#venti week

An apple in hand, Venti the god walked out of his city and into the fields. A couple birds perched ontop of his shoulders as he walked, he giggled as they pecked at his hair. So cute! The efforts to introduce more and more pigeons into the local environment were going along swimmingly! Soon, he thought, perhaps ducks would swim in Mondstadt’s lakes as crows fly overhead.

The sun moved from high noon to dusk by the time he arrived at the stone gate towards Liyue Harbor. He checked his pockets for the bottle of wine he wanted to share with the geo god, the bottle was a gift from Venerare. Drinks were the best when talking to people, and as since she and Gunnhildr declined his invitation for a get together- he might as well spend a day or two with his latest pal.

Morax, who delegated everything in the harbor, was an odd man to find. He usually walked throughout the streets of his city, never quiet retiring when the moon approached. Venti knew the other god questioned his lack of protection to Mondstadt, even if he never said it out loud. Even if he did, Venti wouldn’t answer him and they both knew that. Even if they knew each other for such little time, the anemo god’s heart was on his sleeve- even if his mouth tended to shield it’s omnipresent love. To take care of a city was something he could not do, even when watching Gunnhildr or Imunlaukr write words upon words. Paperwork, while easy for him, was utterly draining. He could never put into words the sheer hesitation in his heart as he stared at forms a plenty. There was this invisible barrier in his mind that prevented any such task to be completed. No. He needed something tangible. Something like seeing a person smile after he speaks with them.

At times he thinks of making some sort of complaint box for people to input their worries, but he remembers the bags under Gunnhildr’s eyes as a member of her clan sought her console. Could a person, who has been human for less than a decade, be able to relate to such everyday struggles. He knew he was like the bard he modeled himself after, a person who’s heart doesn’t flutter at the sight of another- so could he ever match the intensity humans craved of each other. He knows he needs to learn more. He knows that very very well. At times, the prose of everyday speech was filled with more metaphors than any ballad. Subtle stuff like which fork to use he still messed up on.

Even if he was a good leader, the relief and joy Gunnhildr, Imunlaukr, and Venerare had when they finished an event or tidied up a meeting was unmatched. They worked hard and then played hard. How could he ever lighten such an emotion of joy? How could he ever deny them of what they want to do? They know they could always ask for help, once or twice they asked if he could pause rain or storm for a ceremony. Yet they were so hesitant.

As he looked down at the river below him, he wondered if they still thought of him as a wisp.

From dusk to dawn he walked, the birds on his shoulders flying back home as he made his way farther and farther south. Should he have asked for a pastry before he left? He knew that most people brought along rations to eat, yet he had never tasted one before. Taking out a notebook, he wrote down in shaky handwriting another thing to test out.

Looking up at the sea of stars above him, his heartbeat at the sight. So many lights. So many colors. It was utterly divine no matter how many times he gazed upon it’s form. Tracing one of the many constellations with his pen, he wondered which ones would belong to his friends. Would their image be as gentle as their soul, or as fierce as their battle cries. He could just imagine a bearlike constellation for Gunnhildr. A flower or mask for Venerare. A crystalfly for Imunlaukr. A unicorn for Ragnvindr.

Would it be so wrong to engrave the image of a three-sided flower into his own constellation?

Taking a moment to rest, he could spot the inn in the distance. While it would be no trouble to walk there, the wind felt wonderful at the very spot he was standing.

Sitting down near a rock, he leaded against it as he tuned his lyre. Playing a song without words, he settled for a simple score. Chords of moving up and down the scale was nothing new to him, yet the basicness of it all underneath something grand made it all so special. Notes kept coming out of him, as Venti subconsciously channels a bit of anemo into his strings. The reverb made a pleasant noise in his head, like playing in a cave or a dungeon. Before long, he had spent the night experimenting with varying levels instead of sleeping.

He could feel the butterflies of Liyue rest on flowers, and even the fish near him seemed to move less and less. He wondered if they could hear him, even if they were in water or it was mere coincidence. Still, the bard in green had an audience and thus put on a calming show.

A butterfly, bluer than the ocean, made its home on his lyre as he finished his last song. He watched its wings move up and down, breathing in its own unique way. Venti raised his hand to let it move to his finger, and brought the creature over to eye level. “Is it true.” He muttered to the insect, “You turn into goo before you are born anew?” It didn’t answer him, yet he was still mesmerized by its jewel scales. “How brave are you, to be metamorphized and renewed. Did you have a clue? Or did you see it as something you had to do…”

The rise of the sun was something he would aways cherish, it’s rays bathing the world in a warm light. He could sense in the distance animals and birds chirping as the darkness of night left. Venti smiled as he placed his lyre away, heading into the inn to buy a breakfast before leaving. He remembered the one time before he even met Morax, of stumbling over his words in a broken language as he gestured at the menu. Thankfully, another person from his city was checking out at the time- willing to help the bard understand most of the characters as they suggested they travel together. While Venti was intending on staying the night, he took his fellow former rebel up on their offer and met the geo god that very evening.

Tap tap tap, he finished his plate ever so quick and this time ordering something else to bring to Morax besides just wine. How about ten or so matsutake mushrooms? Those are super tasty!

Container safely secured in his hands, he resumed his journey southbound. Sometimes along his travels he would bump into people being chased by slimes or whopperflowers- sending a quick arrow before retreating. Not a single treasure horder or bandit approached him this time, which was great! He didn’t have to worry about talking to the millelith and delaying this trip by an hour or so!

The ocean breeze greeted him like a familiar friend. His notebook practically hummed at the wind cradling it. The name of this breeze was engraved on the first couple of pages, along its own poem. The future atlas had a lot more blank pages that yearned to be filled, and Venti could never forget the energetic ocean kin. They were much different than the quieter ones north, so used to interacting with sails and kites. They zoomed around the bard, as Venti danced in their nonverbal language. He laughed at their jokes and their gossip, whispering him secrets and common knowledge. Sure sometimes they liked to mislead, but they were much more truthful than the ones living on the islands even southern from here!

“How do you do! My friends I would love to sing you all many tunes, yet the time slot for today is filled by the king of dirt. Many apologizes for being so curt!” He smiled at his newer friends. They zipped around him, the warm breeze mixing a bit with the cooler ones. “Remember you all! Rex Lapis would be disappointed and ready to brawl should you cause a storm by the harbor’s maw.” They laughed and spun around some more, their attention spans airy as they soon left.

Liyue harbor was as busy as ever. The crops and fabrics of Mondstadt were being solder at higher prices than last time he visited. Was it because of their most recent harvest or was it the amount of growth his humble city had accumulated. He should ask his friend. Morax was nowhere to be seen, so box of mushrooms in hand Venti wandered the streets. It’s stones were so perfectly aligned with the business, a product of many architects and designer’s hard work. Despite all of that, there was barely hints of greens, the ivy and moss had long since cleared away to expose wood and stone to customers. There were the occasional blues of a grace lily or reds of a silk flower bush, but those were carefully gardened.

Venti knew from his previous encounters not to ask around for Morax’s presence. Usually he would appear when he least expected it, like a cat watching a person fish. Those eyes of cor lapis was somewhere in this city, he could sense it in the wind.

Using the simple box as a rest for his stuff, Venti brought out his lyre once more and began to play. This city had some laws against playing music, but as long as he sticked to a certain timeframe, crowd amount, and volume then there shouldn’t be much trouble. He spotted his usual crowd of young adult faces, groups of friends wanting to experience the singing of a different culture together. He laughed along with their antics as the minutes and hours passed. The morning light moved to late noon as still no sign of the lord of geo graced Venti’s presence. Still, with the amount of mora being donated his way, he wasn’t complaining!

He began another ballad, just short enough for the timeframe of this nation’s laws. This one was a bit simpler, of a drunkard testing out different combinations of fruits and vegetables- til one day they combined sea water, ice, and some very angry air that emptied their appetite. He got a bit lost in the rhymes, yet even he noticed the sun was beginning to set, and Venti packed his stuff up once more, saying thanks to the crowd for being such wonderful guests.

As he lifted his head from his bow, he saw it.

An red mane he hasn’t seen in seasons.

His mouth felt dryer than ever as he looked at the person in the back of the crowd, his red eyes and claymore was unforgettable. He did not expect this. How could he ever expect this.

Stuttering a bit more, Venti continued to end his performance, before darting after that leaving figure.

It was him. It had to be.

He wanted to scream the red haired warrior’s name. Ragnvindr! Ragnvindr! Ragnvindr!

Are you angry at him?

Do you loath him?

Are you ever coming home?

Was I ever home to you?

How have you been?

Are you eating well?

Are you still painting?

Are you still collecting books?

Do you live around here?

How many places have you gone?

Do you hate him?

Do you hate him?

Do you hate him?

Do you hate him?

Do you hate him?

Do you hate him?

Do you hate him?

Do you hate him?

Do you hate him?

Do you hate him?

For doing the unforgivable and attempting to be Him.

The seasoned rebel dodged every single step of Venti’s, weaving through the city as the sun set and somehow blending into the darkness despite his hair. Yet Venti knew they needed to talk. They had to. Ragnvindr, dear Ragnvindr….. Venti has so many letters to give him! Gunnhildr wishes him well! The trainees have started a little knight club after the man and his techniques! You should come and visit! Even if you didn’t want to see the bard’s face as he did, then Venti could always be out of town when they did so! As long as…

As long as he knows Ragnvindr was alive… then Venti would be happy.

“Ragnvindr!” He called out, the knight didn’t stop as Venti begged. “Please wait.” Was it going against his own ideal to force him to have a conversation? Was he being too much? No. No he reasoned. Ragnvindr needed to know how much they all missed him and that Venti yearned for the days they would sit in silence as their mutual friend wrote in the other room.

There was no response.

Venti raised his voice a bit more, “Ragnvindr… slow down! I need to talk to you! This is..”

Turning the corner, he saw nothing, only a man made stream with all it’s citizens gone. It was dark. So dark. The moonlight reflecting Venti’s gaze as he stared at the ground and waters below him, the fish swam slowly unaware of his storm.

Venti… laughed.

“Ragnvindr…” He could feel the tears on his cheeks. “I know seeing such a ghost would be…” Venti clenched his fist as he crouched near the waters. His legs felt so weak. Why was he so weak? He couldn’t even catch up to a person running! This shapeshifted form of his was so slow so heavy so… wonderful. The weakest of all the gods lost this round, and he didn’t know if this would ever happened again.

The ocean breeze never felt so cold. A couple leaves from very distant trees fell onto the water’s surface as Venti placed a hand on his chest. His lungs hurt. Was this what it was like to be out of air?

The bard sat at the edge of the water for who knows how long as he thought and thought. He was too demanding to Ragnvindr. He was annoying the knight. He didn’t want see Venti and that’s final. He… must hate Venti for robbing the corpse of his dear leader. Venti was a mockery of such a kind and gentle soul, he knew it. There was no world that he and Ragnvindr would ever be friends.

Yet why did it hurt so much. Why did he care so much for the man who left Mondstadt? Why did he leave? Venti closes his eyes, never knowing the truth.

He could feel a presence behind him, and he quickly jumped to turn around.

Amber eyes greeted him.

“Barbatos.” He greeted, “You look unhappy to see me.”

“Oh it’s nothing Morax…. Just….” The immortal let out a sigh, “I failed to talk to an old friend.”

“You.. failed?”