#walkingwithcomets

The beauty of festivals could never be undersold. I’ve seen many pass, often bittersweetly as their participants have yet to realize that I, the harbinger of their demise, had already set the gears of the destruction of their happiness into motion. Some others, put together with the small hands of my siblings and my own weak claws, spelled out disaster on purpose. Celebrating my own presence was the same as celebrating a new start to Sa’s samsara.

Now, though, I’m free from all that suffering. Free to save everyone I wish to, free to enjoy myself. Free as a bird, free as a gust of wind, free as a flame laying waste to a bone-dry forest, free as the greenery that sprouts up afterwards, free as a spore, free as the stars. 

I look up at them now, foreign stars, familiar stars, all shining their light down on me. One of them isn’t a star, but rather my beloved ship, my dearest friend. I can’t quite tell which one, and I don’t feel like looking closely enough to bother. I give the sky an absentminded wave as I settle down on one of the blankets laid on the lookout. I’m not quite sure if they’re set out to let the weary traveler observe the bright orange lights of the moon city below me, or to let the amateur astronomer enjoy the beauty of the asterisms above. Painfully, the stars continue to call me, never can I feel comfortable in one place for long.

I project my silent thoughts outwards, a little lament to rest in the minds of the festival-goers. Perhaps someday, the mayflies will take my song and hold it in their hearts, not knowing where the thought came from. It’s an embarrassing habit I have, leaving too much of myself behind. Even so, I cry. It’s a plea to the stars, whose gazes scorn me, yet whose beauty calls the star voyager forevermore. A wordless, emotionless sound, but I can barely hide my smile.

I return to silence as I feel a presence nearby. I let my smile escape fully, pointing up at the constellation I’m quickest to find. “The Greater Bear,” I say, half mumbling. My vocal chords are worn out from the chill. “As opposed to the Lesser Bear. On Earth, this is a useful constellation to know, for it contains an asterism that points to its pole star.” I move my finger southwestward. “The Dragon. Where my people are from, we didn’t have a pole star, but it would be somewhere here.” I sweep my hair over my shoulder, turning away from the endless sky and towards this person. “Which way is north here?”

Sprawled on a blanket laid over the grass, Venti watched the lanterns drift into the night sky. A thousand wishes, drifting towards the heavens, lighting the way to the future. How poetic, he thought with a smile. Sure, he had celebrated many Lantern Rites in the past, but the sight never grew old. Softly, he began to hum: a traditional Liyuen melody that had begun to resurface in recent years...

...Then grew quiet, as he heard another. Someone was singing an unfamiliar song; strangely, rather than being carried on the evening breeze, it reverberated in his head—

Rather abruptly, he stood up and picked his way around the people clustered on the mountain top. Inherently, there was no danger in the action of projecting thoughts—especially since he knew a certain someone that often did the same—and of course, Liyue was not his domain, but the act of doing it so openly piqued his curiosity. Now, where to find the source… It would be harder, without the wind to guide him, but Venti would take the challenge.

Luckily, the search didn’t take long. Among the outskirts of the gathering was a lone figure, gazing up at the sky as he had been, her features shrouded by the night. As he approached, the song faded away. It seemed he had been noticed in turn.

…Perhaps this was just her way of passing the time. Venti supposed the least he could do was hear her out.

“North?” he repeated. “I do believe it is that way—” he pointed vaguely in its direction—”but I’m afraid our stars won’t be much help with direction. Unless you are looking for your own direction; in which case, as they say: ‘in Teyvat, the stars in the sky will always have a place for you’.”

@walkingwithcomets wrote:

[REPAIR] Righteous Vita pushed her minecart piled with Geomarrow with all her strength, much to the cheers of some gathered adults watching her. That’ll show them what a Phosphorus representative is capable of! To the end of the line it went, where the Geomarrow would be unloaded and brought to the Overworld. Red kept asking if there was any luck fixing the heaters, and they kept saying they were “working on it.” They had been working on it for days! Red wondered what they were doing with all the Geomarrow she was mining if it wasn’t for the heaters. She wiped sweat off her brow and walked back along the tracks, picking up a pickaxe that she hefted over her shoulder. She was just about to step into the mine when some guy hollered her name. “Red! You need a chaperone, remember?”  Red put a hand on her hip, hollering right back. “I keep telling you, I’m older than you are!” The guy shook their head. “None of us believe you!"  She rolled her eyes and walked back towards the gathering of people, laying her pickaxe against a stone. She weaved around the legs of adults before her eyes landed on a beautiful woman with long pink hair that reminded Red a little bit of Hare, albeit a different color. Maybe she’d be cool and strong like Hare too! “Excuse me,” Red stood on her tiptoes, doing her best to project her voice over ongoing conversations. “Would you head into the mines with me? You don’t have to do anything, I just need an adult to be allowed in.”

Between the ore and the labor, it's almost warm here. 

People hustle about, miners and supervisors and worried tourists alike, the space such chaos that Cyrene is impressed it is still so functional. She had come to lend a hand, to help ferry some supplies back up top, to fill in wherever she was needed, and she finds herself swept away in one task after the next as though her presence had been expected. 

It is as she is rising from a stack of crates, soot from its newest addition coating her palms, that she hears a the call for her attention. The voice is familiar, she had heard it only a moment ago bickering with one of the supervisors. Her head swivels, the stars in her eyes searching at head level for-- "Oh, hello there!" 

It's familiar, like seeing an old friend in the pages of a book. There's no doubt, were those little scarlet sweethearts here, they would be doing exactly the same. So she nods once, brushing her hands together and stepping to meet the girl.

"I hardly mind helping," and then, with a song-like little laugh and a wink, she adds, "and I believe you, don't worry."