Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The Archon yelped. Hand flying and grasping his hat whilst the winds continued to grow weary and restless around him. He could not help the sigh of defeat pass his lips. 

The rouse of the winds around him was of no one's fault but his own. Not even the gods above could be blamed. He sucked his teeth, “500 years,” He hit his back on his newly comforting tree, “So not worth it.”

Of course he’d come to the conclusion after his hibernation and not entirely before. Before he’d have to drown in problems he himself placed. Even staring at his children’s home from Windrise was enough to arouse a new sense of guilt in him and the winds. 

Which hasn't stopped swaying in nerves since he sat.

The Archon knew if he were to glance back at his misfortune from a millennium ago– he’d have stayed awake without a second thought. At least he hoped… 

Well, he should’ve never left them to begin with. What kind of Archon leaves their children to fend for themselves? Hmm, perhaps his children will learn to forgive him and his selfishness as they look back to what could have been had he not slept. 

The unforgiving winds weren’t entirely his doing if he were being frank. Potentially a sign of betrayal coming from Mondstat, the Archon thought. He would never doubt it. 

His children should be upset with him. Enraged even. He searched for an ounce of anger only coming to a dead end and finding none. 

That is until a harsh blow caused the Archon to wince and cower slightly. 

Now, The Archon knew he couldn’t simply rid the town from feeling helpless, no. For now he’d have to settle on calming the winds as well as his frustrated mind.

Like an arrow from a bow he called upon his familiar lyre— Der Himmel— and swiftly fixed his sitting position. Hoisting one leg up and hastily flicking his fingers across his instrument experimentally. A small smile bloomed on his face at the soft melody. Home. Now he shall mull over his standpoint with the winds. 

“Ahem, please, humor me little ones. How exactly shall one be in use for this downhearted cry for help?” The wind stalled around his person before immediately dropping everything on him. “Woa-ha-ho! Shaken and troubled one might be, a moment of silence one will need.” The winds stall once more. 

The Archon carefully placed his Der Himmel down. “Okay, now, please. One at a time for this bard cannot keep up.”

There stands— a fast and brutal man!

His face contorts, “Brutal man?” A mocking laugh trails out of him. The only “brutal man” the Archon knew to be within reach was currently stuffing up a roasted pig in his chambers. If anything The Archon considered the man simply needed help with learning of greens that grew just right out of the walls of Mondstadt. 

He shrugged, feigning indifference as he spoke with ease. “Well, I guess he is a bit brutal.” He snapped his fingers at a rising idea. “Ahah! I could save the animals as well! Archons know they need it.”

No, no, no my Archon— death everywhere!

The Archon froze. “Death?” His eyes slipped closed, urging the wind to wander around the walls of his nation. Beckoning them to hurry to find anything amiss. Alas, he found nothing. Leaving him more curious than before. The Archon blinked at his surroundings, questioning once more, “This ‘fast and brutal’ man one speaks of, I cannot seem to find such a being on this moonlit night. Where is he?” 

The brutal man is not here, My Archon.

No- no— the man is—

Outside! He who is an outsider calls for you, My Archon!

The Archon tried his best to dwell on the words bestowed on him. So this person wasn’t from here? Well, that certainly explained why he— despite having the power too— couldn’t find the source. Or rather, the man. 

Still, was going to the man smart? Especially in a dire situation such as this? The Anemo Archon really couldn’t find it in him to leave his children. Not after finally waking and coming to terms with the false hope he succumbed to long ago. Certainly, something like a brutal individual shouldn’t have been brought to His attention, of all people. 

Thus, his hesitation was clear enough for the winds themselves to question the unmoving Archon. 

The Archon is hesitating?

Why does the Archon hesitate?

Is he scared?

This prayer is for the Anemo Archon is it not?

No— a desperate cry for help!

Certainly. The man is terrifying. 

Hush! In the presence of the God of Wind—

“All is well,” The Archon ushered nervously, putting his lyre away. “A prayer is a prayer. No matter who and where it’s from. I must answer.” Even though all the Archon wanted to do was stay put. No, that wouldn’t be like him at all. The Archon was no procrastinator, he could do this. He’ll just have to trust his nation won’t erupt into flames in the next few moments. 

He positioned himself in an awkward position, attempting to analyze his land—

Trust us, Archon.

The Archon closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and pushed himself off his now comfort tree. Not dwelling on the graceful land the winds provided him with, thanking him profoundly for his moving. 

A small chuckle escaped him, “No thanks needed friend.” The wind immediately cheered, embracing the Archon’s figure. Though it was short-lived, the unknown man was still out there, and the wind most definitely didn’t forget to inform him of that fact. “Then let us make haste.” The wind did just that. 

In an instant, the Archon stood in front of his ginormous tree slipping past everything he knew. Whether it be dandelions, bulk trees filled with ripe apples, or the silence of Mondstats borders— He couldn’t help it. The Archon helplessly popped back into existence. 

“This man really isn’t from Mondstat.” He mumbled. Maybe it was a bit foolish to think the wind had simply made a mistake and the said man was in the confinements of his nation. Maybe it would be easier to step foot— Ugh. The Archon shook his head, gaze flickering away from his home. “It isn’t likely for someone from another nation to call upon another Archon.”

No person. 

No man. 

A demon. 

The Archon’s brows knitted in pure confusion, “A Demon? Now that’s unheard of.”

Yes Archon. Demon. Death everywhere.

The wind wouldn’t possibly dream of setting him up for failure, right? Was this even safe? He found himself sighing, this really is a predicament, he thought before turning on his heel. 

My Archon, please.

You shall certainly not reach him on foot. 

He barely holds onto his life, My Archon. 

At that, the Archon had no choice but to close his eyes, venturing through the land once again as light as clouds, following the wind's direction of calling. Of course, his body still burned to stay near his homeland until he deemed all to be well, he found himself believing he couldn’t just leave this issue alone as if the call didn’t come through him and no one else. 

Especially since the curiosity fell over him to decide for himself whether or not this supposed demon was as daunting as the winds claimed him to be. Besides, it was the Anemo Archon the man called upon, not— he suddenly popped into existence. Abruptly stopping his traveling. 

The Archon couldn’t find himself understanding. This was the Geo Archon’s lands? Could that old geezer not hear— or a matter of fact feel the cries of this poor man? 

Yaksha, My Archon. 

“Yaksha?” The Archon found himself at a loss for words, quickly piecing together the remnants of the winds' earlier cries. “Of course. By demon, you meant—” A piercing scream cut through his words— rattling every fiber in the Archon as a sinful gust of wind clawed its way up his neck. 

You should not be here.

You do not belong here. 

We will kill you .

Yessss. Along with that pathetic man who dares call himself a Yaksha.

Protector of Liyue — what a joke.

Die. 

A mantra. A death mantra. That’s what it had to be. The Archon gasped for air— “Where is this Yaksha?” He yelled, hopefully loud enough for the rude and brash voices to hear. 

On the bridge. 

Where the heavens and Earth collide!

There is no hope for what is to be. The Yaksha must die. 

There is no saving here— Archon . 

Ugh. This is going nowhere. The Archon merely lifted his hand, ushering the winds to search for the suffering Yaksha. 

My Archon, over here!

He wasted no time turning his attention to— his mouth and heart dropped. The Yaksha… is that blood? He’s covered in it. Drenched. 

Go back to where you came from!

You don’t belong here!

Another gut-wrenching cry came from the hardly moving Yaksha. Nearly the same moment another devastating blow came to the Archon’s airway knocking him off his feet. It’s fine— He clawed at his throat— he’s fine. He shouldn’t worry about himself but the man that lay— still alive. 

This was simply an enemy of the Yaksha—or rather multiple enemies. 

The Archon groaned, attempting to speak urgently but clear enough for the winds to understand. “Why must he call upon me?” A sharp intake, another wave of pain. “Eurgh— I need to know.” He grunted. 

My Archon, please, this Yaksha is in pain. 

Will he live?

Of course not! He will die just like the others!— 

“Oh, shut up.” The threats were silenced but the slight suffocation and discomfort remained. The Archon didn’t attempt to rise just yet. Eyeing his surroundings with much haste, eyes bouncing through the dark mist that threatened to hide him from the world, alongside— the Yaksha. His eyes widened, flicking back to the quiet, groaning man. 

He hadn’t seemed to move much since the Archon first laid eyes on him. Was that good? He didn’t seem to be on land either. Guess he didn’t calculate his landing before popping into existence. He’d popped onto a big rock sprouting from the brooding water below— it missed the moon's light. Considering the Yaksha’s menacing aura he carried, he guessed this was as close as he was getting anyway. 

A few coughs left him before he spoke, “Where exactly is this place?” 

This place is called Guyun Forest, My Archon. 

The Geo Archon’s people find this spot appealing to the eye.

Though he can’t quite view this place as “appealing,” he’d have to agree for now. The Archon inched forward— a gasp left him—

Careful Archon!

Do not fall now!

The rock ended there. “Okay, okay.” The Archon then moved carefully, sitting almost robot-like as the Yaksha’s aura forced the Archon to wheeze. He doubled forward—

My Archon—

Let us shield you, My Archon. 

All you need is to simply ask. 

Is he struggling for breath? The Anemo Archon?

The Yaksha must also be struggling as Our Archon is. 

That was it. The Archon sucked in as much air as he could, pushing himself back up. Whatever it was he was fighting with right now, whether it be as simple as breathing. It has to be nothing compared to the Yaksha’s pain. 

So, with as much strength as he could muster up, he spoke gently. “How does the Dihua Flute sound?” The answer was immediate. Chirps danced around him as the wind blew his braids away from his face. 

Lovely, My Archon. 

Yes! The Dihua Flute!

Grace us with your melodies, Our Archon. 

The Archon summoned his flute. Even if he hadn’t played the instrument in a millennium, the smooth ridges, tiny carved holes, and a beautiful dangling piece of yarn. However long it’s been, the musical instrument felt most familiar in the hands of its owner. 

The Archon raised his flute, pressing the cool wood to his lips—

This Yaksha is owned, My Archon. 

The Archon halted. 

He is not yours to watch over, moving forward. 

Ah, yes. The Geo Archon—

The God of Contracts. 

The name alone caused an annoying twitch to come over the Archon’s eye. “How brutally honest you are.” Still, the thought should’ve— but didn’t— cross his clouded mind. This land was that of one he was not overly friendly with anyhow. It should’ve been his first thought. 

Nonetheless, “This young Yaksha called upon me. Be kind, my friend.” Without much restraint, the wind cowered at the words. “Bring me all of the Yaksha’s burden. Allow me to feel everything that tethers him so.” The command didn’t fall past deaf ears. 

So despite trembling at the amount of distress he felt already, he lowered his gaze, felt, and listened. 

His brows drew together, so much distress. So much guilt. Can one really carry all of this? The Archon let out a shaky exhale, bringing the wooden flute to his wobbling lip, and blew the sound of nothing but learning. 

This Yaksha was no demon. No. Though he had great experience with them no doubt. Slaughter. Yes, that was it. This distressed Yaksha is a protector. A demon— he was not. Though the menacing aura that calmed, if not a little, was in fact— souls. They’re souls. 

His finger moved to another small hole, covering and blowing a softer tune. Understanding. That’s all the Archon wanted to do, understand. Though the crying souls were a mystery, he could understand one thing the Yaksha seemed to have a great deal of. Agony. Something the Anemo Archon was sadly quite familiar with. 

He lifted his middle finger— the drowning air around him ceased— allowing his face to relax. Yes. This Archon knew what this Yaksha needed. What he yearned for no less. Thus knowing this, the Anemo Archon didn’t waste time, letting his fingers dance across his flute as he listened to the lovely melodies pouring from his heart, mouth, and mind. 

Peace. That’s what the young Yaksha needed, peace. So that’s exactly what the Archon gave him. Kindly commanding the winds to carry out his melodious tune, gently wrap themselves around the Yaksha, and wake him to the peace he was meant to have and live with. 

Focusing purely on the Yaksha, the Archon did his absolute best to not coax such a play with the struggles of his own. This Yaksha called upon him. Only when the warm sun hits him, will he be on his way back to his hometown to help his first dear friend from secluded confinement. 

Without helping himself, the Archon began swinging his feet leisurely. Slowly matching the rhythm of the wind and tune. Continuing the rise and fall of each finger to produce different sounds. Blowing more strongly, more softly. It was one of the most peaceful and meaningful tunes the Archon has played since his wake. He’d only hope it was as moving and beautiful to hear as it was to play. 

The Yaksha, My Archon. He is here–

The man is here?

Yes. Listening. Watching. 

The Archon’s lips quirked up, though slightly so as to not disrupt his play. The Archon was pleased. He loved an audience— it was in his nature. Even if the Yaksha was special in a sense he in fact wouldn’t fit in the crowd of his people. Archons, no. This Yaksha shall stick out wherever he goes, surely. 

Oh, yes. The Archon also understood very well that this Yaksha was not his kin. By divine intervention, yes. Of course. By their paths, most likely not. The Anemo Archon just couldn’t, at least right now, see him coming to terms that the Yaksha agreed with such a life. A life played out and planned by a single paragraph. Or essay no doubt. 

In truth, it was none of his business. The curiosity was there. The Archon just simply couldn’t be anything more than that. Curious. An old friend of his would very much love saying that to his face. Why he even allowed himself to follow the wind, and venture onto another land was left in the wind to question. 

He is the Conqueror of Demons, My Archon. 

The Archon, without meaning to, slowed his pace in tune. Ah, yes. The answer he came by earlier, now presented to him. Still, he carried on. 

Forgive us— this Yaksha has felt peace, My Archon. 

Do you think too much?

There’s no such thing!

Yet the contract that binds him would disagree. 

The contract? 

Under the influence of the God of Contracts. 

We shall not speak more of this— we do not understand the situation as well as the Geo Archon and the Conqueror of Demons— The Archon suddenly came to a slow stop, finishing his melody with a long note. All before his flute vanished and all that was left was him, the wind, and the watchful Yaksha. 

Well, it is uncommon for an Archon to visit another nation. Especially during these times. 

No. It is uncommon for a being like the Conqueror of Demons to call for another Archon that is not his own. 

He didn’t want to, but the Archon hummed in wary agreement. The timing definitely isn’t a good one. It just wasn't a good enough excuse to have left such a distressed deity alone and suffering. It wasn’t exactly common either, he agreed, to call another Archon when already graced with an Archon of their own. Hmm, perhaps that won’t be as uncommon in the future as it is right now. 

His fingers gripped his tights. Ugh. This is just so confusing— His swinging legs came to a stop. His whole body tensing with confusion— a shocked gasp left him reeling slightly forward. A sweet buzzing suddenly traveled through his body. Greeting him head to toe. 

The Archons' eyes slipped closed. The wind had even stopped it's rather rude chatter. Welcoming the ‘thanks’ the Archon received with open arms. 

The Yaksha was thanking him— his hand flew to his chest, grasping his clothing. Of course, he nearly forgot how lovely it felt to get prayed to. Still, this… this was personal. 

Every single prayer was different in its own right. No matter what it be, everyone has their way. The Yaksha, however… thanking him so deeply, in a way even the Archon had trouble believing. Never— a smile crossed him, greeting each ear— did the Archon believe a simple thanks for him could have him feeling as light as a feather falling from a bird in its night flight. 

Still, everything must come to an end. 

The feeling was strong and felt, as much as it was fast and fleeting. The Archon did his best to come back down to Earth and see the Yaksha well with his own eyes before he— vanished. He’s gone. As if he hadn’t just thanked the Anemo Archon on the land of another. Assuming the Geo Archon was definitely his Archon. 

The Conqueror of Demons is under the Geo Archon’s watch. 

The Archon huffed, crossing his arms. While he should start reflecting on other things, he couldn’t help to finally talk back to the wind with no watchful eyes. “How very intrusive you were and are.” 

Ah— we apologize Our Archon!

Only, the God of Wind must be aware of certain aspects that revolve around him. 

We were the ones who beckoned him here?

We were carrying out a prayer. Something the Anemo Archon encouraged us to do. 

“I did?”

Yes. 500 years ago. 

“Ah,” Seeming his mind was still hazy, he deflated. Merely shaking his head fondly as the wind started to caress his face in apology. His gaze lifted to the moon, smiling as he spoke, “Knowledge should be given and received in its own time.”

Yes, my Archon. Knowledge should be given and received in its own time.  

“Plus, the idea of me always knowing everything does feel like some sort of a cheat doesn’t it?” 

Yes, of course, My Archon. 

The Archon became pleased at the hushed words. Watching the moon silently while the thoughts of his home began to cloud his mind once more. He’d helped the Yaksha and while before he had second thoughts about what the wind had in store for him, he knew for sure he couldn’t mess this up. His nation.

So with his mind made up, and a fiery-haired friend who was currently chained— dealing with people who cheat in a simple ball game. He now knew deep down what needed to be done. 

Chapter Text

Light tunes filled all around Venti and his small crowd. 

Fingers moving gracefully as words of song seamlessly pour out from him. 

They say traveling to another nation is not to be taken lightly. For cheers all around will grant you courage. 

Venti wishes that were true. He desperately needed respite during his travels. 

He couldn’t shake the anticipation from his trembling knees nor his thunderous heart, which never stopped bashing against his ribs while he struggled to finish his piece. 

Venti would have none of that. 

Especially since his crowd hadn’t ceased their loving praise. Whether it had been clapping, whistles, or hurrahs, Venti embraced it all with open arms. 

Only when he lifted his fingers individually, dragging out his tune, and allowing his chords to gently come to an end, did everyone burst into a loud chorus of cheers. 

Venti didn’t hesitate to soak up the ovation. Vanishing his Der Himmel to show his appreciation, he took one enthusiastic bow. 

Still buzzing with positive energy, Venti set forth his hat upside down. Presenting it, he spoke aloud, “Thank you all! But, if you please,” He swiped his hat in a side-to-side motion, “a token of appreciation for this playing bard!” Venti chirped. 

Admiration quickly filled their eyes. Dropping more than enough for the giddy bard. 

Soon enough, his hat filled to the brim. He couldn’t help but whistle at the lovely sight, “Enough for a bottle of wine.” 

Strings of praise continued, followed by his movements as he pocketed his welfare. Venti couldn't help the excessive bouncing of his feet while thanking all! 

Shortly leaving with a light pep in his step, yet continuing his journey in trepidation. 

It was already noon, and he’d been on the road since last sunrise. Anticipating an inn would be alight by early midnight. That is, if he stopped blocking the road for a whirlwind of poetry to anyone who’d pass him by. 

Never once asking for more than a listening ear didn’t stop a few drops of mora here and there. It certainly wouldn’t hurt, considering he was heading to the most expensive nation in Teyvat— Liyue. 

Not wanting to dwell too much, a plan had already begun surfacing in Venti’s mind. He’d find a way. He always did. 

So, with his chin held high alongside his spirits, he begged his thoughts to be positive for the remainder of his day. 

Up till the alluring inn gradually rose into view. 

Venti heaved at the sight. Finally, he thought. 

“I’m here.” He sang aloud, jogging the rest of the way.

The moment his feet hit the pavement, the aroma hit him at full speed. Food from vendors, bouquets lined up, ready to be loved. 

Venti took one long deep breath in— and out. Quietly wincing at the scorching temperature that’d found its way over. Instinctively, his hand shot out to fan himself. The other reached to free his damp hair from the restriction. 

Venti groaned, scanning his no longer dry hat. “I could really use a bottle of wine right about now.” He mumbled, stumbling on his tired feet, he continued forward. 

“Tone-Deaf Bard?” Venti frowned, sluggishly turning to the call. A quick smile blossomed on his lips. Waiting while the two familiar faces drew closer. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh-ho! The Traveler and Paimon! What is it that has brought us together on this fateful encounter?” Venti inquired with perfected ease. Despite his disheveled appearance. 

“We were just stopping by for dinner! Paimon is hungry, and the Traveler was hoping to rest for the night!”

The Traveler frowned, “Paimon, you said you were tired from floating. Floating.”

“Okay, but Paimon is still hungry!” She deflected. “And you promised Paimon dinner!”

“I always promise you dinner. And breakfast. And lunch—oh, and your little snacks in between—”

“Okay, okay! Paimon gets it.” Venti chuckled briefly at their bickering. Seems traveling to nearly every nation could do that to a duo. Bumping heads all the time. 

Venti opened his mouth only to hesitantly pause. His gaze flickered to the right. Huh. No one. Venti’s eyes began trailing up… he could’ve sworn— “Venti?” 

Venti, though not wanting to quite yet, dragged his head before his eyes landed on Paimon. “Hm?” 

Paimon tilts her head at the sound, and the Traveler remains silent. “Is… everything okay?” 

Venti gives a reassuring nod, “Yes, yes, of course! Just — taking in this enchanting view,” he gestures. “Lovely, isn’t it?” Venti’s eyes flicker to the Travelers’ raised brow. 

Yet, Paimon doesn’t refrain from her rising questions. “Well, what are you doing here anyway, Venti?” 

“I’m merely stopping for a nice cold drink followed by a long night's rest. All before I visit the city!” 

“Ooh, heading to the city? What for?” 

Venti brings his fingers to his chin, feigning his wonder, “Hm, for inspiration, of course! It surely doesn’t come out of nowhere. You must seek it yourself. And this bard's next ballad, Liyue style.” A firm nod ended his rant, and Paimon all but beamed at his words. 

She never stopped asking questions, and Venti never ceased his answers. Especially since it meant avoiding the Travelers’ hard stare while they all made their way up. 

Venti undoubtedly tried his best to stay standing straight when all he’d rather do is sway, lean on walls, railings, pft— even the Traveler or Paimon. His feet continued to pulse with every step, but, in the eyes of his friends, he’d have to drown it out for now. 

Surprisingly, when they did make it to the top, the Traveler is the one who speaks first. Asking for a single room and a table for two. 

“Will do. Your table should be ready momentarily. And for you, sir?” She posed, finally aware of his exhausted frame. 

Relieved at the attention, Venti reached to grab onto the counter. Bouncing as casually as he could on his numb feet while he answered as cheerily as he could muster up.

“A bottle of wine, please. Uh— cold.” The lady merely blinks at Venti’s request. O-kay? He tries again. Clearing his throat, he says, “Perhaps maybe there’s a selection I can choose from? Grape, red, white?” No response. “Anything?” 

The lady, sooner or later, stops her gaping expression. Quickly shaking her head and clearing her own throat before speaking, as if she were rehearsing a script. “Sir, I apologize, but we normally aren’t prohibited from serving wine to adventurers after 9. Perhaps if you would agree to sign a contract, we can certainly—”

Venti physically reels back before rounding in on the lady, “Wait, wait— a contract? For wine? I’ve never heard of such things! For what purpose do they serve?” Venti continues sputtering nonsense despite feeling a hand grace his shoulder. 

“It’s okay, ma’am. He’s with me. I’m sure we’ll figure things out from here, haha.” No one laughs. “Ahem, if it’s okay, can we add an extra to my table?” The receptionist glances twice at Venti, warily moving to place new accommodations per their request. “Thank you.” 

The woman continued further pleasantries up till’ providing them a menu each, and Venti will be sure to not spare a single glance at their special entrees for the night. 

They waited seven minutes and thirty-five seconds before finally getting seated by another beckoning lady. 

Venti didn’t bother spending another second standing, practically throwing himself on his chair. Peering up at his friends through heavy eyelids while they both slouched, sighed in relief, their eyes even daring to slip shut. Hah. Guess they didn’t realize how tired they were until their bodies were truly able to relax. 

“Long day, one presumes?” The Traveler gave a long nod just as Paimon’s words became incoherent.  Venti clicks his tongue at the sight, “I can only imagine your tedious days as adventurers.”

“Hey, it’s not so bad. Helping others, traveling? Maybe you can test the waters.” 

Venti laughs, “Yeah, not this bard. If I were to travel, it’d be to perform. Or, to taste test wine. Something I now lack. What was that in there anyway? Does one really have to sign a contract just to drink?” 

The Traveler shrugs, looking a bit helpless on the matter. “I never really stopped to ask.” 

Venti’s brows knit together in contemplation, “Hmm.”

“Ooh! Paimon thinks it may have to do with something that’s happened in the past! Like a drunkard going crazy!”

“Or, it keeps people from possibly getting out of hand.” Traveler interjects. Paimon deflates. 

“Oh, yeah, that makes more sense. I guess that way people are more responsible to keep their word if something does go wrong.” 

Venti doesn’t like that possibility either. “Perhaps if I'd known… Well, if not wine, what else do these Liyuans serve? Tea?” An odd look could only cross Traveler's face before their large server snatches their attention. 

“Welcome! Traveler, Paimon.” They both receive a nod in greeting before the man turns his attention straight to Venti. Smiling widely, he said, “Now there’s a face I haven’t seen. I’m Chef Mao, the executive chef of Wangshu Inn and your server for the night. And you?” 

“Venti,” He winked, offering a hand. “A bard as free as the wind!” 

The man chuckled, clasping Venti’s hand in a firm grip. “A bard, you say? Y’know, we wouldn't mind a performance or two here at the Inn. Though I would strongly advise against performing during rush hour.”

Dropping their intertwined hands, Venti gave a finger salute, “Then it shall be avoided.”

“In that case,” Chef Mao began explaining their food options for the night. Ingredients, flavor, and their most ordered dish — Paimon, of course, was the first to jump out of her seat. Unexpectedly, now wide awake to place in her orders. 

Traveler, who looked appalled at the number of requests, settled for sharing his companions’ inhumanely large cravings. 

Venti, on the other hand, didn’t bother touching anything with a ten—no, five-foot pole. A small appetizer wasn’t the worst fate bestowed upon him. Besides, nearly all the entrees were too smelly, sticky, or Venti’s worst nightmare, having the consistency of a bouncing slime. Blegh. 

Only when Chef Mao seemed to have finished placing everything down, he ask, “Tea?” 

“Tea?” Mao grinned, ear to ear. 

“Imported from Inazuma.” 

Venti chuckled, “Right. Does one seem to have anything else that doesn’t harmonize with the term?” 

Chef Mao clicked his tongue. “Sorry, boss, only water. We do, however, serve apple juice to the little ones.” Venti blatantly ignored the rising smirk crossing Traveler's face. 

“In that case, I shall have a cup of water, please.”

“You sure?” Traveler questioned playfully. Resulting in Venti closing his eyes momentarily. 

A smile graced his features as he said, “Positive.” 

“I’ll have apple juice, Chef Mao!” Venti threw him a glance, “In case I want something sweet.” Mao nor Paimon commented further on their exchange. 

Thus, Mao retreated to the Inn shortly. 

“Do you not like apple-flavored things?”

“Paimon thoesn phelieve ith.” 

“Paimon, don’t talk with your mouth full.” Paimon grinned, retreating to eating. 

“I don’t dislike them. However, having sugar at midnight is already a disaster in itself.”

“But liquor isn’t?” 

“Wine.” Everyone falls into a fit of laughter. 

Soon, the only thing that filled their silence was stories and even jokes on occasion.  

“Oh! And then Paimon flew right over the boar—” Venti clenched his hands, shoulders tensing, face slack— his body suddenly alert. 

Like before, Venti hurried to calculate his surroundings. Hoping to catch what had been raising his hairs, eyeing even the big pot of dirt where the Inn’s side stairs descended. Again, he found… nothing. 

No, that can’t be right. Someone is definitely here, staring or spying. Venti can’t be sure. 

“Venti?” 

“Huh?” Venti did his best to blink away his sudden disturbance. Blinking at a silent Traveler and Paimon. “Uh—”

“Tone-Deaf Bard, were you looking for something just now?” 

“No?” 

“Oh. Was it a bug?” 

“Definitely not.” 

“Dust then?” 

Venti chuckled at that, “Of course not.” 

“Were you looking for someone?” 

Venti grew silent. 

“No. I wasn’t.”

“Oh, I guess Paimon didn’t think of that. Like earlier, Paimon thought you’d been waiting around for someone.”

“I can assure you I wasn’t.” Silence didn’t stretch for long when Paimon minutely decided the topic wasn't as interesting if Venti was being truthful. Even if he was, Traveler seemed skeptical enough to raise tiny warnings in Venti’s vision. 

Surely the topic will be left, forgotten, and dropped by the time they’re done. 

“Ergh, Paimon is stuffed.”

“I’m glad.” Paimon hit her companion's arm at the sarcasm thrown her way. Sooner or later, they picked up after themselves, and Venti happily accompanied his friends back to retrieve their keys. 

Waiting respectively at a distance as they quietly conversed with the receptionist. Now that he had a moment to himself, Venti couldn’t help but tread back to his conversation with the suspicious Traveler. 

Were you looking for someone? Well, in short, yes. Not that it mattered since Venti didn’t know the who in question. Huh, isn’t that laughable? He was an Archon. An Archon who can’t even figure out why he felt so on edge. 

Maybe if he’d been more careful in Mondstat when La Signora popped up, he’d still have his gnosis— granted, he didn’t need it, but when it granted him the power to hear the winds freely and not drain energy when simply using his— a frustrated sigh left him. 

That’s enough. None of that was in his power. What matters is that he tried his best. He grinned. At least he didn’t walk away totally embarrassed. 

“That smirk you wear looks out of place. Did you steal it from your master's face?” She certainly didn’t like that one, did she? 

“Paimon,” Venti moved his gaze to the duo. Watching the silent exchange the two shared, Paimon’s glance, and Traveler, who then handed their room keys to her. 

Venti raised a brow but didn’t question further when Traveler gestured to follow him up three flights of stairs and onto a small balcony. Neither said a peep while they made it to the ledge. Should he be concerned about the lack of words passed? 

“I don’t believe you, you know.” Confused at the statement, Venti grasped the wooden ledge in front of him. 

“You don’t believe me, about what?” 

“About you not looking for something.”

“Ah,”

“So were you?” 

Venti smiled, “If you don’t believe me, why does one acquire confirmation?” 

“Figured if it was just us, you’d tell me.” Venti found himself sighing at that. “You kind of made it obvious you were searching for… well, something.”  

“I…” Would he sound crazy, though? Or was he simply being paranoid about his lack of knowledge about the Inn? “Is there… Perhaps a ghost that lives in these fine walls?” 

The Traveler blinked, “No? At least I don’t think so. Do you sense one here?” 

“I can’t sense things that aren’t there, Traveler.” They blinked. Twice. Then produced a face of surprise. 

“Were you sensing Xiao?” 

“Xiao?” 

“The protector of Liyue. You don’t know him?” 

“I—” 

The Conqueror of Demons, My Archon.

The Archon froze. Whether it had been shock from the wind whispering to him or another reason entirely. 

Whatever it was, Venti did his best to ignore it despite wanting to do the very opposite. Maybe starting with begging the winds to stay. 

Instead, the winds chose to be sparks that decided to ignite to life, dim, and become nonexistent. 

Venti remembers the loss of his gnosis. The loss of the winds whispers. The Archon never realized soon enough how much he’d miss the whispers till they came, and left. 

He cleared his throat at its sudden strain. “I do know of him.” 

After the Conqueror of Demons, Xiao, had left the Archon. He’d told the winds to stay astray from their peering and left it at that. 

Is he here? He wanted to ask. Hoping they’d rise again. Instead, he’d gotten nothing but a flat line of silence. 

Venti didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know if he wanted Traveler's presence. If he needed to be alone… does he need to be alone?

Venti gripped the balcony’s ledge, feeling a soft breeze swirl around them. Watching closely from his peripheral vision as the Traveler clung onto themselves. 

“He protects this Inn as well. He’s probably here—” A shiver. “No doubt.” They snatched their arms, fixing their gaze on Venti. Soon followed by a long sigh. “I know what you’re doing.”

“Doing what?” Venti shrugged, as nonchalantly as he could muster. The Traveler pushed themselves off the ledge. 

“You only had to ask.” They whispered before walking off. Only when Venti knew they were truly gone, taking one final double-take, did he allow himself to sigh heavily. Shoulders dropping and eyes falling shut. 

Ugh, perhaps all Venti required at the moment was another long nap. 

Venti winced at the thought. Okay, maybe he wasn’t that tired. 

His eyes dipped to the balcony below. Watching other guests walk, talk, and laugh. Lights around the Inn were already lit up, producing a pretty hue. Venti raised his gaze, observing clouds dancing around Dragonspine. 

He pushed himself on his tip-toes, squinting. Huh. Was the Yaksha aware of Venti’s homeland? Is that the reason he called for him? Because Venti was but another Archon—or rather, nation—in sight? Hm, maybe he learned about him? Liked him enough to pray…

Venti shut his eyes, dropping his heavy head. “Ugh.” Well… despite his lingering questions, there is something that could cheer him up.

Venti ushered the wind to guide him on the ledge, positioning his leg under his thigh. Yes, a view like this deserves a sweet melody. Venti positioned his hands to pop his instrument into life—

“Lord Barbatos.” Venti gasped, whirling at the call. Mouth gaping at the one present as his fingers hardened around the balcony’s ledge. 

It was the Yaksha. Clean. With not a drop of blood in sight. To a single call for Barbatos, Venti felt as if his breath single-handedly flew away. Even if the name in question was not one he was expecting— “It is you.” Venti vibrated with profound nerves as Xiao immediately bowed his head in greeting. 

It was him. The staring he felt earlier… It was Xiao. There’s no doubt about that now. Despite being at a loss for words, Venti forced himself to find his voice. “Lord Barbatos?” 

Xiao raised his head. Piercing Venti with his sharp gaze. Venti followed the movement of his brows drawing together as Xiao simply examined his person. Venti didn’t care to move an inch at the pinpointed glare. Instead, he said, “It does seem a bit fruitless to deny what is true. However, right now, I am merely Venti.” 

The Yaksha— Xiao tilted his head a fraction. “Venti?” Not able to contain his giddiness, Venti hopped off the ledge, extending his hand. 

“Venti the bard. And you?” Xiao flickered his eyes at the offered hand to his own. Ever so slightly, even peeking a glance at Venti. With the slight attention, Venti did his very best to encourage the contemplating Yaksha into following through with such a simple gesture. A grin spread across his lips at the sight alone.

Though in the end, all Xiao could offer was another formal bow. “I am Adeptus Xiao.” Venti blinked, bewildered at the repeated gesture. Does Xiao do that often? Some form of greeting, he suddenly doesn’t seem to enjoy coming from him. 

Venti returned his hand to his side. Swallowing every question that rose— and drowning it to the back of his mind. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Xiao. So, since you’re here. Has it been you who’s been stalking me all night, Xiao?” 

Venti smirked at Xiao, who now avoided his gaze. So it was him. A hunch, but correct nonetheless. 

“I’ve only…” Venti cocked his head to the side, smile wavering. “I had to be sure it was you, Ba— Venti.” 

“Ah,” Venti grasped his neck, “of course.” 

How very unbecoming of him. A bard at heart. Known for speaking the most beautiful words, now rendered speechless. Well, what is he supposed to say to that?

Perhaps if Venti had simply thought of their potential run-in, he wouldn’t be questioning right from wrong. Clearing his throat, Venti asked, “How are you?” Gaining no response. “Or, how has your night been thus far?” 

“You do not need to concern yourself with my well-being.”

“Oh. Well, I am interested in knowing. Even if it’s as simple as a breeze.” 

“I have been the same as I have always been, Venti. I’ll feel this way tonight, tomorrow, and every day that comes after.” 

Venti blinked, shocked at the declaration. “Do you not feel any different about your days as you have been living, Xiao?” 

Xiao moved to speak, only to pause. Seeming to rethink his actions. Venti hopes he was simply pondering his question.

Instead, he spoke with practiced rhythm. “It is as I said.” Xiao bowed once more, and Venti had to physically bite back his tongue. Lest he comment on a habit he seemed to have. 

“I shall assure you this place is safe and watched over. You are safe, Venti.”

Then Xiao vanished. 

Leaving a frozen, stunned Venti. 

“Oh, why is Paimon not surprised?” Venti’s eyes flickered to the duo, smiling. “Paimon could’ve sworn the lady said no drinking in the morning!” 

Venti threw his head back, finishing the rest of his wine. Wiping his bottom lip once his glass hit the table, “Wine shall be consumed at any time of the day, Paimon!” 

“How did you even get that?” 

“I can be very persuasive, you know. Isn’t that right, Chef Mao?” Venti gained a heartfelt laugh from the man in question. 

When everyone was sleeping and only the kitchen was awake, Venti found it to be the perfect opportunity to further gain his friendship. At first, Venti wasn’t sure the man would let him hang around, but he was perfectly fine with it. 

Sparking conversation about upcoming appetizers, entrees— giving Venti pointers on the times to come, playing for guests. Only because Venti was with Mao, he’d ordered him to help around till the Sun rose. 

Venti, of course, obliged. For a bottle of wine. 

“For a price. Everything for a price.” Chef Mao turned, finally catching the eye of the new faces. “Ah, Traveler and Paimon. Feeling breakfast this morning?”

“Ooh! Paimon’s always in the mood for breakfast!” Floating happily to Chef Mao, she quickly began making requests. 

Venti reached for his bottled wine, swirling the glass. Hm, nearly empty. “So, how was your night?” 

“Absolutely wonderful. And you?”

“As good as a night could get. Paimon wouldn’t stop snoring.” He deflated. Venti almost looked sorry before a laugh bubbled out of his mouth. He could definitely see that. 

“Besides that, any insight on your plans for today?” 

“Hm, I can’t say I know for certain.” Venti shrugged, bringing the last bit of wine to his lips. “Guess we’ll just have to see wherever the wind takes me.” 

Their conversation didn’t go past that as Paimon was soon done with her orders. Beckoning them to keep up as she zoomed up the stairs. 

Traveler reached out for her to slow down, and Venti took that as a cue: “See you later, Chef Mao!” He waved enthusiastically, getting one in return. “Woah!” Venti’s hand flew to grasp the stairs’ railing. His hand reached to rub his head, “Is everything—”

“Zhongli!” Venti popped his head out from behind Traveler. Oh brother— “Paimon didn’t expect to see you here! We were just about to eat. If you aren’t busy, you can join us!” She invited, pointing behind her. 

“Breakfast with the Traveler and Paimon.” His eyes found Venti, and he did his absolute best to hide the rising grimace at the familiar face. “Ah, I don’t believe we’ve yet been introduced properly. I’m Zhongli. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” 

What a buffoon. 

“Venti. Lovely to meet you.” That has got to be the shortest introduction he’s ever given. Given, he is trying. 

Zhongli, as he now knows, isn’t exactly his best friend at the moment. He certainly isn’t going to pretend he is either. Not in a million years. Yeah, if it even took a million years to finally see eye-to-eye with the God of Contracts. 

Thus, with no further pleasantries from Venti, Zhongli moved his attention back to the famous duo. “Excellent. However, I must inform you, I came here in light of meeting a close friend. I hope you don’t mind another joining us.”

“Oh, not at all!” 

Venti might as well have blinked because one moment they were chatting up a storm, and the next they were all waiting for food. Well, other than Paimon, who never stopped her guesses for who Zhongli ought to meet up with at this time of day. 

Venti ignored almost everything the man had said. Swirling his water and watching the ripples it produced in his small cup. Interested in anything his eyes could see as not to listen to another minute. 

“Though I am intrigued by your stay here at Wangshu Inn, Venti?” 

Venti’s lips moved in a tight line, “It’s an experience. Although I can’t say for sure it’s one’s cup of tea.” Immediately relishing in the slight eye twitch he received. He’d have to apologize to Traveler later if their silence and bouncing eyes were anything to go by. 

Light tension only continued to rise into the sun’s air. 

Zhongli simply chuckled, seeming unfazed. “I understand. It can’t be helped. I know some can’t help treading back to places they find most comfortable. Maybe one day Liyue can be a place you come back to.”

Venti is going to strangle him. Okay. Nothing that extreme. One can get creative, no?

A bright smile crossed him, “Of course! Though I’m sure if wine here were more attainable, adventurers surely would be lining up down the block! I guess having to sign a contract every time they wanted a drink would be quite bothersome. Wouldn’t you agree?” 

Zhongli raised a brow, eyes darting to Traveler. Venti took the opportunity to gesture towards him. “I’m sure even the esteemed Traveler can speak up on the matter. Traveler?” 

Their shoulders tensed, Zhongli sighed, and Venti knew he had lost. Crossing his arms in annoyance, he murmured, “I am only spitting apples here.”

“If it is wine you want at this hour, I am sure a few requests will bring you exactly what you want.”

Venti wanted to scoff, though he had no right considering the wine emanating off his person. He wasn’t a total lost cause if he didn’t have a drink in hand. Venti only found it absurd to have a drinking hour along with a contract. 

“My water is fine, thank you.” 

No one spoke after that. Not until Paimon picked up the conversation, forcing the three to get into a rhythm Venti would rather stay out of. 

If he had just kept his mouth shut, Traveler— including Paimon— wouldn't currently be sending him wary looks every three minutes. 

Seemed Zhongli rather found conversing over his tea was quite more interesting than Venti slouching across from him. 

Venti couldn’t hold the embarrassment much longer. Moving to drink his water silently as Paimon’s laugh vibrated in the air— 

Barbatos. 

Venti gasped— immediately drowning. His cup banging on the table rang in the air as water sputtered out of his mouth. His vision blurred, and his coughs continued, resulting in him hitting his chest multiple times. 

“Tone-Deaf Bard!” Venti raised a hand, dismissing her worries. All he cared about at the moment was getting air pumping in his lungs. 

“I’m—fine.” Taking a few deep breaths, and his eyes clearing, he found eyes drilling holes into him. “I predict the water trailed down the wrong pipe, haha.” 

“Ugh, don’t scare Paimon like that!” 

“You sure you’re okay, Venti?” 

“Mhm. Positive.” Traveler grimaced at his raspy reply, but it was dropped. Leaving Venti alone— 

It’s me, Xiao. 

Venti dropped his head, body thrumming. 

Whether you can hear me… or not. I… I want to apologize for the other night. Talking to you like that— as if you were simply a mortal passing by… I dismissed your question, and… if you felt offended by me doing so. It was not my intention. Perhaps next time, I shall accept your hand—

A genuine smile danced over his lips. Oh, Xiao. Of course, he wasn’t offended—not in the slightest. Given he hardly ever was unless it’d be one of those rare occurrences. 

Even so, hearing Xiao’s consideration, including his apology, was more than enough to practically leave Venti more curious than ever. 

Otherwise, if you’re there, thank you for your time.

Silence

Venti raised his head slightly, glancing around. Is Xiao here? Somewhere around? Should he excuse himself and find out for himself? Yeah, no, not a good idea. 

Venti stole a glance at Zhongli. In which he seemed the most relaxed amongst all. 

Something suddenly ignited in him. He couldn’t explain it— especially not at a time like this— but Xiao was praying… and there was definitely something different about it. 

Perhaps it was Xiao calling his attention in a more conscious manner that made it different. Hm. He only wished to understand such simplicity. 

Or… Venti’s lip quirked up. Maybe it was the fact that it had been one of Zhongli’s people that made him so giddy.  Ah, now that was thrilling. In fact, Venti has never felt so smug. 

“Venti?” He immediately peered at the call. Not caring to hide his eluded surprise at the unexpected face that stood but a couple of feet away. 

Venti didn’t do much to stop his already rising smile. “Xiao! Good morning.” How else could he describe their fateful encounter? 

Though Venti hoped for a reply in return, his mood didn’t change in the slightest when all he received was a little nod. 

“Zhongli. If you are busy, I can find you later.” 

“Nonsense, Xiao. Please, do join us.” Zhongli persisted. Gesturing to the empty seat to his right. Venti’s left. 

“Yeah, Xiao! Join us!” Paimon squealed, beckoning him with as much enthusiasm as she could. The Traveler also encouraged him quietly. 

Although he lingered where he stood, it didn’t take long for Xiao to find his offered seat. Venti unashamedly followed his tense yet precise movements. Oh, Venti very much wanted to strike up a conversation with Xiao, but how should one start such a thing? 

The possibilities of conversation were quite endless. 

“We haven’t seen you in a while, Xiao!” Paimon started, “What have you been up to?” 

“Paimon, let him settle.” 

“Huh? Oh. Oh! Of course, of course! Eat now, talk later.” Paimon ushered, nodding vehemently, causing the Traveler to sulk momentarily. 

The conversation picked up quite easily after that. Well, besides Venti, who sat back, taking the opportunity in stride. Leaning closer to Xiao, he whispered, “It’s nice to see you again, Xiao. How has one been thus far?” 

Xiao’s gaze flickered to Venti. “I’ve been fine.” 

Venti hummed, appeased. “I’m most glad to hear.” 

Xiao didn’t take much effort to voice anything more than asked. His expression, still neutral since he’d arrived. Huh, Venti guessed that had been his expression last night as well.

Venti eased back in his chair, reaching for his glass. Does Xiao not make many expressions? If so, should he test his speculation? It was a bit far-fetched, but the idea certainly isn’t a bad one. A harmless one at most. 

Venti would only eye him for a moment before he’d make up his mind. 

He took a sip of his water before returning it to its original place. Leaning once more into Xiao’s space, “Though I’d be more than willing to hear you speak my name, Venti, when you speak to me in the confinements of your prayers.” 

Xiao blinked, eyes widening, mouth parting— Venti smirked, mission accomplished. “I can make an exception.” 

Xiao grunted, closing his eyes, he crossed his arms. A bit too firm to ever be considered a relaxed position. 

A cleared throat cut through to Venti, gaining his attention. Three sets of eyes on him, shortly moving to Xiao. Needless to say, the eyes never met Venti’s person again. 

“Xiao? Are you okay?” A laugh bubbled up his throat as he glanced to assess the question towards Xiao. It was a sight to see, no doubt. 

Xiao with closed eyes, brows drawn in, and a light pink hue that painted his ears. Thanks to Xiao’s obvious embarrassment, Venti was able to conclude his theory quite early. 

Another grunt left Xiao and Venti really couldn’t stop the stifled laughter that escaped him. All questions suddenly pinned on him. 

“Tone-Deaf Bard, what did you do?” Venti offered a little shrug. Doing quite well to feign his lack of awareness of the situation. Nothing could get Venti to fess up about his newfound interest. 

Now, Venti knew Xiao expressing anything other than nonchalance was surprising enough to others for him to get interrogated on the matter. 

Luckily, the spotlight didn’t remain on him for long as Zhongli interrupted Xiao for his food of choice. The answer was immediate. 

“I do not need to eat. I am fine.” 

“Not even if it were Almond Tofu?”

Venti watched the Yaksha closely as his eyes dipped while his fingers began digging into his forearm. Even his posture became stiffer than Venti had ever seen. Venti watched all of it. 

It was only shortly after Xiao gave a nod that Zhongli rose. “In that case, it’s best I raise this new plate of food to the chef’s attention.” 

The Traveler pushed themselves up, “Want me to come along?” Zhongli hummed, gracing the Traveler with a smile. Venti would be stupid to miss the flicker in Zhongli’s gaze as Traveler turned to their companion. “Paimon?”

“Yes! Paimon uh— also needs a few wise words from you, Zhongli!” Venti grinned at the whole display. Not caring to hide his cheeky expression as he watched them leave. 

Only when Venti saw none of the familiar silhouettes in sight did he speak loudly and clearly to Xiao. “Would you like to take my hand now?” He teased. 

“Your hand?” 

“Oh, don’t act oblivious to me now, Xiao. Perhaps next time I shall accept your hand?” 

“You were listening.” 

“Oh? You thought I wouldn’t? I am the one you were talking to, Xiao.” Xiao turned his face away from view. “You’re not going back on your word now, are you?” 

A light huff left Xiao, “I never do.” Venti smirked, not hesitating to offer his hand. Letting two glances escape before humming thoughtfully. 

It was then that Xiao raised his left hand, hovering over the bard's palm. Venti opened his mouth to voice another light-hearted complaint, only for his breath to still and his words to retract. 

Feeling as Xiao pressed his middle finger against his open hand, tracing his way down to Venti’s middle finger. If he hadn’t been staring, he would’ve easily mistaken it for the wind. 

Especially since his touch left and never returned. 

Xiao crossed his arms. “You are different, Venti. I apologize for assuming you understood that fact.” 

Venti, despite being bug-eyed, slowly retracted his hand. He’s different? Different in what sense? As far as he was concerned, Xiao was nearly the same as him. Well, that’s not considering the fact Venti was… oh. Wait a minute— “Xiao, are you thinking of me as some high-level being?” 

A moment of silence. 

“You are an Archon.” 

Well, he wasn’t wrong. Still, Xiao was as much of a deity as Venti was! 

Hm. However, since they were on the topic. 

“Xiao, please. Humor me. Why is it you seek another Archon and not your own?”

Xiao sucked in his breath. “I—ahem. I didn’t realize it made you uncomfortable.” 

“What— Xiao—”

“If so, I’ll stop.” 

Silence passed through them again. Venti just didn’t allow himself to dwell in the silence as Xiao’s words replayed on loop in his mind. 

If so, I’ll stop. I’ll stop. Stop. Xiao would cease praying to Venti altogether? 

To be quite frank, Venti hadn’t heard a single peep from Xiao since that day decades ago. Things left unsaid. Actions that spoke louder than words ever could — but Xiao finally spoke to him. 

Given that it had been very little, Venti fixated his gaze on the silent Yaksha— Xiao’s lack of words was just enough for Venti to take comfort in his presence. Just as it did when they first “met.”

Needless to say, Venti had finally gotten part of that vulnerability back. Plus, after seeing the way Xiao acted around their friends, he wasn’t so sure he was ready to give that up just yet. 

“Xiao,” The Yaksha reluctantly dropped his head, and Venti, without much thought, reached to catch the motion. Gently caressing the soft skin under his fingertips. Even if Xiao’s round eyes were amusing, Venti had to drop his hand. He had to. 

“It was never my intention to raise that suspicion in you. To suspect I felt uncomfortable in any way, no matter how fleeting it may have been. Xiao, no matter what happens, never cease to seek me out if it is what you wish. Whether it be in person or in prayer”  

The others are returning, My Archon. 

Venti bit down on his shock at the whispers. Keep them away longer. If the winds heard his demand, they never voiced it. 

“It was you I sought out that day,” Xiao whispered. 

“I know.”

“And you came.”

“I did.” 

“Why?” 

Venti’s features hardened, “Why? Xiao, why wouldn’t I aid you?” 

“I do not reign in the crowd of your people. I belong under the Geo Archon. Yet you answered. And saved me.”

“Xiao, you—” Venti cut himself off at the chatter coming from inside the Inn. Glancing at the popping heads coming into view, he leaned to whisper, “Later.” 

If they noticed the shift in Xiao’s and Venti’s mood, they never voiced it. Too lost in their high spirits. 

It’s early afternoon, and Venti is collecting Sunsettia’s. 

Well, trying to. 

Being cooped up in the Inn for longer than an hour felt suffocating enough for Venti to take an afternoon stroll. Sure, he left the stuffy kitchen at times to help with guests to repay his “debt”, but he desperately needed a break.

Especially since Xiao never stayed back. Given he didn’t have to. Venti’s glad Xiao left and didn’t stay back just because he told him to. 

So he left. Wandering off to where he is now. 

Standing tall under the blazing sun with a single hand over his eyebrow. A feeble attempt to block out the bright star from burning his eyes out. All while he kept a close distance to his prize. Or as he liked to put it. 

“Not as delicious as an apple,” he mused, finally crossing the distance between him and the tall, bulky tree. “But still just as tasty.” 

You’re crossing the line, My Archon. 

Venti stuttered in his footing. Immediately absorbed what was stolen from him. “Am I?” 

The Conqueror of Demons is under a contract. 

Is it wise to mingle? 

Three sentences. That’s more than he’d received from the wind in a single year. The Archon would be lying if he said he didn’t miss their whispers. However, if they were engaging in conversation, Venti could gloat about their absence later. 

Right now, Venti would enjoy this rare moment. Even if the “moment” was currently on the topic of a certain Yaksha. 

“I trust you know that this bard did not forget such a thing. Besides, it’s fine.” Venti shrugged, extending his arm to reach the closest Sunsettia. 

It’s not a good idea, My Archon. 

Venti swung his arm. Huh. So maybe the fruit was a bit far. He tried wiggling his fingers before responding. “What’s not a good idea?” No response. He retracted his arm, grasping the thick trunk as he stared at his glowing Sunsettia. 

A minute ticked by, and still no response. A low groan left him, “If only we were talking about my soon-to-be fruit.” 

No, My Archon. Sadly, your fruit is merely a fruit. 

Venti narrowed his eyes at his now taunting fruit. Continuing his reach, he extended his arm once more. “And the Yaksha is simply a Yaksha. He’s not going to dismiss his contract just because I’m present.” 

Venti gasped— his foot scraping against the weak hold he was atop of— hands flying to clasp the tree with both hands. Carefully peeking his gaze over his shoulder, searching quietly for another hole to place his foot in. 

Sighing in relief when he did. Fixing his hat, he cleared his throat. “And I’m not going to distract him.” 

Do you mean that, My Archon? 

Is the Yaksha simply— and truly— that to you? 

“I said it didn’t I?” Ugh. Did he even seem close to reaching his fruit? The wind went quiet. Which now leaves him to continue his task at hand. 

Swinging his arm back and forth, wiggling his fingers. His head had even started to move back. As if that was going to get him closer. 

He huffed, pointing on his toes— a smile broke out on his face. His Sunsettia swayed as his fingertips poked it. All he needed was a bit more… Ahah! He pulled the fruit— and his foot slipped. 

Fight or flight kicked in instantly before a change in the winds— a harsh force, and a solid form restricted his instincts from coming forth. Venti dipped his eyes, following a green pattern of line art. Turning his head and making eye contact with—“Xiao!” 

“Venti.” 

“What are you doing here?” 

Xiao glanced around, “keeping guard.” 

“Keeping guard? Did one come across something amiss?”

“Not yet.” Xiao returned his attention to Venti, eyes flickering to Venti’s held reward. “There are Sunsettias at the Inn.” 

“Hm, you’re not wrong.” He responded, inspecting it. “But I shan’t pay ten mora on a single Sunsettia. Not when I can acquire one free of charge!” 

Xiao sighed, and Venti rose slightly at the movement. Right. He was still up here. With their conversation, Venti hadn’t paid much mind to it. 

As if Xiao had been reading Venti’s mind, he began to set him down. “Just… watch your step next time.” 

“Of course, of course! Hmm, here! Ripe and sweet.” 

Xiao didn’t even spare it a glance, “You went through all that trouble, you should savour it for yourself. Besides,” Xiao swept his gaze behind Venti. “I’d rather not eat it.” 

“That’s okay. You know, Mondstat is full of Apple trees. So I climb a good plenty of 'em.” 

“Hm.”

“Well, as you can see, I’m no stranger to falling off one either.” No response. No grunt. Nothing. Other than his hardening features, “Xiao? Is everything—” Venti’s eyes darted to Xiao’s sudden summoning of his weapon. 

Venti immediately urged the winds to conduct a deeper investigation into Xiao’s mood shift. “What’s wrong?” 

Venti turned, eyes locking with another. A masked bandit swiftly raised his crossbow, aiming it at Venti. “Don’t move!” Two more bandits popped out behind bright yellow bushes, already pointing their weapons toward them. 

“Hand over all your goods!” 

Venti pulled his lips in a tight smile. Raising his hands in surrender. “Sorry to disappoint — but we have naut on our person that one could simply want!” 

The two exchanged a glance while the leader kept his eyes trained on Venti. Taunting his weapon further, the man took a few calculated steps forward. His weapon now threatening to poke his eye out. 

The man opened his mouth to speak, eyes widening, and he took his eyes off Venti. Xiao had moved so quickly that Venti hadn’t even noticed the man’s predicament. His weapon barely grazed the bandit's neck. If he were to so much as flinch… Oh brother. It’s a line of catastrophe waiting to happen. 

He knew Xiao could fight them all at once and come out as the victor, he knew that. Why he hasn’t, he has yet to understand.

The quicker they get this over with, the quicker they can get back to their task at hand: Sunsettia talk. Even if that conversation had been a bit one-sided. 

Venti cleared his throat, and the man fixed his grip. “Well, we certainly don’t need to go this far now, do we?” 

“Tell him to lower his weapon. Now. I won’t ask twice.” Well, that… was an odd command. Venti took a glance at Xiao. Why would Venti order Xiao to do anything? Besides, shouldn’t the attacker be the one ordering him around himself? 

What a lousy person. 

In the end, Venti shrugged mindlessly. As if he weren’t a trigger away from a very unpleasant death. “I won’t. I mean, considering our odds, that would be very one-sided now, wouldn’t it?” 

“Tch. I don’t care if it’s one-sided! Just shut up!—” Xiao whipped his weapon in a circle, the end of it colliding with the bandit's head, swift and precise. 

Venti could only watch as the man’s eyes rolled back, before hitting the dirt, now lying unconscious. 

“That was… quick thinking.” The other two began running to attack, and Venti didn’t hesitate to summon his weapon to help — something glistened in the light — he ducked below a flying arrow.

Okay. Now, something was clear. There were more than three bandits on their trail. 

Loud rustling came from behind him—

My Archon, behind y—

“Ack!” Venti’s knees scraped against small rocks as his face collided with the harsh dirt. A snarl erupting from atop him, a female. 

“Ugh! I hate running into people like you. You vision holders always think you’re above everyone else!” Venti groaned, raising his head — the female pushed him back in place. “Give us your goods, that’s all we want!” 

“We… have… nothing.” He gritted, gasping at the sharp tug of his fake vision. His eyes snapped to the jingles falling from the angry action. “Hey!” He tried for his weapon, not in reach. 

He resulted in swatting her hand away. “That’s not of any use to you!” 

“I think that’s for me to— ergh…” Silence fell upon the two as the woman let go of her rough hold on Venti’s head. Stunned at Xiao’s stance as he pushed his weapon into the female's cheek, her face morphed into fear. 

“Get off. Now.” She scrambled back, leaving a clean cut in her place. “Leave.” Needless to say, she didn’t waste a second. 

“Your vision.” 

“It is a vision. A fake one. No worries, think of it more as a.. hm, a pretty ornament.” He suggested moving into a sitting position. “Besides, I should be able to fix this in less than three minutes!” 

“You made that?” 

“Why, of course I did! Looks just like the real deal, huh?” Venti then began presenting it. Ignoring the dangling feather and cracked glass. 

Xiao shifted his gaze to his wrist before quietly muttering a soft, “yeah.” 

Venti grinned, “Anyhoo. Thank you for… that. I suppose now I am in debt to you.” 

“No need. This is what I do. I have no use for your offer.” He said, offering a hand. Venti took it gratefully. Swatting any remains of dirt that lingered on his person. His tights were stained. Great. 

“Here,” Venti peered up, “you barely have enough for a Sunsettia. Best to not let it go to waste.” 

Venti chuckled, reaching to retrieve his well-earned fruit. 

Staring at the Sunsettia for a moment before speaking, “Right. Listen, Xiao, about earlier…” 

A grunt left him, “I should go.” 

Venti cringed at the arousing protest that grew from him at Xiao’s dismissal. Masking his disappointment with a small smile. “Yeah, of course.” He said, nodding. “Yeah.” Watching silently as Xiao began taking his leave. 

Humming as Xiao stopped, turning an inch to glance back, he said, “Watch your back.” Venti snickered. 

It was a bit early for a joke like that, but Venti didn’t care. Whether Xiao meant it as one or not, Venti found it amusing, and that was enough. 

Clutching both items in hand, Venti waved Xiao off. 

Xiao may not want to converse now, but even Venti knew the outcome of their conversation was inevitable. 

Deafening chatter filled Venti with profound ease. 

He laughed, smiled, waved, and even introduced himself to many others as he made his way around the bustling city. 

Performing three songs and four short poems. In Venti’s eyes, at least, this was a great night. An even finer night if he could somehow acquire some sort of strong drink to sip on. 

 It was absurd — every stand around denied Venti a single glimpse of anything of the sort. Some use his child-like features as an excuse, others explain he’d have to dine in. 

Eventually, he’d given up his fruitless search for a drink. Instead, he found himself musing with a storyteller. Falling into silence as the man spilled his story’s contents. Which gave Venti a moment to dive into his thoughts about his earlier run-in with Xiao. 

He’s been quite quiet since. Very quiet. In Venti’s opinion. Not even a single slash could be heard in the wind. Perhaps Venti should be concerned? Or maybe that’s treading a bit too far over the line Xiao had put between them. 

The storyteller began taking a bow, taking in the applause as he walked off the stage. 

Nonetheless, Venti wanted to talk about it.  It might not be an easy conversation given the circumstances, but that’s precisely why Venti wanted to tread over it. Getting that obstacle fixed could allow Venti to understand Xiao, and that’s exactly what he wants. 

Venti brought his hands down, caressing his fingers over his fake vision. Maybe if he had simply asked Xiao to stay a bit longer while he fixed his vision— 

“Venti.”

“Wah—gli! Zhongli!” Venti huffed, placing a hand over his rapid heart. “Please. A warning next time.” 

“I apologize.” He chuckled. “It was certainly not my intention to catch you while your guard was down. However, I noticed you wandering through these parts, enjoying your time?” 

“I was, yes. Though one has to admit the expense is a bit more than Mondstat.” Venti sighed, “This bard just simply can’t afford to spend such a crazy amount of mora on a single Grilled Fish.” 

“I see,” Zhongli said, a light of amusement on his tongue. 

“And you? How have you been enjoying nightly hours around Liyue?” 

“Hm. Usually around such times, I enjoy people watching with a nice hot tea in hand. Or occasionally a story of the past. I favor that young gentleman over there. He speaks around these hours.”

Venti turned at the indication, and there he was. Stepping on stage with a single fan in hand and a smile. Only when the man cleared his throat and began speaking did he turn back to Zhongli. “And pray tell, why aren’t you over there enjoying such an act?” 

Venti wasn’t far from the stage, but he wasn’t close either. When he imagined Zhongli enjoying himself with tea, it was in one of the front row seats. Not in the back with Venti of all people. 

Zhongli cleared his throat, “I have… other matters that require my attention. A — meeting of some sort.” 

If Venti were a bunny, his ears would’ve perked up at the words. A matter Zhongli willingly brought to Venti’s attention wasn’t exactly common. What did it consist of, and why did he feel the need to bring it up with Venti? 

The curiosity, however, was very, very fleeting. 

Anything remotely close to engaging in a meeting, consider him out. He didn’t like them. They were too long, boring, and political for him. Unless absolutely necessary, Venti would never openly throw himself in jail to talk his ear off about useless things. 

That being said, Venti didn’t waste time to begin cracking his knuckles before saying, “Of course, of course. This bard won’t hold you for too long. Never feel pressured to stay in conversation longer than needed.” Besides, perhaps one more song will lift his spirits. 

“This matter I speak of, involves you, Venti.” 

His cracking came to a pause, “I- what? Me?” 

“I want to assure you not to get the wrong idea, but I’m afraid this matter must be resolved, perhaps more secluded.” 

“Have I somehow done something wrong?” 

“I promise it’s nothing of the sort.” 

Venti swallowed, “Then excuse my ignorance, but, if it has nothing to do with me, why—”

“Because it involves Xiao.” 

Silence fell between them. It was cheers and claps that broke it. 

“I don’t understand.” 

“I’ve set up a secluded room for us to discuss—”

“If it involves Xiao, does that mean he’s in some sort of trouble?” Did his silence indicate anything? “Is he okay?” 

A frustrated sight left Zhongli, “Yes, Xiao is okay.” 

“So then what’s wrong—”

“Venti.” He frowned, forcing Venti to shut down his questions. “If you would follow me.”

That’s how Venti found himself sitting still in a stuffy room. A windowed room he’d never walked in if it weren’t for the obvious reasons. 

Oh, tea included. 

 “So,” he spoke, hesitantly reaching for his small cup. Watching his reflection for a moment, “This so-so matter that involves me and Xiao.” 

Zhongli had already taken comfort in his familiar space. Sipping his tea with no apparent urgency. Humming at either the taste or Venti. He wasn’t sure. 

Either way, his lack of energy on the matter at hand was for sure getting him irritated. Fingers itching to grab something— his hat perhaps, and fan himself due to the humidity of the room. 

Or perhaps that’d been wishful thinking to toss it in Zhongli’s face. 

“As you’re well aware and surely confused, I’ve brought you here to converse about Xiao.” 

“Yeah, you keep mentioning that. Any reason you haven’t yet indulged the reason aloud?” 

“Your affiliation.” 

Venti physically reeled back. “My affiliation? I’m assuming you mean my affiliation with Xiao?” A nod followed by a light laugh from Venti, “Not that I have any problem with telling you, Zhongli. But we’re friends.” 

“Friends?” 

“Why is that suddenly your concern?” 

“I assure you, Venti. Xiao has been and always will be my concern. He’s very capable of befriending whomever he chooses. It’s—”

“What? It’s not him, it’s me? What are you so concerned I might do? Hurt him? Because I can assure you now, I’m not planning to.” 

“I don’t think you are either. But that’s precisely my problem.” 

Venti blew out an exaggerated breath, “This is all a bit much, no? I mean, I’ve only started talking to Xiao for no more than two days, and I’m already on your bad radar?” 

“There is no radar to be on. If you could simply explain your curiosity for the Yaksha.” 

“Is curiosity a bad thing?” 

“Hm, curiosity is exactly what I expected from you. Yet still your words continue to place a sense of unease within me. How far are you planning on going with this curiosity?” 

Venti scoffed, “Should one be offended by your choice of words, Zhongli? I am not some stupid boy—”

“No. You are not. You are an Archon.” The air stilled around him as he froze completely. What was Zhongli trying to say? Matter of fact, what was Zhongli attempting to put in Venti’s head that he struggled to pick up on? 

“Are you somehow suggesting a divine being like me shouldn’t coexist alongside the Yaksha simply because you’re uneasy?” 

“I reckon my unease is bigger than I let on.” Venti eyed Zhongli cautiously as he extended a paper filled with words to his eye. Without knowing any better, Venti took it without a second thought. Eyes flying over the page. 

Venti turned to Zhongli, appalled. “Is this some kind of joke?” 

“Hardly. It is stated—”

“All contact towards the young Adeptus Xiao must be accepted by the Geo Archon, Morax. You?” The ground buzzed at the notion. “That’s absurd. Is the Adeptus not free to speak to whomever?” 

“He is. This contract is not in any way, shape, or form connected to him. It is strictly for you, Venti.” 

Venti placed the contract on the table. Shocked to the core, Zhongli would ever, ever present him with a contract. A contract! Of all things. 

Would Venti even dare sign it? No. 

“What do you hope to gain in a situation such as this?” 

“Closure.” 

Venti tapped his finger on his lap, annoyed. “That’s not good enough.” 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“To say you want closure is one thing. Presenting me with a contract is another thing entirely. Something I find rather disrespectful.” 

“Hm, I assure—”

“The answer is no, Zhongli. I’m not signing the contract. I live freely, with no restraints. This? Is not an exception.” 

Zhongli sighed, seeming tired. “I understand. Of course, I knew you wouldn’t. Nonetheless…” 

Venti snorted, “And you still asked?” Zhongli grew quiet. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, Zhongli. But this cannot possibly be controlled by a couple of words.” 

“Words that hold so much weight, power, and reason. Something you are currently failing to do.” 

“No, what I’m failing to understand is why we’re even having this discussion without the Adeptus present.” 

“You continue to dance in circles around your own misjudgment.” Venti opened his mouth to protest, “I am here, providing you with a contract, hoping to rest assured of Xiao’s position.” 

“You believe he will stray from his post?” 

Zhongli set his cup down. “Everyone has their place. I have the right to worry he will become distracted—”

“He won’t.” 

“And you know how?” 

“I don’t.” Venti admits, “You know, out of the two of us, I didn’t think you’d be the more abrasive one.” 

“I am merely looking out for my people.” Venti raised a concerning brow. “Everyone has their ways, Venti. Whether it be living freely or bound to a contract. It is all the same yet different, in its secluded way. This is what keeps Liyue at peace.” 

“Such ways I shall never understand. Truly.” Zhongli hummed, and Venti dipped his chin. Further showing his stubbornness in this whole ordeal. In fact, this whole situation was about as silly as a circus. “I’m afraid you and I won’t ever see eye to eye with this one, Mr. Zhongli.” 

“I see. Then, if it is we who cannot see eye to eye…” 

Venti narrowed his eyes at the unsaid implication. Eyeing warily the slow action of Zhongli setting his cup down. The clatter echoed through the rising silence. 

“Perhaps we can attempt to see this as Archons.” 

Venti shut this meeting out of view, groaning. “Always the extreme with you.” No response. Huh. So he is being serious. “Zhongli, nothing is going to change my mind. Not even a conversation as gods.” 

“It has to. For Xiao’s sake.” 

“For his sake? Or for yours?” 

“Meddling with the Conqueror of Demons isn’t some kind of game. I’m sure even you know the karma that outweighs him.” 

“Yes. His karmic debt that affects mortals.” Venti became quite aware of it the night he and Xiao first clashed with one another. The sickening, choking sensation that filled its way to Venti’s throat that night was unforgettable. He couldn’t forget about it even if he wanted to. 

“Getting too close to it causes madness. Even death.” 

Venti eyed him, “for mortals.” 

“Yes.” 

Venti pinched the bridge of his nose, “I am not mortal, Zhongli. Therefore, your argument is fruitless. I’ll be fine, Xiao will be fine, and so will you. Now. Now that we've got that out of the way,” Venti stood. “I believe I’ve had just about enough of this meet—”

“Barbatos, sit. Down.” 

Venti glared, “Excuse me?” 

“I did not bring you here for nothing. I have received everything but a clear answer from you.” 

“You’re being ridiculous—”

“I’m not forbidding you from speaking with him, I’m just asking you, what about him is making you so curious?” 

Venti scoffed, “I’m not confiding in you about this.” 

“Barbatos—” 

“Venti.” 

“Unless you have a definitive answer, I don’t have to provide you with any further explanation. I don’t want you fiddling around, Xiao.” 

“You can’t stop me from doing anything. The only one who can argue against that is Xiao himself. Not you nor I.” 

“Speaking on his behalf… where the Adeptus can’t speak, I do it for him. That is why we have a contract.” Venti went silent, glaring at the rising man. “Until then, you know where to find me. Stated under paragraph four.” 

Venti shot up from his seat, ignoring the blatantly obvious taunt. “That contract—”

“Which you know nothing of.” 

“Cannot be a one-way street. There’s no way you would conjure a contract stating you can speak on Xiao’s behalf for him! It’s not right—”

“Enough.” Venti’s breath staggered, body shaking. “My word is final. Any future conversation you have with Xiao, I will know about.” 

“You’re going to tell him?” No answer. “You’re not going to tell him?” 

“This meeting is strictly between you and me. I’m sure even you know when to keep quiet about certain things?” 

“Zhongli, you cannot be serious.” 

“Quite. Now, I think we’re done here.” 

“No! Xiao needs to know.”

“Xiao is permitted to know certain things that I allow.” 

Venti blinked, shocked. “Why would you do that?” 

“Me? Xiao knew what he was signing. Knew everything that was going to be asked of him in return.” Zhongli turned on his heel. “Nothing is unfair, Venti. I only do things that I deem fit and suitable for both parties.” 

Venti could only muster up a scoff as Zhongli left. Leaving him glaring at both the door and his contract. Eyes darting to the empty line where his signature would’ve graced. 

Venti curled his fingers around nothing, his chest rising and falling, a shout of frustration bubbling in his throat. The sight of the small words alone was enough to fill Venti with shocking rage. 

So he made sure to rip the given contract into a million pieces before leaving the haunting room. 

“Holy cow! That’s your sixth one in a row!” Paimon shrieked, causing a mild ringing to cross Venti’s ears. She whispered her next words, “Traveler… you’re counting with Paimon, right?” 

“Of course I am.” They hissed quietly, oblivious to Venti’s forthcoming frown. “Venti, are you sure you don’t want to talk about it?” 

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ve already talked to my third and eighth one about it.” Venti threw back his heavy head, finishing the last bit of his shot. Continuing shortly, “plus, I’m way beyond talking about it. Hey— yes. Yes, you.” He giggled. “Please, another ten.” 

Chef Mao threw a wary glance at the trio, “Uh— ahem.” 

“Okay. That’s okay. Thank you, Chef, we got it from here.” Venti turned his glossy gaze to the blonde, assessing him as he waved Mao off. 

“Paimon, please. A minute?” He whispered. 

Venti dropped his head to the cool table, closing heavy eyes. Oh, how he disliked that. No matter how hard many people did their very best to keep their voices low, Venti could hear them as if they were the ones whispering to him. 

He can thank the winds for that. 

A groan rose from Venti’s throat as he began rubbing his head against the wood's cold surface. Speaking with a slur, “You didn’t have to do that.” 

The Traveler sighed. “I let this go on for too long. And I’m definitely not telling you how to handle your drinking, but— Venti. Seriously, you have to tell me what’s going on.” 

No response. Thus, they continued their rant. 

“You’ve been like this for the past two days. Since you came back from Liyue.”

Venti couldn’t contain himself from giggling. “Observant as always.”

“What happened down there?” They urged.

Venti raised his head, slowly. Eyes darting between the numerous lines of bottles he’d obtained before dragging them to Traveler. “What do you think?” They immediately shot him a knowing look. 

Venti sighed at that. The last thing Venti truly wanted was for Traveler to be privy to his feelings regarding a certain Yaksha and his painstakingly annoying Archon. 

Given, the Traveler’s helped Mondstat tremendously and he’ll always be forever grateful— and in debt— but that’s where it ended. 

Venti couldn’t tell the Traveler. Their stare-down was further proof of his defiance. Which was fine. Venti still wasn’t bulging. 

He was going to be as unmoving as a boulder and as tall as a mountaintop. Venti refused to cave. 

Chef Mao did two full trips before he reluctantly cleared Venti’s mess. Catching his glances, Venti knew he wanted to question the odd silence between the two, yet kept quiet in his movements. 

He also knew he’d have to be stupid to believe for a second the Traveler would give up until they got what they wanted. Ugh. When did the Traveler ever give up? Not in their nature. Not in the slightest. 

This had been a losing game from the start, and Venti’s patience had already started decreasing. Growing fairly dim despite his efforts. 

So, he started from the beginning.

“I climbed a tree.” 

“You… climbed a tree?” 

“Yep. The Sunsettia’s here aren’t cheap, you know. Plus, it was delicious. But we got bombarded by a bunch of wretched blockheads— who then broke my vision!” To further show his disdain, he tugged his now fixed vision. “I mean, I know it’s fake, but still.” 

“Venti.”

“But what do you know? They got mad, he got mad. Well, I think. He’s fast on his feet, y’know?” 

“Who are you—” 

“Psh— it doesn’t matter! He leaves, I leave… and then I bump into him. That old man,” a giggle left him. “I’m surprised his posture is as good as it is. But he wished for a meeting. One that still poisons this bard in a sour mood.”

Who cares if Zhongli forcing him away caused the bard to down ten bottles of liquor— who cares? 

Venti blinked, gaze blurring as the table sloshed side-to-side. 

He sighed. Oh, who was he fooling? Of course, he cared. 

Yeah, sure, Zhongli had the upper hand here, but that didn’t mean he could just order Venti away. It wasn’t for him to decide that. Contract or not. 

“Who does that old man think he is?” He scoffed, muttering softly into his arm. 

“Venti,” Traveler started, “who are you talking about?” 

“No need to worry! I’ll be back on my feet in no time.” Venti winked, sluggishly. Pushing himself up to a spiraling room, he winced. “Or… maybe I’ll rest for a while longer.” His head dropped once more. Venti mentally cringed. This was probably so pathetic to watch.  

“So you want to do this alone? When have you ever given anyone that option?” Never. They both knew that. “Where’s that energy when someone wants to help you?” 

Venti didn’t want them to be right. He also didn’t want any help. This is his problem, isn’t it? Venti had to face it alone. Or head on. 

Even if that wasn’t really what he was currently doing. 

No one spoke after that. 

Venti, too busy in his mind contemplating his predicament, and Traveler, doing his best to read the trepidation on the bard's face. 

Well, something was definitely clear. Zhongli had a problem, and Venti needed to figure out why. It didn’t matter if it wasn’t his problem or Xiao’s. 

Nonetheless, there is only one person who could help answer his questions.

On that note, Venti immediately shot up. Feeling more sober than ever. Eh, minus the disarray of his surroundings, which began moving in irregular directions. He chose to ignore that. 

“When’s the last time you’ve spoken to Xiao?” 

The Traveler reeled, obviously not expecting the question. Still, they answered, following up with another question. “What?” 

“Xiao. I— well, I haven't searched— but, I need to talk to him.” 

“Is that why you’ve been acting all lifeless down here?” 

“Mm, I wish that were the case. But- never mind that. I just need to speak with him. Or do you perhaps know where one can find him?” 

The Traveler became silent, eyes roaming over Venti’s face before speaking carefully. “You sure you want to speak to him, like this?” 

If Venti wanted to, yes, yes, he can. He loves to be drunk and numb to everything. Of course, there was always a time and place for everything. If sober is what he wanted to achieve in a short period of time… 

“Do you perhaps have an apple to lend?” 

“I can’t believe it.” The Traveler said, before he scoffed. “A singular apple can get you back on your feet. I’m impressed.” 

Venti grinned, “An Archon can’t allow all his secrets to fall from his tree now, can he? What? Why are you looking at me with that expression?” 

The Traveler glanced at the other, sighing. “Before, you’ve never brought up the fact you’re an Archon so openly. Why start now?” 

“Ah, you caught that.” 

They shrugged, “Venti the bard?” 

“Don’t think the title is getting lost in the winds now.” He teased, hoping to leave it at that. Even if it was obvious, the Traveler didn’t quite like the idea but retreated regardless. 

Both making their way to the top-most balcony. Walking to the ledge, Venti extended both hands to rest on the oak. 

Venti hated to admit Zhongli’s meeting was the sole reason he hadn’t searched for Xiao earlier. For two days, he let that slide. Two. 

Two days of asking Chef Mao, “Another bottle, please! This bard doesn’t want to think straight for a second longer!” And every time, the same look, same bottle. 

Yet, standing here, Venti couldn’t grasp why he even let himself get like that. By Zhongli. Again, of all people. 

My Archon, he stands afar. Watching. 

“Hm?” Venti glanced around, beginning to fidget with no bottle in hand. “Where’s that man at?” He slurred, his mind foggy yet so, so heavy. 

“Perhaps I shall… get it myself?” His head banged on the wooden table in front of him. Echoing in the silent kitchen. The feeling of being weightless at its highest peak. 

My Archon. He wishes to speak to you. 

“I can’t speak with him. Can’t you see the man is nowhere in sight? Hm?” On cue, Chef Mao popped around the corner. Venti beamed, “Oh! Chef, another bottle, please!” 

That was the night he returned. Ugh. Now comes the reason he doesn’t indulge the idea of becoming sober from an apple. Very useful, but like everything, it has its perks.

“Venti, we cannot serve you by the bottle anymore. How much can you even drink? You don’t even look like you’re in your thirties!” 

Venti winced. “Well, if you would prefer that, I can certainly look thirty! As long as it means I’ll at least continue receiving tiny shots.” He laughed. “Besides, we both know I can’t pay you with mora! Allow me to play a few songs to get ya all this expense back!” 

Mao sighed, “Don’t bother. Your tab has been getting paid. I don’t exactly know why he’d ever do something like this…” he admitted, trailing off after dropping another bottle on his messy table. 

Venti followed his movements with slow movements, shooting up from his chair. “Wait! Someone has been paying my tab?” 

Chef Mao’s laugh echoed from his retreating form, “If you mean bottles, then yeah. For the bard in green.” Mao vanished before Venti could question the information further. 

Returning to his chair, he quietly focused on his newly filled bottle. Glaring at the beverage before speaking firmly. “Where is he?” 

A command for the winds. Something Venti hadn’t done in a long time, yet still always got an answer. 

The Yaksha you seek is not present, My Archon. 

No matter how much Venti hoped with every ounce of wine he consumed, he’d remember nothing but the taste. Clearly, the gods above disagree. 

“Xia—”

“Wait!” 

“Wha— what happened?” 

“Where’s the warning? Or countdown? Like, three, two, one— I’m going to call for him?” 

“What? What are you talking about?” 

A moment of silence stretched between the two. Before the Traveler’s brows furrowed, suddenly skeptical. “Why are you acting like that?” 

“Like what?” 

“Like- like that! You’re obviously nervous about something.” 

“Are you trying to say it’s uncanny for someone like me to feel anything other than tranquil?” 

The Traveler didn’t answer, crossing their arms while eyeing Venti with profound suspicion. “I thought you wanted to talk to him? What aren’t you telling me? 

“I- of course I was being serious about that! Can you just—”

“Is there a problem?” The two squealed, jumping in sync. Both reaching for the other at the fright.

Not surprising that Traveler was the first to relax and release Venti upon seeing the new face. “Xiao, hey! Uh, no problem at all. How… have you been?” 

“I’ve been… fine.” He turned to assess Venti, bowing his head once, “Venti.” The release of his name only made the bard more visibly timid. 

Still, he cleared his throat, following suit with everyone’s pleasantries. “Xiao! To what do we owe the pleasure?” He received an elbow to the ribs for that. 

“What Venti means to say is, if you’re free, they’re currently looking for a breakfast buddy! Isn’t that right?” 

A confused noise left him, “a breakfast?—” another jab. “Why of course! That is, if you don’t mind joining this lone bard.” 

Xiao crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at the two vigilantly. At their strange behavior, no doubt. 

Thus, when he received no further explanation did he speak cautiously, testing the offer on his tongue. “An eating buddy?” 

“Exactly!” The Traveler answered, easing towards Xiao but not before elbowing Venti once more. Surely he’d wake tomorrow with discolored skin. “I’d join, but I already sent word of finishing certain commissions. Plus, Paimon must be missing me.” 

Traveler finished his rant with a careful hand on Xiao’s shoulder, releasing his hold when Xiao gave a short nod. Only when Traveler walked a few paces behind Xiao did he raise two fingers, place them in front of his eyes, and motioned between him and Venti.  

With Xiao’s eyes trained on him, he had no choice but to stare at the repeated gesture. Waiting for Traveler to be out of sight before speaking first, “Don’t feel pressured to join me, Xiao. I know you don’t usually enjoy eating.” 

No response. 

Venti smiled, “Have you been well?” Xiao hummed, and well, that was a response, wasn’t it? Venti clasped his hands, “In that case, I shall be on my way. To breakfast, of course.”

“Tofu.” 

Venti paused shortly, “Tofu?” 

“I’ll eat Tofu. It’s the only thing I can stomach.” 

“Oh. Are you sure?” Xiao gave Venti a nod before dropping his crossed arms and turning on his heel. Venti couldn’t help but beam at the sight, following closely after. 

A bead of sweat ran down Venti’s back as the Yaksha stared at him with no apparent expression as they currently sat outside on Xiao’s usual balcony. 

“Oh? Is there a problem with us dining down here, Mao?” In response, the man huffed, dropping a load of fresh vegetables on his cutting board. 

Casting them a huge grin, “Not at all! I would say if it were any other day. We have adventurers dining with us this morning, and I don’t want any of my new chefs dropping anything hot on you!” He laughed, gaining a chorus of groans. 

“Chef, we won’t drop anything.” 

“Yeah, you exaggerate.” 

A young man then came up to the two, “If you want, we can set a table for you up top. Chef tells us you like your privacy.” 

Which brought them to where they are now. Two balconies above the main dining, and still, the people below eating at their heart's content couldn’t possibly drown the awkwardness that’d risen between the two divine beings. 

Venti did try coming up with things to say, but… he failed miserably. It looked as if Xiao also seemed to be waiting for Venti. His fingers found his cape, curling around the material, he twisted, pulled— ugh. What on Earth can he bring up? 

If he didn’t want Xiao running off again, he’d have to stay clear of their talk the other day. That being said, with nothing spoken, the winds were more than happy to fill the void of silence that hovered over them. 

“Have you heard that wearing this particular set gets the attention of older women?” 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. They were probably just judging your choice of clothing because that was popular last season.” 

“Should we really give him another chance to explain himself? I mean, he seemed pretty serious this time.” 

“Because he’s good at manipulating, Xixi. We cannot go back.” 

“Happy four months, my love.” 

“Hm, I love you.” 

“Mom! Mom! Can we go home now? I wanna go play with Suzu!” 

“Aiya, we just got seated ten minutes ago. Okay, if you finish your plate this time, you both can have a sleepover.” 

“Okay!” 

A young man coughed fiercely, “Check! Check, please!” 

“Haha! Wait, be careful or you’ll drop everything!” 

“I’ll pay.”

“No, I can pay.” 

“I already said before we left that I’d pay.”

“Well, you better get used to disappointment, pretty boy.” 

“Marry me.”

“Sweetheart, we’ve been married for seven years.”

“Hm, marry me for another seven.” 

“I’m thinking we all go to that abandoned ruin we heard about.” 

“I’m with you, bro.”

“Yeah, you guys are on your own. I’ve heard that people who decide to go there end up missing.” 

“Really?”

“No.”

A cleared throat cut Venti off from mingling with people in earshot. His eyes shot to Xiao first, who sat observing… Chef Mao. Who seemed to be striding over. 

Venti could’ve sworn he was busy with his work— just how long have they been sitting in silence? 

Mao crossed his arms, puffing his chest out, and glancing between the two. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you out of my kitchen so soon. To be frank, I thought you’d rot in there!” He bellowed. 

Venti could only laugh nervously at the attention, even if Xiao seemed curious, Venti made it very clear to slide his cup away from reach. 

“Haha, well, I very well am planning to be sober today.” 

“Planning?” Mao belted. “There’s no planning when you shouldn’t drink! What are you, an alcoholic?” Venti hummed; it seemed no answer was enough of an answer for the man. 

“I see you’ve also dragged along— haha! Xiao, it’s nice to see you dining again. How long has it been, four weeks now?” Venti’s eyes widened, turning to gaze at Xiao as he didn’t so much as flinch at the question. 

“It doesn't matter.” 

“Hm. Well, as long as you’re not here against your will.” Mao said, winking at Venti. In return, he gave him a quick head shake. Not the time. 

“I’m not.” Despite the tone, Venti smiled. It didn’t matter that Xiao only spoke two syllables since their sitting, it was still a win-win in Venti’s book. Nonetheless, Venti was sure he knew what their topic of conversation could now be. 

“Anyway, your food choices for today?” 

“Ah, yes, right. One Almond Tofu, please.” Mao flickered his eyes to Xiao, nodding once before disappearing. 

“You’re not eating?” 

“Don’t worry about me, Xiao. Enjoy yourself! Everything is all on me.” 

“Enjoy myself?” 

“Of course! I am offering. Wouldn’t you want a moment for yourself?” 

“Hardly.” Venti blinked, taken aback. Staring carelessly as Xiao dropped his crossed arms. “You expect me to enjoy myself when I’m the only one eating?” 

“Uh…” 

“You can hardly afford a Sunsettia here at the Inn. Why would you go spend money on someone else?” Venti struggled to answer, and Xiao only became more concerned. 

So, without much thought, Venti sagged in his chair. 

Was he drained? No. No, that wouldn’t make sense. Well, okay, maybe it could. Still, Venti would rather choke than admit the cause of his overwhelming defeat was all due to Zhongli and his stupid behavior. Ugh. He’d rather rot. 

“So, all this was out of impulse.” Venti’s head shot up so fast, he could’ve sworn he heard a crack. 

“What? No!” 

“But this has to do with what was going on earlier?” 

“Yes— n-no! I don’t know. Maybe? No, no.” Xiao remained quiet, so Venti felt the need to continue. “This wasn’t on impulse, Xiao. I wanted to talk with you, truly! Like— you know, face to face.” He gestured, hoping to further express himself. 

“Talk with me about what?” 

“Your Almond Tofu!” Venti drew out an exhale at the distraction, thanking Chef Mao mentally. Sadly, he couldn’t stay for longer than a quick, “Enjoy.” Before going back to his heavy service. 

Xiao hadn’t moved since the man departed, which impelled Venti to push Xiao’s dish forward, “Please, eat.” 

The Yaksha did seem a bit reluctant to move, and Venti couldn’t be more amused at the sight. Still, he wanted Xiao to eat. So he pushed further, and in the end, Xiao did grab his utensils. 

Venti took that as a cue to divert his attention, soaking in the view the balcony possessed once again. 

Something is bothering you, My Archon. 

His eyebrows furrowed. Of course, something was bothering him— many things were bothering him. Or rather, confusing and frustrating him. Xiao, Zhongli? That included himself.

My Archon, please, be honest with yourself. 

Be honest? Be honest about what? Venti was already as honest as he could be! With a few exceptions. He spoke freely, walked around with no care— it didn’t matter. He’s a free spirit at heart! 

The Archon suddenly blinked. Twice. Thrice. All before taking one long, deep breath. He hadn’t realized the winds had been hitting his person harsher than usual. 

Venti simply crossed his feet, felt the winds begin to slow, and relaxed at the soft caress on his cheeks. 

You’re allowing yourself to fall too deeply into your thoughts regarding the Geo Archon. Venti’s eyes twitched. Well, you're certainly chatty today. 

Anyway, Zhongli hadn’t tried to speak with Venti out of spite. He was merely concerned about Xiao. Their contract. That was all, right? 

“Something is troubling you.” Venti immediately gave his attention to the speaking Yaksha, trying not to show his surprise at the blunt statement. “The winds changed their natural direction three times since I took my first bite.” 

What? Was he really that deep in conversation with himself and the wind to notice? Also, “You can feel the winds shift?” Xiao grunted, placing his utensils down. “That’s amazing, Xiao.” 

“It’s nothing.” 

Venti mustered a low hum, bringing his attention to the half-eaten tofu left on Xiao’s plate, mouth moving before he could stop himself. “Xiao, how often do you get tofu these days?” 

“Not often.” He admitted. 

“How often?” 

Xiao pondered, “Once a month.” 

“Once a month?” 

Xiao must’ve picked up on Venti’s tone and sudden shift as he answered gingerly. “It doesn’t bother me as I do not need mortal food to survive.” 

“Still, that’s a bit…” ugh. Venti doesn’t understand at all. He wants to— but this is all complicated. Every time he thinks he gets it, he tends to get slapped in the process. 

It is not for you to understand, My Archon. 

Who gets to decide that? Venti should be able to understand. Should be capable of wanting to.

“Venti, what’s wrong?” Venti eyed the Yaksha attentively. This Yaksha is bound— Rang repeatedly in his ears. Was Venti really not meant to understand this? Was he crossing a line simply for wanting to get to know Xiao? On what level, though? To what extent?

Venti took a moment observing the crease between his eyebrows, the confusion, all because of Venti. 

Was this all his fault? Is it really? 

Yeah. It was. 

Venti swallowed, fixing himself. Despite his defeat, he still smiled, speaking ever so softly as he responded. “Nothing. Everything is fine. Merely a lone bard seeking to spark inspiration.”