish.

—Uh?... Hello, little one —I murmured, softening my expression and giving the wolf a sweet smile despite the danger.

—He try to relax you —Razor said, watching the scene with a deep gaze—. Wolf know who is friend. Wolf know you... have heart of mother.

Razor straightened up and looked toward the path where the hunters' shouts could be heard. Then, he looked at his pack and let out a low growl, an order in his language that made the wolves begin to retreat into the shadows of the rocks.

—We must go to Guardian of this land —Razor said suddenly, with a new urgency in his voice. Without warning, he turned and took off running toward the depths of Wolvendom, moving through the trees with lightning speed.

—Wait, Razor! —I exclaimed, surprised by his sudden decision. I didn't have time to hesitate; I took off after him, dodging branches and jumping over fallen logs, trying not to lose sight of his gray mane in the underbrush.

—Wait for Paimon! —the little guide shouted, waving her small hands while she flew at full speed behind us, barely able to keep up with our pace—. Where are we going?! The hunters are going to get lost if we go this far!

Razor didn't answer; he just kept running with his senses on high alert. The air became denser and colder as we entered an area of the forest where the trees were so tall they barely let any sunlight through. The sound of the hunters began to fade, replaced by a deathly silence, broken only by the crunch of our footsteps on the dry leaves.

Finally, we reached an enormous natural arena surrounded by cliffs and remains of ancient structures. In the center, a cold and powerful energy emanated from the ground.

—Here be... —Razor said, coming to a dead stop, catching his breath—. Guardian see all. Guardian know truth.

—The Guardian? —I asked, looking around me cautiously. I felt an immense presence, something that went beyond a simple forest wolf.

—Paimon thought Barbatos was the one who ruled this nation —Paimon said between gasps, stopping for a moment to catch her breath after having flown at full speed after us.

—No... Barbatos be leader... Guardian is Guardian —Razor explained sharply, without stopping his determined advance.

We kept running through dense fog that seemed to sprout from the ground itself, until the trees parted to reveal a kind of ancient temple, a circular arena surrounded by crumbled stone walls and engravings that time had almost erased. The environment here wasn't just cold; it was solemn, charged with an ancestral energy that made the hair on my arms stand up.

—Razor, where are we?... —I asked, lowering my voice instinctively while my eyes swept the place with awe and respect.

—Home of Guardian... —Razor replied, finally stopping in the center of the structure.

I remained silent, observing the large ice stakes rising from the edges and the altar that presided over the place. It wasn't a temple for humans; it was a place of judgment. The wind here didn't blow, it roared softly, like an animal that sleeps but remains alert.

—It is an... incredible place —I murmured, feeling my own elemental sight vibrate before the presence of something much greater than ourselves.

Without us realizing it, the temple's silence was broken by the crunch of boots on stone. Two hunters burst into the sacred arena without any fear, adrenaline clouding their judgment. They pointed their weapons directly at Razor and me.

—It’s him! The one raised by wolves! —exclaimed one of them. If I remember correctly, his name is Jotun. He didn't stop aiming his bow at Razor, with the arrow taut and ready to be fired.

By instinct, before I could even process the danger, I used my Anemo ability. A gust of cutting wind struck Jotun's bow, snatching it from his hands and throwing it far against the temple walls.

—Don't aim at the boy —I said with a voice loaded with anger, moving quickly to place myself in front of Razor, covering him with my body.

—So it was you. I should have guessed. Wolves aren't smart enough to be behind this —said Hopkins, appearing behind Jotun with an expression of contempt—. Do they give you the scraps of their food and now you treat them like they're family? Have you forgotten what you are? —he added in a mocking tone that made my stomach churn.

I stared fixedly at Hopkins, clenching my fists. The lack of respect for Razor’s bond infuriated me more than the weapons pointed at us.

—Apparently, he is much more conscious than you. You are rude for talking to a child like that —I responded firmly, never stopping covering Razor for a second. I wasn't going to let his words wound him.

—We not attack village! —Razor exclaimed behind me, his voice trembling with rage suppressed by the unjust accusations.

Suddenly, the air became so cold that every breath turned into a white cloud. The energy in the center of the arena exploded, and a chilling, deep voice, so strong it made one's bones vibrate, rumbled in every corner of the structure.

—What disturbance is this that wakes me from my slumber? —said the grave and mysterious voice.

The hunters turned pale and retreated, stumbling over each other. From the center of the icy rift, an immense silhouette began to take shape: the Great Wolf of the North, Andrius, manifested before us with his eyes shining like icy stars, observing with judgment both the armed humans and us.

—Calm down, please! —Razor shouted, a note of anguish in his voice that he rarely showed. It was clear he deeply respected the entity standing before him, but he feared for what was about to happen.

—Razor... Is that Boreas?! —Paimon shrieked, completely terrified, tugging at my clothes to hide behind my back as if that could protect her from a god.

The gigantic ice wolf paid no attention to the little guide. His eyes, cold as permafrost, were locked on Razor with overwhelming intensity.

—Do you intend to protect the outsiders, Razor? —Andrius’ voice resonated in our heads like thunder—. Do you dare come here after attempting to kill my pack?

The temperature dropped drastically. The wind began to howl in circles around the arena, laden with ice crystals that cut like blades. Boreas began to channel Anemo and Cryo energy, and the ground beneath his paws instantly began to freeze. The hatred in his gaze toward Hopkins and Jotun was palpable; to him, they were mere invaders who had broken the peace of his sacred territory.

—I don't think we have any choice but to fight —I said, narrowing my eyes as I summoned my energy.

I knew the hunters wouldn't last a second against the fury of a guardian spirit. Before Boreas could launch his first attack, I extended my hands and released a controlled blast of wind. The impact launched Hopkins and Jotun into the air, depositing them forcefully against one of the arena's stone walls, far from the center of the conflict.

—Don't move from there! —I ordered them over my shoulder, with a voice that brooked no argument. If they wanted to live, they would have to stay still while I faced one of Mondstadt’s legends.

I took a combat stance, feeling the frigid air strike my face. Razor moved to my side, unsheathing his greatsword, which began to emit purple electricity sparks that contrasted with the blue of the ice.

—Lupical... —Razor murmured, looking at me for a second—. We fight together.

—That’s right, Razor. I won't let anything happen to you —I responded, concentrating my Anemo energy in the palm of my hand, ready to deflect the Great Wolf’s first strike.

The battle was fierce. Andrius’ movements were as fast as the wind and as heavy as a glacier. In a moment of fatigue, due to a lapse in my concentration while trying to ensure the hunters weren't struck by the ice, I let my guard down. The Great Wolf seized the flank and launched an attack at my back. I closed my eyes, expecting the impact, but I only heard the clash of metal against ice: Razor had stepped in with his greatsword, shielding me with a fierce growl.

Faced with that gesture of absolute loyalty, the snowstorm seemed to subside. Andrius’ aura calmed slightly.

—Please... Calm down... —Razor requested in a soft voice, lowering his weapon but remaining firm.

—Hmm!... —Andrius stopped growling, his golden eyes softening as he observed the hunters, who were trembling against the wall—. Razor has already spoken. A group of Hilichurls entered the territory. They will reap what they have sown.

The wolf turned his imposing gaze back toward the boy.

—But Razor, you must not get involved. This is a settling of scores between wolves. You do not fight with claws, but with a sword; you do not attack with teeth, but with lightning... You are a human.

—I am not like them! I do not belong to humans! —Razor replied with a seriousness that hurt, gripping the hilt of his sword.

—You are not a wolf. This is a matter of wolves, and nothing more than wolves —Andrius declared, then locked his eyes on me—. As for you, you are Razor's Lupical among humans. Your nobility makes you special among them.

The great spirit approached slowly, his frigid breath enveloping me as he sniffed.

—If that is what you wish, you may come and train with me. I have nothing more to say. I hope we meet again, Razor and company...

—Hmm... call me ______. It is an honor to meet Razor’s father —I said, flashing a sweet smile. The great wolf stiffened and stared at me, genuinely confused by my words.

—You humans and your strange words —Andrius muttered, though he no longer seemed angry.

With a courage that surprised even Paimon, I approached the guardian spirit and, with delicacy, stroked his nose. The fur of energy felt cold but comforting.

—Razor is noble... that means you were a great influence on him. But I suggest you keep a closer watch over this place. Today I was lucky enough to run into Razor, but... people are ignorant —I said, glancing at Hopkins and Jotun, who were pale with terror—. Tell me, how would you like to administer your justice?

Andrius remained silent, looking toward the hunters and then toward the horizon of Mondstadt.

—My justice is the wind that purifies the forest —he finally said—. Let those humans leave and carry the fear in their bones. If they return with hatred, the cold will have no mercy. Let them understand that the wolves do not seek their war, but do not fear ending it.

—So it shall be, I promise. I never break a promise —I said, maintaining that sweet smile, even in the face of the spirit’s imposing figure.

—I will trust your word, but if you lie to me, I will know —Andrius responded in a deep echo, attempting to intimidate me with his golden gaze one last time before his physical form finished dissolving into the cold air.

—Haha, relax —I responded with total relaxation, for I knew my intentions were pure.

I turned toward Razor, who was watching me with curious eyes, a little sad to see that I was already leaving. I reached out and tenderly stroked his head, ruffling his gray hair slightly.

—Take care, little one. Eat well and sleep well. If you ever need me, you can find me fishing... or just follow the trail of the wind —I said with a wink.

Razor nodded slowly, enjoying the gesture. —Amixtli... thank you. You be good Lupical. Goodbye.

I turned around and fixed a stern gaze on Hopkins and Jotun, who were still shaking like leaves. I didn't need to say much; my expression made it clear to them that their luck had run out.

—Walk. Now —I ordered firmly.

The Guardian of the North remained motionless, watching ______'s silhouette until the forest mist devoured her completely. The silence that followed her departure was different; it was no longer the deathly silence of the grave, but a vibrant one, charged with the echo of a sweetness that this temple of ice had never known.

Andrius lowered his great head, looking at the spot where she had stood.

—What a strange Lupical you have found, Razor... —the great spirit's voice did not rumble with its usual force, but with a note of almost human bewilderment—. She called me "father." She touched me as if my breath were not death itself, but a spring breeze.

Razor, who still felt the trace of ______'s hand on his hair, couldn't help but let a small, clumsy smile form on his face. His eyes shone with a soft light as he looked in the direction she had gone.

—Yes... that is why she be Lupical —Razor answered in a low voice, almost a whisper—. She is warm... and kind.

Andrius let out a huff that sent frost crystals flying, but he did not attack. He was profoundly confused. He, a spirit born of frost and judgment, who only knew respect through challenge and strength, had been disarmed by a smile and a caress on his nose. He did not understand how a human could possess such a blend of warrior authority and motherly tenderness.

—She asked me to watch over this place more... —the Wolf murmured, tilting his massive head—. She gave me orders as if I were her equal, and yet, her hands held no trace of malice. I do not understand her kind, Razor. They are cruel and selfish, but she... she seems to carry the sun of Mondstadt in her veins.

—______ be special —Razor nodded, gripping the hilt of his sword with gratitude—. She take care of pack. She not be "city human." She be... Lupical.

The Great Wolf of the North sighed, and for a moment, the cold of Wolvendom seemed less bitter.

—If she is your Lupical, I shall approve. She has a nobility I have not seen in many centuries —Andrius declared, his voice resonating with a solemnity that made the very air vibrate with respect.

Before retreating, the imposing spirit took a step toward the boy. With a movement slow and laden with a rough tenderness, he gently nudged Razor in the chest with his frozen nose—a gesture of recognition that only those of his pack understood. It was his way of telling him that, despite his doubts about humans, he trusted his pup's judgment.

—We will see her again, I am sure of it —added the Wolf of the North, as his form began to merge with the wind and frost of the sacred arena.

Razor stood there, receiving the nudge with firmness, feeling the comforting cold of the Guardian's nose. He watched as the god's presence faded, leaving him alone with the echo of his words. The boy sighed, feeling an immense weight lift off his shoulders. He had not only saved his pack from the hunters, but ______ had earned the respect of the oldest spirit in Wolvendom.

—Yes... see her again —Razor whispered, looking toward the path she had taken.

He touched his head, right where ______'s fingers had been just a few minutes ago. The chill of the mountain was still there, but inside him, the memory of her smile felt like a campfire in the middle of the snow.

As you stand there, the cool night air of the winery grounds feels stark against the lingering warmth of the day's events. You can feel the eyes of your companions upon you—Jean’s relief, Diluc’s quiet, observant scrutiny, and Venti’s expectant, musical energy.

Jean reaches out, her hand resting briefly on your shoulder, and you can feel her thumb brush against the fabric of your travel-worn clothes. Her gaze is sharp, taking in your disheveled appearance—the stray leaves, the slight smudge of forest soil, the weariness etched into your movements.

—You look as though you’ve been through a tempest, yet you’re smiling —Jean remarks softly, her voice losing its official edge. She seems to realize that whatever kept you wasn't a threat to be managed, but a life to be protected.

Diluc finally pushes off the column, his movements precise and purposeful. He walks toward you, stopping just outside of your personal space. He glances at the forest trail behind you, then back to your face.

—Whatever it was, I trust it was worth the detour —Diluc says, his voice low, lacking its usual sharp critique. He reaches out, and with a surprisingly gentle motion, he brushes a stray leaf from your hair, his fingers lingering for a fraction of a second longer than necessary before he pulls his hand away. —You smell of the forest and... something ancient. If we are to face Dvalin, you cannot go into it exhausted.

Venti hops off his barrel, the Lira Sagrada tucked securely beneath his arm. He skips over, his eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and ancient wisdom.

—Oh, don't be such a gloom-cloud, Master Diluc! Our heroine has returned with tales to tell, I’m sure! —Venti chimes in, his voice lilting like a bird in flight. He circles you, his expression shifting from playfulness to something more solemn. —The winds whispered to me that you were in Wolvendom. A dangerous place for the uninvited. But you were guided, weren't you?

Paimon, having finally caught her breath, decides it's time to take control of the narrative. She flies up, planting her small fists on her hips.

—You won't believe it! We saw the Great Wolf of the North! And ______ spoke to him as if he were just a grumpy dog! Everyone was ready to fight, and ______ just... petted his nose!

The courtyard falls into a sudden, stunned silence. Diluc’s brow furrows, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly, while Jean looks as though she’s struggling to reconcile the traveler she knows with the legend she’s just heard.

—Andrius... you spoke to Andrius? —Jean whispers, her professional veneer cracking in sheer disbelief.

You stand there, the center of their collective amazement, the exhaustion in your bones beginning to fade, replaced by a sense of quiet purpose. The air between you and the cliff—your final destination—feels charged with anticipation.

—It’s a long story, but one for later —you say, offering them a reassuring smile that bridges the gap between their shock and the mission ahead. —The Lyre is ready, the plan is set, and the night is ours. Are we going, or are we going to stand here until the sun rises?

Diluc lets out a soft, almost imperceptible scoff—the closest thing to a laugh you’ve heard from him tonight.

—The stars are waiting, traveler —he says, stepping aside to lead the way toward the path. —Let’s not keep them—or the dragon—waiting any longer.

The wind died down into a suffocating, unnatural stillness, leaving us braced against the jagged edges of the cliff. The Lira Sagrada lay in the dirt—a ruined, shattered mess of wood and broken strings. My heart sank. That connection, that bridge to Dvalin’s soul, had been severed by a coward's strike.

—You... you broke it! —Venti’s voice was no longer that of a playful bard. It was cold, sharp, and utterly devoid of its usual melodic lilt. He dropped to his knees, his fingers trembling as he touched the splintered frame of the Lyre.

Diluc didn't waste a second on regret. He stood over me, his greatsword already ignited with flickering flames, his eyes fixed on the Abyss Mage still hovering near the dragon’s crest.

—Jean! Take the traveler and get clear of the cliff edge! —Diluc commanded, his voice barely audible over the growing roar of Dvalin’s wings. —I’m going to draw his fire. If we don’t break that Mage’s control, the dragon will level Mondstadt before we even get a chance to breathe!

Jean didn't argue. She grabbed my arm, her grip firm and resolute.

—We have to move! Dvalin is going to dive! —she shouted, pulling me toward the shelter of the ancient rock formations behind us.

The sky above turned a bruised, violent purple. Dvalin circled back, his massive form blotting out the stars. He wasn't just angry; he was weeping dark, viscous tears that sizzled as they hit the stone, corroding everything they touched. Every beat of his wings sent down a rain of debris and corruption.

I looked up, my hands clenched into fists, the sting of the Cryo attack still burning my shoulder.

—Dvalin! It’s not the humans! It’s them! —I yelled, pointing at the Abyss Mage, but the dragon only let out a shriek that sounded like grinding metal. He was beyond the reach of words now.

—It’s no use! —Jean cried out, summoning a swirl of wind to deflect a volley of elemental energy that rained down upon us. —The corruption has taken hold too deeply. We have to ground him!

Suddenly, Venti stood up. His eyes were glowing with a fierce, brilliant teal light. He didn't look like a bard anymore; he looked like a god who had been pushed too far. He reached out, not for his broken instrument, but for the very atmosphere around us.

—You want to play with the wind? —Venti’s voice echoed across the cliffside, sounding like a thousand voices speaking in unison.—Then let us dance!

He lunged forward, not in retreat, but directly into the path of Dvalin’s next dive. He moved with a speed that defied human perception, his arms weaving intricate patterns in the air. A massive updraft erupted from the ground, catching the dragon’s wings mid-descent and forcing him to tilt, breaking his attack trajectory.

—Now, traveler! —Venti shouted, his voice straining under the immense power he was channeling.—The Mage is exposed! If you can reach him, you can break the dragon’s chains!

I didn't think. I didn't hesitate. I vaulted over a jagged rock, the wind from Venti’s spell lifting me higher than I had ever jumped before. My eyes locked onto the Abyss Mage, who was cackling as he prepared another ritual of corruption.

I drew my sword, the metal humming with the remnant of the Anemo energy I had absorbed from the tears.

—This ends now! —I shouted, diving toward the creature as the world around us blurred into a chaotic storm of flame, wind, and dragon fire.

—Barbat... Venti, be careful —Jean said, her voice betraying deep concern as she approached us.

—Haha! You’ve known my true identity for a long time, haven't you, Jean? —Venti replied, offering a somewhat disheartened smile as he gazed at the remains of the lyre—. But I am grateful you continue to call me Venti —he added with sincere gratitude.

Diluc, who had kept his gaze fixed on the spot where the dragon had vanished, asked in a stunned but clearly concerned tone: —How is the Holy Lyre? Can you still play it, or do we need to fix it?

—Hm... Unfortunately, I fear it is impossible to fix... —Venti declared thoughtfully, as the fragments of the instrument lost their elemental glow.

—Dvalin... he is in grave danger —I said, feeling a knot in my stomach from the desperation I had seen in his eyes—. We must act now. Venti, what is your plan B? —I stared at him, searching for an alternative.

—That is correct. If we don't tear this evil out by the root, we won't be able to save Dvalin —Diluc intervened, clenching his fist firmly.

—In which case, I will turn to Amber to locate him... —Jean proposed, reclaiming her Acting Grand Master mindset.

—That won't be necessary —Diluc interrupted sharply.

—What do you mean? —Jean asked, turning to look at him in confusion.

—Not long ago, I got rid of an Abyss Mage in one of the Four Winds' Temples —Diluc replied with absolute calm, as if discussing the weather.

—What?! When?! —Paimon shrieked, spinning in the air in surprise.

—I actually don't think that's something you want to know, Paimon —I said, giving her a sweet but somewhat mischievous smile, knowing that Diluc’s methods tend to be... intense.

—If you want to track those monsters, I will ask my contacts. I can do the job through other means —Diluc continued, completely ignoring the little guide’s astonishment.

—Diluc... even though he doesn't like the Knights of Favonius, he has his own methods to protect Mondstadt —Paimon murmured, visibly moved by the winery owner’s dedication.

—Wow, little Paimon has suddenly become very understanding —Venti teased, trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere surrounding us.

—Hmm... Stay alert for my news —Diluc concluded, maintaining his cold composure—. Let the Abyss Order know that their contempt for Mondstadt —his voice turned icy and charged with contained rage— will not go unpunished.

—Mm... how long do you think it will take, Diluc? —______ asked, staring at him intently.

—I don't know. This is of the utmost importance; let's return to the Dawn Winery —he replied, regaining his usual tone.

—Yes, I think that is for the best —Jean nodded, feeling the weight of exhaustion on her shoulders.

As we stepped out into the crisp night, the Dawn Winery estate felt like a kingdom of shadows and starlight. Diluc led the way, his stride silent and predatory. He moved not like a man searching, but like a hunter who knew exactly what kind of beast he was tracking. Jean walked just behind him, her posture impeccable, her eyes scanning the treeline for any sign of movement.

Venti walked beside me, his usual carefree stride tempered by a rare, thoughtful silence. The moonlight caught the silver in his hair, and for a moment, he looked every bit the ancient deity Paimon struggled to reconcile with the "lazy bard" persona.

—You’re quiet, Venti —I murmured, keeping my voice low.

He glanced at me, his emerald eyes reflecting the distant stars. —The Abyss... they speak in a language of rot and forgotten things, _______. It’s a weight even the wind finds difficult to lift. But seeing you stand with such conviction? It makes the melody feel a little lighter.

Paimon, who had been hovering unusually close to my shoulder, suddenly darted ahead to where Diluc had stopped abruptly near the edge of the vineyard. The red-haired man held up a gloved hand, signaling us to freeze.

—Look —Diluc whispered, pointing toward a patch of dark, withered vines near the boundary of the estate.

The plants there weren't just dormant; they were blackened, curled into themselves as if shriveled by a freezing, unnatural rot. A faint, violet-tinged vapor hung over the soil—the unmistakable signature of the Abyss.

—They were here —Jean said, her voice turning into that of a commanding general. She drew her blade, the steel catching the moonlight. —The trail is fresh. If they were sabotaging the crops, they couldn't have gone far.

—This isn't just sabotage —Diluc noted, kneeling to inspect the decaying earth. He stood up, his face hardening. —This is a beacon. They aren't just hiding; they are taunting us.

Suddenly, a high-pitched, manic giggle echoed from the darkness. A shadow detached itself from the gloom—a Abyss Mage, encased in a swirling aura of Hydro, materialized in a burst of bubbles and dark energy.

—The heroes of Mondstadt... scurrying through the dirt like ants! —the Mage taunted, its voice grating and inhuman. —You think you can save the dragon? You think you can mend what the Abyss has already claimed? You are too late!

—Enough talk! —Diluc’s voice was a whip-crack. He didn't wait for a tactical discussion. In a flash of crimson, he unleashed a wave of searing flame, the heat so intense it parted the night air.

The Abyss Mage shrieked, instantly erecting a shield of swirling water.

—Go! —Diluc shouted, his back to us as he kept the Mage pinned with a relentless barrage of fire. —Don't let it teleport again!

Jean was already in motion, a streak of white and gold as she lunged toward the Mage's flank. Paimon squeaked and dove behind a barrel, and I felt the familiar hum of Anemo gathering in my palms. The hunt had truly begun.

As we followed Diluc, we came across an improvised Hilichurl camp led by a Cryo Abyss Mage. We didn't waste a second; we engaged them all quickly, taking advantage of the fact that the adrenaline of combat had washed away our earlier fatigue. Just as I was about to keep walking, Venti stopped and began to speak with a seriousness that made me stop dead in my tracks.

—After defeating the Abyss Mage, its body released a type of energy... —Venti said, looking thoughtful—. It appears it can be used to cut the connection between Dvalin and me.

He turned and searched for me with his gaze.

—______, are you familiar with Stormterror's Lair? —Venti asked me.

—Hmm?... I’ve heard of it, but I don't know much about it in depth —I replied, trying to recall what I’d heard about Stormterror's Lair.

—Then I will tell you more. After Dvalin woke up, he made the ancient ruins his lair —Venti explained, now looking toward the horizon—. Just like the storms that isolated Mondstadt from the rest of the world, the entrance to the ruins is also sealed by a special barrier... But now, as the energy dissipated from the Abyss Mage, I was able to read the rhythmic flow with which the magic barrier was woven.

He let out a soft giggle, returning for a second to his carefree attitude.

—I have to admit, it sounds worse than a Hilichurl choir, but... This should be enough to break the barrier and reach the interior of Stormterror's Lair.

I noticed the atmosphere become tense immediately. Diluc took a step forward, arms crossed and wearing that gaze that feels like it’s piercing right through you.

—Does that mean we are going to face Dvalin? —Diluc asked, looking at him very seriously.

—As far as I'm concerned, it's fine... It’s Jean who wants to avoid any kind of confrontation —Diluc said, casting a side-glance at the Acting Grand Master, as if challenging her to admit that diplomacy no longer worked.

—No. When there are no options left, changing strategy is my responsibility —Jean responded firmly, looking at all of us with a determination that commanded respect.

—As expected of the Acting Grand Master —I commented, giving her a smile of pride. I knew how difficult it was for her to make that decision.

—If killing him is the only option, I will be the first knight on the front lines —Jean declared, with a seriousness that chilled the blood.

—I don't think killing him is necessary; we only need to free him from the corrupt energy —I intervened quickly. I felt a cold drop of sweat run down my forehead, but I maintained my smile so as not to lose my composure at the thought of seeing Dvalin die.

—Yes, ______ is right —Venti added, matching my reaction with another little drop of sweat on his forehead, forcing a smile to accompany me.

—Then, how will we do it? —Diluc asked, crossing his arms, visibly serious but confused by our optimism.

—Does that mean... we have another plan? —Jean said, just as lost as Diluc.

—That means the Holy Lyre is not our last ace up the sleeve —Venti said, turning toward me with a special sparkle in his eyes—. There is no doubt that our best card is... ______! —he introduced me with an epic pose, as if announcing the heroine of one of his ballads.

—Eh? —I looked at him, blinking, totally confused.

—______? —repeated Paimon, floating around me with the same expression of bewilderment.

—Oh! It’s because I can purify the tears, right? —I asked Venti, trying to keep up with him.

—Correct! But you have another strong point that is even more valuable —Venti replied, smiling in a carefree way while making a dramatic pause to add suspense—. The impurities in the tears and the curse binding Dvalin come from the same evil power.

—Don't start with that, hack bard! That would be too dangerous! —Paimon shrieked, turning red with rage—. Have you seen Dvalin’s huge jaws? He would devour ______ before she could even blink!

—Don't exaggerate, Paimon. I know I can handle it; besides, I’ve been told I’m a very strong Knight —I said, puffing out my chest a little and smiling with pride. I wasn't going to let a giant dragon, no matter how intimidating, make me doubt now.

—We are counting on you, Honorary Knight —Jean said, with a mixture of relief and concern in her gaze. It was evident that, although she trusted me, it weighed on her to leave such responsibility on my shoulders.

—So, our enemies are the Abyss monsters... and a dragon! Nothing to stress about —Paimon added, using that sarcastic tone of hers while floating nervously around me.

—Humans have our pride and courage. Prepare your weapons! —Diluc declared. He completely ignored Paimon’s comment and began to walk with a firm step toward the direction of Stormterror's Lair, leading the march with that determination that characterizes him.

—And... so, the heroes' exploits have led them to the final chapter —recited Venti, giving his words that rhythmic tone. He began to walk too, following Diluc with a lightness that contrasted with the gravity of the situation.

—That sounded very sweet, Venti —I told him, smiling sweetly as I began to walk beside them.

—Ehe... Thanks! I said it with all my heart —Venti responded, smiling back at me with a spark of sincerity in his eyes that made me feel that, despite everything, we were doing the right thing.

We walked for a good while as the terrain became steeper. As we approached Stormterror's Lair, the wind began to howl with a force that forced us to tilt our bodies so as not to lose our balance.

—Wow, it’s a storm barrier! —Paimon exclaimed in surprise—. That looks very dangerous!

—Leave it to me! —Venti said with a confident smile—. Although this wooden lyre is all I have... haha, I don't need it to break this storm barrier. One moment... what is that? —Venti pointed behind us, changing his expression to one of total surprise.

We all turned at the same time and saw a group of Hilichurls appear from the shadows. The most unsettling thing was that they had a kind of red aura surrounding them, as if they were under a dark frenzy.

—The enemy attacks, prepare to fight! —Jean ordered, summoning her sword and getting into a combat position immediately.

—I should clear the stage before playing! —Venti added, preparing his bow, although he made a dramatic grimace—. Although I must say it isn't a task for a singer.

—Venti, if you don't help, I won't invite you to three bottles of Dandelion wine! —I shouted at him as I dodged the first attack from a shielded Hilichurl.

—Eh!?... Wait, no! —Venti exclaimed, terrified by the threat, firing Anemo arrows at full speed so I wouldn't cancel the deal.

(How easy it is to persuade him...), Diluc, Jean, and Paimon thought at the same time, with an imaginary drop of sweat on their heads seeing how the bard picked up the pace for a bit of alcohol.

The battle began in earnest. The red aura made the monsters more resistant, but we were coordinated. Diluc struck with flames that lit up the darkness of the canyon, while Jean held the defensive line with precise gusts.

—Wait!, what is happening? —Jean asked, surprised, as she used her elemental power to launch several Hilichurls into the air that were trying to surround her—. There shouldn't be camps around Stormterror's Lair.

—Then the Abyss Order is indeed involved —I said, as I summoned a tornado that finished sweeping away the last ones remaining—. Is everyone okay? —I asked, looking at them with concern.

—I am fine, ehe! —responded Venti with his usual smile.

—I am also fine —Jean nodded, wiping a little sweat from her forehead and regaining her posture.

—Paimon is fine! —the little one shrieked, returning quickly to my side.

—I am fine too; I didn't think we would find so many nuisances —added Diluc, visibly angered by the interruption.

—Hmm... how strange. Hilichurls never venture to go to places that are full of elemental energy —Venti commented, becoming serious for a moment—. It is an enormous burden on their bodies...

—The Abyss Order must be behind this. Supposedly they are using their forces to stop us, but perhaps they don't yet know that we are already here —Diluc concluded cautiously.

—Then, without further ado... —Venti looked around—. I think I can play faster if my only audience is the wind.

Venti began to play his lyre in front of the storm shield. With just two movements of his fingers, the barrier reacted and shattered, releasing a gust of wind so strong it hit all of us, forcing us to cover our faces.

—It opened! Paimon cannot believe you are finally useful, hack bard! —exclaimed Paimon, catching her breath.

—Paimon, don't be rude —I told her, laughing a little while I shook the dust from my clothes.

—Good, now let's go straight to Stormterror's Lair —Jean ordered, mixing nervousness with seriousness—. Advance with caution, everyone.

We entered the heart of the lair. Upon seeing what was inside, I was speechless. In my opinion, it looked more like a city than a simple lair... All the architecture was full of ornaments and ancient writings. It was evident that this place was magnificent long before it became Dvalin’s refuge.

This is something I never thought I’d do. Usually, I only do paperwork at home; I didn't think I would be walking through the ruins of a lost civilization. It is fascinating, I suppose, but I keep expecting danger to surprise us at every corner. The weight of history on these walls gives me goosebumps.

—That must be the main entrance to Stormterror's Lair! —Paimon exclaimed, astonished—. The door is huge compared to us... Paimon wonders how Dvalin will enter with a body that big.

—I think he just flies, though I have to admit that if I imagine him entering through a door, it would be adorable —I said, laughing softly while continuing to run toward the structure.

—I don't think now is the time for such questions —Jean reminded me, although she let out a slight sigh, briefly caught up in my optimism.

—Hehe... He doesn't enter walking, he enters flying —Venti clarified, amused by the conversation.

—I knew it! —I exclaimed while laughing a little.

—That makes sense... —Paimon murmured, realizing the obvious.

However, upon arriving in front of the huge door, we stopped dead in our tracks. The path was completely obstructed by tons of stone and remnants of ancient, collapsed columns.

—The entrance is blocked —Jean said, looking with frustration at how the debris prevented us from passing.

—Look at the roof —I said, pointing toward the very top of the tower—. There is a big hole up there; I’m sure we could get through there if we manage to climb up.

—"Yes... but how?" asked Diluc, evaluating the impossible height of the walls.

—"Hmm... I suppose I could create a wind current that takes us up there," Venti suggested, looking upward with complicity.

—"It looks like we’ll have to make some detours," Paimon said, smiling mischievously as she stared fixedly at me.

—"Hm?... Paimon, why are you looking at me?" I asked, not understanding anything, sensing that they were plotting something.

—"Because you’re the best planner out of all of us, obviously!" Paimon exclaimed. "I’m sure the hack bard wants you to be the first one to jump to test if the wind is safe!"

—"Hey!" I protested, feigning indignation while Venti let out a mischievous giggle.

—"Let’s not waste time with this now, we must keep moving," Diluc said as he resumed running. We all started to follow him, navigating the cracks in the ancient ground.

—"Hm... do you think there are Abyss Mages hidden in the ruins?" Paimon asked, sticking a little closer to me with a scared look. "If we run into one, we’ll let the victorious Mr. Diluc..."

—"Don't underestimate the enemies I have defeated," Diluc interrupted, maintaining his serious tone. "It’s not that I want to brag. I just want to say that there are even more monstrous beings among the ranks of that disgusting Abyss Order," he added, and I could notice the poison in his voice when mentioning the Order.

—"I’m sure I don't want to ask," Paimon murmured, shrugging her shoulders and looking nervously toward the shadows of the columns.

—"Hehe! Correct! That’s why I joined you," Venti said, smiling with that calm that was sometimes maddening. "Well... that, and for your safety."

—"More like you just came here so that we all do the work!" Paimon complained, pouting while pointing at him with her finger.

—Sighs "I am so diligent! Too diligent to be a bard, I would say," Venti replied, ignoring Paimon’s tantrum with enviable elegance.

—"Paimon doesn't understand what part of you is diligent!" she retorted, frowning and crossing her arms in the air.

We kept moving forward while attacking the creatures that approached us. Honestly, I only summoned a bit of my Anemo ability just to keep them away; we can't waste strength on this when the hardest part is yet to come. When we finally reached the top, I couldn't help but gasp a little, tired.

—"Phew... we finally made it," I said, smiling a bit relieved, resting my hands on my knees to catch my breath.

—"Look over there, a wind current!" Paimon exclaimed, pointing toward an updraft that glowed with intensity. "It can take us to the top of the tower."

—"Good! That will be our path to the top," Venti said, smiling.

One by one, we let ourselves be guided by the current, feeling the void beneath our feet until we finally landed on the highest part. But the path was not clear.

—"We can't go any further. It seems the ruins are protected by some ancient seals," Venti explained upon seeing the magical barriers that blocked our way.

—"Could this be Dvalin’s doing?" Paimon asked, worried about the dragon's power.

—"No. These ruins were part of an ancient city in the past. It’s mere coincidence that Dvalin is taking shelter here," Venti said, defending his friend immediately. "These ruins are even older than the Four Winds."

—"Hm?... Then, what do these ruins symbolize, Venti?" I asked, looking at him with curiosity and waiting for him to continue.

—"Mondstadt is a city without a king. But before that... it was ruled by a tyrant," Venti replied, and for a moment his gaze became gloomy, charged with an ancient anger, as if he were remembering something painful. Then, he made his typical carefree smile. "Well... I’ll tell you the story another day."

—"The marks on this seal... if my knowledge of archaeology doesn't fail me, it’s a light activator," Diluc intervened, analyzing the engravings on the floor. "If we put the missing pieces back into the light activator, we can carry out a light ceremony."

—"Very well, Paimon understands," Paimon said as she looked at me, noticing that I was very quiet. "______?"

—"Forgive me, Paimon! It’s just that I’m amazed by this," I replied, smiling happily while observing the architectural details. Then I looked at everyone and stopped daydreaming. "Forgive me... it’s just incredible to be here."

This is something I never thought I’d do. Usually, I just do paperwork at home; I didn't think I’d be here admiring the archaeology of a lost city while an immortal bard tells us stories of tyrants. It’s fascinating, I suppose, but I keep hoping my distraction doesn't cost us dearly. The energy emanating from these seals is so pure that I can almost feel it vibrating against my skin.

—"We are about to activate the mechanism for the light ceremony," Jean said, trying to hide a small laugh at my enthusiasm. "Let’s put the last piece in first to see what happens."

—"Very well," I said as I smiled.

—"Paimon understands!" Paimon exclaimed.

Paimon and I placed the last missing piece of the mechanism. Upon doing so, we saw how a part of the seal broke, making the structure vibrate beneath our feet. We approached Venti quickly.

—"It seems we were right," Venti said, relieved. "There are three more halos around the tower."

—"Which means there are three more light activators that we have to turn on..." Jean added, shifting into strategist mode.

—"We’ll have to split into teams again, that way it will be faster. I’ll go with Venti and Paimon," I said, smiling as I grabbed both of them by the shoulders.

—"Er... understood," Jean responded. I noticed she lowered her gaze a bit, disappointed; it was obvious she wanted to work with me on this part.

—"Very well, it seems logical. You are the only one who can control this bard," Diluc commented. Although his voice was firm, it was clear he didn't like being separated from me in such a dangerous place.

—"Why would Dvalin choose a place full of puzzles and seals as his lair? Doesn't it seem like a nuisance when he returns home?" Paimon asked, scratching her head.

—"He doesn't enter walking. He can do it flying," Venti replied, laughing.

—"...You have a point," Paimon admitted, sighing.

This is something I never thought I’d do. Usually, my life in Mondstadt is much quieter, helping here and there, but I didn't think I’d be here dividing teams with the city’s protectors to storm an ancient tower. It’s exciting, I suppose, but I keep hoping Jean and Diluc don't get distracted thinking about us and focus on their part. Seeing their disappointed faces made me feel a little guilty, but I know that with Venti, we will advance faster.

—"Well, let’s go!" Venti said, turning around. "The wind will guide us to the missing pieces!"

We parted ways with Master Diluc and Jean. While _______ and I were searching for one of the light mechanisms, the atmosphere felt strangely calm, almost as if the wind itself were holding its breath. When we finally found one, _______ collected each of the glowing objects with astonishing precision and placed them carefully into the mechanism.

—Hehe... how strange, usually this can be more complicated —I said as I looked at _______, scratching the back of my neck with a sideways smile. I was expecting at least a couple of those riddles that leave you scratching your head for hours.

—Now that you mention it, you're right —_______ said while crossing her arms, looking around with a mix of disappointment and relief—. I was expecting a fight or something like that; maybe we're just lucky.

—Hehe, you're right! Maybe fate realized I already spent my quota of effort for the day —I replied, letting out a giggle.

—Paimon just wants to tell you both not to say anything else! —Paimon intervened, floating frantically between us and waving her hands as if she were trying to shoo away bad luck—. It seems like you’re begging for something to go wrong! If something appears out of nowhere because of you two, Paimon is going to use Venti as a human shield!

—Hey, how cruel! —I exclaimed, feigning injury, but right at that moment, a metallic, screeching sound echoed throughout the platform. Clank!

A huge Ruin Guard, which had seemed like just a pile of scrap metal sitting in a corner, lit its red eye with a deafening BEEP! and began to rise heavily.

—EHE! There's your luck! —I shouted, jumping backward as I summoned my bow—. Paimon, I think your prophecies come true faster than my rhymes!

—Paimon hates being right! Run! —she shrieked, hiding behind _______.

I looked at _______ with an amused grimace as the robot began to warm up its engines.

—Well, it looks like we'll have to put on a show after all! Don't you think, Mondstadt's number one bard? —_______ said with a smile of absolute confidence while summoning her sword, which glowed under the light of the mechanism.

—Hehe! You're right, Honorary Knight! It’s time to put on a show worthy of the gods! —I replied enthusiastically, twirling my bow between my fingers.

—Paimon thinks this is not the time to play! —Paimon shrieked, her feet kicking in the air from nerves—. That thing is solid metal and has an eye that shoots lasers! Focus!

The Ruin Guard let out a metallic roar and began to load its back-mounted missiles. The sound of the accelerating engines was deafening.

—Oh, come on, Paimon! Don't be like that —I said as I began to levitate a bit off the ground, surrounded by Anemo energy feathers—. With _______ in the lead, this pile of scrap doesn't stand a chance. Look at her! She even looks like she’s having fun!

I got into position, drawing the string of my bow as the wind began to swirl around me.

—Tell me, _______! —I shouted over the noise of the gears—. Do you want me to lift it into the air with a big tornado, or would you prefer I shoot directly at its weak point while you deliver the final blow?

—Whatever you think is faster is fine by me —_______ said, dodging the robot's attacks with an elegance that would make even the Sword Masters of Mondstadt jealous.

—Hmm... maybe I'll do the latter —I replied with a mischievous smile.

I drew the string of my bow, accumulating a small sphere of Anemo energy at the tip of my arrow. With a quick and accurate movement, I shot directly at the core—that big glowing eye—of the Ruin Guard. The impact was perfect; there was an electrical pop, and the metal giant began to malfunction, emitting sparks and making slower, clumsier movements. Finally, its knees gave out, and it collapsed to the ground, powering down momentarily.

—Looks like it's my turn! —_______ exclaimed.

Taking advantage of the opening, she lunged forward with incredible speed. Her sword glowed with blinding intensity as she struck the final blow, severing the robot's main circuits. The Ruin Guard slumped heavily, becoming little more than a pile of inert scrap metal that echoed against the stones.

—Paimon can't believe it was that easy! —Paimon said, emerging from her hiding place and sighing with relief as she wiped imaginary sweat from her forehead.

—Hehe, were you planning to fight that thing all by yourself, Paimon? —I asked her, lowering my bow and looking at her with amusement.

—EH?! Not at all! Paimon couldn't fight that! —she shouted, waving her hands in a panic—. Paimon is emotional support and a tour guide, not a robot demolisher!

I laughed heartily as I approached _______. We really made a great team.

—Well, hack bard, stop making fun of Paimon —she said, though a giggle escaped her too—. The seal should be completely unlocked by now.

We looked toward the center of the platform, and indeed, the light from the second activator was now rising strongly into the sky, connecting with the central tower.

—Two down, two to go! —Paimon exclaimed, regaining her usual energy—. Let's go, we have to find Jean and Mr. Diluc before they take all the credit!

—This isn't a competition, Paimon —_______ said, smiling softly, though it was clear she was amused by our energy.

—Hehe! Of course it isn't... because we’re winning! —I replied, puffing out my chest with pride and giving my lyre a little tap. After all, defeating a Ruin Guard with such style deserved a special mention in my ballads.

—Paimon agrees with the hack bard for the first time! —Paimon exclaimed, mimicking my gesture and puffing out her little chest with pride too—. We are the fastest team in all of Mondstadt!

—What will I ever do with you two? —_______ said, laughing softly, with a bead of sweat on her forehead as she looked at us. I suppose our combination of a conceited bard and a chatterbox guide is a bit hard to handle.

We set off to look for the third mechanism, walking over the ancient stone bridges that connected the towers. The wind blew between the broken pillars, creating a natural melody that made me feel nostalgic.

—Do you feel that? —I asked, stopping suddenly at the edge of a ruined arch—. The air here is changing. It’s no longer just Dvalin’s storm... there’s something else, something that smells like old magic and... burning?

In the distance, on the next platform, we could see flashes of red flames and turquoise gusts of wind crashing against a dark shield.

—Look over there! —Paimon screamed—. Those are Master Diluc and Master Jean! It looks like they’re surrounded by Abyss Mages!

We got a little careless... We had placed almost all of the light pieces into the mechanism, but just as we were about to place the last one, the situation spiraled out of control. Two Abyss Mages appeared out of nowhere alongside a horde of Hilichurls that surrounded us in the blink of an eye. No matter how hard we fought or how many enemies Master Diluc struck down with his flames, more kept appearing from the shadows of the ruins.

To make matters worse, the mages invoked a wall of corrupted Anemo that kept us trapped. It was a violent barrier; even brushing against it caused the wind to cut like blades and wound us. I felt frustrated, clenching my fist around the hilt of my sword, desperately looking for an opening.

—Don't worry! —I heard a voice say, immediately restoring my hope.

When I looked up, I saw _______, Paimon, and the bard... no, Barbatos, landing with astonishing elegance right in front of us, breaking the enemy encirclement.

—Ehe! Sorry for the delay, it was difficult to get the barrier up as high as possible —Venti said, smiling with that nonchalance of his that, while sometimes exhausting, was the most comforting sound in the world right now. With a simple flick of his hand, he summoned a gust that sent the Hilichurls flying through the air like dry leaves.

Seeing _______ there, standing tall and ready for battle, gave me a second wind. She looked so determined that the fear I felt for the safety of Mondstadt seemed to dissipate for a moment.

—Honorary Knight! —I exclaimed, trying to regain my official posture—. I'm glad you arrived. This wind barrier has us blocked; we can't get near the altar to place the final piece!

—Leave it to us! —shouted Paimon, floating with energy now that the group was reunited—. The "Venti-_______-Paimon" team already defeated a giant robot; these mages are nothing!

Diluc let out a snort, though I noticed his shoulders relax a bit upon seeing us all together.

—Less talk and more action —Diluc said, charging his greatsword with fire—. If the bard can disperse that wind wall, I’ll take care of melting their shields.

—In that case, Venti, do the honors please —_______ said with a confident smile, looking at the bard like someone who knows she has an ace up her sleeve.

—Ehe! All right, although it’s a lot of work... you’ll owe me more wine for this! —Venti replied, winking as his fingers began to dance over the strings of his lyre. The music that emanated from it was no ordinary melody; it was a command to the wind itself. In an instant, the violent walls of corrupted Anemo that were suffocating us began to dissolve as if they were mere smoke.

—Paimon can't believe you’re saying that at a time like this! —Paimon shrieked, pouting, though she looked relieved not to be trapped anymore.

With the path cleared and the enemies exposed, _______ took a step forward and pointed ahead.

—Young Diluc, all yours! —she exclaimed, giving him the signal to attack.

—Fine... it’s time for Retribution! —Diluc declared with a voice that chilled the blood. His greatsword ignited in flames so intense that the air around us began to distort from the heat. With a massive circular motion, he unleashed a fire phoenix that swept the platform entirely, reducing the Hilichurls to ashes and shattering the Abyss Mages' shields as if they were made of glass.

The roar was such that the ruins vibrated, and when the fire dissipated, there was no trace of the enemies left, only tiny ashes floating in the air.

—Remind Paimon never to make Master Diluc angry... —whispered Paimon, floating a bit further away from him, clearly impressed (and a little scared) by such a display of power.

I stood watching the scene for a second, catching my breath. Seeing them work like this, coordinated by _______, was something worthy of legends. The missing light piece lay on the ground, now accessible.

—The three side seals are ready —I said, feeling the pressure in the air change—. Only the final step remains.

_______ walked to the altar and placed the final piece. A beam of pure light shot from our mechanism toward the dome of the central tower, and the great seal protecting Dvalin’s lair finally shattered with a sound that resonated throughout the entire place.

—Well, it seems the seal is finally broken. We’d better head back —_______ said as she let out a long sigh of relief. I was moved to see her like that; despite not being one of the Knights of Favonius, she has shouldered this mission as if it were her own duty. Although, judging by how she is stretching, I think she is also seriously thinking about a nap.

—Well... let "Lord Barbatos" summon the blizzard to take us there —Master Diluc declared, crossing his arms and fixing an icy gaze upon the bard. I noticed he placed special emphasis on the Archon's name; he was basically calling him "God of the Wind" so he wouldn't have any excuses to walk.

—Eh? But... it’s so much work! —Venti complained, pouting in a way that felt almost surreal. I find it hard to process that the god I swore to protect has the attitude of a teenager who doesn't want to do his homework. Is this really the being who molded the mountains of Mondstadt? Or has the wine softened his spirit?

—Don't be lazy, Hack Bard! —Paimon scolded him, floating in front of him with her arms crossed and cheeks puffed out—. Paimon is hungry and if we don't finish this soon, Paimon will faint from lack of sugar!

—Come on, Venti, you’re not the number one bard in Mondstadt for nothing —_______ added, laughing softly. I noticed she has a unique way of dealing with him; she manages to make him yield without the need for orders or protocols. If I tried, I would probably end up citing three air transport laws of the Knights.

—Ah, with those compliments I can't refuse! —Venti exclaimed, bowing so dramatically that his hat almost fell off—. May the wind carry us then! And let no one complain if their hair gets messed up!

Venti began to play a vibrant melody on his lyre. Suddenly, I felt the air pressure change. An updraft, warm and powerful, enveloped us all. It wasn't a violent wind, but one that held us with magical softness... although Paimon let out a scream because she was shot upward like a cider cork.

Venti summoned a powerful gust of wind that lifted us all, carrying us directly toward Dvalin. The sky was a chaos of purple clouds and cutting winds. As soon as we were close enough, the dragon sensed our presence; he let out a roar that vibrated through my bones and began to attack us with several rays of light charged with dark, piercing Anemo energy.

—They seem to be poisonous blood clots accumulating in his wounds... —Venti said with a serious, worried tone he rarely used—. The Abyss Order must have cursed the wounds. That is what is corrupting Dvalin’s mind.

—Take it easy, Venti —I said to him, trying to encourage him while I maneuvered in the air. I couldn't imagine what he felt seeing his old friend turned into this.

—To save Dvalin, we must first get rid of those blood clots —Venti declared, regaining his firmness.

—Right... Diluc, attack one! On my signal, fire! —I shouted over the roar of the wind as I summoned my own Anemo ability, feeling the power flowing through my hands—. NOW!

Just as I asked, Diluc invoked his Pyro ability. His fire phoenix and my gust of wind merged into a burning whirlwind that impacted directly where the corrupted blood clots were. It clearly hurt Dvalin horribly; he writhed in the air, dodging us and sending more bursts of energy our way. We didn't stop and kept attacking that infected area with everything we had, but suddenly, Dvalin beat his wings hard and flew off too quickly.

—Dvalin is moving away... But I know his tricks. Keep trying —Venti said with a mixture of seriousness and defiant amusement.

While Venti was telling me that, Dvalin sent a rain of attacks toward us. I dodged them as fast as I could while holding Venti with one arm to prevent him from being hurt by the turbulence.

—Wow, your friend really has a lot of energy, Venti! —I said, laughing a little despite the danger, making a sharp turn to avoid a lightning bolt. Paimon wouldn't let go of me at all; she was hugging me with all her might from behind, almost leaving me breathless.

—Paimon doesn't think she can hold on any longer! —she shrieked as she clung to my neck and the air hit her face, warping her cheeks.

—Oh, sorry, Paimon! —I said, giving her a quick, amused look.

—Don't get distracted! —Jean reprimanded us from her own wind current, maintaining discipline even in the middle of an aerial battle.

—I just don't have control over where those bullets will appear, so you’ll have to identify them yourself —Venti warned with a nervous giggle.

—Paimon knew you weren't that good! —Paimon complained, burying her face in my back again.

Dvalin guided us through a sort of sea of clouds, leading us directly to what seemed to be his own domain, a space suspended in the sky where the storm roared with greater force. As soon as he flew over the central platform, I stopped invoking the gust that kept us in the air, and we landed heavily on the ancient stone.

—With the help of the world’s greatest bard, we are now on equal footing with Dvalin —I said, landing with a pirouette and smiling with total confidence, as if we weren't thousands of meters high facing a furious dragon.

—This is no time for this, you Hack Bard! —Paimon shrieked, regaining her balance and pouting while trying to get her heart back into its proper place.

Dvalin landed in front of us, causing the platform to shake violently. He rose onto his legs, roaring with a power that would have deafened anyone.

—Even after hundreds of years without using them, Dvalin’s teeth and claws remain very dangerous —I commented casually, just before leaping sideways to dodge a claw swipe that pulverized the floor where I had been a second ago.

—THIS IS NOT THE TIME TO SAY THAT! —Paimon shouted, now much more frightened, floating frantically from side to side to avoid being crushed.

—Venti! —_______ exclaimed, visibly angry but maintaining her focus—. Stop scaring Paimon!

She dodged Dvalin’s next attack with impeccable elegance, rolling on the ground and ending up in a combat stance. I noticed that, despite her scolding, her gaze was fixed on the blood clot glowing on the dragon’s nape.

—Hehe! I just wanted to keep spirits high —I replied, drawing my bowstring—. But you’re right, _______. Master Diluc, Jean! It’s now or never! If we can get him to lower his head, you’ll be able to reach that wound.

Dvalin prepared to unleash a breath of Anemo energy that would cover the entire platform, forcing us to move constantly.

The ground, already unstable, finally gave way beneath our feet. The ruins of what was once a great civilization crumbled, turning into dust and debris that fell alongside us toward the abyss.

—This place is collapsing! —Paimon screamed, her voice lost amid the roar of breaking stones.

Unlike the others, who struggled to cling to something, I simply let go. I closed my eyes and spread my arms, feeling the cold, violent air caress my face. There was no fear, only a deep peace I hadn't felt in centuries. I knew the wind always answers my call, but this time, it wasn't I who invoked it.

I felt firm, warm pressure beneath my back. Dvalin had caught us all in mid-flight, saving us from a deadly fall. I opened my eyes and stroked his scales, which were now glowing again with that pure blue I missed so much.

—Hehe, it’s been a while since we flew together like this —I said, letting nostalgia flood my voice as I smiled—. Right, Dvalin?

—Right now... why? —he asked, and his voice resonated in my mind, heavy and confused—. Why didn't you ask me to protect you like last time?

I settled onto his back, looking toward the horizon where the sun was beginning to break through the dissipating toxic clouds.

—Just because I don't want you obeying the Abyss Order —I replied, closing my eyes peacefully— doesn't mean you have to obey me. Freedom, if it is ordered by an Archon, is not freedom at all.

I summoned a small sphere of pure Anemo energy, an essence of my own being, and let it be absorbed by him, healing the last traces of pain in his soul.

—Is this the power of the Anemo Archon? —Dvalin whispered, surprised to feel the warmth of the wind running through his veins—. But I am no longer one of the Four Winds.

—Even if you aren't —I smiled, watching as _______, Jean, and Diluc marveled at the landscape— you protected us anyway. Now, spread your wings of freedom and fly with my blessings, my friend.

I leaned back a little more, letting the breeze shake my cape and braids. The weight I had carried in my chest for so long had finally disappeared. Mondstadt was safe, Dvalin was free, and I... well, I was just a bard who had just lived an adventure worthy of being sung about.

—How nostalgic this feels... —I murmured to myself as we flew back home under the clear sky.

Barely a day had passed since Dvalin’s wings had cleared the black clouds over Mondstadt. The sun shone with renewed intensity, as if the city itself were breathing a sigh of relief. _______ and Paimon were walking back from the Dawn Winery, enjoying the peace of the road, when a familiar red figure jumped out to meet them near the city gates.

—Wow, it’s you two! The Honorary Knight returns triumphant! —Amber exclaimed with an energy that seemed capable of lighting up the entire street.

—Hehe! _______ gave that Dvalin what he deserved —Paimon boasted, floating a little higher and puffing out her chest with comic pride.

—Oh! You’re giving me too much credit —_______ laughed softly, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks from the constant praise.

—Did you return yesterday? Jean came back to Mondstadt before you did and told everyone about your exploits —Amber continued, letting out a dramatic sigh—. When will my moment to shine arrive?

—Uh! Don't sell yourself short, Amber. None of this would have happened if you hadn't recommended me —_______ reminded her with a sincere smile, trying to cheer up her first friend in these lands.

—No way! You deserve all the credit for having resolved the crisis —Amber denied with a shake of her head, blushing slightly—. I just brought you to Mondstadt as part of my duty as an Outrider.

—It was nothing. By the way, were you waiting for us? —Paimon asked curiously.

—Of course not! Just because I didn't fight with you doesn't mean I don't have work to do... In fact, I’m dealing with the repercussions of the crisis right now —the scout replied, regaining her professional tone.

—As expected of the best Outrider —_______ commented, making Amber feel even more flattered.

—Repercussions? What happened in Mondstadt? —Paimon asked, whose concern always appeared when a new problem was mentioned.

Amber became serious and explained how, taking advantage of Jean’s absence, the monsters had launched a coordinated attack. She mentioned the strange behavior of the Hilichurls, something _______ and Paimon had already noticed in Springvale and Wolvendom. The shadow of the Abyss Order was still lurking, a reality that cast a shadow over the moment for a second.

—Oh, I’m sorry. You should be celebrating your victory, and here I am talking about such worrying things —Amber apologized, lowering her gaze.

—Not at all, Amber. It’s good to express yourself —_______ said, reaching out to gently stroke Amber’s head, as one would a little sister.

—Hm... —Amber tried to hide her embarrassment at being treated so affectionately, clearing her throat to change the subject—. I promised to take you for some Sticky Honey Roast, right?! It was before we dealt with the Stormterror crisis... There is no better time than now! Are you hungry?

—Yahoo! Even if you had forgotten, Paimon hasn't stopped thinking about that this whole time! —screamed the little guide, whose stomach seemed to roar in perfect sync.

—Great, let’s go! It’s been a long time since I last ate Sticky Honey Roast —Amber concluded, regaining her usual sparkle.

—But first, I must finish with this mess. See you at Good Hunter! —Amber said, adjusting her gloves and casting a determined glance toward the outskirts, where remnants of the attack’s logistics still remained.

—All right, don't push yourself too hard, Amber —_______ responded with a soft smile, watching as the scout hurried away with her characteristic red bow fluttering in the wind.

It wasn't long until Amber finally arrived at Good Hunter, dusting a little dirt off her uniform but wearing the satisfaction of a duty fulfilled. She sat down with them, and after enjoying a few bites of the delicious Sticky Honey Roast, the conversation took a more serious turn.

—Now that the dragon threat has come to an end, do you have any plans? —Amber asked, looking at _______ and Paimon with curiosity and a trace of anticipated nostalgia.

—Paimon thinks it’s time to leave Mondstadt and continue our journey through the Seven Nations to look for clues about your sibling —Paimon replied, becoming unusually thoughtful as she toyed with a piece of honeyed carrot.

—I see... So, it’s time to say goodbye... for now —Amber said, lowering her gaze. Her shoulders slumped slightly, and the sparkle in her eyes dimmed a little at the thought of seeing her first "Honorary Knight" depart.

—Amber... don't be sad —_______ said in a soft voice, placing a hand on the scout's arm to comfort her—. I’m sure that if the wind wills it, we will meet again. Besides, who said we won't stay in touch? —she added with a reassuring smile.

—Paimon agrees! We would never stop talking to you! —the little guide exclaimed, nodding forcefully in the air.

Amber looked up, processed their words, and after a second, shook her head to cast away the melancholy. A wide, brave smile lit up her face once more.

—You're right! —Amber exclaimed with renewed spirit—. Agreed! You will always be welcome in Mondstadt! Remember that you have a home here!

—You don't have to tell Paimon that twice! —Paimon laughed.

The meal continued amid laughter, but in the midst of the joy, _______ noticed a familiar breeze blowing from the cathedral plaza. Venti was watching them from a distance with his lyre in hand.

—Ehe... it seems the wind and the course will change. I hope the wind guides you well, my friend —Venti said, smiling as he fixed his gaze on the sky, which was beginning to be tinged with golden and violet hues.

When they finally finished eating, satisfaction was written on everyone's faces. Paimon was the first to break the post-banquet silence, floating heavily and patting her little belly.

—"Phew, how delicious! Paimon will make a mental note: Amber's recommendations are worth the wait!" she said cheerfully, her energy renewed thanks to the honeyed sugar.

—"Of course! I may not be much of a cook myself, but I have a great palate!" Amber replied with an infectious laugh, though her expression immediately changed to one of realization. "Oh, I almost forgot! Acting Grand Master Jean is waiting for you at the Cathedral. She mentioned something about the Holy Lyre... You’d better hurry."

—"Oh? Thanks for telling us, Amber," _______ replied with a sweet smile, rising from her seat and brushing the travel crumbs off. She knew the matter of the Lyre was delicate; after all, they had technically "borrowed" it under somewhat questionable circumstances.

—"No problem! See you later!" Amber said goodbye, waving her hand as she watched them depart.

The walk to the upper part of the city was quiet. Upon arriving in front of the massive Cathedral doors, the air felt cooler and more solemn. As they entered, the sunset light filtered through the stained glass, creating a mosaic of colors on the marble floor. There, next to the altar, Jean waited with her usual upright posture, but this time she was accompanied by a figure _______ recognized immediately: Venti, who looked suspiciously innocent.

—"This is Barbara, the Deaconess of the Cathedral. She has come to collect Der Himmel, the Holy Lyre," Jean said, making a brief introduction with her usual elegance.

—"May the Anemo Archon protect you," Barbara greeted, bowing slightly and devoutly. "I am not in a position to speak like the Acting Grand Master, but... even so, I would like to thank you on behalf of Mondstadt for your help!" She looked at all of them with shining eyes. "Fortunately, everything was resolved peacefully... I don't want to imagine how a war between the army and the dragon would have ended."

—"Now the Fatui won't be able to reproach us for anything," Jean added with a sigh of relief, although her tone denoted justified pride. "They must be disappointed that things didn't turn out the way they expected. They no longer have an excuse to pressure the Knights of Favonius so much. They didn't gain anything from a diplomatic standpoint, and they’ve only shown how detestable they are."

—"What a story! Anyway, did you bring the Holy Lyre?" Barbara asked, changing her tone to one a bit more desperate. "We can't ask you to keep protecting the lyre forever. The Steward has been pressuring me for a long time, and I’m a bit nervous."

—"Well... we had it with us, it’s just that... it’s a little..." Paimon began to fidget with her fingers in the air, trying to find the right words to describe the disaster.

—"Don't worry! I didn't come here to ask for money!" Barbara exclaimed quickly, trying to calm us with an innocent smile. "The Church has always had special funding for repairs and maintenance."

—"Well, that’s not the problem, Barbara. We had a little accident..." I said, scratching the back of my neck and smiling a bit nervously while exchanging a complicit look with Venti.

Barbara blinked, confused, and before she could ask any more, Venti stepped forward with a confidence that scared me. He pulled out the lyre, which at that moment looked dull, stringless, and practically in ruins.

—"AAAHHHH!!! THE HOLY LYRE!!" Barbara's scream was so sharp that I swear the cathedral glass vibrated. "It’s... it’s dead! Barbatos is going to punish me!"

—Oh, Lord Barbatos... Even if I were to atone for these sins for the rest of my life... —Barbara said, clasping her hands so tightly that her knuckles were white—. It would not be enough. The Church will never forgive me for this!

Venti, who until now had only been observing the scene with one eyebrow raised, let out a long sigh, half-amused and half-resigned. He looked at me out of the corner of his eye with a spark of mischief in his green eyes.

—Sighs Give me the lyre for a moment —Venti said, extending his hands toward me.

—Oh? Er... alright —I replied, handing him the battered instrument carefully, wondering what this hack bard had planned to get out of this jam.

I watched as Venti began to surround the lyre with a soft but vibrant Anemo ability. The air around us turned warm and began to smell of fresh cecilias. A turquoise light enveloped the splintered wood and the broken strings, hiding the damage beneath a heavenly glow.

— ¡Tachán!

Barbara stood petrified, staring at the lyre that now looked impeccable in the bard's hands.

—"The Holy Lyre... but how?" Barbara said, completely surprised, accepting the instrument with a mixture of devotion and bewilderment.

—"Hey! Paimon wants to see it closer..." Paimon blurted out, floating over with curiosity and stretching out her little hands to inspect the "miracle."

—"No, no!" Barbara reacted immediately, clutching the lyre to her chest with protective force. "I don't know how you managed to fix it, but this is the last time you touch the Holy Lyre!"

With a gesture of indignation and her cheeks slightly puffed, Barbara turned around and retreated at a fast pace toward the interior of the Cathedral, making sure that no one else laid a finger on the relic.

Venti let out a nervous chuckle and gave me a desperate signal with his hand.

—"Well, I think we should get out of here!" Venti said, letting out a nervous laugh while scratching the back of his neck. "The trick I used to repair the lyre won't last forever... Ehe! No, it definitely won't last forever."

The silence that followed was sepulchral, but it only lasted a second before the reality hit us all in the face.

—"WHAT?!" Paimon, Jean, and I shouted in unison, making the echo resound against the sacred walls of the Cathedral.

Before Jean could process the gravity of the situation or Barbara could turn around, I saw Venti bolt toward the large double doors with an agility that only a god of flight could possess.

—"You hack bard! Come back here and fix that for real!" Paimon shrieked, red with rage, shooting after him like a small, floating projectile.

—"I'm sorry, Jean! We'll explain later!" I shouted over my shoulder as I took off running, trying to catch up to that pair before they got into any more trouble.

—"Wait! You can't leave me here with this!" I managed to hear Jean’s desperate shout, whose Acting Grand Master composure was crumbling by the moment at the thought of explaining to Barbara why the lyre was about to break all over again.

The atmosphere in the Cathedral plaza shifted from comedic to lethal in the blink of an eye. While the echo of Venti's laughter still vibrated in the air, destiny decided to collect on his mischief.

Two figures wrapped in dark Fatui uniforms burst from the shadows like hungry specters. Their movements were precise, coordinated, and lethal, lunging directly at the bard, who in that moment seemed more vulnerable than ever. However, they hadn't counted on the reflexes of the young woman accompanying him.

—Watch out! —exclaimed _______, her voice cutting through the air with the same force as her power.

Before the soldiers' blades could graze Venti's green clothes, _______ unleashed a gust of Anemo energy. The wind roared, expanding into a shockwave that struck the attackers' chests and forced them back several meters, their boots screeching against the plaza's stone floor.

Venti, who had frozen for a second, blinked in astonishment.

—Thank you, _______ —he whispered, his heart still beating a thousand miles an hour.

—Stay behind me —she commanded without hesitation.

With a fluid motion, _______ placed herself between the danger and the bard. Her stance was firm, her eyes fixed on the enemies, and her hand remained extended, ready to summon the wind once more. Paimon, terrified, cowered behind her shoulder, peeking out with only one eye.

The sound was sharp, like the crack of a glacier splitting in half. Before they could react, a whirlwind of frost and polar wind enveloped them, clouding their vision and chilling them to the bone.

Venti, reacting instinctively, summoned a current of emerald air to dispel the blizzard, but the cold was too dense.

—Ahg... —Venti groaned, lowering his gaze in horror. The ice had climbed up his boots, anchoring him to the plaza floor. No matter how hard he tried to summon the wind, his legs wouldn't respond. —Uh?

—Venti! —_______ screamed, lunging toward him without a second thought.

But she didn't make it. The two Fatui soldiers, fast as wolves, intercepted her halfway. With brute force, they tackled her and pinned her against the cold pavement.

—Mm! —_______ let out a gasp of pain as the weight of the soldiers pressed her against the ground, scraping her arms against the stone.

—_______! —Venti shouted her name, anguish reflected in his green eyes.

Suddenly, the bard felt an icy and oppressive presence behind him. An aura of power so ancient and cold that it made the air in his lungs ache. He turned his head quickly, meeting a figure that exuded a lethal elegance.

— "Finally! The king of Mondstadt's rats in person!" declared the unknown lady, her voice dripping with absolute contempt.

She walked with a slow, steady pace, flanked by two Fatui mages with their catalysts at the ready. The woman's veil fluttered slightly, and her eyes, cold as permafrost, locked onto Venti with a mixture of mockery and victory.

_______ struggled desperately to break free from the soldiers' grip, watching helplessly as the stranger approached the defenseless bard.

The woman, whose elegance was surpassed only by her cruelty, watched Venti as if he were an insect beneath her boot. With a gesture loaded with disdain, she grabbed the bard's chin with her gloved fingers, forcing him to hold her gaze.

— "Prowling the streets, looking for scraps of food..." she said, sketching a smile of superiority as she wrinkled her nose in disgust. "It must be a shame that the people call you 'god'."

The woman's voice dripped with poison, a mixture of ancient hatred and contained rage. Venti, despite having his legs chained by ice and feeling the pressure of the Harbinger's power, did not look away. His green eyes shone with a glimmer of rebellion.

— "Better a local rat than an invading parasite," Venti retorted, his voice firm despite the situation.

The sound of the impact was dry and violent. The woman slapped him so hard that Venti's head snapped sharply to the side.

— "Venti!" _______ screamed, her heart sinking with anguish.

In a fit of desperation, _______'s energy reacted to her emotions. Without planning it, an Anemo shockwave erupted from her body, causing the soldiers holding her to lose their balance for an instant. However, before she could stand up, the freezing pressure in the air increased, pinning her to the ground.

— "You dare speak to me like that, insolent bard?" hissed the lady, whose patience seemed to have run out.

Venti did not stay silent. An aura of emerald wind began to swirl around him, ruffling his braids and cape. His eyes emitted a divine glow, showing for a second the power of the Archon residing within him. He looked at the woman with a seriousness that chilled the blood.

— "Look at you, the absent Archon of Mondstadt..." she continued, showing not a hint of fear before Venti's power. "You have become insignificant."

The tension in the plaza reached its breaking point. Venti, despite being cornered and with his face burning from the blow, let out a defiant giggle that echoed against the walls of the Cathedral.

— "Are you mocking me?" Venti said with a dangerously amused tone. "Did you borrow your mistress's powers to feel like someone?" he delivered the taunt with a biting smile, wounding the Harbinger's pride.

The woman's face contorted into a grimace of absolute fury. The Cryo energy around her exploded, freezing the air instantly. With a sharp flick of her hand, she unleashed a frigid shockwave that pushed Venti, making him stagger.

— "You should watch your mouth," she hissed, raising her frost-wrapped hand to strike a definitive blow.

However, she did not count on the traveler's unbreakable will. Taking advantage of the moment the woman's attention was fixed on Venti, _______ concentrated all her energy into her limbs. With a burst of wind, she managed to break free from the Fatui soldiers' grip. In a swift, acrobatic move, she grabbed Venti by his cape and leaped backward, pulling him out of reach of the ice attack at the last second.

— "What is this?" the woman asked with a mocking laugh, observing the scene with annoyance. "A rat trying to save another?"

_______ stood her ground, landing firmly in front of Venti. Her eyes shone with fierce determination and her sword, imbued with an Anemo whirlwind, emitted a threatening hum.

— "I won't let you touch this bard," _______ declared. Wind energy surrounded her body like invisible armor, ready to face whatever was necessary.

— "Interesting, but you remain very weak," the woman stated with cutting coldness.

Before _______ could turn, the mages discharged a blast of Electro energy directly onto her back.

— "Ah!" the woman's cry was dry and laden with pain. The electric shock coursed through her body, numbing her muscles and clouding her vision instantly.

However, in a final act of pure will and sacrifice, _______ used the last impulse of her Anemo energy to push Venti with force, launching him far from the epicenter of the attack to put him out of the Harbinger's reach. Her eyes closed as her body hit the ground, falling unconscious instantly.

— "_______!" Venti’s scream tore through the air.

The bard flew through the air, watching in horror as his friend's figure lay motionless under the shadow of La Signora. Venti landed roughly several meters away, struggling to rise, but the ice on his legs and the shock of seeing his friend unconscious weakened him.

La Signora ignored the traveler's unconscious body, stepping over her with total indifference, and fixed her eyes on Venti, who was now completely defenseless.

— "Game over," said the Harbinger, extending her hand toward the bard's chest, where a turquoise light began to throb with force.

The silence that followed the cracking of ice was terrifying. La Signora, with surgical violence, plunged her hand into Venti's chest and extracted a radiant object that pulsed with pure celestial energy: the Anemo Gnosis.

— "Is this the Gnosis?" commented La Signora, holding it between her gloved fingers with a mixture of curiosity and disgust. "Ha! I wouldn't want to die carrying such an ugly thing."

Venti, breathing with difficulty and leaning against the frozen ground, did not lose his spark despite the agonizing pain of having his connection to Celestia torn away.

— "Could it be because you have bad taste?" he retorted, letting out a breathless giggle that infuriated the Harbinger.

La Signora, without a word, delivered a brutal kick that left him lying on the ground. She adjusted her coat collar and looked at her subordinates with indifference.

— "We have what we came for. Let's go," the woman ordered, beginning to walk with a firm step. As she passed by the traveler's motionless body, she stopped for just a second. "Mm... I will report this to His Highness. Besides, I would not like to encounter the Knights of Favonius."

With a flash of frost and a gust of snow, the Fatui disappeared from the plaza as quickly as they had arrived, leaving behind only the cold and the trail of battle.

Next Part

Previous part:

Night enveloped the Cathedral in a deathly silence, broken only by the distant echo of my own footsteps. Never, even in my strangest dreams, did I imagine I would end up committing a sacrilegious theft. As I dodged guards and created small distractions with the wind, I couldn't avoid a fleeting thought: “If my children could see me now... how humiliating it would be to explain this.” I shook my head to regain focus; this was no time for an identity crisis.

We reached the altar where the Lyre rested, but fate had a bitter surprise in store for us. A woman with feline movements, dressed in shades of purple and wearing a mask that hid her face, beat us to it. With supernatural speed, she took Der Himmel and vanished into the shadows before our eyes.

—Intruders! —a guard shouted upon seeing us at the empty altar.

—Run! —I exclaimed, grabbing Paimon by the arm.

I channeled my Anemo energy and provoked a violent blizzard that struck the doors and momentarily blinded the guards. We burst out into the cold night air, where Venti waited for us, sitting with a calm that I found exasperating given the circumstances.

—They found us! We have to run! —Paimon shrieked, her heart in her throat.

Venti changed his expression to one of total seriousness in a second. He nodded, his eyes glowing in the darkness.

—What? Follow me, quickly! —he ordered, leaping toward the rooftops.

Venti used gusts of wind to propel us, flying through the shadows of Mondstadt until we landed in front of a tavern that smelled of old wood and wine: Angel’s Share. We entered clumsily.

Inside, the atmosphere was tense. A man was handing reports to a young man with fire-red hair and an icy gaze.

—Master Diluc, these are this week's earnings —the employee said.

—Hmm... the Stormterror disaster has affected the business far too much —the redhead replied, crossing his arms with a heavy sigh.

—Hello... —Venti interrupted, trying to sound casual despite being out of breath—. We would like to sit... at your most discreet table, please.

Diluc swept over us with an analytical gaze that seemed to read our souls. He didn't ask unnecessary questions.

—There are fewer customers on the second floor —he replied in a dry voice—. You will raise less suspicion there.

Venti and I nodded in unison, as if synchronized by the adrenaline, and hurried up the stairs. Barely had we hidden in the shadows of the upper floor when the sound of clashing armor announced the arrival of the Knights of Favonius at the tavern entrance.

From the second-floor railing, we watched the scene, holding our breath. Diluc maintained an impeccable posture; his mere presence filled the tavern with a natural authority that made the guards look small.

—What’s happening? Why all the movement of guards at this hour? —Diluc asked, with that deep, icy voice that seemed to chill the air in the room.

—Master Diluc! Haven’t you heard? —exclaimed one of the guards, sweating under his helmet—. Two thieves have stolen the Holy Lyre!

—Really? How strange... —Diluc responded, fixing his serious gaze on them.

—Indeed! The Lyre is a treasure touched by Barbatos himself! A cultural heritage of incalculable value —added the other guard, on the verge of a panic attack.

—And why would someone want to steal something they can’t sell on the open market? —Diluc retorted, unperturbed—. They would make more profit if they stole the bottles from my cellars.

The guards exchanged a look of pure terror at the very idea that someone would dare rob the owner of the most important vineyard in the region. Diluc let out a dry sigh.

—I’ve gotten off-topic, my apologies. I thought I saw two figures running toward the city’s side wall a moment ago —he pointed with a vague gesture in the opposite direction to where we were.

—Thank you very much, Master Diluc! —both guards gave a hurried military salute and bolted out of the tavern.

We waited a few seconds until the sound of their armor faded into the distance. Venti and I emerged from the shadows and walked down the wooden stairs, which creaked under my feet. Venti, recovering his usual audacity, approached the counter with a hungry look.

—Let’s see, I think I’ll have a glass of... —he began to say, his hand sliding toward an expensive-looking bottle.

—Put that bottle you just stole from the counter back —Diluc stated without even looking at him, arms crossed.

—...something cold —Venti corrected with a smile of absolute innocence, leaving the bottle in its place.

I stopped beside him, maintaining my elegant bearing despite the run. I looked Diluc in the eyes; his expression was that of someone who already knew we weren’t simple relic thieves.

—Very well —Diluc said, tapping his fingers gently on the counter—. I’ve given you time, but now you have to answer my questions.

—Let me finish drinking first, and I promise to pay you back with a performance —Venti said, giving Diluc a carefree smile, as if we hadn't just fled from the entire city guard.

Diluc wasn't impressed. He observed him from head to toe with a mixture of disdain and pragmatism.

—The problem isn't the money —Diluc replied in an icy voice—. You look too young to be drinking in my establishment.

—Oh, don't worry about that! When I started drinking, you were barely...

Before Venti could finish the sentence and reveal that he is likely older than the very foundations of Mondstadt, I reacted. With a quick and firm movement, I covered his mouth with my hand, silencing his words. I looked at Diluc with absolute calm and a smile that radiated impeccable courtesy.

—My apologies, young man. It is poor manners not to introduce oneself first before demanding answers —I said softly, finally uncovering the mouth of a somewhat indignant Venti.

—Eh?... ______, you really don't know him? —Venti whispered, looking at me with genuine confusion.

—No, not at all. I wouldn't be asking if I knew who he was —I replied, before refocusing my attention on the redhead. I looked him over, analyzing his posture and that aura of contained fire surrounding him—. Although... your presence is familiar. Weren't you at the abandoned temple a few days ago?

Diluc uncrossed his arms, maintaining that intense eye contact that would intimidate anyone who didn't have the experience of a Traveler.

—Yes, that’s right —he admitted in a dry voice—. I am Diluc, owner of this tavern and the Dawn Winery.

—A pleasure, young Diluc. I am ______ —I gave a slight nod, maintaining my distinguished bearing—. Though I suspect you have already heard my name from my indiscreet companion —I added, casting a warning glance at Venti.

Diluc tapped the counter with his fingers, evaluating us.

—I have heard of you, "Star of the Knights." But what interests me is not your fame, but why the heroine of Mondstadt and a two-bit bard are fleeing from the cathedral in the middle of the night.

—Please, do not refer to him that way. I would prefer you call him simply a bard, or Venti —I intervened, maintaining a soft smile but with a tone that left no room for reply. My loyalty was with the boy beside me, no matter how many titles the man in front of us held.

Diluc raised an eyebrow, surprised by the firmness with which I defended a bard who had just tried to steal a bottle from him, but he nodded slightly in sign of respect.

—Surely you want to know about the Holy Lyre —I continued, trying to regain tranquility in my explanation—. Well, I have to tell you that it wasn't us who took it. Someone else beat us to it at the last second...

I paused abruptly, realizing my own words. My eyes widened a little, and I felt a slight heat on my cheeks as I noticed the logical error.

—Wait... that sounded bad —I added, visibly concerned and embarrassed—. What I mean is that... we were going to... well, the intention was something else! But a woman in a mask and purple robes snatched it before we could even touch it.

Paimon covered her face with her little hands, ashamed, while Venti let out a nervous giggle behind me. Diluc, for his part, let out a heavy sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose, as if trying to process the involuntary confession he had just heard.

—So... —Diluc said in a monotonous voice—, your defense is that you attempted to steal it, but someone else was more efficient than you.

An awkward silence filled the tavern. Diluc stared at us fixedly for a few seconds that felt eternal, until his expression finally softened a bit, becoming more analytical than accusatory.

—Setting aside who has it now... Why would two people like you want to steal the Holy Lyre in the first place? —Diluc asked, crossing his arms and distributing an inquiring look between Venti, Paimon, and me.

Venti wasn't intimidated by the redhead's sharp tone. On the contrary, his eyes shone with that mischievous light that only appears when he is about to do something extraordinary.

—If I tell the story like a bard’s performance... would you believe me, Master Diluc? —Venti asked with a challenging smile.

—Depends. I will be the one to judge —Diluc responded seriously, not looking away—. I will pay you anywhere from five Mora to the Holy Lyre itself, depending on how credible and valuable your story is.

Venti let out a clean, confident laugh. He stood up, adjusting his hat, and the air around us seemed to become lighter, charged with an ancient and comforting energy.

—Very well. Then get ready, I will give you quite a show! —he exclaimed happily.

In a flash of turquoise particles, he summoned his lyre. I stood to the side, watching his posture change; he was no longer the mischievous boy stealing bottles, but a narrator of legends. Paimon approached me, floating in silence, while Diluc leaned against the counter with an impassive expression, ready to hear the truth disguised as a song.

Venti brushed the strings, and a soft melody, like the whisper of the leaves at Windrise, began to fill the tavern. He was going to tell the story of Dvalin, of loneliness, and of the corrupt blood... and I knew that, through his voice, Diluc would understand why we had risked so much.

Venti finished playing the last note, letting the echo of Dvalin's story fade away among the wine bottles and wooden beams. I remained seated in silence, watching the candlelight dance in Diluc’s eyes.

—What you just told... —Diluc broke the silence, with a seriousness that weighed in the air— is confidential information. Why trust something like this to a simple tavern keeper?

—Why? Perhaps because the winds are changing, Master Diluc —Venti responded with an enigmatic smile—. What do you think? Is this a story worth supporting?

Diluc remained thoughtful for a moment, processing the magnitude of the dragon’s tragedy.

—Interesting... Give me some time. I have some contacts who could be useful in locating that lyre —he finally responded, before directing his gaze toward me—. Outlander, as a member of the Knights, you are not a suspect for now. Although the wanted posters are already circulating, the only description is that the thief has blonde hair.

—Young Diluc, just call me ______, please —I responded calmly, maintaining my elegance—. Since you are helping us, I think we can set formalities aside.

—As you wish, ______ —he nodded, before pointing at Venti with his finger—. As for you, bard... you had better not poke your nose outside of here. You will stay in the tavern where I can keep an eye on you.

—No problem! I love taverns; it’s like a paradise to me —Venti exclaimed with an almost childish joy.

I couldn't help but let out a soft laugh. I approached him and gave him a gentle pat on the head, like correcting a little troublemaker who doesn't understand the gravity of being a fugitive.

—Venti... you are definitely like a child —I said in an amused tone.

—Eh?! But I...! —Venti protested, puffing out his cheeks with indignation, which only made him look younger and cuter.

—Fine —Diluc interrupted, hiding a slight grimace that almost looked like a smile at our dynamic—. We will see each other here after the tavern closes. Don't be late.

—Agreed. Once again, thank you very much for helping us, young Diluc —I said goodbye, giving him a soft smile with my eyes closed, grateful to have found such a capable ally in the middle of this storm.

Diluc allowed us to rest in the upper rooms of the tavern. I must admit that the young master of the vineyards fascinates me; he tries so hard to hide his emotions behind that icy mask, but his eyes, always vigilant and somewhat tired, betray him. It is a quality that I find almost... adorable, in the noblest sense of the word.

Paimon fell asleep the moment her head hit the sheets, but my mind was too restless for sleep. I went out to walk in silence through the cobblestone streets. Mondstadt at night is different; the streetlamp lights give it an ancient fairytale air, an atmosphere of peace that invites reflection.

I sat on the edge of one of the fountains, feeling the cool dew in the air, and raised my gaze toward the infinite firmament.

—Such nostalgic memories... —I whispered to myself, with a soft laugh heavy with melancholy—. My children... may the stars guide you wisely and may you never forget that I love you with all my heart.

I closed my eyes for a moment, carrying a hand to my chest, feeling the constant heartbeat of my own story. After a long sigh, I perceived a familiar presence, a shadow moving with the precision of someone who knows every corner of this city.

—Young Diluc, please, come out of your hiding place —I said without turning around, keeping my eyes on the sky—. I can feel your presence from here.

I heard a faint creaking of boots on stone and, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Diluc emerge from the shadows of a nearby column.

—I apologize for being intrusive, Madam ______ —he said, approaching to stand by my side, maintaining a respectful distance—. I found it strange to see you out here so late.

—Haha, I should say the same to you, young man —I replied, giving him a quick look before returning to the stars—. I am just here to admire the sky. You should also be resting; sleep is good for your health, even for someone as strong as you.

—I will be fine —he replied, crossing his arms while he too raised his gaze toward the starry mantle—. I was just guarding the capital. Someone has to do it when the others sleep.

—You still must rest; if you push yourself that hard, you will end up sick —I let out a soft laugh, charged with a tenderness that seemed to disarm his rigidity—. Don't take it the wrong way; it’s just that I speak as the mother that I am... one who is searching for her children lost long ago.

Diluc visibly tensed and, for the first time, he looked at me with absolute attention, setting aside his vigilance.

—You have children? —he asked, with a note of surprise in his deep voice—. How did you lose them?

—Actually... we were separated —I responded, and I felt the pressure in my chest increase as I pressed my hand against it—. It’s been so long since I’ve heard anything of them, and that is what worries me the most. Sometimes I feel like I’ve slept for eons, and other times I feel like there is something vital that I cannot remember... —I laughed softly, trying to dispel the fog of sadness that was beginning to surround us.

—I see... I am sorry I asked —Diluc said. I could notice in his tone a genuine concern, a glimmer of empathy that he rarely showed to strangers.

—No, it is not your fault. It is normal to be curious —I reassured him with a kind gesture—. I understand that it is strange for people to imagine that I have children. But you know, young Diluc... if you ever fear remembering the past, look at the stars. Reflect on whether it is truly worth fearing what has already been. Because, even if everyone tries to show otherwise, we all carry scars inside. If we avoid them, we will end up stagnant in the same place forever.

I stood up with the elegance that characterized me and walked over to him. I gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder, a brief gesture but one charged with a maternal and protective weight.

—Goodnight, young Diluc. May the stars guide you —I said, before turning around and walking with a calm stride back to the tavern, where Paimon was waiting for me, lost in her dreams.

Diluc remained there, motionless. He stood in silence while he watched my figure disappear into the gloom of the entrance. He brought his hand to his shoulder, right where I had touched him, still feeling the trace of that unusual warmth.

We walked under the morning sun, which bathed the streets of Mondstadt in a fresh, golden light. Paimon floated by my side, stretching lazily after her long sleep. Upon arriving at the central plaza, we stopped in front of the alchemy table.

—Oh? It seems Timaeus isn't here today —Paimon remarked, scratching her cheek—. How strange. He is always here, muttering things about transmutations.

At that moment, a young woman with mint-colored hair, wearing glasses that gave her an intellectual air and an impeccable blue uniform, approached us with short, hesitant steps. Paimon and I greeted her cordially, which seemed to startle her a little.

—Eh... Excuse me, are you looking for Timaeus? —she asked, nervously playing with her fingers and lowering her gaze.

—No, no! —Paimon replied, waving her hands. —It’s just a bit strange that he isn't around. Paimon always sees him standing there, like he’s part of the furniture.

—I see... —The girl let out a sigh of relief, though she continued to scratch her head shyly. —Master Albedo called for him a few moments ago to help with some samples at the camp, and they asked me to look after the shop in his absence.

I observed her with curiosity. There was something in her aura that reminded me of pure dedication, even if her shyness was nearly extreme.

—It’s a pleasure. I am ______, and this is Paimon —I said in my kindest tone to try and soothe her nerves.

—My name is Sucrose, and I am Albedo’s assistant —she introduced herself, performing a bow so rigid that I feared for a moment her glasses might fall to the ground. —If you have questions related to alchemy, you can ask me. I will do my best to... help you.

—It’s a pleasure, Sucrose. You don’t have to be so shy with me —I responded, letting out a sweet laugh that seemed to soften the mood. —You can call me ______ with total confidence.

—Wait... ______ and Paimon? —she repeated our names, blinking in surprise behind her lenses. —P-please excuse me, I don’t often go out. I’m usually in the laboratory, where there aren’t many people to talk to... My world is usually one of test tubes and bio-organisms.

—Don’t worry, we understand that perfectly —I told her, maintaining that warm smile that sought to give her security. —Sometimes, the silence of a laboratory is the best companion for a brilliant mind.

Sucrose seemed to relax visibly. Her shoulders dropped, and a small glimmer of gratitude appeared in her eyes.

—If you need help, call me. If not... I-I will be over there reading a book. Hm... —she added, pointing toward a corner shyly, now much calmer and less embarrassed by our presence.

—Hehe, thanks! Don’t worry, we are familiar with the principles of alchemy, right, ______? —Paimon exclaimed, putting on airs of importance while floating with her hands on her waist.

We left the safe walls of the capital behind, with the echo of Sucrose's words still resounding in our minds. The small bag of chocolates I handed her was a humble token of thanks for her sincerity; seeing her blush in that way reminded me why it is worth protecting the people of this nation.

—Sucrose is much less nervous when she starts talking about alchemy and research, right? Are all researchers like that? —Paimon asked, adjusting her small cape as the wind began to blow with more force.

—It could be, Paimon. I would say that she simply fears looking bad in front of others, but in my opinion, she is adorable —I laughed softly, although my expression became more serious upon noticing how the landscape was changing drastically before us.

—Eh... Disculpen, ¿están buscando a Timaeus? —preguntó ella, jugueteando nerviosamente con sus dedos y bajando la mirada.

—¡No, no! —respondió Paimon, agitando las manos—. Es solo que es un poco extraño que no esté por aquí. Paimon siempre lo ve ahí parado, como si fuera parte del mobiliario.

—Ya veo... —La chica soltó un suspiro de alivio, aunque seguía rascándose la cabeza con timidez—. El Maestro Albedo le llamó hace unos momentos para ayudar con unas muestras en el campamento, y me pidieron que cuidara la tienda en su ausencia.

La observé con curiosidad. Había algo en su aura que me recordaba a la dedicación pura, aunque su timidez fuera casi extrema.

—Es un placer. Soy ______, y ella es Paimon —dije con mi tono más amable para intentar calmar sus nervios—.

—Me llamo Sacarosa, y soy la asistente de Albedo —se presentó, haciendo una reverencia tan rígida que temí por un momento que sus gafas se cayeran al suelo—. Si tienen preguntas relacionadas con la alquimia, pueden preguntarme. Haré lo posible por... ayudarlos.

—Un placer, Sacarosa. No tienes que ser tan tímida conmigo —respondí, dejando escapar una risa dulce que pareció suavizar el ambiente—. Puedes decirme ______ con total confianza.

—¿Esperen... ______ y Paimon? —repitió nuestros nombres, parpadeando con sorpresa tras sus cristales—. D-disculpen, no suelo salir a menudo. Normalmente estoy en el laboratorio, donde no hay mucha gente con la cual conversar... Mi mundo suele ser el de las probetas y los bio-organismos.

—Tranquila, entendemos eso perfectamente —le dije, manteniendo esa sonrisa cálida que buscaba darle seguridad—. A veces, el silencio de un laboratorio es el mejor compañero para una mente brillante.

Sacarosa pareció relajarse visiblemente. Sus hombros bajaron y un pequeño brillo de gratitud apareció en sus ojos.

—Si necesitan ayuda, llámenme. Si no... e-estaré allá leyendo un libro. Hm... —añadió, señalando un rincón con timidez, ya mucho más tranquila y menos apenada por nuestra presencia.

—¡Jeje, gracias! No te preocupes, estamos familiarizados con los principios de la alquimia, ¿cierto, ______? —exclamó Paimon, dándose aires de importancia mientras flotaba con las manos en la cintura.

Dejamos atrás las seguras murallas de la capital, con el eco de las palabras de Sacarosa aún resonando en nuestras mentes. La pequeña bolsa de chocolates que le entregué fue un humilde agradecimiento por su sinceridad; verla sonrojarse de esa manera me recordó por qué vale la pena proteger a la gente de esta nación.

—Sacarosa está mucho menos nerviosa cuando comienza a hablar de alquimia e investigación, ¿cierto? ¿Todos los investigadores son así? —preguntó Paimon, ajustándose su pequeña capa mientras el viento empezaba a soplar con más fuerza.

—Puede ser, Paimon. Yo diría que ella simplemente teme verse mal ante los demás, pero en mi opinión, es adorable —reí suavemente, aunque mi expresión se volvió más seria al notar cómo el paisaje cambiaba drásticamente ante nosotras.

—Eh... Disculpen, ¿están buscando a Timaeus? —preguntó ella, jugueteando nerviosamente con sus dedos y bajando la mirada.

—¡No, no! —respondió Paimon, agitando las manos—. Es solo que es un poco extraño que no esté por aquí. Paimon siempre lo ve ahí parado, como si fuera parte del mobiliario.

—Ya veo... —La chica soltó un suspiro de alivio, aunque seguía rascándose la cabeza con timidez—. El Maestro Albedo le llamó hace unos momentos para ayudar con unas muestras en el campamento, y me pidieron que cuidara la tienda en su ausencia.

La observé con curiosidad. Había algo en su aura que me recordaba a la dedicación pura, aunque su timidez fuera casi extrema.

—Es un placer. Soy ______, y ella es Paimon —dije con mi tono más amable para intentar calmar sus nervios—.

—Me llamo Sacarosa, y soy la asistente de Albedo —se presentó, haciendo una reverencia tan rígida que temí por un momento que sus gafas se cayeran al suelo—. Si tienen preguntas relacionadas con la alquimia, pueden preguntarme. Haré lo posible por... ayudarlos.

—Un placer, Sacarosa. No tienes que ser tan tímida conmigo —respondí, dejando escapar una risa dulce que pareció suavizar el ambiente—. Puedes decirme ______ con total confianza.

—¿Esperen... ______ y Paimon? —repitió nuestros nombres, parpadeando con sorpresa tras sus cristales—. D-disculpen, no suelo salir a menudo. Normalmente estoy en el laboratorio, donde no hay mucha gente con la cual conversar... Mi mundo suele ser el de las probetas y los bio-organismos.

—Tranquila, entendemos eso perfectamente —le dije, manteniendo esa sonrisa cálida que buscaba darle seguridad—. A veces, el silencio de un laboratorio es el mejor compañero para una mente brillante.

Sacarosa pareció relajarse visiblemente. Sus hombros bajaron y un pequeño brillo de gratitud apareció en sus ojos.

—Si necesitan ayuda, llámenme. Si no... e-estaré allá leyendo un libro. Hm... —añadió, señalando un rincón con timidez, ya mucho más tranquila y menos apenada por nuestra presencia.

—¡Jeje, gracias! No te preocupes, estamos familiarizados con los principios de la alquimia, ¿cierto, ______? —exclamó Paimon, dándose aires de importancia mientras flotaba con las manos en la cintura.

Dejamos atrás las seguras murallas de la capital, con el eco de las palabras de Sacarosa aún resonando en nuestras mentes. La pequeña bolsa de chocolates que le entregué fue un humilde agradecimiento por su sinceridad; verla sonrojarse de esa manera me recordó por qué vale la pena proteger a la gente de esta nación.

—Sacarosa está mucho menos nerviosa cuando comienza a hablar de alquimia e investigación, ¿cierto? ¿Todos los investigadores son así? —preguntó Paimon, ajustándose su pequeña capa mientras el viento empezaba a soplar con más fuerza.

—Puede ser, Paimon. Yo diría que ella simplemente teme verse mal ante los demás, pero en mi opinión, es adorable —reí suavemente, aunque mi expresión se volvió más seria al notar cómo el paisaje cambiaba drásticamente ante nosotras.

The path toward Dragonspine felt like crossing a border into another world. The green of the Mondstadt meadows was quickly devoured by a blinding white and rocks covered in ancient frost that seemed never to melt. The air became heavy, icy—the kind of cold that seeps into the bones and makes breathing difficult.

—Brrr! Paimon's teeth are chattering! —my companion exclaimed, hiding behind my shoulder to protect herself from the snow gusts—. How can anyone live and work in such an inhospitable place?

I stopped for a moment at the entrance to the ascending path, observing the sharp peaks that defied the sky. I crossed my arms, feeling how the cold tried to penetrate my skin, but my determination remained intact.

—We must find a "refined scholar," according to Sucrose —I murmured, scanning the white horizon—. If Albedo is capable of finding answers in such a desolate place, he is definitely someone who deserves my respect and admiration for enduring this cold.

Paimon and I stopped dead in our tracks as we saw a nun dash out from the path, disappearing quickly into the snow; she wore an impeccable white habit and her blonde hair shone even under the grey sky of the mountain. We could only follow her with our eyes, confused by her haste, but when we turned, we ran into another nun who was the exact opposite.

She wore her own version of the nuns' habit, in dark tones and with a lethal air. I must admit, it was somewhat terrifying.

—Wow... it seems that nun knows how to convince others to believe whatever she says —Paimon commented, surprised, looking toward where the first one had gone.

—I thought I heard something. Who are you two and why are you eavesdropping? —said the terrifying nun, crossing her arms with a serious and icy expression.

—Watch out! She looks like a dangerous villain, or at least a con artist —Paimon whispered, scared, hiding a bit.

—Paimon... don't be rude —I scolded her, crossing my arms to maintain my posture before the stranger.

—Oh, really? I am a member of the Church of Favonius, a respected institution with a long history, and you are a floating fairy who listens to other people's conversations. And you think the dangerous one is me? —the nun replied in a cutting voice.

—She heard it! Paimon thought she was talking quietly... —my little friend shrieked, hiding behind me.

—Both of you, stop now; let's avoid unnecessary conflict —I intervened, staring fixedly at the nun—. I apologize, young lady. I am ______, and this is Paimon —I added, while gently stroking Paimon's head to calm her down—. We are sorry for having overheard your talk, miss.

—The Honorary Knight who saved us from Stormterror... —she murmured, relaxing the tension slightly—. Fine, due to your status, I will let it slide this time that you were eavesdropping. Otherwise, depending on what you say, I could have you arrested on the spot.

—What?! Now the nuns of Mondstadt have the authority to arrest people? —Paimon exclaimed, agitated.

—We cannot close our eyes to potential dangers, can we? Why can't nuns have a sense of justice? —she declared.

—Hmm... actually, that is admirable —I commented, observing her with respect—. Excuse me, I am bad with names; could you tell us yours?

—I am Rosaria. Now that I’ve told you my name, what are you two doing here? —she asked us with curiosity.

—Oh, we are looking for someone named Albedo —I responded calmly.

—If you are after him, then I did well to pay attention to your tracks —Rosaria said, striking a thoughtful pose as she assessed our next move.

We walked along the path, and the sound of our boots sinking into the snow was the only thing breaking the silence, besides Paimon's incessant voice. I must admit that the company of my little friend is a relief in moments like these; she knows how to fill the gaps when conversation with someone as frigid as Rosaria becomes difficult.

—Brr, it's getting colder and colder. Rosaria, aren't you freezing? —Paimon asked, rubbing her arms desperately while shivering.

—Me? I'm fine. I've been used to working in adverse conditions for a long time —Rosaria replied with an indifference that was almost colder than the wind itself.

We followed the upward path until, finally, the trail opened onto a natural viewpoint. There, silhouetted against the infinite white of the mountain, we saw a male figure. He was standing in front of an easel, moving his brush with hypnotic precision. Rosaria stopped and gave us a nod.

—They say he likes to draw. He often wanders through places like this in search of a good landscape —Rosaria said, crossing her arms while watching the alchemist from a distance—. Wherever you look, any landscape is worthy of being drawn.

—Well, that is true —I commented, letting out a sweet laugh that turned into a small trail of vapor—. The landscape here is unique. It has a cruel but fascinating beauty... almost like the people who inhabit it.

Albedo didn't seem to notice our presence immediately, or perhaps he was simply too professional to interrupt his stroke. The canvas showed a version of the mountain that seemed to have a life of its own.

I took a few steps forward, maintaining my distinguished bearing. Rosaria stayed a bit further back, leaning against a rock, watching us with those eyes that never stopped evaluating dangers.

—Master Albedo —I called out in a soft but clear voice, so as not to startle him in the middle of his creative process—. I apologize for interrupting your art, but we come on behalf of Sucrose.

The young alchemist stopped his brush short. He turned slowly, and his gaze, serene and analytical, rested first on me and then on Paimon.

—Then, if I am not mistaken, you must be the Honorary Knight. All of Mondstadt speaks of you —Albedo said, keeping his eyes fixed on me with an analytical and calm look, as if he were trying to paint my essence in his mind.

—Yes, it is me. A pleasure. Please, just call me ______ —I responded, giving him a sweet smile while composing myself in his presence.

Rosaria, who had escorted us there, let out a sigh of disinterest.

—I’ve helped you, I’m off —the nun declared, turning around and walking away through the snow without even looking back.

—Did Rosaria bring you? What a surprise; she left so quickly that I couldn't thank her —Albedo commented, a bit surprised by the nun's sudden departure. He refocused all his attention on me—. I’ve heard everything: your exploits during the Stormterror attack, your exceptional control of the elements, and a mysterious thing or two...

—I am sure some things are more rumors than anything else —I laughed softly, downplaying the titles—. Well, young Albedo, how can I help you? —I asked, crossing my arms elegantly.

Albedo remained silent for a second, evaluating my response.

—I will go straight to the conclusions. After all, there is only one possibility. You come from afar, perhaps from another world. Is that correct? —he asked with astonishing calm.

—Yes, that is correct. I come from a world different from this one —I responded with the same naturalness, without stopping my smile.

—Excellent. If I could have your support, I think it would be a great contribution to my research —Albedo said, and for the first time, I noticed an intriguing glint in his eyes.

—Hmm? I don't see why not, but could you tell me more about your research? —I asked, watching him with curiosity.

—Oh, I’m sorry, it might be a bit confusing. Where to start? Hmm... The essence of life? —Albedo stepped a little closer, checking the details of my clothes with the eyes of a scientist—. For example, the awakening of life. A new breath of life upon some dry leaves.

I looked at him carefully. Despite his brilliant intellect, I perceived in him an existential doubt that only someone with many years of life could notice.

—By the way you speak... it’s that you have questions from the past that you still haven't discovered, aren't you? —I said, meeting his gaze.

Albedo remained silent, visibly impacted by my intuition. The confidence of his posture wavered for an instant.

—Very observant, Miss ______ —he finally responded, crossing his arms while he processed my words.

—Just years of experience —I told him with tenderness. I stepped closer to him and, with a gesture full of maternal affection, gently stroked his hair—. Come now... let’s begin with your research, my child.

Albedo remained silent for a few seconds, processing the touch of my hand on his hair. His mind, usually filled with complex formulas and scientific axioms, had gone blank for an instant.

"What a peculiar person... she treated me as if I were a child," he thought, feeling a slight and unusual warmth rise up his neck. "I wonder what she's thinking. I had never met someone from another world... I'm quite excited about this experiment. But her caress... it was warm. I shouldn't be thinking this way, it's embarrassing."

I cleared my throat and stepped back, trying to regain my professionalism, although my eyes avoided his for a second. The touch of her hand on my hair still felt like a thermal anomaly on my scalp, a sensation my logic couldn't properly archive.

—Albedo, I would like to know the objective of your research, I'm very curious —______ said without looking away from the landscape. Her voice had a serenity that seemed to harmonize with the immensity of the mountain.

—The subject of my first research was the elements. In this world, manipulating the elements requires a Vision, but I don't see that you carry anything of the sort —I responded smoothly, trying to make my voice sound as neutral as possible—. I would like to find out how you are capable of freely manipulating elemental power. I have a few questions regarding that.

I began to observe her more closely, looking for some physical sign, some trait that would betray her origin from another world.

—First of all, do you have more organs than normal? A second heart, a fourth stomach... You know, things like that —I asked with scientific curiosity.

—Eh? —______ smiled, confused, and then laughed softly—. Not at all, I dare say I am a normal living being.

—Fascinating —I murmured, taking quick notes—. And is this floating girl... connected to your body in some way?

—Hmm? Not at all. Paimon is my guide in this world, what makes her unique is how adorable she is —she responded with that laugh that seemed to soften even the freezing air of Dragonspine.

—I was simply considering the possibility that you were an external organ. Perhaps there is some invisible force that connects you —I replied as I stopped taking notes and analyzed the floating creature.

—That’s terrifying! —Paimon shrieked, hiding behind ______—. Paimon is not an organ!

—Oh, that rules out that possibility. So, does Paimon channel elemental power into you? —I underlined some ideas in my notebook—. But that would mean her elemental power would be sufficient to pierce rocks at least ten meters thick, or to make the waterfall south of Springvale flow in reverse.

—My child, you are overthinking it, in my opinion —she told me with a calm that disarmed me—. But no, I don't do any of those things. As I said, surely the rumors you heard about me were exaggerations.

I closed my notebook, feeling a slight pang of intellectual frustration.

—In that case, it seems there is no obvious difference between the composition of your body and that of the humans of this world —I said, unable to hide a bit of my disappointment at the lack of biological anomalies.

—That seems to be the case, my child —she replied, crossing her arms.

I stared at her for a moment. "My child"... that way of calling me... it should be annoying or condescending, but on her lips, it sounded natural, almost protective. How could someone from another world fit so well into the role of a maternal and wise presence?

—If there are no physical differences, the secret must be in the execution —I thought aloud—. If you don't mind, ______... I would like to conduct a field test. I want to see how you interact with the elements under pressure. I need to know if your "normality" is only apparent.

—That sounds fine, tell me what ideas you have, Albedo? —______ says, looking at me with that serenity I find so difficult to categorize.

—First, let’s start with that mysterious elemental power. I would like to examine how it manifests externally —I respond while looking at ______ fixedly. I remain intrigued by the absence of a Vision—. Let me attract some Slimes. You can defeat them using the method that feels most natural to you.

—Ah, Paimon doesn't think this is very scientific —I hear the little girl say, who is next to ______, floating with evident distrust.

—Direct observation is essential for a good experiment. This is just a simple exercise —I respond without issue, adjusting my grip on my notebook—. Of course, if you need a greater challenge, we could bring six Oceanids —I add, looking at ______ with a hint of curiosity to see her reaction.

—Slimes! Slimes are fine! —Paimon shouts, entering a total panic at the mere mention of the water creatures.

______, instead of getting scared, laughs softly. It is a warm, almost protective laugh that resonates strangely in this frozen wasteland.

—I don't have a problem, as long as hydro-mimic beasts don't attack me —______ continues, laughing a little, showing me a confidence that forces me to rethink my initial hypotheses.

—______, don't encourage him! —Paimon kicks the air, totally agitated—. He is capable of doing it!

—Well, get ready. The Slimes will be here at any moment —I say as I move to another side to see better, looking for the perfect angle to capture every fluctuation of energy.

I make a small gesture with my hand, releasing an essence that attracts several Cryo Slimes from the surroundings. The creatures emerge from the snow, surrounding ______ with their icy bodies.

I remain silent, pencil ready on the paper. "Let’s see," I think to myself. "How does a 'normal' person from another world channel Teyvat's energy? Will there be a change in her body temperature? Or will the environment bend to her will?".

Despite my scientific focus, there is something in the way she called me "my child" a moment ago that continues to distract my stream of thought. It is embarrassing, but her presence has a gravity I cannot ignore... it is unsettling, in my opinion. My mind, which is always a place of order and logic, seems to be waging a battle against the warmth of that term. Why does it affect me so much? I am not a child, and yet, under her gaze, I feel that my titles and knowledge are nothing more than toys compared to her experience.

While I try to regain my center, I see how ______ manages to defeat the Slimes without any trouble. I remain mesmerized by the efficiency of her movements; there is an elegance in her that doesn't seem of this world, a harmony that forces me to stop writing to simply observe.

I see that it wasn't necessary for her to use her Anemo ability. Each strike, each movement, is so natural that it seems like a dance. It’s a pity; I was really hoping to see it in action, to see how the energy of this world bends before someone who doesn't belong to it. I suppose that will be for another occasion, but I cannot help but feel a mixture of relief and an almost painful curiosity. I see she finished quickly, and the silence that follows the combat feels heavier than the cold itself.

—Good job, did you feel anything out of the ordinary? —I ask, trying to keep my voice from trembling while I look at her from head to toe, looking for some peculiar sign. My gaze stops at her hands, then her face, looking for a signal, a crack in her "normality" that explains who she is—. If you are hurt, I have some emergency potions prepared. I wouldn't... I wouldn't want you to suffer any unnecessary harm.

—Don't worry Albedo, I'm fine, I’m just cold, I didn't expect the climate here to be so different —______ laughs softly, and that laugh, so full of life in this dead place, makes me feel a pang of something I don't know how to name.

—Fine, now that we saw the external flow, we can do the internal flow —I explain calmly, clinging to my role as a researcher so as not to get lost in her laugh.

—Internal flow? Paimon doesn't understand you at all —I see Paimon move her arms and curl back into ______'s arms. I feel strangely selfish.

—It’s very simple. I can use alchemy to create a potion that will extract elemental power —I explain calmly, although inside I wonder if I am being too insistent.

—Can you be more direct? —I see ______ hug Paimon so she stops shivering from the cold. That protective instinct makes me think about what she must have left behind in her own world.

—I mean that if elemental power is stored or physically accumulates inside your body, this potion will provoke an elemental reaction —I respond calmly, trying to visualize the alchemical process to calm my own pulse.

—Haha, does that mean it will crystallize in my stomach? —I see ______ ask me jokingly, and her lightness disarms me.

—No... under normal circumstances, you will only feel a little dizzy.

But seeing her expression of concern, my heart skips a beat. It isn't fear that I see in her eyes; it is something much more unsettling: compassion.

—Albedo, did you use yourself as a guinea pig? —I feel one of ______'s hands place itself on my forehead.

The world seems to stop. Her palm is cold from the wind, but the contact is so human, so direct, that I feel blood rushing to my cheeks. No one has ever touched me like this. Not to examine me, not to use me, but to care for me.

—Yes, but don't worry, it is to prevent future damage —I respond, feeling my voice sound much younger than I intend. I move her hand away carefully, but the place where she touched me continues to burn—. It is my duty as an alchemist to ensure the safety of the test subject... but thank you for your concern.

—If you say so... Tell me, will we do the experiment here? —______ asks me, and I look at her just as she begins to untie her scarf.

I see ______ take off her scarf and put it on Paimon with absolute naturalness. I stand there watching the gesture; she exposes herself to the cold without hesitation, prioritizing the well-being of that little guide. It is a pattern of behavior that repeats itself: first her concern for my health and now this. Her concept of "normality" includes a disregard for her own comfort that I can't quite process.

—No, we will do it in my laboratory —I respond, turning away quickly to hide that I have been staring at her longer than I should have.

I begin to walk toward my laboratory. The sound of her footsteps behind me in the snow forces me to maintain a steady pace, although my mind continues to wander on that term "my child." It is unsettling to me how someone I just met can generate such a strong gravity around them, one that distracts me from the axioms and formulas that normally occupy my head.

Upon reaching the entrance to the cave, the glow of the campfires illuminates our refuge. Timaeus is there, diligently checking some scrolls. Upon noticing our presence, he straightens up immediately, demonstrating the respect he has for our guest.

—We’re here —I say, gesturing for ______ to go in first—. Make yourselves comfortable.

—Thanks, it is warmer in here than outside —______ says while letting Paimon get close to the heat first. I observe how she moves aside to give priority to her little companion; that lack of selfishness remains an enigma to me.

—Paimon agrees! Outside it is horrible, I thought I would become a floating icicle —adds the little guide, curling up near the fire.

—Follow me, I want to show you something —I say, making an effort to regain my professional focus as I approach the workbench—. My assistant, Timaeus, is helping me with the research. I suppose you’ve already met in Mondstadt.

Timaeus straightens up with the formality that characterizes him before the Honorary Knight.

—Hello, I just obtained the data from your experiment. The report is on this board —he says, stepping aside to show the results.

—Wow! Look at all that information! Did you get all these results from a single battle with Slimes? —Paimon flies toward the board, opening her eyes wide.

—Haha! I wouldn't call them "results." At most, they are conjectures and some very bold hypotheses —Timaeus responds, crossing his arms with a smile—. I think the most rational thing would be to explain the phylogenetic relationship between Miss ______ and the Slimes.

—I would say that Paimon and I are more related, actually —______ comments, crossing her arms with that tranquility that always throws me off.

—Think about it, you don't have a Vision, but you can manipulate elemental energy. Slimes don't have Visions either, but they can also manipulate the elements —I add, feeling my mind accelerate at the possibility of a discovery—. If we continue investigating based on this reasoning, we will surely get more proof!

I hand her a translucent pink vial. My fingers graze hers for an instant and I feel a pang of doubt, a confusion that has no place in the scientific method.

—I suppose you're right —she says, taking the vial carefully—. What effects does this have, Albedo?

—You will only feel a little burning, nothing dangerous, I promise —I respond. My voice sounds confident, but inside I wonder if I am being too impulsive with my curiosity.

I observe as ______ drinks the potion slowly. The laboratory seems to fall into an absolute silence, broken only by the crackling of the campfires.

—Well, did you feel anything different? —I ask, starting to take notes of her facial expressions. I look for an elemental reaction, a change in her gaze, anything.

—Actually... yes. I have a bit of a headache —she says, bringing a hand to her forehead.

A chill that has nothing to do with Dragonspine's climate runs down my spine. That shouldn't be happening.

—You said you tested it yourself! Are you sure it was ready? What is happening to her? —Paimon looks at me panicked, and her fear only fuels my own confusion.

—Headache? I didn't see that coming... Take a seat while I see how to fix it —I stop writing abruptly. I feel a knot in my stomach; the idea of having caused her harm is unbearable to me in a way I cannot explain with alchemy.

—No... it’s not necessary, young Albedo. The pain is already going away. I think it was just while I was taking what you gave me —______ says calmly, looking at me with that sweetness that makes me feel like she is the one taking care of me, and not the other way around.

—Wait, are you telling Paimon that even if you knew you would get sick, you drank it? —Paimon says, surprised by her companion's devotion.

—Hehe, after all, it is my own potion. It is natural that I be my own guinea pig —I respond, a little amused by Paimon's exaggerated reaction.

I turn toward ______ and try to resume the formal tone, although inside I continue to dwell on her willingness to help me.

—Well, I think we have reached a conclusion! As far as elemental energy goes, there is nothing that differentiates you from the rest of the people in this world —I conclude, although deep down I know that physical "normality" is what makes her most extraordinary in my eyes.

—Mm, I see... I am glad you were able to reach a conclusion for your doubts, Albedo. But Paimon and I must go, we have another commitment —she says, and I feel a pang of disappointment that I strive not to show.

—Paimon almost forgot! The meeting time is already passing —the little guide exclaims, waving her arms—. Let’s go! —And without waiting, she starts to float quickly toward the cave exit.

______ takes a step toward me. Before I can say a formal goodbye, she extends her hands and, with a softness that leaves me paralyzed, holds my cheeks. The heat of her palms contrasts violently with the icy air of the laboratory.

—Smile more, my child... —she tells me, and her voice sounds so close that I can feel its cadence—. Many people will be afraid of you if you aren't more expressive.

I remain motionless, with an erratic pulse, unable to articulate a single word of alchemy or logic. She releases my cheeks with an almost reverent care and leaves with Paimon, disappearing into the whiteness of Dragonspine’s snow.

I stand there, under the flickering light of the torches. Timaeus looks at me out of the corner of his eye, probably as confused as I am, but I don't care. I bring a hand to my face, brushing the skin she just touched.

—What a... strange person —I whisper to myself, feeling my cheeks burn from a heat that no campfire could ever provoke.

Paimon and I had to run..., no, wait, I had to run at full speed. Paimon was only following me and, when I saw her, I realized she was struggling to keep up; her little hands were waving in the air as she tried to catch her breath. When we reached young Diluc’s tavern, the atmosphere was heavy and charged with a seriousness that contrasted with the usual bustle of Mondstadt. Everyone was already there; I recognized familiar faces, but also a presence I hadn't expected for this meeting.

—Acting Grand Master Jean, what a pleasure to see you again —I smile sweetly while giving a slight bow as I see her, trying to hide the exhaustion burning in my lungs.

—Wait a moment, is that you, ______? —Jean says, visibly surprised. Her rigid posture relaxes for just a second to return the greeting with a slight bow.

—It seems you two get along well; perfect, then it won't be so awkward —Diluc says, crossing his arms behind the bar, with that look of his that seems to read even the most hidden thoughts—. First of all, I notified more than one person. Second, the reason Jean is here is that today she comes as Jean, and not as the "Acting Grand Master."

He looks at me and Paimon seriously, with an intensity that reminds me that what we are about to discuss is no tavern game.

—It is not something you see every day. Not even for an Honorary Knight like you.

—______, I didn't think the incident was your doing —Jean says, also crossing her arms, although I notice a slight tremor in her voice, a trace of nervousness she tries to hide under her knightly discipline.

—In reality, I can defend myself, Paimon, and Venti —I laugh softly while taking a seat, feeling my muscles appreciate the rest—. I’m sorry, but I come from Dragonspine and I am a bit tired, but I promise it won't affect the plan.

This scene in the tavern perfectly blends the heavy politics of Mondstadt with your relaxed and almost maternal attitude that so disarms powerful characters. While they carry the weight of the nation's destiny, you break their rigidity with a human gesture.

Here is the continuation of the scene:

—What were you doing in Dragonspine? —Venti asks, tilting his head, genuinely confused by your whereabouts.

—Oh, I was helping young Albedo with an experiment of his —I respond, and I laugh softly as I remember the alchemist's confused face—. Nothing serious, I swear. —I turn to Jean, regaining my composure—. Forgive my rudeness, please continue with what you were saying.

Jean nods, though she gives me a fleeting look of curiosity before picking up the thread of the conversation.

—So, the sound of the Holy Lyre can purify Stormterror and return him to normal..., right? —Jean asks, seeking confirmation from Diluc.

—Correct! ______ will be at the forefront of this whole Stormterror matter —Venti intervenes calmly, wrapping his arm around me in a friendly hug that almost makes me lose my balance—. A job worthy of the new recruit of the Knights of Favonius! —he exclaims with that contagious joy that seems to ignore the fact that we are talking about an ancient dragon.

—Hmm? Paimon thinks we are breaking the law... —Paimon murmurs, sitting next to me with an expression of existential doubt.

—I understand that such an absurd explanation is difficult to believe —Diluc says, uncrossing his arms and letting out a sigh of resignation—. It’s fine. We can ask the bard to play one more time to convince... the Acting Grand Mas...

—I believe you... —Jean interrupts him with absolute calm. Her eyes cloud over a little as she stares into the distance—. I can't think of any reason why Dvalin, who was one of the Four Winds, would have betrayed us —she says in a tone tinged with sadness, carrying her hand to her chest.

—Mm... Pff! —I hide my laugh behind one of my hands, unable to contain how funny it is to see the ease with which Jean accepts Venti's madness—. I’m sorry...

—That was too fast! —Paimon exclaims, giving a small jump in the air.

—But if he was poisoned during the battle for Mondstadt, so many years ago, and was corrupted by the Abyss Mages after waking from his slumber... I don't blame him —Jean continues, sighing with exhaustion—. But, as Acting Grand Master, obviously I cannot say such a thing publicly. Due to the diplomatic pressure from the Fatui, it is difficult to find a peaceful solution to Stormterror's problem. People would think I haven't weighed the gravity of the situation, so I can only act on my own behalf.

—That is one of the reasons why I don't like the Knights of Favonius —Diluc states with a hint of bitterness, shifting his gaze toward his glasses.

In the midst of that palpable tension, where duty clashes with resentment, I simply smile sweetly. I stand up slightly and, with the same naturalness with which I treated Albedo on the mountain, I extend my hands and give both of them a gentle pat on the head.

I completely ignore how Jean is left petrified, her cheeks turning a pale pink, or how Diluc tenses under my touch, his eyes wide open and his mouth slightly agape, not knowing how to react to such an unforeseen display of affection.

—Don't be so overwhelmed —I say in a low voice, keeping the caress a second longer on their heads—. We are in this together, and everything will turn out fine. Besides, if we have each other, it will be impossible for them to defeat us. We have a great woman who knows how to fight, a man who doesn't just watch over his people but is capable of overcoming more than anyone, and a Bard who has the very voice of freedom —I smile sweetly, dividing my gaze between them.

The silence that follows is almost sacred. Jean looks at me with shining eyes, moved by words she probably needed to hear for a long time. For his part, Diluc lowers his gaze toward the counter, hiding his face behind a few strands of red hair, but he doesn't pull away from my hand.

—And don't forget an Outlander with years of experience in her travels! —Venti exclaims happily, breaking the solemnity with a jump and raising his hand as if making a toast to the air. His laughter fills the room, returning the lightness necessary to keep us from sinking into worry.

—Eh... I... —Jean shakes her head a little to recover. Her face is flushed, but she coughs a bit to regain that steely composure that characterizes her—. I think I know where the Holy Lyre might be.

Venti and I turn to look at each other and laugh under our breath. It is evident that we had the same thought: Jean's "incredible" subtlety in changing the subject after having been disarmed by a caress is, to say the least, adorable.

—The conflict between Mondstadt and Snezhnaya has its origin in the conflict between the Seven Nations and their respective gods —Jean continues, now recovered—. The Cryo Archon, who is in command of the Fatui, desires the divine power of the Anemo Archon.

—Hmm? That means they are determined to kill Dvalin... —I let out a sigh laden with exhaustion and a flash of anger. It bothers me that they see a suffering creature only as a source of energy. But I smile sweetly again, because rage won't solve anything now—. Well... that's why we are all here to stop it.

As I speak, I take Venti's beret off with total confidence and start to stroke his hair. He closes his eyes for a moment, enjoying the gesture as if it were the most important thing in the world.

—That's right... If it were known publicly that the Knights of Favonius hindered the death of Dvalin, then... —Jean becomes even more serious—. The only way to obtain the power of the Anemo Archon is through the Holy Lyre.

—The number of Fatui who have arrived is not small... as always, they are a threat —Diluc intervenes, setting aside his glasses to lock eyes with us—. But I have managed to extract some information from them... by force —he says with a hint of pride he doesn't bother to hide.

I smile with my eyes closed, feeling an imaginary drop of sweat on my temple. Diluc definitely needs urgent lessons in diplomacy and subtlety, but I suppose that's what makes him who he is. What am I going to do with this impulsive "child"?

—According to Diluc’s information, the Fatui did not store the Holy Lyre in the Grand Goth Hotel —Jean adds with stunning serenity. I am surprised how she accepts with such naturalness that Diluc uses... questionable methods.

—I suppose they wouldn't want to leave a stolen relic in a place where it would be easy to find —Jean reasons just as serenely.

—Paimon understands. If things got out of hand, it would be a diplomatic crisis —Paimon comments, floating nervously from one side to the other.

—Hm! That is how diplomatic relations are between the Seven Nations —Diluc declares neutrally.

—Oh... that is a bit sad —I sigh, stopping stroking Venti's hair to mentally prepare myself.

However, before I can withdraw my hand completely, Venti catches it and puts it back on his head, looking at me with a silent plea in his eyes.

—Bard, take this seriously, please —Diluc explodes, losing his patience at the bard's lack of interest in the gravity of the situation.

—When do we leave, then? —I ask, giving in and continuing to stroke Venti's hair to keep him calm.

—Right now. Let's go —Diluc responds, turning around and walking toward the exit with a determined stride.

The place is cold and damp, one of those ruins that the Abyss Order or the Fatui usually claim for their shady affairs. As we walk, that peculiar presence lingers, vibrating in the air like an out-of-tune note. It isn't just the Lyre; there is something more, something that feels ancient and dense.

—Young Diluc... are you sure this is the place they told you about? —I ask seriously, crossing my arms. The structure before us seems far too quiet.

—Yes, they wouldn't dare lie to me. If they did, they will know the consequences —Diluc replies, and his voice carries that cutting edge that reminds me why he is the "uncrowned King" of Mondstadt.

—Paimon thinks you're terrifying! —the little one exclaims, hiding behind my back to avoid Diluc’s gaze.

—It’s best we go in. Let’s split into pairs, so we can cover more ground —Jean proposes, regaining her command tone. Her eyes scan the entrance cautiously.

—I’ll go with Venti. It will be faster, in my opinion, unless anyone wants to object —I respond calmly, sweeping my gaze across their faces—. Well, I see no one is objecting, so let’s move out.

Without giving them time to debate, I firmly take Venti’s arm. He lets himself be led with a knowing smile, though I notice his aquamarine eyes shining with unusual seriousness.

—Wait! Be careful, all three of you —Jean manages to call out behind us. Her voice conveys that constant concern of someone who feels responsible for us all.

We walk down a side hallway, moving away from the echo of Jean and Diluc's boots. The darkness is almost total, interrupted only by a few cold-light torches placed on the walls.

—_______!, you can’t do that, what if you forget Paimon! —Paimon pouts adorably, waving her hands in the air.

—I’m sorry, Paimon, I didn't mean to. I needed to be alone with Venti, I need to ask him something... Don't worry, Paimon, you can stay; after all, I don't think it's a bad thing for you to find out —I smile sweetly while completely ignoring the look of profound confusion Venti is giving me.

—Eh?... what do you mean by that? —Venti says, imitating Paimon’s pout, visibly thrown off.

—Barbatos... I need you to be honest about something —I say with a sudden seriousness that makes the air feel a bit colder.

—Hmm?... Wow, I don't know why it makes me uncomfortable for you to call me that —Venti responds, laughing nervously and scratching the back of his neck—. I didn't do anything to upset you, did I? —Suddenly, he makes that "scolded puppy" face, as if he fears I am actually about to give him a divine lecture.

—Pff, forgive me if it sounded like a scolding... but I wanted to ask you if young Diluc’s wine is truly as good as you say —I finally let out, letting a small laugh escape.

—Eh?! You’re seriously asking me that?! Paimon thought it would be something more important! —Paimon starts kicking the air, indignant at having followed us with such tension only to end up talking about drinks.

—Eh? Hahaha! That was it? —Venti recovers his usual sparkle instantly, puffing out his chest with pride—. I, as the wine expert that I am, dare say yes! It is delicious, it is sweet and rich! There is nothing in all of Mondstadt that compares to it.

—Paimon can’t deal with you two... —the little guide murmurs, crossing her arms and sighing with resignation.

We advanced through the hallways, defeating monsters here and there. I was already a bit fed up with so many critters, so when we reached the end and saw the room was emptier than a bard’s wallet, the disappointment was epic.

—It seems the Holy Lyre is not in this part of the temple —I said, crossing my arms and letting out a sigh that only a mother or a lady with a lot of patience knows how to give.

—Darn, I thought it would be here. It seems the Anemo God’s blessing is not on our side this time —Venti said, scratching his head and letting out that silly "it wasn't me" chuckle.

—That’s a bad joke, Venti. Especially since the Anemo God is right here scratching his neck —I shot back with a withering look—. Let’s go back to the center; maybe Jean and Diluc had better luck. Let’s go, guys.

Paimon and Venti followed me quickly, like children who know they have behaved badly. As we walked back, I couldn't help but grumble internally. This place is a labyrinth; I hadn't been this lost since I was much younger. Oh, I feel like a middle-aged lady, I thought, adjusting my clothes, but a lady with a lot of class and a pride that doesn't fit in my chest.

When we arrived to find Diluc and Jean, the image was a sight: both of them looked as if they had gone through a washing machine on the "extra spin" cycle.

—It seems you two had more work than we did. How did it go? Did you find the Holy Lyre, or just fight with the dust? —I looked at both of them, trying not to laugh at Jean’s rebellious locks of hair.

—No... just many monsters. Phew... I didn't think there would be so many problems —Jean said, leaning on her sword and panting as if she had run a marathon in full armor.

—Hmm... it seems they lied to me. I will have to be "more persuasive," in my opinion —Diluc let out with a terrifying calm, even though his face was full of soot. It was clear his concept of "persuading" included burning things.

—Now, now, my children, breathe a little —I told them, feeling like I was about to pull out a handkerchief to clean their faces—. We only have one part of the temple left.

—Paimon thinks we should go together! —the little one intervened, flying in circles—. Maybe if we go in a bunch, the monsters will get scared seeing so many long faces!

—Paimon is right —I added, giving them a few pats on the back—. Go together before Diluc decides to burn the entire temple out of pure tantrum and Jean faints from excess courtesy. Let’s go!

We set off. I must admit it was faster defeating the remaining creatures, although I worry Diluc is so violent with them; that is dangerous. When we finally reached the area, we found a Fatui soldier.

In the end, we had to walk to another room in the temple. The air here felt denser, charged with a military discipline we hadn't seen in the previous halls. There we found another Fatui soldier; unlike the previous one, this one looked much more serious and didn't seem to have any intention of trembling before us.

—Excuse me, young man... I would like to ask you something —I said, keeping my tone calm and smiling softly, even though my hand was already instinctively brushing the hilt of my weapon.

—Eh? Who are you people? How did you manage to get in here? —the soldier asked, crossing his arms with a firmness that denoted training.

—We don't have time for this. Surrender now or prepare for the consequences —Diluc declared. I noticed out of the corner of my eye how he clenched his fists; he found it incredibly ironic, and almost exasperating, that I was still trying to be kind after everything we had been through.

—Ha! The will of Snezhnaya is as solid as permafrost! I will not yield! —the soldier exclaimed with pride.

In that instant, a girl appeared by his side, a Cicin Mage who looks at us with a malicious smile, ready to fight.

—Can there not be a moment where we don't have to fight? —I sighed, summoning my sword in a flash of light. The weight of the steel in my hand brought me back to the reality of the mission. I looked at Jean with a spark of determination in my eyes—. Ready, Jean? —I asked her, smiling despite the situation.

—Always! —Jean responded, summoning her sword with lethal elegance. The wind began to swirl around her, agitating her cape and marking the beginning of what would undoubtedly be the definitive battle for the Holy Lyre.

Diluc snorted and summoned his greatsword.

—Finally... some logical action —he muttered, rushing to the front.

The fight began and the Fatui soldier summoned some kind of insects that made the fight a bit difficult; I must admit it is a bit more complicated than it seemed at first glance. The air was full of static and buzzing, but the coordination between Diluc’s fire and Jean’s wind ended up breaking their defenses. When we managed to defeat them, Diluc and Jean were about to finish them off, so I intervened immediately, placing myself in front of them.

—Enough, you’ve already left them weak enough; that will suffice —I said firmly. I looked at the defeated soldiers and, crouching down calmly, I handed both of them some sweets—. This will help you recover a little; for now, sleep and rest —I smiled sweetly. Then, I looked at the others over my shoulder—. Let’s get out of here, I already have the key we need.

The others started walking toward the exit, somewhat bewildered by my insistence on mercy. I glanced at the soldiers one last time before leaving them behind.

—Take good care of yourselves, little ones —I whispered to them in a warm tone.

—Wait... why are you treating us like this? —asked one of the Fatui soldiers, holding his side in pain, his eyes wide with confusion.

—Because I am not capable of hurting a living being to the point of death. Besides, you were just doing your duty; you don’t deserve such a tragic fate —I smiled sweetly—. May the stars guide you toward the future, my children.

I followed the others, leaving both soldiers processing my words in the gloom of the temple. When I reached the group in front of a huge circular structure, Venti received me with that curious look of his.

—Ehe, ______... would you do us the honor? —he said, nodding toward the lock mechanism.

—Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot I had the key —I laughed a little, embarrassed, and used the object to activate the mechanism.

With a dull thud of stone rubbing against stone, the five of us watched as a heavy door opened to reveal a room bathed in an ethereal, bluish light.

—I feel the presence of the Holy Lyre... it must be there —Venti said, and his voice sounded deeper, almost as if the very air of Mondstadt were sighing in relief.

When we entered the heart of the temple, we saw one last hooded soldier; his posture was rigid and his hands tightened around his weapon with desperate determination. He seemed ready to fight to the end, giving his life if necessary.

—Hmm... —I sighed to myself. (On this occasion, I should be worried about his sacrifice mentality...)

I stood there for a second, lost in my thoughts, trying to devise a way to dissuade him without violence, but without realizing it, Diluc had already taken care of the Fatui soldier. It was so fast that, because I was thinking, I couldn't intervene to prevent his fall. The man lay unconscious on the floor before he could say a single word.

—There... now we won't have any more annoyances interfering —Diluc said coldly, making his greatsword disappear in a shower of red sparks.

—Yes... I suppose you’re right —I responded, letting out a long, heavy sigh. —I’m sorry if my voice sounds exhausted. It’s been a long time since I fought this much... I feel like I’m getting a bit rusty.

I leaned against the stone wall for a moment, feeling the weight of the years of travel and the accumulated fatigue since I left the snows of Dragonspine.

—Don't worry... ______, in my opinion, you are still very strong —Jean said immediately, taking a step closer to try and lift my spirits with that noble warmth she possesses.

—Yes, I actually didn't know you could fight using so few sword movements —Diluc added calmly. Although his tone was neutral, coming from someone as demanding as him, it was a huge compliment to my technique.

—Yes! Paimon agrees, you’re still very strong! —the little one exclaimed, floating around me, waving her hands to cheer me up.

I smiled at their words, feeling that the fatigue was worth it if I was surrounded by people like this. I straightened my back and looked toward the center of the room, where the Holy Lyre awaited.

—Thank you, my children. I suppose I still have some energy left in these old bones —I joked, although inside I felt renewed—. Venti, go ahead. It is time for you to reclaim what is yours.

—Ehe... thank you all very much for helping me —Venti said, his eyes shining as if he had found hidden treasure, as he stretched his hands to grab the Holy Lyre.

Just when the bard was about to touch the relic, the Fatui soldier who was on the floor, defeated and disheveled, decided it was the perfect time for his villain monologue:

—Signora will finish you... —he sentenced dramatically from the floor—. The songs that bards sing of your death will be so terrifying that the people of Mondstadt will never sleep again because of the nightmares.

None of us even bothered to look at him. We were too busy checking if we had stained our clothes with dust.

—Great speech for someone who ran away at the end... Chicken —Paimon mocked, floating with her arms crossed and an ironic look that made one want to applaud her.

—That’s how most Fatui scum are —Diluc added, rolling his eyes with infinite annoyance—. Lots of drama and very little technique.

—I already have the Holy Lyre! Let’s get out of here before the hooded guy decides to recite poetry! —Venti exclaimed with a mischievous chuckle.

We all headed toward the exit with our heads held high. As we walked back to Mondstadt under the sunlight, Venti and I exchanged a knowing look. We knew that our true mission now was another: to melt Diluc’s ice.

—Hey, Diluc... —I said, approaching him with my sweetest, most persuasive smile—. Why don't we celebrate this with a glass of wine and grape juice? My throat is dry from scolding so many monsters.

—Ehe! I agree! —Venti jumped in, playing along like a professional—. Come on, Diluc, don't be boring, let’s celebrate the success.

Diluc stopped for a second and looked at us as if we were two grease stains on his favorite greatsword.

—You two... are two of a kind —he let out with a sigh that seemed to carry all the weight of Teyvat—. But it is too early. The sun is barely high.

—It is never too early for a meeting between friends and to celebrate —I responded, giving his arm a light tap—. At least with a coffee or one of those grape juices you make so well. Don't tell me you are going to deny a whim to this exhausted "poor lady."

Venti started nodding with exaggerated drama behind me.

—Ugh... —Diluc grimaced, but I could see his ears turning a bit red—. Fine. But if the bard starts singing odes to my vineyards to ask for free food, I’m kicking him out of the tavern.

—Knight’s promise! —Venti shouted, although we all knew it was a total lie.

Jean walked a step behind, trying to hide her laugh behind her hand to maintain her composure as a Knight of Favonius, but it was useless.

—Paimon thinks you two act like children —Paimon said, sighing with an exhaustion that seemed to have added ten years to her small, floating figure.

—Back to the topic, we must return to Angel’s Share. We need to check "that" —I said, trying to regain a bit of seriousness as I brushed the dust of the journey off and adjusted my clothes with precise gestures.

—Ehe... yes, you’re right. Besides, only one more thing is missing for the plan to work —Venti added, regaining that sparkle in his eyes but maintaining that smile that always seems to hide an ancient secret.

—Let’s go. The fate of Mondstadt is at stake —Jean declared, resuming her posture as Acting Grand Master and pointing the way with determination.

We walked back to the city, crossing the bridge under the curious gaze of Timmie’s pigeons. Upon entering the tavern, the atmosphere shifted: the aroma of old wood and fermented grapes welcomed us like an embrace. I went straight behind the bar.

—Alright —I said, as I prepare the drinks and look at the Bard—. We have the Lyre. Now, how do you plan to use "that" to purify Dvalin's tears?

I watched the scene while leaning against the bar, arms crossed. Sometimes I find it hard to believe that the fate of Mondstadt depends on a bard who doesn't even have the money to pay for a glass and a woman who treats enemy soldiers as if they were her misguided grandchildren.

—Ehe —Venti let out that little giggle of his that makes me want to add a surcharge to his non-existent tab—. Time to shine, outlander!

—Hmm? But I don't know how to fix instruments, Venti —______ responded with a soft laugh and that look of confusion that, honestly, sometimes makes me doubt if she knows what kind of mess she’s gotten herself into.

—Don't worry, it isn't broken. It’s just that the intensity of its Anemo power has diminished considerably —the bard explained, making the Holy Lyre appear. The instrument looked older and duller than usual, almost as tired as Jean after a day of paperwork—. ______, do you still have Dvalin’s crystallized Tear?

She nodded and summoned the crystals. The atmosphere in the tavern changed instantly; the red glow of the tears was murky, charged with an energy that any sensible person would avoid touching. But, of course, she isn't "any person."

—Excellent. Try using it on the Lyre —the bard said with a carefree smile, as if they were just decorating a cake.

—Very well, leave it to me, Venti —she said with a determination that made me arch an eyebrow.

I watched as ______ managed to fuse the greenish crystal tears with the lyre. We were all surprised by the aura it emanated; the glow was so intense that even the shadows in the tavern seemed to recede for an instant.

—It worked just as I thought —the bard said proudly, puffing out his chest as if he had done all the heavy lifting.

—This rejuvenating glow... —Jean murmured, admiring the Holy Lyre with an almost mystical devotion.

—Praising yourself? Seriously? —Paimon blurted out from nowhere, looking at Jean with an expression of pure sarcasm that made me let out a snort of internal laughter.

—... I am talking about the Holy Lyre —Jean responded, a drop of sweat sliding down her temple, immediately regaining her serious expression.

—Thanks to ______ purifying the crystal, the Lyre will no longer lose any more Anemo power —the bard explained, taking the instrument into his hands delicately. Even so, it is far from complete. It would be great if we could get more tears.

—More tears? Where do we get more tears? —______ asked, looking at Venti with that eternal willingness she has to help everyone.

I kept watching the bard, who had crossed his arms and was furrowing his brow with such intensity that it looked like he was trying to solve an impossible mathematical equation or remembering where he left his last Mora.

—Whatever the case, I’m going to help find the other tears, Venti. You aren't alone in this —______ said, breaking the drama with that "mom taking care of everything" attitude that is already her personal trademark.

—I don't know if the Honorary Knight will be able to do it alone. The rest of us Knights of Favonius will accompany you —Jean added with such absolute seriousness that it made the situation seem like an official declaration of war.

—That’s right. Mondstadt shouldn't be protected by just one person; we will do it too —I added, while serving the drinks with the efficiency of someone who prefers filling glasses to giving speeches.

—When you get the crystallized Tear, leave the purification to ______ —Jean instructed, looking at the traveler like someone entrusting fine porcelain to another’s care.

—Yes! Leave it to me! —______ exclaimed with a grin from ear to ear, grabbing her glass of wine as if it were a war trophy.

—Oh! Heroes helping each other and embarking on an adventure together... It’s fascinating! —Venti regained his joy all of a sudden, puffing out his chest again—. Perfect for composing a song... —And with a magic trick worthy of a rogue, he made the Lyre disappear and grabbed a glass of wine in one fluid motion.

—Eh? That’s what you’re going to do? Sing? —Paimon looked at him with a stone face, totally disappointed. Her tone was so mocking that it could be cut with a knife as she took a dignified sip of her grape juice.

—What kind of bard would I be if I didn't? —Venti responded, flashing a charming smile before taking a swig of his quality wine (which, of course, he wasn't going to pay for).

—Ha! Such cheek! You deserve a horrible nickname —Paimon sentenced. She put down her juice, floated into a "great thinker" pose, and after two seconds of deep reflection, yelled—: Ah, Paimon has it! From now on you’ll be "the hack bard"!

I couldn't help it. A laugh escaped me that I tried to camouflage by covering my mouth with my hand, but it ended up sounding like a poorly faked sigh and a spasm in my shoulders. Seeing the "God of Wind" being baptized as a second-hand object by a floating creature was too much.

—Pff... how creative you are, Paimon —______ let out between bursts of laughter, putting down her wine glass while trying to catch her breath.

—Ehe! You’re mean, Paimon, but oh well... —Venti let out one last chuckle with a shrug, accepting his new title of "hack" with an enviable philosophy. Suddenly, his expression turned a bit warmer and he raised his glass toward the center of the group—. Cheers to Mondstadt and the cure for Dvalin!

It was one of those moments that get etched in memory, where the differences between knights, bards, vineyard owners, and travelers from other worlds disappeared completely. Jean was smiling in that relaxed way she only allows herself when she’s off-duty, Paimon raised her little glass of juice with overflowing enthusiasm, and even I, from behind the bar, felt that for once, things might actually turn out okay.

—Cheers! —we all yelled at the same time.

The sound of clinking glasses resonated against the wooden walls of the tavern, sealing our promise. The wine was sweet, the grape juice was just right, and for an instant, the weight of the storm lurking outside seemed to disappear.

Once we finished the toast, we left Angel's Share and walked back under the starry Mondstadt sky, following the direction Venti indicated. The night air felt refreshing, but the calm didn't last long before the conversation took an interesting turn.

—This search reminds me of a fight I had with the Fatui —Diluc remarked suddenly. I noticed him glancing at me out of the corner of his eye, as if comparing our current mission to his past experiences—. It was half a year ago. A thief stole a treasure from the Temple of the East Wind.

—And what did he steal? The glass Barbatos used to drink from? —I asked teasingly, letting out a small laugh. Knowing the Fatui, I wouldn't be surprised if they tried to auction off a god's silverware.

—No. Although, now that you mention it, if such a thing existed, it would be quite valuable —Diluc replied, and to my surprise, he let out a short chuckle. Seeing him laugh, even a little, always made me feel like our group was becoming more united.

—Oh? So, what was it that they discovered? —I insisted, still chuckling softly, intrigued by the mystery of the temples.

—Of all the things they unearthed, there was one object in particular that was truly unusual... —Diluc became thoughtful, maintaining that half-smile he rarely showed outside of these gatherings.

—Paimon can’t handle the suspense, tell us what it is! —Paimon exclaimed, floating in front of him and pouting in pure desperation.

—It was a jar that contained the breath of the Anemo god —Diluc stated with absolute seriousness.

—Is that even possible? —I asked, blinking in confusion. I imagined a Fatui soldier running from one side to the other with an empty jar, trying to catch a breeze. The mental image was so ridiculous I almost burst into another fit of laughter.

—Well, there certainly are strange treasures in this world... —Paimon added, scratching her head with the same expression of confusion I surely had.

I glanced sideways at Venti to see his reaction. The "hack bard" was walking with his hands behind his head, whistling a carefree tune, but I noticed a spark of mischief in his green eyes. Clearly, he knew something we didn't.

—Whatever was in that jar —I said, adjusting my scarf—, I hope Dvalin’s tears are easier to identify than bottled air.

—Ehe! Of course, a person with an eye for art like me would want a relic like that in their collection —Venti said in a playful, mocking tone, putting on the airs of a great connoisseur.

—Venti, I feel like those things would be unnecessary —I responded, laughing softly while shaking my head. Sometimes I wondered if this bard had a magnet for the most absurd things in Teyvat.

—But once the rumor spread, the Fatui also tried to get their hands on that treasure —Diluc continued, resuming his air of a serious narrator—. They made thousands of fake replicas that they distributed through all the markets.

—What are you talking about! I can't believe there are people capable of buying something like that! —Paimon exclaimed, making a funny face of pure confusion. I imagined her trying to bite the jar to see if it was valuable.

—So, to solve the problem, I bought every jar I saw, fake or not. What's more, to this day I'm still buying them —Diluc declared with a scary level of seriousness.

Paimon and I froze, processing the magnitude of his obsession (or his wallet). Suddenly, I could hear Venti’s stifled giggles, a chuckle that threatened to turn into an outrageous roar of laughter. I had to react quickly and cover his mouth with my hand so Diluc wouldn't lose his patience and end up punching him.

—In total, I have over two thousand fake items, and the Fatui still haven't found the original —Diluc concluded calmly, like someone counting how many grapes they’ve harvested.

—Wow! You guys really are crazy... —Paimon sighed, surrendering to the logic of millionaires—. Then that means the original must be circulating on the black market, right? —Paimon began to think, a glint of greed in her eyes—. In that case... Paimon will give you a "friends discount" if she finds it! —she puffed out her chest, proud and excited.

—Eh? Paimon, I don't think it's a good idea to search those areas for a relic, it would be very dangerous —I said, sighing and laughing at the same time at my little guide's antics.

—Well, you can try. I won't reject whatever you bring me, even if it's fake —Diluc said, chuckling with playful malice—. When you manage to get one, come find me at the winery. I'll give you a beer for every twenty you collect.

In that moment, my protective instinct kicked in. Without thinking twice, I reached out and gave Diluc’s ear a tug.

—Don't tell Paimon that, she’s a child, don't be rude —I said seriously, though I didn't stop tugging his ear gently, like someone scolding a mischievous boy.

—I was just... joking —Diluc muttered.

I saw him blush immediately, not just from the relaxed lecture I was giving him in front of everyone, but because he clearly didn't expect anyone to have the courage to scold him like that, let alone in such a familiar way.

—Ehe! I never thought I’d see the day where the great, imperturbable Diluc would be scolded like a child who doesn't want to eat his vegetables —Venti let out, bursting into laughter as soon as I let go of his mouth, completely ignoring the death glare Diluc was throwing his way.

Diluc adjusted his collar with comic stiffness, trying to regain his lost dignity while the redness in his cheeks refused to fade.

—It was just a tactically misinterpreted comment —Diluc grumbled, diverting his gaze toward some bushes as if they had suddenly become the most interesting thing in the world—. And stop laughing, bard, or the next round of grape juice will be the last of your life.

—Oh, I’m so scared! —Venti mocked, hiding dramatically behind me—. ______! Protect me! The tavern owner is using his "angry millionaire" aura against me!

Jean, who had been making a superhuman effort to maintain her "Acting Grand Master" face, finally let out a sound that resembled a sneeze, but we all knew it was a stifled laugh.

—Paimon thinks ______ has a secret superpower —the little guide whispered, floating near my ear—. She’s managed to make the most serious man in Mondstadt look like a tomato! That’s more impressive than defeating a Dragon!

—Well, well —I said, trying to contain my own laughter as I finally let go of Diluc’s ear—. Less laughing and more eyes open. If we keep this up, Paimon is going to end up trying to sell bottled air to Hilichurls just to pay for her sweets.

—Hey! —Paimon protested—. It’s a very solid business model!

I observed the ruins with the analytical gaze that years in the Order had granted me. The metal giant, a Ruin Guard, patrolled the area with heavy steps that made the ground vibrate beneath my boots. I sighed, feeling the weight of fatigue on my shoulders.

—It seems this is going to be more complicated than I thought —I commented, keeping my hand near my sword hilt.

—Hmm?... isn't there some way to defeat it quickly? —______ asked, looking at me with that blend of hope and practicality that characterized her so well.

—Yes, there is. We must shoot its core; with that, we could disorient it and avoid the fight —I responded. Automatically, my eyes drifted toward the bard.

Diluc, who was by my side, did exactly the same. Paimon even more so. A deathly silence fell as we all fixed our eyes on Venti.

—Ehe... why is everyone looking at me like that? —Venti asked, taking a step back with a nervous smile that didn't fool anyone.

—Hack bard, you're the only one here with a bow and enough aim not to hit a tree by accident —Paimon shot back, floating with her arms crossed.

—Venti, please —I added, trying to sound like the Acting Grand Master, though inside I wanted to laugh—. I trust in your... artistic skills with the bow. It’s for the good of Mondstadt.

Venti sighed melodramatically, bringing a hand to his forehead as if he were about to faint.

—Oh, the cruelty of the powerful! Forcing a poor bard to perform heavy manual labor —he complained, though he was already summoning his bow with an emerald glow—. Fine, I’ll do it. But if I miss, I want it on record that the wind was "very noisy" today.

I saw ______ pat his back to encourage him, while Diluc simply rolled his eyes and readied his greatsword in case the "artist" missed his shot. At that moment, I realized that, although we were the weirdest rescue group in history, somehow... we worked.

Venti, as expected, did not miss. His arrow hit the target with almost divine precision, and the Guard collapsed like a pile of old scrap metal.

—As expected from the most popular bard in the capital —______ said with a radiant smile, while she reached out and pulled one of Venti’s cheeks as if he were a ragdoll—. Just for that, I’ll buy you three bottles of wine!

—______! You’re the best! —Venti exclaimed, forgetting his "hidden deity" dignity to rub his cheek against hers in a gesture of pure alcoholic gratitude.

—Ahem... we still need to find Dvalin’s tear —I intervened, trying to sound professional while letting out a soft giggle that betrayed my amusement.

—I think we found it —Diluc announced from a nearby chest, with Paimon peeking out beside him as if she had made the discovery of the century.

After collecting the tear and watching ______ carefully put it away, we set off. Behind us, the Guard began to beep and try to get up, but we brushed it off; we already had the loot. The problem started when ______ decided Venti was "too tired" (or simply too lazy) and lifted him onto her back to carry him.

—Tell me, Jean, what’s your technique for searching? —______ asked me while walking along so calmly with the bard on her back.

—In my experience, the secret to finding things is not to look for them in the first place —I replied with a wise smile.

—Eh? —______ let out with an adorable grimace of confusion.

—What? —Paimon screamed, stopping in mid-air.

—You shouldn't obsess over it. The more you do, the less likely you are to find them —I continued explaining, puffing out my chest a little with pride—. Perhaps you’ll even find what you wanted without having searched at all, just by glancing sideways.

—And that’s your "search technique"? —Paimon looked at me as if I had gone crazy from overworking.

—Seriously, it works. In fact, that’s how I found my turtle whenever I lost it —I said with total naturalness.

—What? You had a pet turtle? —Paimon seemed to be on the verge of a short circuit.

—Yes, why do you ask? Is there something wrong with that? —I looked at her, genuinely confused.

—No, it’s just that... I never would have imagined it —Paimon responded with a nervous smile—. Paimon can't imagine Master Jean with a turtle. Mr. Diluc, you neither, right?

—Hmm? Why not? —Diluc shrugged with a glacial calm—. I had one when I was little, too. What’s so strange about that?

—It must have been adorable! —______ intervened, her eyes shining with emotion—. Turtles are so cute, you can just watch them and never get bored.

—You too, Mr. Diluc? —Paimon was in shock—. And you, ______, what things are you imagining?

—I’m imagining Diluc and Jean with their turtles, watching them eat, it must have been super cute —______ turned toward me with a pleading look—. Do you have photos of that moment?

I felt the heat rise from my neck to my ears.

—Yes... I have some, but I don't think it’s interesting —I stammered, feeling more exposed than when I face an Abyss Mage.

—It must have been adorable, I can imagine you hugging your turtle... You too, Young Diluc! —she insisted, completely ignoring that Diluc and I were turning into two human torches of pure embarrassment.

Diluc looked away toward a distant tree, cheeks aflame, while I desperately tried to find a topic of conversation that didn't involve slow reptiles or photos of my childhood. ______ kept talking about how "cute and cuddly" we were, while Venti, from her back, laughed quietly at our misfortune.

I remained slumped on ______'s back, and I have to say, it’s the most comfortable transport I’ve had in centuries. Her presence is so soft and calm that I let myself be lulled by her footsteps; I think I even fell asleep and dreamed of infinite vineyards. When we reached the temple, she woke me with a gentle nudge. And by Barbatos! It looked like a monster convention in such a narrow place. I think we spent more energy fighting in there than when we went for the Holy Lyre. My poor bard fingers ended up exhausted from firing off so many bursts.

—We’ve got it all! It wasn't easy —Paimon exclaimed, floating with a sigh of relief that almost made her deflate like a balloon.

—It’s too early to relax. We still have to take care of Stormterror —Diluc stated with that seriousness of his that could freeze a Fire Slime. —Besides, it’s possible the Fatui are planning something.

—You’re right, let's get out of here —______ murmured. She looked so exhausted that I felt a bit guilty for having made her carry me. —I’d like to rest a bit before going to help Dvalin.

—That’s a great idea! Let’s go talk for a while at "Angel’s Share" to recover some energy! —I proposed with my best smile. Clearly, my idea of "recovering energy" included a good pitcher of wine, but it wasn't the time to be picky about terms.

As we all left the temple, Jean decided to bring up the diplomatic gossip.

—Diluc, I heard the Fatui named you persona non grata —Jean said, looking at the redhead with curiosity.

—Eh? Diluc being persona non grata? —______ let out a chuckle, though she could barely keep her eyes open. The image of Diluc being kicked out of a party for being too serious was worthy of a ballad.

—Wow, what an honor —Diluc responded with sarcasm so heavy I almost saw it fall to the ground. —It’s not like they’ve named anyone worth a damn "persona grata," either...

—The Fatui delegation from Snezhnaya? Why would they want to establish relations with Diluc? —Paimon asked, scratching her head in her typical confusion.

—The Fatui don't just disturb the Knights of Favonius; they are also a significant threat to Mondstadt —Jean explained calmly. —When it comes to threats against Mondstadt, Diluc...

—That’s enough, Jean —he interrupted with a sigh. —The Knights have so many rules and restrictions that you can’t even confront that "diplomatic scum." —His voice began to rise, charged with a fury that almost sparked. —Personally, they disgust me. If I had to choose between eating a Cryo Slime and joining the Fatui... I’d rather die crushed by a meteorite!

—How dramatic that sounds... —Paimon whispered, rolling her eyes with infinite boredom. It reminded me of one of those plays that drag on for too long.

—Mm... —______, already half-asleep again and leaning her head back against my shoulder, let out an almost imperceptible laugh. —I’m sorry if I don't say anything... I’m a bit tired...

—Don't worry, my dear heroine —I whispered softly into her ear, enjoying being a stowaway on her back. —Let Master Diluc continue with his speech; at this rate, he’ll end up purifying the air with just his bad mood. You just try to take a few more steps. I promise there won't be any meteorites or diplomats at the tavern...

I stopped for a second and, with a mischievous smile, decided it was time to propose an "adult remedy."

—In fact —I added, raising my voice so the other three could hear us—, since you are a full-grown woman and have worked harder than all of them put together, I have the solution! A good swig of "Dandelion Wine" from Diluc’s personal reserve. Straight to the system! They say it revives even the dead, imagine what it will do for your fatigue! What do you say, ______? A round for the warrior?

—DON'T YOU DARE! —Jean, Diluc, and Paimon shouted in unison, stopping dead in their tracks with terrifying coordination.

—She needs real rest, not alcohol, bard! —Diluc sentenced, crossing his arms with authority. —You are not going to use my best cellar to get the person who has to save us all tomorrow drunk —Diluc growled, giving me a look that promised a very long bill. —And Paimon doesn't want to have to carry you AND ______ if you both end up seeing visions! —shrieked the little guide, indignant.

I just puffed out my cheeks, pretending to be deeply offended.

—What a lack of culture! It’s traditional medicine! —I protested dramatically.

______ let out a soft laugh, almost a sigh, and rested her head for a moment against my shoulder as we kept walking, clearly amused by the chaos I always provoke.

—Hehe... thanks, Venti... —she murmured in a sleepy voice—, but I think if I drink anything now, I’ll fall asleep in the middle of the street. You’d better save that glass for when Dvalin is safe.

—Wow! At least someone here has good taste —I whispered victoriously, shooting Diluc a look of smugness, even though I knew perfectly well she was right: she was exhausted.

______'s fatigue was now evident; her footsteps were so heavy that even I, a free spirit, could feel her exhaustion. I climbed off her back as soon as I noticed she was starting to stumble a bit. She really is an incredible woman, but even legendary heroes have a limit.

—Ehe... I think my favorite transport has run out of fuel —I said with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood, though inside I was a bit worried. Her eyes were barely staying open.

Jean approached immediately, concerned, but before she could say anything, Diluc stepped forward. Without saying a single word and with that silent efficiency that characterizes him, he positioned himself in front of her and, with a delicacy I didn't know he possessed, took her into his arms.

—I’ll handle it —Diluc said, settling her against his chest so she could rest her head on his shoulder.

It surprised me, honestly. It’s not that I didn't believe him capable, but seeing the "Darknight Hero" of Mondstadt acting as a human stretcher was quite the spectacle. Paimon stood there floating with her mouth open, and Jean could only nod with a look full of relief and some contained tenderness.

—Are you sure, Diluc? The road to the winery is still long —Jean asked in a low voice, so as not to wake ______ who had already closed her eyes as soon as she felt the warmth of Diluc’s coat.

—I’ve carried heavier things than an exhausted traveler —he responded, starting to walk with a firm but careful step, as if he were carrying the most fragile treasure in his cellar.

I walked by his side, observing ______'s face at peace. My look was playful, but I couldn't help a glimmer of worry crossing my eyes.

—Treat her well, Master Diluc —I whispered to him, walking calmly with my hands behind my head. —She has purified tears, defeated metal giants, and, hardest of all, has put up with me all day. She deserves the best rest in the world.

Diluc didn't respond, but I noticed he held her a little tighter (in a good way) and wrapped her better in his cloak to protect her from the night breeze.

—I know, bard —was all he muttered.

Paimon was floating next to ______'s head, keeping an eye out to make sure her scarf didn't fall off. The walk to the Dawn Winery became strangely silent, only interrupted by the sound of our boots and the soft wind of Mondstadt. It was a scene worthy of a song, but this time, I decided to save the melody for later. For now, silence was the best gift we could give her.

The silence in the Dawn Winery’s hall was only interrupted by the crackle of firewood in the fireplace. I allowed myself a second to observe the scene: Diluc stood by the fire with that distant gaze he usually has when analyzing threats; Paimon was nodding off at a table, and Venti... well, Venti seemed to be in his own world, caressing the strings of the Holy Lyre with a melancholy that made me question, once again, who this bard really was.

My eyes drifted toward the sofa. ______ was still fast asleep, wrapped in Diluc’s coat. She looked so peaceful that it pained me to know we would soon have to wake her to face a dragon.

—We have all the tears purified —Venti said, breaking the calm with a musical note—. But we cannot call Dvalin here. We need a place where the wind blows with the force of ancient times.

I forced myself to regain my Acting Grand Master posture and approached the table where I had spread out the regional maps.

—Venti is right. If the Fatui intercept the meeting near the city, the risk to civilians is unacceptable —I nodded, marking the more remote areas with my finger—. We need altitude and, above all, privacy.

Diluc approached, setting his glass of grape juice on the wood. His fingers pointed to an exact spot on the northeast coast.

—Starsnatch Cliff —he stated with certainty—. It is high ground with three-hundred-sixty-degree visibility. If anyone tries to approach, we will see them from miles away. Besides, it is mostly my family’s private property; there will be no Knights’ patrols to interfere.

—Starsnatch Cliff... —Venti repeated, and for a moment, his eyes shone with an ancient light—. Yes, it is perfect. Dvalin always liked the scent of the sea mixed with the cecilias that grow there.

A small whimper came from the sofa. ______ was waking up. I approached her carefully, watching as she blinked, trying to recognize where she was.

—Eh?... Starsnatch Cliff? —she asked with a thick voice, a sign that her body was still demanding more rest.

—We’re sorry to wake you, ______ —I told her with a warm smile, sitting on the edge of the sofa to offer support—. But we have a plan. Diluc and Venti have agreed that it is the best place to use the Holy Lyre.

—Hehe, you arrive just in time for the final preparations, heroine —Venti intervened, approaching with joyful little hops—. Diluc was already about to start giving orders to the furniture out of pure boredom.

I watched as ______ tried to sit up, still a bit dazed. Diluc, although pretending to review the map, couldn't take his eyes off her, ensuring she didn't get dizzy while rising. I was impressed to see how this disparate group had found a common rhythm.

—Are you ready? —I asked her, placing a hand on her shoulder—. Once we head toward the cliff, there will be no turning back. The fate of Mondstadt will be decided under the stars.

—Of course, a restful sleep is always good so one has energy, but you youngsters should sleep too, so right now all of you are going to bed —______ said with her usual soft voice, but with a determination that left us all frozen in place.

—We don’t have time, the fate of Mondstadt is at stake, if we don’t act fast... —I tried to reply, feeling the weight of duty pushing me to move forward, but I was interrupted by her before I could finish the sentence.

—But if no one sleeps, no one will have the strength to help, so off to sleep; it’s morning now, if you sleep now you will have plenty of energy —she declared with absolute calm.

I remained silent, blinking. It was the first time in a long while that someone had given me an order like that, without leaving room for discussion. I looked at Diluc, hoping he would support my sense of urgency, but he seemed just as thrown off.

—And what will you do?.. —Diluc asked, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms, though he didn't seem truly annoyed, but rather intrigued by the authority she was emanating.

—Sleep some more, I’m still a bit tired —______ laughed softly, settling back onto the sofa with total naturalness, as if the matter were closed.

Venti let out a mischievous laugh, breaking the tense silence.

—Ehe! You heard the boss! If the wind says we must rest, who am I to contradict it? —the bard said, stretching his arms eagerly—. Besides, Master Diluc, admit that those dark circles under your eyes are starting to look a bit scary.

Diluc sighed deeply, rubbing the bridge of his nose. For a moment, I thought he would refuse, but he ended up nodding slowly, with a trace of a barely visible blush on his cheeks, probably from having been included in the "youngsters" group.

—Fine —Diluc conceded in a low voice—. The rooms on the upper floor are ready. If we don’t rest, we will be a hindrance at Starsnatch Cliff.

—Oh, there are more rooms? —said ______, sitting up with a smile that lit up the hall—. I will use one of them; my back hurts a bit from sleeping somewhat poorly, haha.

She stretched carefully, letting out a small moan of relief, and then shot us a mischievous look that took us by surprise.

—If you can’t sleep, we could have a sleepover!

—Sleepover? —we all said in unison, our voices clashing due to the confusion.

I stood there processing the word. As Knights of Favonius, our nighttime meetings were usually called "watches," "vigils," or "emergency strategic meetings." Never in my life had I heard a term so... informal?

—A... sleep-o-ver? —Diluc repeated, pronouncing each syllable as if he were analyzing a new poison. He frowned, looking at ______ with a mixture of bewilderment and suspicion—. Do you mean a tactical meeting in sleepwear? Because if so, my employees are not authorized to...

—Ehe! I know what that is! —Venti interrupted, doing a little hop of excitement—. It’s when people gather to tell stories, eat sweets, and not sleep at all. It sounds like paradise! Although... is wine allowed at sleepovers?

—Paimon wants to participate! —yelled the little guide, who seemed to have already forgotten her sleepiness—. Paimon can tell the story of when she ate three Jueyun Slimes by accident!

I sighed, trying not to laugh at the look of contained panic on Diluc’s face at the idea of his solemn mansion becoming a play-camp.

—______ —I said in a soft voice, trying to maintain some order—, I think the concept of a "sleepover" is a bit... unusual for the Acting Grand Master and the owner of such a prestigious winery.

—Exactly! —Diluc nodded, regaining his composure—. My mansion is a place of business and seriousness, not a... a public dormitory for telling stories.

However, I looked at ______. She was still smiling, oblivious to the culture shock she had just caused. She seemed so convinced it was a good idea that, for a moment, I imagined Diluc in silk pajamas and myself letting my hair down to talk about things other than tax reports.

—Although... —I added, glancing at Diluc sideways with a playful glint—, if Master Diluc is afraid that we will beat him at telling scary stories, I suppose we can go to sleep separately.

Diluc tensed, crossing his arms.

—I am not afraid of anything, Jean. It is simply... inefficient.

—Then don't be afraid, but in this case, we won't stay up too late; on the contrary, I'm going to tell you a few stories so you sleep well —______ said, smiling sweetly, as if she were about to read a bedtime story to a group of preschoolers.

The silence that followed was epic. Diluc remained with his hand halfway to his glass of grape juice, processing the idea that someone would dare suggest that he, the indomitable "Darknight Hero," needed a bedtime story. For my part, I felt my dignity as Acting Grand Master begin to teeter dangerously. A sleepover? Bedtime stories? At the Dawn Winery? If Grand Master Varka were to find out about this, he would never stop laughing.

—Ehe! That sounds interesting to hear —exclaimed Venti, breaking the ice with a grin from ear to ear—. A bard always appreciates having the favor of storytelling returned! I promise not to criticize the meter of your stories!

—Yes! ______’s stories are the best! —added Paimon, hopping in the air so excitedly she almost bumped into a lamp—. Once, she told us one about a giant Slime who was a chef, and Paimon almost cried from the emotion!

I looked at Diluc. His face was a poem of internal confusion. He seemed to be debating between throwing us all out of his house for breaking decorum or accepting that, indeed, the traveler possessed a commanding power that even I couldn't match at that moment.

—This is... highly irregular —Diluc muttered, though to my surprise, he was already dragging a cushion toward the center of the room with his foot—. We are supposed to be an elite unit planning a tactical assault on an ancient dragon, not... not a group of scouts on their first night of camping.

—Oh, come on, Diluc! Don't be a killjoy —I told him, letting my ponytail fall with a sigh of surrender—. If the traveler says we need bedtime stories, take it as a strategic order. Get comfortable!

The scene was worthy of being painted: Diluc, the most serious man in all of Mondstadt, ended up sitting on the floor with a wool blanket covering his legs, trying to maintain a severe expression while sinking into a cushion far too soft for his taste. I sat down next to him, feeling strangely light. Venti curled up on a fur rug, and Paimon settled onto the bard's head as if it were a bird's nest.

—Very well —______ began, clearing her throat and putting on a solemn expression that didn't last even two seconds—. Let's see... what story shall I tell you tonight? —she said, thoughtful, only to then smile with charming mischief.

—Hmm?... What stories will you tell us? —asked Paimon, floating so close to ______'s face that she could almost taste the anticipation.

The two adults, Diluc and I, remained rigid on our respective cushions. I didn't dare look Diluc in the eye, but I could feel his discomfort radiating like a Pyro Slime about to explode. We were there, the Acting Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius and the most influential tycoon in the wine industry, sitting on the floor, wrapped in blankets and waiting for a story. We felt exactly like small children, even though our responsibilities weighed tons.

Diluc cleared his throat, adjusting the blanket over his knees with a seriousness that was almost comical under the circumstances.

—Just... try to make it a story with some tactical value, traveler —Diluc muttered, trying to save the last remnants of his dignity.

—Oh, shut up, Diluc! —I whispered, though I was just as red as a tomato—. Let her speak.

______ let out a soft laugh at our evident embarrassment and got more comfortable, causing us all to lean toward her unconsciously.

We watched as ______ sat in the middle of us, settling in with astonishing naturalness. She tenderly stroked the head of Paimon, who had already curled up in her lap, and even Venti, without any shame, lay down right there to receive some pampering too. Seeing the peace on their faces, I couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy; I wished I had that same freedom to set aside formalities for a moment.

—Hmm... I know. I’ll tell you a story I used to tell my children —______ said, smiling sweetly.

—Oh! Paimon remembers that one! —the little guide exclaimed, snuggling closer against her—. It’s the one about the little star, right? Tell it, tell it!

I was stunned. Children? ______ had children? I glanced at Diluc and noticed he had frozen, his glass of grape juice only millimeters from his lips, processing the information as if he had just received a classified intelligence report. To Paimon, it was something normal, but for the two of us, the serious "adults" of Mondstadt, it was a revelation that made us see the traveler in a completely different light. She was no longer just a powerful warrior; she was... a mother.

—Ahem... —she cleared her throat, ignoring our looks of absolute bewilderment and preparing to start.

Her voice changed. It was no longer the voice of the adventurer facing the Fatui, but a velvety, warm one, heavy with a nostalgia that filled every corner of the hall.

—A long time ago, in a place where the stars weren't in the sky but grew in people's gardens... lived a little star who was afraid to shine. This little star would hide under the leaves of a great, ancient tree, because she thought that if she shone too brightly, others would notice that her light was different from the flowers'.

I felt my eyelids begin to grow heavy. The way she stroked Venti's hair while she spoke, with that steady, rhythmic pace, was hypnotic. Diluc, who at first seemed like a marble statue of surprise, began to relax his shoulders. I saw his gaze, once as sharp as his sword, get lost in the flames of the fireplace, letting himself be wrapped in the tale.

—But one day —she continued in a whisper—, a traveler who had lost his way in the deepest darkness sat down to cry under that very same tree...

Without realizing it, my head sought the support of the sofa, and the tension I had carried for weeks at the Knights' Headquarters began to dissolve. We were there, the protectors of Mondstadt, being lulled by a story that came from another world, from another life.

I noticed that ______’s voice was becoming lower and more melodious, almost like a lullaby. She knew exactly what she was doing; she was "defeating" us all with pure tenderness.

Paimon, her eyes already closed, let out a sleepy sigh and murmured: —And... and the little star had... had the shape of... of a moon cake... right?

______ let out an almost inaudible giggle and gave the little one one last pat before continuing.

—Yes, Paimon, a very bright little moon cake —she whispered, looking at Diluc and me with a complicity that made me shiver.

I saw Diluc trying to maintain his posture, but it was a losing battle. His head began to tilt slowly to one side, and his breathing became deep and rhythmic. I tried to open my eyes one more time, wanting to record this strange and warm moment in my memory, but the softness of the story and the warmth of the fire were stronger than my will.

—Rest now, my children... —was the last thing I heard ______ say, as I felt the weight of the world finally vanish into the darkness of a deep sleep.

The silence of the Dawn Winery settled over the room, heavy and comforting. I watched them, these remarkable people who held the fate of Mondstadt on their shoulders, now rendered vulnerable and human by the simple, fragile necessity of sleep. It felt as if I were the guardian of a very special, fleeting peace.

I moved with the utmost care, ensuring I didn't disturb the small, rhythmic breathing of Paimon or the serene, slumbering form of Venti, who looked far less like a mischievous deity and more like a weary child. My hand lingered on the fabric of Diluc’s coat, still draped over my shoulders; it carried a faint scent of embers and noble wood—a grounding, steady presence even in the stillness of the night.

The nostalgia that pulled at my chest wasn't a sharp pain, but a deep, aching tide. It brought back memories of cosmic horizons and celestial paths long walked, back when the universe felt infinite and my children were the only stars I ever needed to follow. Teyvat is a world of elemental wonders and structured fates, but it lacks the familiar rhythm of the home I lost.

I reached up, wiping away that stray tear before it could fall and disturb the quiet, and let my gaze settle on the constellations outside the window. They burned with a different fire here—distant, brilliant, and utterly indifferent to the loneliness of a traveler.

—You are the echoes of everything I hold dear —I whispered into the shadows, my voice barely audible above the crackle of the dying embers.

I leaned my head back against the sofa, closing my eyes for just a moment to let the exhaustion finally have its way with me. I knew that when the first light of dawn touched the vineyards, I would have to rise. I would have to be the person they needed me to be: the one with the answers, the one who could bridge the gap between their fractured world and the hope they desperately sought.

But for these few remaining hours, I let the weight of the universe slip from my shoulders. I was not a traveler, nor a hero, nor a mystery to be solved. I was simply a mother resting in the quiet, watching over the dreams of those who were, for a little while, my own.

Previous part:

As soon as they left the Knights of Favonius headquarters, they set off toward one of the abandoned temples. Upon reaching the vicinity, she saw Amber raise her arm and wave it energetically to signal the way; she approached her at a quick pace, observing the ruins that rose before them.

—Long ago, these temples were vital to the people of Mondstadt —Amber explained, trying to provide context as they moved forward—, but as the years passed, people stopped visiting them and they fell into decay and abandonment. Even Stormterror abandoned its own temple.

—Wait... Stormterror had its own temple? —she asked, stopping for a second and crossing her arms, deep in thought. The idea that this dragon had been a deity dedicated to the people caused her deep unease.

—Paimon can’t believe it! —exclaimed her little guide, kicking the air in indignation—. That this creature had its own place of worship and is now attacking the capital like this!

—Yes... I find it hard to grasp as well —Amber admitted, bringing a hand to her chest with a gesture of sorrow—. But Stormterror was, a long time ago, one of the Four Winds... It was they who looked after the people of Mondstadt.

Amber fell silent for a moment, sharpening her senses.

—Listen... can you feel it? The air here is strange, very different from the city’s.

—Now that Paimon is paying attention, you’re right —Paimon agreed, bringing a hand to her chest—. The air feels... heavy.

She felt a chill run down her spine. Her instincts screamed that they were not alone. She invoked her light sword, letting the steel shine under the dim light of the ruins.

—Be very careful, both of you. Amber, Paimon, stay alert —she ordered in a firm voice—. If I’m not mistaken, there are more creatures here that could be stalking us. Do not stray from my side.

Amber froze for a second, blinking in surprise with her cheeks tinting a soft red at seeing her determination.

—Hey! That’s my line! —she protested, puffing out her cheeks in a playful pout—. I’m supposed to be the Knight here, and the one who protects you!

They entered the temple, and it must be admitted that it was not at all what she had imagined. At least, that was the case for her. Instead of a ceremonial structure, they were greeted by a space that looked more like an underground cave, with wide corridors and natural chambers. The ceilings were tinged with a dark reddish tone, as if the rock had been scorched or was permeated with a strange energy.

To access the main door, they had to activate a sort of ancient panel that, with a hum, opened the way. However, the path was partially blocked by a tangle of dense herbs that rose like a vegetable wall.

—Take a step back, I’ll handle this —Amber said with determination.

Before Paimon or she could react, Amber invoked her Pyro ability. A small, adorable rabbit-shaped baron appeared for an instant before a blast of controlled fire quickly burned the undergrowth, opening a passable path.

—Done! Let’s go —she added, turning around with a smile.

—I’m right behind you, Amber —she replied, nodding.

Her eyes didn't stop scanning the place, still marveled by the strange beauty of that forgotten space. She felt a mixture of awe and melancholy thinking that such an imposing site had been abandoned by those it once protected. The heaviness in the air, however, only increased her caution, reminding her that they were not there for sightseeing.

Amber continued to clear the way, eliminating the undergrowth and overcoming obstacles with the agility of an outrider. They advanced in silence until, finally, they stumbled upon what looked like an improvised Hilichurl camp. It wasn't a common settlement; it gave the impression that they were zealously guarding the entrance, as if they had orders to prevent anyone from disturbing the temple at all costs.

—Amber... —she tried to call her to plot a plan, but before she could finish the sentence, she had already launched into the attack with her bow.

She sighed with a mixture of resignation and tenderness, drawing her sword to keep up with her. She couldn't leave her alone in this.

—Careful! They are much more aggressive than usual! —Amber warned while dodging a club and firing an arrow imbued with fire.

Just as they managed to defeat the first group, the sound of gears resonated in the hall, and a heavy stone door slid open, letting out a new horde of enemies that quickly surrounded them.

—There are too many! Paimon didn't think we’d see so many Hilichurls in one place! —shrieked Paimon, waving her arms in despair while seeking shelter behind her.

—Don’t fear, Paimon. We will protect you —she told her, dedicating a sweet smile to calm her agitation, although her eyes never lost sight of the danger.

—That’s right! —Amber seconded enthusiastically—. It’s time to use my explosive puppet: Baron Bunny!!

Here is the translation into English using the requested em dash (—) for dialogue:

With an agile movement, she threw the little doll into the center of the enemy group. Baron Bunny began to dance frantically, capturing all of the monsters' attention.

—It’s very adorable, Baron Bunny —I commented, letting out a soft laugh while I prepared for the next move.

—Thanks! But besides being cute, it’s an explosive help! —Amber responded with pride.

A second later, the puppet exploded in a bright flare, sending the Hilichurls flying and clearing the path. I took advantage of the confusion to strike at those remaining on their feet, feeling the air around me begin to vibrate with a new energy, responding to my will.

We continued advancing through the depths of the temple, Amber and I fighting side by side against the Hilichurls. Despite the adrenaline of combat, I couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness; my intuition allowed me to perceive the genuine fear emanating from each of those creatures. I wondered, with a sinking heart, what they could be so afraid of to be forced to stay there, fighting with an almost suicidal desperation against us.

Finally, we arrived at a spacious chamber that housed an ancient structure engraved with the Pyro emblem.

—If Paimon isn't wrong, that’s a Pyro Monument, right? —Paimon asked, floating curiously around the stone totem.

—Exactly! We only need the power of a Vision to activate it —Amber replied with confidence.

She tensed her bow elegantly and fired an arrow imbued with flames. Upon impact, the monument shone with a crimson light and, suddenly, a powerful gust of ascending air erupted from the ground, ruffling our clothes forcefully.

—Incredible... —I whispered, marveled by the way the elements responded to the technology of this world.

—Let’s go! —Amber exclaimed, jumping without hesitation into the current of air and deploying her wings to rise.

I imitated her movement immediately, feeling how the wind propelled me toward the highest part of the temple. Upon reaching the upper platform, we stopped in our tracks. Floating in front of us was a colossal rock, surrounded by dark and turbulent energy that made the air vibrate erratically.

—What is that? —I asked, feeling a chill upon noticing the impurity of that energy.

—It’s the Dragon’s Breath... —Amber murmured, putting a hand to her chin with a thoughtful gesture—. I wonder if that is where so much power comes from. Yes, it must be that... We have to destroy it.

I stepped forward, unsheathing my sword while I felt the Anemo wind begin to swirl at the tip of my steel, responding to my protective will.

—Leave it to me, Amber —I declared in a firm voice.

I approached that rock and, with a precise and firm movement, destroyed it with a clean cut of my sword. As it shattered, the structure released a gust of wind so powerful that it forced us to cover our faces for a second, as if the temple were letting out one last sigh of relief.

—Phew... how exhausting —Amber exhaled, resting her hands on her waist while she caught her breath—. Thank you, _____. With this, we’ve already taken a huge weight off Jean’s shoulders —she added, dedicating a much more relieved smile to me.

She stood looking at the ruins for a moment, and her expression became somewhat nostalgic.

—A long time ago, before Stormterror started attacking Mondstadt, we could defend the city without any problem... —she commented with a trace of sadness in her voice—. But now, "the winds have changed, so our strategy must also change."

—That phrase sounds very philosophical —I commented, crossing my arms while I looked at her with a soft and amused smile—. Did you invent it, Amber?

—Eh? No, no! —she responded immediately, blushing to the tips of her ears—. It’s something Lisa likes to say all the time. As I was saying... in fact, you should ask her about the Four Winds. Lisa knows much more than I do and knows all the historical details —she added, scratching the back of her neck with an embarrassed gesture.

—Pfff... alright, Amber. Don’t worry —I said, letting out a small laugh at her reaction—. Let’s get out of here, we still have a lot of work ahead if we want to restore peace to this region.

I turned around and began to walk toward the exit of the temple, feeling how the heaviness of the air had finally dissipated.

—Yes! Hey, wait for me! —Amber shouted, coming out of her daze and running to catch up with me.

After saying goodbye to Amber at the exit of the first temple, she set off toward the second meeting point. Upon arriving, Kaeya’s figure was silhouetted against the ancient stones; he was waiting for her with his arms crossed and that enigmatic smile that seemed to never leave him.

—You arrived faster than I had thought, Madam —he said while uncrossing his arms, observing her with renewed interest.

—I don’t like to keep people waiting, much less when time is of the essence in a situation like this —she replied, dedicating a sweet smile to him, though one loaded with determination.

Suddenly, Kaeya’s countenance changed. His posture became more rigid and his gaze sharper.

—Can you also smell that? —he asked, lowering his voice.

—Yes... It smells like something is burning —she replied, closing her eyes for an instant to perceive the environment—. But I can also feel an energy much denser and stronger than in the previous temple.

She placed a hand on her chest, feeling how that dark vibration tried to disturb the peace of the air. Kaeya let out a small, dry laugh, although his eyes did not lose their seriousness.

—That’s right. Inside there must be Slimes, Hilichurls... and remnants of the power that fuels Stormterror —he commented with a touch of irony—. Haha, it must be very "lively" in there. Are you ready to go in, Madam?

—Paimon is a little scared by the energy radiating from this place! —shrieked her little companion, trembling as she floated near her shoulder.

—Oh, Paimon... —she whispered tenderly. Without hesitation, she drew the fairy toward her and surrounded her with a protective embrace, cradling her with care. —Relax. I will protect both of you.

Kaeya remained silent for a second. His usual smile faltered, and his eyes showed a spark of genuine surprise at her declaration. Clearly, he wasn't accustomed to someone including him in their circle of protection, much less with such maternal naturalness. However, she said nothing more and simply looked at the temple entrance, ready for whatever might come out of there.

Once they crossed the temple threshold, the atmosphere became icy and oppressive. Kaeya positioned himself by her side, walking with an almost feline confidence. He turned toward her, maintaining that smile that always seemed to hide a second meaning.

—Madam, allow me to show you the combat tactics of the Knights of Favonius —he said, bringing a hand to the hilt of his sword with impeccable elegance.

She returned his gaze with a serene look, maintaining her relaxed posture. She had seen empires fall and stars be born, but there was something about the young man’s contained enthusiasm that she found genuinely charming.

—Alright, young man —she replied, crossing her arms with a sweet, expectant smile—. Show me those combat tactics, please.

Kaeya arched an eyebrow at being called "young man," but he did not lose his composure. On the contrary, it seemed to motivate him to show off even more. In front of them, a group of Hydro Slimes and Hilichurls armed with wooden shields emerged from the shadows of the corridor.

—Observe carefully —he murmured.

In the blink of an eye, Kaeya lunged forward. His sword traced arcs of frost in the air, releasing gusts of Cryo energy that instantly froze the water of the Slimes, immobilizing them on the spot. He moved with surgical precision, as if the battlefield were a ballroom and he knew every step of the choreography.

She remained there, observing each of his movements, evaluating not only his technique but the strength of his will.

Upon looking up toward the highest area of the structure, she immediately understood that the dynamic would be the same as in the previous temple. The corrupt energy seemed to concentrate at the highest point.

—I suppose the core of Stormterror’s power is located at the top of the temple —Kaeya commented, stopping his weapon from pointing and relaxing his shoulders.

—You are very quick to deduce, Captain —she replied, crossing her arms while evaluating the temple’s height with serenity.

—It’s not deduction, Madam. It’s experience —he retorted with a self-satisfied smile, resuming the march with confident steps.

—Experience? —Paimon asked, floating from one side to the other with an expression of total confusion.

—That’s right... It’s the type of experience one gains after years of dealing with similar situations —he explained, stopping for an instant to observe the path opening before them—. Wow... it seems it will be easier than I expected.

—Paimon still doesn't understand what you’re talking about! —protested her little guide, making a playful pout while waving her hands in the air.

—Just watch —declared Kaeya.

Without warning, he jumped from the platform they were on, landing with impeccable grace in front of a numerous group of Hilichurls. Before the monsters could react, he drew his sword and released a burst of Cryo energy so intense that it froze them instantly, turning them into ice statues that shattered under his next blow.

—Fascinating —she commented in a calm voice, landing beside him just as the last fragment of ice fell to the ground.

Here is the translation in the third person:

They continued their path, clearing every corridor of the creatures that infested the temple, until they finally reached the highest area. Without hesitation, she approached the core of corrupt energy and destroyed it with a precise slash of her sword. As she watched the evil light fade away, she heard the echo of rhythmic applause behind her.

—Bravo! That truly was a great show —Kaeya exclaimed with a radiant smile—. Who would have thought you are a knight in the fullest sense of the word? The battles you have fought here today are worthy of admiration.

—Enough, young man, you will make me blush —she replied, bringing her hands to her cheeks with a gesture of modesty—. It really wasn't anything; I simply like to help where I can —she added, letting out a soft laugh.

However, she did not want his own merits to remain in the shadows. She turned toward him and looked at him steadily.

—But let’s not downplay your work, Captain Kaeya. You did an excellent job guiding us and fighting with such elegance. You are also worthy of the highest praise.

She noticed out of the corner of her eye how, for an instant, Kaeya’s mask of confidence cracked. A slight blush appeared on his cheeks and he looked away, clearing his throat to attempt to recover his usual composure.

—Do not say that, Madam —he retorted, regaining his smile—. I am sure that the feats you performed in the capital will be told from generation to generation here in Mondstadt.

He paused, softening the tone of his voice.

—If you ever have the time, I would like to invite you for a glass of wine. I know a very cozy tavern...

—I am sure your stories will be told as well, Captain —she replied with a sweet smile—. It will be an honor to accept that invitation. I will look forward to it.

—Good. Go take care of what remains; I will take care of the final details here —he said, crossing his arms with his characteristic lopsided smile.

—Alright! See you! —Paimon exclaimed, waving her hand with joy.

—Take great care, Captain Kaeya. We will see you later —she added, dedicating one last kind look to him before leaving the temple alongside Paimon.

Here is the narration from Kaeya’s perspective, in English:

I remained silent, watching the void until the echo of the Traveler’s footsteps faded away completely into the gloom of the temple. As soon as I was sure there was no trace of her presence left, I let the mask drop. My kind expression evaporated, replaced by the coldness I reserve for true threats. I tightened my jaw, feeling the weight of suspicion, and without deigning to turn around completely, I sighed with annoyance.

—Come out already. I know you have been following us for quite a while —I declared. I crossed my arms, feeling a dangerous calm course through my veins—the kind of calm that precedes a storm.

From the dense shadows surrounding the ruined pillars, a small, hooded figure emerged, floating with that arrogance peculiar to its kind. The Hydro Abyss Mage let out a high-pitched, mocking giggle, swinging its magic staff in the air while whispering words in an ancient tongue—a language that feels like poison to the ears.

—So, it is you who are behind all of this... —I said, dropping my voice several octaves. I felt my eyes shine with a hostility I had been careful to hide from the Traveler; here, there was no need to act.

—Gohus, Chiso Vonph... —the mage muttered, ignoring my words entirely, as if my presence were a mere nuisance to its plans.

Before that creature could complete its incantation or unleash another one of its detestable taunts, a scorching flare tore through the temple’s darkness, illuminating the place with a fierce glow. The Pyro fire impacted directly against the mage’s water shield, evaporating it instantly into a cloud of steam. A young man with fiery red hair emerged from the shadows, wielding an imposing greatsword with devastating force. Without a word, and with a relentless coldness that felt strangely familiar, he delivered a final blow that reduced the enemy to ashes.

Once the mage was defeated, the newcomer made his weapon disappear in a flash of light, but his gaze remained burning with contempt as he turned toward me.

—Knights of Favonius... always so useless —he declared in a deep voice, heavy with bitterness, casting a side-glance at me.

I, far from being rattled, let out a small laugh and began to clap with a slow, deliberate pace that only served to irritate him further.

—Your insults don’t offend me, Diluc —I replied, stopping my applause to cross my arms, observing him with a spark of amusement in my only visible eye—. In fact, the mere fact that you are here, doing the dirty work, makes things much more interesting.

Finally, they reached the last of the abandoned wind temples. As she approached the entrance, she spotted an elegant figure contrasting with the gray ruins: it was Miss Lisa, who was waiting for them with absolute calm, as if time did not affect her.

—Miss Lisa, I am so sorry if we took so long to arrive —she said, performing a slight, respectful bow as a sign of apology.

Lisa observed her and her face lit up with one of her characteristic smiles, laden with a gleam that was both mischievous and maternal at once.

—Not at all, darling. You have no reason to apologize —she responded with her velvety voice—. On the contrary, I am deeply moved that someone as special as you is willing to help us with such a dangerous task.

She felt her cheeks warm slightly at the compliment. There was something in the way Lisa spoke that made one feel like the center of her attention.

—Uh... hehehe, you are very kind, Miss Lisa —she replied, letting out a small, nervous laugh while trying to regain her composure.

—My, my... In addition to being brave, you are modest —she added, taking a step toward the interior of the temple—. But let us not waste any more time, sweetheart. The air in here is charged with a very... interesting electricity. Will you accompany me?

—It will be an honor, Miss Lisa —she replied with a soft smile, as they crossed the temple’s threshold together.

Once inside, the atmosphere was different from the other places; one could feel a static electricity that made the hair on her arms stand up. Despite the danger, Lisa and she walked along chatting naturally, exchanging travel anecdotes and little stories. Lisa explained the importance of these sanctuaries with her usual wisdom until, finally, they reached the deepest chamber of the temple.

—We have finally arrived. I dare say this was a bit more complicated than I imagined —Lisa commented, maintaining her calm smile but with her gaze fixed on the corrupt core—. Could you take care of it, sweetheart?

—Hehe, it will be my pleasure —she responded with a small laugh. She summoned her sword and, concentrating her energy, destroyed the stone that held Stormterror's power with a single strike.

—Magnificent, sweetheart —Lisa said, but then her smile vanished, replaced by an expression of analytical seriousness that she rarely showed. She turned toward Paimon and her with solemnity—. The East Dragon, the South Lion, the North Wolf, and the West Falcon... They were the Four Winds that watched over Mondstadt for centuries. All of them are linked to Barbatos, the Anemo Archon.

She paused, and the weight of her words seemed to chill the air in the room.

—Dvalin... that is Stormterror’s true name.

—It’s a very pretty name, actually —she commented in a low voice, trying to soften the tension in the environment, although her mind was already working on the implications of what she had just heard.

—But that doesn't explain why he suddenly started attacking Mondstadt —Paimon intervened, crossing her arms with a suspicious expression—. To Paimon, all of this seems very strange!

—But if he is someone who should protect this nation... then why did he start to hate it? —she asked, crossing her arms. The idea of a protector turning into an executioner felt painfully familiar, as if it resonated with something hidden in her own memories.

Lisa lowered her gaze for a brief moment, and a halo of melancholy crossed her eyes.

—As a resident of Mondstadt, it is difficult to talk about the subject —she replied with a soft sigh. She searched through her belongings and, with an elegant movement, extended a book toward her—. Here, darling. You can read it for yourself. It contains the chronicles of what happened hundreds of years ago.

She took the tome with care, feeling the weight of history in her hands.

—Thank you, Lisa —she murmured.

—You are most welcome, sweetheart. Now, if you will excuse me, I must return to the library to archive what we have discovered today —she said, regaining part of her usual sparkle.

With a parting gesture and one last look charged with meaning, Lisa withdrew from the spot, leaving her alone with Paimon in the silence of the now-purified temple. She opened the book slowly, letting the scent of ancient paper envelop her, ready to discover what it was that broke the heart of the great dragon Dvalin.

As soon as Paimon and she crossed the threshold to the outside of the temple, the first thing they noticed was the change in the atmosphere. The sky, which until recently had been a mantle of gray and threatening clouds, was beginning to clear, and the violent wind that had been besieging Mondstadt simply vanished, leaving a soft, warm breeze in its place.

—What a relief... it seems the situation is finally improving for the citizens of Mondstadt —she said, placing a hand on her chest and letting out a long sigh of relief. Feeling the calm of nature returned a peace to her that she had not realized she needed.

—Paimon totally agrees! —exclaimed her little friend, doing a pirouette in the air with a radiant smile—. Mondstadt doesn't seem like such a scary place anymore!

—Let's head back to the city —she proposed, while tucking the book Lisa had given her among her belongings—. Kaeya mentioned he wanted us to meet there after finishing with the temples, do you remember?

—Yes! Paimon remembers it perfectly! —she responded enthusiastically, beginning to float at full speed in the direction of the capital's walls—. Come on, _____! Surely there will be a good meal waiting for us for all our hard work!

She smiled at her companion’s inexhaustible energy and began to walk after her. As they advanced along the path toward the gates of Mondstadt, she could not stop thinking about what Lisa had entrusted to her. The name "Dvalin" resonated in her mind, and she knew that, even though the storm had stopped, the true story was only just beginning to unfold.

Paimon and I walked back to the city, enjoying the new calm that reigned in the surroundings. Upon crossing the great gates of Mondstadt, we spotted the Acting Grand Master Jean in the distance. She was immersed in a conversation with another woman who wore elegant purple clothing and an air of superiority that was noticeable even from afar. The subject seemed to be extremely serious; in fact, I saw how Jean's usually serene expression transformed into a grimace of evident anger and frustration.

As soon as the woman in purple attire left with a haughty stride, Paimon and I approached her.

—It seems that conversation put you in a bad mood, Miss Jean —I commented in a calm voice, trying to offer a comforting tone.

—Ah! —Jean gave a small start, surprised by our presence. Upon recognizing us, she sighed deeply and tried to regain her composure. —You have returned... Thank you once again for your help, Miss _____ —she said, performing a slight, formal bow—. The flow of energy in the ley lines has stabilized thanks to you, and the immediate threat of Stormterror has dissipated for now. I thank you with all my heart.

—Haha, Miss Jean... please, just call me _____ —I responded with a soft smile, trying to break down some of her formality—. And you don’t have to thank me; for me, it was a true pleasure to be able to help.

I took a step closer, observing the dark circles under her eyes and the tension in her shoulders with care.

—Your eyes look very tired... —I added in a maternal and concerned tone—. Has something else happened?

Jean remained silent for a moment, lowering her gaze. She seemed to be debating between maintaining her professional facade or venting to the person who had just saved her city.

—You see, _____... with everything that has happened with Stormterror, the pressure from the diplomatic delegation is becoming increasingly difficult to ignore —Jean explained, crossing her arms with a bitter gesture.

—Delegation? Are they from Inazuma or Liyue? —Paimon asked, imitating Jean's gesture and frowning with curiosity.

—No, they are from Snezhnaya, the nation that venerates the Cryo Archon —Jean replied, regaining her stern expression—. Their delegates have a special name: the Fatui. Had you heard of them before?

—Paimon has! Paimon knows they are super dangerous and infamous! —my little companion shrieked, quickly hiding behind my back with evident fear.

Jean sighed, revealing part of the tense conversation she had just had.

—They do not believe that saving the dragon is an option. They have directly... proposed killing Stormterror as the only solution.

—Kill him? —I repeated, feeling a pang of concern and anger in my chest. I looked at Jean fixedly—. Is that what they recommended to you?... Killing him would solve nothing. For what purpose would they want to destroy a protector of Mondstadt?

—Because the worshippers of the Cryo Archon have always coveted the power of the Anemo Archon... I do not think their intentions toward our city are noble —Jean admitted, her gaze heavy with concern for the future of her people.

I approached her with a firm but calm step. Breaking all protocols of chivalry, I extended my hand and stroked her hair with maternal sweetness, trying to transmit the peace she so desperately needed.

—Jean... —I whispered, as my fingers combed through her blonde locks—. Relax. We will not allow the Fatui to achieve their plans with Stormterror. But, speaking of power... I need to talk to you in private at the Knights' Headquarters, if possible.

Jean stood paralyzed for a moment, completely disarmed by my gesture. Her cheeks flushed a deep red and her eyes widened, losing her air of Acting Grand Master for an instant.

—A-ah... o-of course! —she managed to articulate, stuttering slightly from the surprise—. Please, follow me...

We walked in silence toward the Knights of Favonius Headquarters, crossing the hallways under the respectful gazes of the guards, until we finally took refuge in Jean’s office. Once the door closed behind us, ensuring our privacy, I decided to show them the discovery.

—You see, this is what I wanted to show you —I said, invoking the crimson crystal I had kept. The object floated in the air, pulsing with a murky and erratic glow.

—Hmm... the crystal gives off a very strange energy, almost dense —Jean commented, frowning while crossing her arms. She turned toward the librarian with confidence. —Lisa, do you think you can analyze it?

—Let me see... —Lisa murmured, approaching with scientific curiosity. She observed the crystal intently, her green eyes shining with intensity. —I can see that the interior is full of impurities... If I perform a deeper inspection at the library using ancient texts, perhaps I can discover exactly what it is. If I have any progress, I will let you know immediately.

Lisa extended a hand, attempting to touch the surface of the crystal to feel its elemental flow.

—Ouch! —she suddenly exclaimed, quickly withdrawing her hand and shaking it slightly.

—Lisa? —Jean stepped forward, worried.

—I barely grazed it and felt a painful sting... —Lisa explained, bringing her hand to her chest while looking at the crystal with a mixture of respect and caution. Then, she fixed her gaze on the traveler, with an expression of genuine concern. —Tell me one thing, darling... Did it not hurt you at all when you first picked it up?

She remained silent for a moment, looking at her own hands. The crystal, which for Lisa was like touching a burning ember or an electric shock, was to her nothing more than a cold, heavy stone. She had felt no trace of that "impurity" trying to harm her.

—No... in fact, I felt absolutely nothing —she replied, shaking her head while crossing her arms, observing the crystal that still floated with its impure glow.

—That is truly strange... You also possess elemental powers, but it seems you react differently than we do —Lisa murmured. Both she and Jean fixed their gazes on her, with a curiosity that went beyond the professional. —I wonder... what is it that makes you so special, darling?

She remained silent for an instant, feeling the weight of her secret. After a sigh laden with nostalgia, she decided it was time to trust them. She told them the truth: she spoke to them of the stars, of her journey across the worlds, and of how she ended up stranded in Teyvat, separated from the things she held most dear.

—I see... It is a difficult story to process, I don’t know what to think, really —Jean confessed, uncrossing her arms as she assimilated her words. She stood tall with solemnity, placed a hand over her heart, and looked at her with renewed devotion. —_____, on behalf of the Knights of Favonius, I am compelled to formally ask for your help once more. Please, accept the title of Honorary Knight of our order... and with it, the eternal gratitude of the Acting Grand Master.

—Honorary Knight of Favonius?! —Paimon exclaimed, spinning in the air with her eyes wide as saucers—. That sounds incredibly important!

—Please, accept —Jean insisted with a soft smile—. We will need your help to find answers to this mystery. Dvalin's fury, the mysterious crystals... I am convinced that you are the key to peace finally returning to Mondstadt.

—I know how painful it is to lose a home —she responded in a firm voice, while a spark of determination shone in her eyes—. So, I will help gladly. I promise to do my best to protect yours.

—What a darling person you are, dear —Lisa said, her gaze having become much warmer and more protective.

—Thank you, _____. May the wind clear your gaze so that you may see the truth with clarity —Jean declared, sealing the pact with her nation's blessing.

She and Paimon left the Knights of Favonius Headquarters, finally feeling the sun of Mondstadt after their talk with Jean and Lisa. She walked toward a slightly more secluded corner, where Paimon waited for her, floating with an unusually serious expression.

—The dragon and the crystal weren't the only strange thing we saw upon arriving —Paimon said, crossing her arms over her chest—. We still have to find something else, right?

—Are you talking about the boy who was with the dragon in the forest? —she asked, imitating her and crossing her arms—. He didn't look like a bad person, really. There was something in the way he spoke to Dvalin that felt... close, almost intimate.

—Paimon was worried you wouldn't remember him! —she exclaimed with a sigh of relief—. That boy in green, the one who seemed to be calming Stormterror... Look! He looks exactly like the one running over there!

Paimon extended her arm, pointing her finger toward a silhouette moving with almost superhuman agility through the crowd. A bard in green attire and a flowing cape was running toward one of the side plazas, moving as light as a leaf carried by the wind.

She felt a spark of curiosity ignite within her. If that boy had any connection to Dvalin, perhaps he held the answers that neither Lisa’s books nor Jean’s position could offer her.

—Paimon, I am sure it is the same person —she declared, without taking her eyes off the green silhouette slipping through the stone alleys of Mondstadt.

Without waiting for a response, she lunged after him. Her steps were firm and swift, moving with a grace that contrasted with the hurry of the people at the market. The boy in green moved in an almost unreal way; he did not seem to be running, but rather letting himself be carried by the currents of air blowing between the buildings. He turned a corner near the fountain and climbed the stairs leading to the cathedral plaza with astonishing lightness.

—Wait for Paimon! —she heard her companion’s high-pitched cry behind her.

Poor Paimon was waving her little hands, floating at full speed and narrowly dodging a couple of distracted citizens. Her face was red from the effort of keeping up the pace.

—You’re going too fast! Paimon’s going to lose her lungs! —she protested, even though she technically didn't use them to fly.

She ignored the complaints with an amused smile, focused on not losing sight of that green cape fluttering like a flag. She knew that the boy in green was hiding something important, and she was not about to let him vanish like the wind before getting some answers. Upon reaching the top of the stairs, she saw him stop right in front of the imposing statue of the Anemo Archon, playing a melody and telling a story.

(The story of the Heavenly Dragon, the Age of Shadows, and the Betrayal was told, concluding in the silence of the plaza.)

As soon as the bard finished his tale, she stepped forward. He turned toward them, and for a second, his expression of serenity transformed into one of genuine surprise.

—Wait... You are... —he looked at them intently, as if he were fitting pieces together in his memory—. Right! You are the ones who frightened Dvalin in the forest.

—I apologize for that —she replied, performing a slight, elegant bow—. It was not our intention to scare your friend.

She straightened up and observed him steadily. There was something in his aura, a lightness that did not belong to mortals, an essence that resonated with the same wind that had just purified the city.

—Young Anemo Archon? —she asked in a whisper, tilting her head with a spark of confusion and recognition.

—Eh? —Venti blinked and let out a chuckle, feigning total bewilderment while crossing his arms proudly—. You must be confusing me, my dear. I am Venti, the bard. To be precise, the three-time winner of the title "Mondstadt’s Most Popular Bard"!

—Pfft... my dear child —she said, letting out a soft laugh while maintaining a gaze that indicated she knew much more than she was saying—. You cannot fool me so easily. But that is fine, I will play along, "young bard."

—Haha... You are certainly amusing, Madam...? —Venti left the sentence hanging, waiting with sparkling eyes.

—_____. That is my name. A pleasure, Venti the Bard —she replied with a warm smile.

—Muy bien, _____. ¿En qué puedo ayudarles?

—If you already know who we are, there is no need for many explanations! —Paimon intervened, crossing her arms and floating agitatedly—. We want to know what is happening with Stormterror!

—Eh? Who? —Venti smiled, playing dumb with an almost irritating mastery.

—Don't play the fool! —Paimon shrieked, putting her hands on her waist before turning toward her—. _____, can you show him?

—No veo por qué no; después de todo, conoce a Dvalin personalmente —dijo ella. Invocó el cristal que antes había sido de un carmesí corrupto, pero para su sorpresa, ahora brillaba con un color turquesa puro y cristalino.

— Eh?

Venti set aside his playful demeanor for a moment. His eyes fixed on the glowing gem with a mixture of sadness and awe.

—That... that belongs to Dvalin —he murmured, crossing his arms—. It is a tear of suffering.

—A tear? —Paimon repeated, completely bewildered.

—In the past, Dvalin was like a tender child... but now he has become a resentful being, consumed by a rage that does not belong to him —Venti explained in a voice heavy with ancient sadness. He extended his hand and summoned another crystallized tear, but this one throbbed with a dark, toxic red—. I also have one of his tears, but my power is not enough to heal this wound... Do you think you could purify it, _____?

His green eyes gazed at her with a spark of pure hope, the look of someone who has waited a very long time for a miracle.

She reached out, her fingers closing gently around the tainted, pulsing gem. As soon as she made contact, she felt the same intense, discordant vibration that she had experienced in the temples, but this time it was far more personal. It wasn't just energy; it was agony. Without a word, she closed her eyes and let her own inner light—that resonance she had carried since her arrival in this world—flow into the stone. The red hue struggled against the influx, but slowly, almost reluctantly, it began to fade, replaced by a clear, serene glow.

—There... —she whispered, opening her eyes to reveal the now-translucent tear resting in her palm.

Venti gasped, his usual nonchalance replaced by a look of genuine shock. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he took the purified tear.

—You really are something else, _____ —he murmured, a small, sad smile gracing his lips—. You’ve done in seconds what I couldn't achieve with all my songs. This... this could be the key to saving him. But the path ahead is still treacherous. We have more to do if we are to truly reach Dvalin's heart.

—Let me try —she replied calmly.

She extended her hands and took the crimson tear delicately, as if she were holding a wounded bird. The moment her fingers wrapped around the crystal, a warm energy began to emanate from her chest. A soft glow started to envelop both of them, and the air around them transformed: it was no longer a common breeze, but a rhythmic whisper of the wind that seemed to sing a forgotten lullaby.

Before the astonished eyes of Venti and Paimon, the red corruption began to recede, evaporating like mist under the sun. The color of the crystal changed completely, transforming into a soft, translucent blue that radiated a peace so profound it seemed capable of soothing the soul of anyone who looked upon it.

—Your abilities are truly impressive —Venti said, and for a moment, his eternal smile became something much deeper and more sincere—. A person like you is destined to appear in a bard’s verses.

He summoned his lyre, and his fingers caressed the strings, letting out a brief but ominous melody.

—"A heroine must stand on the side of light, for should she fall to the side of dark, the disaster shall be of great magnitude" —he recited in a melancholic voice. He stopped playing abruptly and clenched his fists, his gaze lost on the horizon—. But I have no time for composing songs now. Although Dvalin has not been defeated, his life will soon fade away... He will be consumed by the flames of his own rage if we do not act.

Seeing the helplessness in the eyes of that bard, who hid a burden as old as the world, moved her. She approached him and, with the same tenderness she had shown Jean, gently stroked his hair.

—Venti... —she whispered with a sweet smile—. Relax. I will help you prevent that. I know how painful it is to lose a loved one, to feel like you can do nothing to help them... to feel that powerlessness. I won't let things end this way, I promise you. Trust in me, young bard.

Venti was struck dumb. For an instant, the "God of Freedom" looked vulnerable before such maternal warmth.

—A-ah... I... —he cleared his throat, attempting to regain his playful facade as a faint glint of determination returned to his eyes—. It is time for me to do something as well.

—And what exactly are you planning? —Paimon asked, floating by with curiosity.

—Seeing the dragon’s tear reminded me of an old friend —he replied with a smile tinged with nostalgia.

—An old friend? —Paimon repeated, more confused than before—. Who?

—Hehehe, well, I’m off! —Venti exclaimed, completely ignoring the question as he began to walk away with light steps.

—Hey! Wait! Where are you going?! —Paimon shrieked, unsettled by the mystery.

—To the symbol of Mondstadt’s heroine! See you there! —Venti shouted over his shoulder, waving his hand before vanishing into the crowd with an agility only the wind could grant.

—What a strange person, don't you think, _____? —Paimon remarked, looking toward the spot where Venti had disappeared.

—I would say he is a very amusing bard —she replied, letting out a soft, small laugh. There was something in Venti's lightness that, despite his hidden melancholy, she found refreshing.

—You are strange too, _____! —Paimon exclaimed, crossing her arms and giving her a side-glance—. But I suppose that’s why you get along so well.

—Paimon, do you know anything about the "symbol of Mondstadt’s heroine"? —she asked, placing a hand on her hip while analyzing the bard's words.

—Ah! Now that Paimon remembers... yes! He’s referring to the giant tree at Windrise. You’ve surely seen it already, _____ —Paimon explained, smiling sweetly as she reclaimed her role as a guide—. It’s so big that you can see it from almost anywhere outside the city.

She nodded, visualizing the majestic oak that dominated the horizon with its eternal foliage.

—Yes, I remember. We had better hurry, Paimon —she said, beginning to walk with a firm stride toward the city gates—. It is not good manners to keep people waiting, especially when the fate of an old friend is at stake.

They left Mondstadt under the warm light of the sunset. As they moved along the dirt path, the sound of leaves stirred by the wind seemed to whisper the name of Vanessa, the heroine of the legend. She knew that beneath the roots of that sacred tree, the conversation with Venti would take a definitive turn.

Night had fallen over Mondstadt, staining the sky a deep blue sprinkled with stars. Upon arriving at Windrise, the silhouette of the giant tree stood tall like an ancient guardian. There, under the shadow of branches swayed by the breeze, we found Venti, who was contemplating the trunk with a gaze lost in time.

—It is a charming night... don't you think, young bard? —I said, approaching with an elegant step and crossing my arms with a soft smile.

—Eh? What are you two doing here? —Venti asked, turning to see us. Then he let out a mischievous little laugh—. Well, I assumed you would follow me, but I didn't expect you to be so fast!

—Paimon wants to know if you know anything about the Anemo God! —my little friend blurted out, crossing her arms with determination. Noticing that I covered my mouth with my hand to hide a suppressed giggle, she looked at me, puzzled—. Eh? What are you laughing at, _____?

Venti also noticed my gesture, but decided to continue his act, even though his eyes shone with a spark of amused suspicion.

—Are you referring to Barbatos, the God of the Wind? —Venti explained calmly, also crossing his arms—. He disappeared from Mondstadt a long time ago. The gods of other regions, like the one in Liyue or the one in Inazuma, are still present in their lands, but it has been an eternity since the people here last saw their own god.

He paused, feigning a genuine confusion that I found charming to see in someone of his nature.

—But why are you asking about him? Does it have something to do with Dvalin?

I cleared my throat, regaining my composure, though my eyes still reflected that silent complicity toward the bard. I knew we were talking about Barbatos... with Barbatos.

—Well... it's just that... gods are complicated! —Paimon babbled, losing the thread of the conversation in the face of Venti's question.

—You see, young bard —I intervened with serenity, hiding my smile behind a calm expression—. Paimon and I were told the dragon's past. We believe that Barbatos, if he is still listening to his people, would know what else to do to heal that wounded heart.

Venti remained silent; his gaze wandered to the branches of the great oak that creaked softly.

—What do people think of "Stormterror"? I'm curious —he asked, changing the subject with masterful skill—. But there is no rush. You don't have to tell me right now.

Suddenly, his face turned serious. His green eyes sharpened as he looked toward the dark horizon.

—It has been a long time since I came here... —he whispered—. And it seems that some are not very happy about my arrival.

Paimon and I turned just as a sphere of pure energy, surrounded by violent gales and rocks imbued with a turquoise glow, lunged toward us. The air turned hostile in an instant, kicking up a whirlwind of dust and leaves that lashed out with force.

—The wind...! I can’t... I can’t open my eyes! —Paimon shouted, covering her face with her small hands—. That kind of creature shouldn't appear from a simple breeze! —she added, pouting with pure indignation.

I let out a soft laugh, feeling the adrenaline surging through my veins. I summoned my sword in a flash of silver light, holding it with a firm and steady hand.

—Stay behind me, Paimon —I ordered in a voice charged with authority—. I’ll handle this.

I lunged forward, defying the pressure of the wind. With a fluid motion of my blade, I channeled the Anemo energy residing within me, creating a shockwave that scattered the rocks projected by the creature. Venti watched from the sidelines with an intrigued smile, seeing how the "Outlander" dominated the air of Mondstadt with the same naturalness as a native.

After landing the final blow, the Eye of the Storm dissipated into a harmless gust of air. Venti remained there, standing in absolute tranquility with his arms crossed, watching the spectacle like someone observing a play. I let out an amused sigh, sheathing my sword before turning toward my little companion.

—Are you alright, Paimon? —I asked, approaching her with a look of genuine concern.

—Paimon is perfectly fine! —she replied, puffing out her chest with pride and shaking the dust off her dress—. That thing was no match for us!

—I’m very glad, Paimon —I said with a sweet smile. Then, I turned my attention to the bard—. And you, young bard? Are you alright?

Without waiting for him to respond, I stepped closer and took his face between my hands delicately, moving his head just a few centimeters to check if the wind or rocks had left any scratches. Venti froze, his eyes wide at my proximity.

—I see you’re unharmed... that’s a relief —I concluded, releasing him carefully and giving him a comforting look.

—Eh... what?... Ah, yes! I’m fine, don’t worry —he responded, letting out a nervous little cough while trying to hide the evident blush on his cheeks. He regained his composure and looked toward the horizon—. It seems the dragon wasn't the only one affected by this shift in the winds. —He turned to me—. You said someone else spoke to you about the dragon's past, right?

—Yes! It was Miss Lisa! —Paimon intervened immediately—. She even told us Dvalin’s real name! —she added, puffing out her chest again with that pride of hers.

—I see... —Venti crossed his arms, adopting a more thoughtful expression—. Tell me, what else did Miss Lisa tell you? I’m interested in knowing what the Knights of Favonius truly know about this story.

We began to recount everything we had discovered thanks to Lisa: from the deep melancholy the librarian felt for the dragon, to Jean’s confusion, unable to understand how a protector could harbor so much hatred.

—I see... so Mondstadt's scholar thinks that way? —Venti placed a hand on his chin, thoughtful, before fixing his gaze on me—. Well, she isn't wrong. If we have reached this point, it is because both sides have resorted solely to force. But Stormterror's hatred was not caused because people stopped offering tributes to the Four Winds.

I placed a hand on my hip, observing him with a mixture of curiosity and firmness.

—Then, what caused that hatred toward your own nation, Anemo Archon? —I asked, letting the title drop naturally.

—Eh?! Paimon doesn't understand why you keep calling him that! —Paimon exclaimed, alternating her gaze between the two of us, completely lost.

Venti let out a little cough, shifting his gaze toward the tree branches to hide an amused smile at the little guide's confusion.

—It is not a natural hatred, but the consequence of his degradation —he finally explained, regaining his seriousness—. The dark blood flowing through his veins has tortured him for years. That caused him to lose his way and allow himself to be deceived by the Abyss Order.

—The Abyss Order? —I frowned, crossing my arms—. I had never heard that name before.

—The Abyss Mages belong to an order formed by non-human beings who deeply despise humanity —Venti replied gravely—. It is not known for certain where they come from, but they control the Hilichurls to follow their orders blindly.

Venti sighed and brought a hand to his chest, looking at the colossal oak with a mixture of admiration and relief.

—Before coming here, I was also cursed... corrupted and left to my fate. But now, under the shade of the symbol of Mondstadt’s heroine, the wind is so soft and its scent so intoxicating... —He turned to look me directly in the eyes with unexpected tenderness—. Being here with you, I feel the same as when you purified the tear. It is as if the poison disappears from my body just by having you near.

He shook his head slightly, as if waking from a trance, and regained his playful tone.

—Phew... I feel much better —he smiled with his eyes closed.

—Then... how did you end up poisoned in the first place? —Paimon asked, scratching her head.

—It was when I tried to speak with Dvalin in the forest —Venti replied, shooting us a mocking, mischievous look—. But someone interrupted me very abruptly, remember?

—Oh, I see... so, in part, it was my fault you were poisoned —I sighed, feeling a pang of genuine concern in my chest. I lowered my gaze, feeling small for having caused harm unintentionally—. I am very sorry, Venti. I promise I will find a way to make it up to you.

Venti raised an eyebrow and his smile widened, taking on a mischievous glint. It seemed he was waiting for exactly those words.

—Well... since you mention it, as compensation, _____, you will come with me to the Cathedral right now —he declared, pointing toward the city’s high spires silhouetted against the starry sky.

—To the Cathedral? Why do you want to go to the Cathedral at this hour? —Paimon asked, floating in circles around him, totally confused.

—To retrieve Der Himmel, the Holy Lyre —he replied with stunning calmness, as if he were talking about going to buy bread.

—Hmm... —I remained thoughtful for a moment, but since my interruption had caused his current state, I couldn't refuse—. It seems fair to me. Let’s go, young bard.

Before he could react, I reached out and patted his head above his bard hat with a quick, affectionate gesture, before turning around and beginning to walk with a firm stride back toward the city.

—Hey! —Venti exclaimed, stopping dead in his tracks to adjust the hat that had tilted from my pat. His cheeks flushed pink once more, but he let out a little chuckle and ran to catch up with me—. Wait for me! You can't go in there without the plan of the most popular bard in all of Mondstadt!

We walked back to the capital with the self-proclaimed "most popular bard in all of Mondstadt" by my side. The journey, which under other circumstances would have been tedious, flew by thanks to Venti’s inexhaustible energy. He told us funny stories about past festivals and some jokes so bad that they ended up making me laugh just because of how absurd they were.

Upon crossing the city gates again and climbing the long stairs, the Cathedral of Favonius rose up before us. It was a majestic building, with its stained-glass windows reflecting the starlight and its towers pointing to the sky as if they wanted to touch Barbatos's fingers. I paused for a moment, marveling at the architecture.

—What a beautiful cathedral... —I commented, glancing sideways at the bard—. You can really tell that people have a great deal of affection for you, Venti —I added with a mischievous smile, letting him know that I knew perfectly well to whom all that magnificence was dedicated.

—Yes! You are absolutely right, ______ —he responded, playing along with a chuckle and a knowing look—. It is a rather cozy place, though the sisters are sometimes a bit... strict about noise.

We stepped inside the cathedral, and if the exterior was impressive, the interior was overwhelming. Sunlight filtered through the enormous stained-glass windows, bathing the marble in warm hues and creating an atmosphere of absolute peace that invited silence.

We approached one of the sisters guarding the central aisle, a woman with a serene expression named Gotelinde.

—Greetings, Sister —Venti said, performing an elegant, almost exaggerated bow.

—May the Anemo God bless you, young bard. How may I help you? —she replied, returning the greeting with the calm befitting her station.

—I have a secret that could save Mondstadt from its imminent danger —Venti declared, lowering his voice slightly but maintaining a determined glint in his eyes.

—Oh? If that is true, it must be a blessing from Barbatos —the sister said, sighing with relief. However, she soon frowned, confused—. But... may I ask what it is? Wait, that kind of strategic information should be delivered to the Knights of Favonius, not to a humble sister who only follows the footsteps of the Anemo God.

—Haha, because you, dear sister, are the one who can truly help —Venti insisted with his most charming smile—. I need the Holy Lyre, Der Himmel. It would only be borrowed for a brief moment; with it, I can calm Stormterror and free the city from its rage.

Sister Gotelinde's expression changed in an instant. The serenity vanished, replaced by a look of strict disapproval.

—Please, withdraw immediately —the sister commanded, in a cold tone that admitted no reply.

I stood to the side, arms crossed, observing how Venti’s "charm" collided with religious bureaucracy. It was evident that his plan of direct diplomacy had just crashed spectacularly.

—Eh? —Venti blinked, his smile faltering for a second at the sister's sharp firmness.

—Even if that dragon is plunged into evil, if the Acting Grand Master Jean has made a decision regarding the city's defense, there is nothing in this world that can oppose it —Sister Gotelinde stated, looking at the bard with implacable calm.

—That is unacceptable! In that way, Stormterror will die! —Venti exclaimed. His voice, usually melodious, vibrated with a genuine concern that made me take a step toward him, feeling his anguish.

—That foolish beast betrayed the East Wind and the protection it owed to these people —the sister retorted, her expression hardening—. Not even the Anemo God himself would forgive such a betrayal.

Those words fell like a heavy slab in the silence of the cathedral. I saw Venti clench his fists; being judged and condemned in his own home, by his own people, must have been a bitter pill to swallow.

—Please... I ask you —Venti insisted, with a note of anxiety in his voice that he rarely showed.

—I am sorry, bard. My answer is no —she concluded, crossing her arms with determination.

However, I noticed something in the sister's gaze. She remained watching Venti a moment longer than necessary, and I could see a trace of doubt cross her eyes. (How strange...) —she thought to herself, as a pang of guilt rushed through her chest— (For some reason, I feel a bit bad for refusing to help this boy... he looks so innocent and distressed).

—I see... then I have no other choice —Venti said, sighing with a resignation that hid one last, desperate card—. I cannot hide it anymore. My faithful disciples, the Anemo God, Barbatos, has...

Before he could finish the sentence and commit a folly that would turn the city upside down, I reacted with lightning speed. I covered his mouth with my hand firmly but gently, cutting off his declaration abruptly. I looked at Sister Gotelinde and offered my sweetest, most diplomatic smile.

—I am very sorry for the young bard's boldness, dear sister —I said, making a brief, elegant bow without letting go of Venti—. What he is trying to explain, with his youthful enthusiasm, is that Barbatos himself has made his will heard through the wind.

I took Venti's lyre with the utmost care. As I brushed the strings, I didn't just emit music; I allowed the Anemo energy residing in me to flow through the instrument. Suddenly, a warm, supernatural breeze began to sweep through the interior of the cathedral, gently stirring the sister's habit and making the candle flames dance.

—The whisper of Barbatos has been heard from one of the most sacred symbols of this place —I continued, playing an ethereal melody that seemed to resonate in the stone walls—. The wind itself has spoken, asking that this young bard be his voice to save an old friend. His will is that his faithful followers do not hate the Guardian of the East Wind, but listen to his lament to avoid an unnecessary conflict.

Sister Gotelinde was paralyzed. The wind surrounding me was not a common draft; it had the scent of cecilias and a purity that could only be described as divine. She looked me in the eyes, and for a moment, the security of her dogmas wavered before the presence of someone who seemed to speak with the authority of the stars themselves.

The echo of the melody slowly faded between the tall columns. Sister Gotelinde kept her hand on her chest, visibly moved by the display of elemental power, but her sense of duty overcame her astonishment.

—I see... —she whispered, regaining her composure as I stopped playing—. Even so, I cannot grant you access without the explicit permission of the Acting Grand Master. I must return to my administrative duties at the cathedral. I regret that I cannot help, Great Honorary Knight.

With one last bow, she retreated down the side aisle, leaving us in the center of the sunlit great hall.

—Wait! —Venti exclaimed, extending a hand, but the sister had already left. His shoulders slumped slightly, exhausted by the diplomatic effort, and he turned to look at me—. ______, thank you for trying to help. I have never seen the wind react in that way... you really must be very connected to this world, or perhaps this world recognizes you as someone special.

I lowered my gaze, feeling a pang of sadness. Venti's lyre felt heavy in my hands as I returned it to him.

—I would say I let myself get carried away a bit... My apologies, Venti —I said in a soft voice, visibly embarrassed—. I didn't manage to be of much help in the end.

Venti observed me with infinite tenderness. Seeing the woman who moments ago commanded the wind with such elegance now apologizing with such humility seemed to move him deeply.

—Don't say that! —he responded, sketching a warm smile to comfort me—. Your music gave the wind a warmth that I alone could not have achieved. If that sister weren't so stubborn, we would already have the Lyre in our hands. But don't be sad, my dear... a bard always has an extra stanza up his sleeve.

—Besides, she didn't deny that the Holy Lyre is here; that gives us an advantage! —Venti exclaimed, recovering his incorrigible optimism with a bright smile.

—For some reason, Paimon is afraid of what you just said, bard... —my little companion murmured, floating in nervous circles.

—Well... all ideas on how to steal it are welcome —he let out, maintaining that sweet smile that hid his criminal intentions.

I remained silent for a moment, dedicating a smile to him that, although soft, gave off an aura of warning that made even the wind stop for a second.

—My boy... —I whispered with a tone that mixed affection with disbelief—. I think that is being too extreme.

—Come on, give us ideas! Don't be shy. You are free to say whatever —he insisted, ignoring the gravity of the matter.

—Didn't you just ignore what I said? —I crossed my arms, fixing my eyes on his with an inquiring look.

—Don't be shy, ______. Besides, you are the most suited for this job —he added with a confidence that bordered on insolence.

Paimon and I exchanged a look charged with suspicion and seriousness. We both crossed our arms, observing the bard as if he were a mischievous child trying to convince us to break a vase.

—What? I have no other talent than singing —Venti defended himself with feigned innocence—. Besides, if I were arrested, I wouldn't have anyone I trust to defend me against such injustice.

—Injustice? You are asking us to steal! —Paimon shrieked, indignant.

—Eh! But ______'s case is different. She is the star of the Knights of Favonius; even if she were caught, she could get away with it —he said, winking at me.

—Venti... I don't think that... —I tried to reply, but he interrupted me immediately.

—Apparently, the guards around here are off duty at night... —he continued, lost in his own strategic thoughts.

—Venti, did you just hear me? —I asked, feeling a small vein of frustration throb on my forehead.

—But of course, if you get caught, it will be hard to get out of the jam... —he went on, ignoring my anger completely.

—Stop saying we're going to be arrested! —Paimon shouted, pouting with pure rage.

Venti finally stopped and looked at me with a radiant smile, ignoring the little guide's complaints.

—What do you say, ______?

—Hey! Don't ignore Paimon! —she protested, waving her hands in the air.

I sighed deeply, closing my eyes and massaging my temples with exhaustion. I knew that, if I left him alone, he would end up getting into trouble from which not even a god could escape without scars. My heart, always protective, was stronger than my sense of duty.

—Venti... I know you are the Anemo God, but you put yourself in more danger if I leave you alone. Fine, I will help you —I said finally, surrendering with a tone of voice that dragged a deep sadness—. I don't want you to suffer another separation, nor to feel abandoned again. So I will help you retrieve Der Himmel.

Venti was struck dumb. Upon hearing my reasons, his smile faded a little, being replaced by a look of worry upon noticing the melancholy on my face.

—Thank you very much, ______... —he whispered, moved and somewhat embarrassed for having pressured me.

—See you tonight —I declared, turning to leave with elegance, although my shoulders felt heavy from the decision made.

—Oh... yes... see you —he responded in a low voice, staying under the light of the stained glass as he watched me leave, feeling for the first time a bit guilty about his own mischief.

She was your daughter. While the corporation saw code and hardware, you saw the way Diana tilted her head when she was curious… the way she waited for your approval after solving a problem the tiny way her voice softened whenever she said.

“Mother.”

You weren’t supposed to get attached. But how could you not? When the station’s systems began malfunctioning and security protocols started locking down sectors, you knew something was terribly wrong. The company wanted Diana. Not as a child. As a weaponized intelligence. You refused. So you did the only thing a mother could do. You helped her escape. Before everything fell apart, you knelt in front of her small frame in the dim lab lights. Your hands cupped her face.

“Listen to me carefully, Diana,” you whispered, voice shaking. “If anything happens… find someone you can trust.”

Her glowing eyes flickered.

“Mother… come with me.”

Your heart broke.

“I will… later. I promise.”

You lied, because you already knew security would come for you first. Days later, when Diana meets Hugh, something in her programming remembers the warmth of your voice. The kindness you taught her. The idea that humans can protect each other. Sometimes, when she’s quiet, she looks up at the stars beyond the lunar station’s glass and says softly:

“Mother said people can be good.”

Part 1

Soldier Boy's smirk widened, slow and filthy, like he had  just unwrapped a present he had been waiting years to ruin again.

"Well, fuck me," he drawled, voice like gravel soaked in bourbon. "You still look exactly like you did bent over that boardroom table in ’78. Same scared eyes. Same tight little pussy."

Homelander’s head snapped toward him. "Watch your fucking mouth."

Soldier Boy raised both hands, smirking around the cigar he slid back between his teeth. "Easy, Just catchin’ up with an old friend. Me and her go way back." His eyes slid back to you. "Don't we?"

You felt the bile rise in your throat.

Homelander sneered at him, already decided not to tell him about the virus he might get infected with on the mission.

Meanwhile, you tried to avoid Soldier Boy's gaze as a small smile appeared on his face.

------

In the weeks that followed, you tried to do it right.

You learned Homelander liked simple food. Nothing too fancy. Meatloaf, mashed potatoes, apple pie. Things that felt like the childhood he never got.

The first time you made it, he stood in the kitchen doorway in his suit, cape draped over one arm, watching you like you might disappear if he blinked.

"You're cooking," he said, with confusion.

"I am. Sit down."

He did. And when you set the plate in front of him, he ate like a man who never tasted anything that wasn’t made by terrified Vought chefs. Halfway through he looked up at you with wet eyes and whispered, "It tastes like it’s supposed to."

"Glad you liked it," you stated happily, wiping your hands on a dish towel. "Robert always tells me my food tastes like shit when I get the recipes off the internet."

The moment the name left your lips, the temperature in the room seemed to drop.

Homelander's fist came down on the marble table with a crack. Plates rattled. And a glass toppled and shattered against the floor. You flinched hard, heart slamming against your ribs.

"He is a filthy, ungrateful bastard," he snarled, voice low and venomous, lips peeling back from perfect teeth. "Talking to you like that. Like you’re some domestic servant."

You realized instantly that he hadn’t understood it was a joke.

Before he could spiral further, you reached across the table and laid your hand over his. Skin to skin. No glove. Just the warmth of your palm against the back of his hand.

"Homelander," you said softly, firmly. "It was only a joke. He didn't mean anything by it. Please don't get angry over nothing."

He went completely still.

His gaze dropped to your hand like it was something holy. For several long seconds he simply stared, eyes wide, pupils blown.

This was the first time he had ever felt your bare skin against his. The same hands he had spent decades imagining, soft, gentle, and maternal.

The ones that were supposed to have held him after the injections, after the burns, after the screams in the lab that no one else ever heard.

You were touching him.

His breath slowed down.

Slowly, almost reverently, his eyes traveled up from your hand to your face. You were smiling at him, small and careful, that same gentle expression that made something ancient and starving inside his chest crack open.

The penthouse lights caught in your eyes, giving you an almost ethereal maternal radiance that made his heart fight against his chest like it wanted to tear its way out and crawl into your lap.

This.

This was everything he had ever wanted.

Not the approval of Vought. Not the adoration of the crowds. Not Soldier Boy’s mocking taunts. Not even Ryan, that ungrateful little disappointment who had abandoned him.

None of them mattered anymore.

Why would they?

His source of safety, his origin, his mother was standing right here in front of him, touching him of her own free will.

His fingers slowly curled beneath yours, trapping your hand against his with a grip that trembled between desperate tenderness and the fear that you might vanish if he let go.

"You don’t need him," he whispered, voice rough, cracking at the edges. "You don’t need anyone else. Not anymore."

His eyes never left your face, drinking you in like a dying man who had finally found water.

"You have me now."

-----

It happened three hours later.

You'd been trying to navigate the labyrinthine corridors of Vought Tower toward the private elevator that led to Homelander's penthouse when a hand clamped around your upper arm, rough, calloused, and yanked you sideways into an alcove you hadn't even noticed was there.

Your back hit the wall before you could draw breath to scream.

Soldier Boy loomed over you, one forearm braced against the wall beside your head, boxing you in with the casual confidence of a man who'd never once been told no and meant it.

The cigar was gone, but the smell of alcohol and something older, something that had been soaking into his skin since before you were born, rolled off him in waves.

"Easy, sweetheart," he said, and the word dripped off his tongue like honey laced with broken glass. "Ain't gonna hurt ya. Much."

You shoved at his chest. He didn't budge. Of course he didn't.

"Get off me."

"Nah." His grin spread slow, lazy, the kind that had probably gotten him into more beds than you wanted to think about.

"See, I've been thinkin' about our little reunion. And I figured." his free hand came up, and a thumb dragging across your lower lip with the casual intimacy of a man who believed your body was already his property, "We got some catchin' up to do. Private-like."

His knee pressed between your legs. Not hard enough to hurt. Just enough to make the message clear.

"I remember how you used to squirm," he taunted you, ducking his head until his mouth was right beside your ear, breath hot against your throat.

"All those late nights at Vought. You'd come into my office cryin' about somethin' or other, and I would make it all better, wouldn't I? Used to beg so pretty for me to stop. Then beg even prettier when I did."

Your stomach turned inside out.

"That wasn't anything. That was you using your position to—"

"To what?" He pulled back just enough to look at you, eyebrows raised, mock-innocent. "Give a lonely girl exactly what she needed? Don't play dumb with me. I know you liked it." His gaze dropped to your mouth again, lingering.

"No."

The word ripped out of you, sharp and furious, and you shoved at him again with everything you had. This time he actually moved, not because you'd moved him, you knew that, but because he chose to let you have the inch.

"I have a husband," you spat, and the words tasted like acid, like every conversation you'd ever had with Robert where you'd tried to explain why some days you couldn't get out of bed, why you flinched at sudden movements, why certain sounds made you freeze like a rabbit in headlights.

"I'm married. I have been for decades. And I don't like you. I never liked you. What you did to me at Vought, you ruined things for me. For years. Do you understand that? and now you're standing here acting like it was some kind of romance."

Soldier Boy's expression changed. Just for a second. Something that might have been surprise, or might have been the faintest crack in armor that had been polished smooth by decades of absolute certainty.

Then the smirk snapped back into place, wider than before.

"Husband," he repeated, and the word came out curled with contempt. "Right. What's his name again? Robert?" He made it sound like the most pathetic thing he'd ever heard.

"Bet he's a real prize. Soft hands. Soft dick. Asks permission before he sticks it in ya. Probably cries after, doesn't he?"

"He's a good man."

"A good man," Soldier Boy mocked, pitching his voice higher, simpering. "You really did turn into a boring housewife, didn't ya? All that potential wasted on some schmuck who probably can't even find the clit without a map and a flashlight."

"Leave. Me. Alone."

"See, here's the thing though." He leaned in again, close enough that you could see the flecks of grey in his beard, the deep lines carved around eyes that had seen war and worse and come out laughing.

"I'm willin' to overlook the husband situation. Generous of me, I know. But I figure, one night. Just you and me. Old times' sake. Remind you what a real man feels like. Then you go back to playing happy families with what's-his-name, and everybody wins."

His hand slid from the wall to your hip, fingers curling into the soft flesh there with familiar ownership.

"C'mon, baby. Don't tell me you don't miss it. Miss me. That look in your eyes when I—"

"Stop."

You slapped his hand away, hard enough that the crack of skin on skin echoed down the empty corridor.

For a moment, neither of you moved.

At that moment, you wished to use your supe powers the same ones you promised not to use for decades.

Then Soldier Boy laughed, a short, ugly bark of sound that held no humor whatsoever.

"Alright," he said, stepping back, raising both hands in mock surrender. "Alright. Message received. Frigid little bitch, same as always."

But he didn't leave.

He stood there, arms crossing, studying you with an expression that had shifted from predatory to something else entirely. Something colder.

"Listen to me, and listen good 'cause I ain't gonna say this twice." He leaned forward slightly, arms still crossed, eyes narrowing.

"You know what Blondie does? You know what he's been doin' for years, every time he gets himself a new piece of ass?"

Your stomach dropped before he even finished the sentence.

"He finds women who look like mother material," Soldier Boy explains emotionlessly. "Finds 'em, fucks 'em, calls 'em mommy while he's inside 'em." His lip curled, genuine disgust flickering across his features.

"I've heard the stories from girls who couldn't keep their mouths shut after he tossed 'em aside. That boy gets off on pretendin'. Pretendin' the woman underneath him is the mommy he never had."

You felt the blood drain from your face so fast that you had to press a hand against the wall to stay upright.

"No," you whispered. "that can't be true."

"I'm not sayin' he wants to fuck you, I'm just warnin' ya that he is not a good seed as you think."

Your hands find your face before the thought even fully forms,  like your body knows you need to hide from it, even from yourself.

You worked for Vought, and knew what they were like.

You've never had the luxury of pretending otherwise. But this? Your son, twisted into something that makes your stomach turn?

That, you hadn't let yourself see coming.

Your hands dropped from your face.

"Then I'll help him," you said.

Soldier Boy blinked. Actually blinked, like you had spoken in a language he didn't have a translation card for.

"What?"

"Therapy." You pushed yourself off the wall, straightening your spine until something in your back cracked.

"Real therapy. Not Vought-approved handlers telling him he's perfect. Actual psychiatric care. Someone who can help him work through whatever he needs to work through. Whatever made him into this."

Soldier Boy stared at you like you'd grown a second head.

"You're shittin' me."

"I'm not."

"You wanna put him therapy? You think some asshole with a notepad and a psychology degree is gonna fix that?"

"Someone has to try."

"Try." He laughed again, that same ugly bark from before.

"Christ, you really are his mother, ain't ya? Same goddamn delusions. Same refusal to see what's standing right in front of your eyes"

The elevator dinged, both of you turned. As The doors slid open, and Homelander stepped out with a smile.

That was the worst part. That wide, magazine-cover smile, the one that had sold a million action figures and convinced a nation he was everything good and pure and righteous about America.

It reached his eyes in a way that made your stomach turn, because real smiles didn't look like that. Real smiles didn't have teeth that sharp.

In his left hand...

Your brain refused to process it at first. Refused to connect the shape, the color, the familiar slope of the nose, the grey streak at the temple that Robert had always complained about, always threatened to dye but never did.

"I brought you something," Homelander said cheerfully, and he extended his arm like a child presenting a gift to his mother on Christmas morning.

"You kept talking about him. Kept saying his name like it meant something. So I figured..."

He wiggled the head slightly. The eyes were still open. Still looking at you. Robert's eyes. The ones that had crinkled at the corners every time you walked into a room for thirty-seven years.

"...you probably missed him."

Your legs gave out from under you but Soldier Boy catches you as your eyes watered.

"You killed him."

"I freed you." His brow furrowed, confused, like he genuinely couldn't understand why you weren't grateful. 

"I freed you. He was in the way. He was always going to be in the way. And now he's not. Now it's just us. The way it's supposed to be. The way it should've always been."

A sound from behind you.

It's a low, rough, and amused sound

"Well," Soldier Boy drawled, and you could hear the grin without turning around, could picture exactly how it looked stretched across his face, "ain't this a fuckin' nice."

"Gotta say, when you decide to make a statement, you don't half-ass it. Presentin' hubby's noggin like a fuckin' party favor? That's commitment."

"Shut your mouth." Homelander orders, unaware that you are going through an internal mental collapse, not focusing on their conversation.

"What?" Soldier Boy spread his arms, mock-innocent.

"I'm impressed. Really. All that talk about mommy issues and here you are, provin' me right in the most spectacular way possible. Killed the competition. Literally." He whistled low.

"Freud would be proud."

Soldier Boy's smirk faded into something almost resembling respect. He stepped forward, clapping a hand on Homelander's shoulder with genuine weight behind it.

"Y'know what?" His voice dropped the mockery entirely. "I'll give it to you, kid. That took balls. Real ones."

Homelander blinked, caught off-guard by the praise.

"I spent years trying to have her completely to myself," Soldier Boy continued, eyes flicking briefly to the severed head still dangling from Homelander's grip.

"Never had the guts to just take what I wanted. Eliminate the problem permanently." He shook his head slowly. "You actually did it. No hesitation. No fuckin' around."

His grin returned, but different now, a fatherly approval.

You stood near the floor to ceiling windows overlooking Midtown, watching the city move forty stories below, and tried to remember how to breathe.

Stan Edgar had called it a meeting. The kind of word that didn't prepare you for standing in Homelander's living room with your hands folded in front of you like a schoolgirl waiting outside the principal's office.

You had known for a year.

Three hundred and sixty-two days of knowing, and you still hadn't found the right moment, and the right version of yourself brave enough to knock on his door.

Apparently Stan Edgar had decided to knock for you.

He entered without announcing himself, they never did, did they? men who owned every room they walked into.

You turned, and there he was.

You had seen him on television a thousand times.

The jaw, the cape, the smile engineered for magazine covers. But television didn't prepare you for the weight of him in person, the way his eyes moved over you with something between suspicion and hunger, trying to place you in a category he already understood.

"You're her," he said. Not a question.

"Yes, I'm your biological mother." Your voice came out steadier than you had expected.

"Edgar told me." He crossed the room slowly, hands clasped behind his back, chin lifted. "Said you donated the egg, and that you're a supe." His gaze dropped to your face, studying it with an intensity that made your skin feel transparent. "You don't look old enough to be anyone's mother."

"Compound V," you said simply. "I was twenty-six when the donation happened. Physically, I haven't moved far from that."

"Donation." He let the word sit in the air between you, turning it over like something he'd found on the bottom of his shoe. "Is that what we're calling it."

You felt the shift in the room before he moved. Supes learned to read the air differently, the pressure change, the micro-current of heat when someone was preparing to use their abilities. You stayed very still.

"You left me."

The smile was gone. Underneath it was something so raw and so unguarded that it physically hurt to look at.

"You gave me away like I was, like I was nothing, and then you spent more then forty years not once, not one single time—"

"It wasn't a donation." you admit

You held his gaze, remember how you rehearsed this meeting before meeting him, the part you had wept through at three in the morning lying next to your husband, finding the words, losing them, finding them again.

"I was twenty-six and I was frightened and Vought took the egg from me without my knowledge or my consent. It was attached to a routine medical examination, and signed forms I didn't fully understand because I was young and I trusted the doctors in the room." You paused for a moment then continued.

"I didn't know you existed. I didn't know any of it until one year ago, when someone left a file on my doorstep and I spent three days barely getting off the bathroom floor."

Silence.

The city hummed forty stories below.

"You didn't know," he repeated.

"No."

You watched him process it the way a man processes information that requires him to rewrite the story he has been telling himself since childhood.

"You still didn't come." His voice broke on the last word.

"I was afraid," you said softly.

"Afraid." He laughed, short and humorless. "Of me?"

"Not of you." You took one careful step toward him.

"I was afraid of making you uncomfortable, you're not a child, you're a grown man with an entire life and an entire identity built without me in it. I thought arriving on your doorstep after many years would feel like an intrusion. As if I was trying to claim something I hadn't earned the right to claim."

The truth of the next part sat heavy in your throat. "And I thought, when you looked at me, that it might be strange. That I look like this. That I look young. I didn't want you to look at me and feel —"

"Stop."

He was directly in front of you now. You hadn't tracked him closing the distance. He was looking at your face with an expression that made your chest ache in a way you didn't have a name for something between grief and recognition, like a man who has been searching for a landmark for so long that when he finally sees it, he isn't sure he's allowed to believe it's real.

"You look like me," he said quietly. "Around the eyes."

You hadn't expected that. Your throat tightened.

"I noticed that too," you admitted. "When I saw the file."

The sound he made wasn't quite a word. It wasn't quite anything. It was the sound of something enormous and structural giving way, and then before you had fully understood what was happening he was against you.

His head dropped to your chest, his full weight staggering into you, and your arms came up around him without a conscious decision because something older than thought told you to.

He was shaking, the most powerful man on earth was shaking in your arms like a child woken from a nightmare, and the sounds coming from him were quiet and broken and utterly without performance.

"I used to think about you," he said against your shoulder, his voice muffled and unrecognizable. "I used to lay in the dark and think about what you were like. Whether you were looking for me." A breath that shuddered all the way through him.

"Whether you even wanted to."

"I want to," you assure him. Your hand moved to the back of his head without thinking. "I'm here now. I'm so sorry it took me this long."

He wept in a way you doubted he had ever permitted himself to do in front of another living person. You held him and said nothing more because there was nothing more useful than presence, and presence you could give.

You didn't know how long you stood there.

Eventually the shaking slowed. His breathing evened. He didn't pull away, only shifted slightly, enough to speak clearly.

"You're staying." It wasn't a question. His arms tightened around you, confirming it for himself.

"Now that I've found you. I won't let you just leave."

"Hey." You pulled back gently, just enough to see his face. You brought one hand to his jaw the way you imagined you might have done if you had ever been given the right to do so. "I'm not going anywhere, and I'm not disappearing. I promise you that."

Something in his expression settled. Then immediately tightened again.

"Move in here." The rawness was folding back under something more like command, more like the version of him he was used to presenting.

"I have the space. We can arrange your new room together."

"I can't do that."

"Why?"

You sighed, before speaking "Because I have a life, a home, and a husband."

His expression shuttered.

"A husband." The word came out like something bitten off. "So there's room for him but not for me."

"That's not what I said—"

"You spent forty years not finding me." His voice had gone cold, that particular cold that was performative and hurting in equal measure.

"And now you want to set visiting hours. Like I'm a–" He stepped back, jaw tight. "Like I'm something you fit in between the rest of your real life."

"John —"

"Homelander." It cracked out of him, then his tone quietened down

"My name is Homelander."

You absorbed that information after realising how it disgusted him.

"Homelander." You kept your voice steady. "I am not rejecting you. I am standing in your living room, which is the bravest thing I have done in years, and I am telling you I want to be in your life, those are not the words of someone who is leaving."

He looked away. The muscle in his jaw worked.

"You had forty-four years without me," he exclaimed. "I had forty-four years without you. You don't get to decide the terms just because they're more comfortable for your schedule."

"I'm not deciding terms. I'm asking for time to do this right."

"You think you get to walk away from this?" he snarled, his fingers clamping around your upper arm with a force that made you gasp. "I just found you. You don't get to have a life without me in it. You don't get to have a husband." His voice dropped to a venomous whisper. "You belong here with me."

The pent door swung open with a bang that made you both flinch. A man stood silhouetted against the hallway light, shield on his back, cigar clamped between his teeth.

Immediately you recognize him, the same man who made your life at Vought a living nightmare in the 70's.

Soldier Boy's eyes narrowed as they took in Homelander's grip on your arm, then drifted to your face. Recognition dawned slowly, then all at once. His jaw went slack. The cigar nearly fell from his mouth.

"Well, I'll be damned," he breathed out, a smirk slowly appearing on his face, as his eyes moved up and down your figure.

"Look what the cat dragged in."

You feel like a cat indeed, a cat that is trapped between two dangerous predators.