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In hindsight, he really should have thought more about simply setting off to the Thousand Winds Temple. Maybe the fact that nobody followed him should have been an indicator, that he has gotten something wrong. But well, here he was. In the middle of the ruined temple, with a Ruin Guard setting his rockets straight at him.
Bennett barely managed to jump away from them. He really didn’t know what to do. He was sure that his sword was too dull to pierce through the guard’s machinery, and his weak spot was too far up anyway. Why does it always have to be him?
He ran, hiding behind one of the columns when suddenly he heard a loud:
“Get down!”
A moment later he heard a Ruin Guard’s grunt as he has fallen. Bennett felt something graze his arm, and when he looked at it, he sighed. Of course, the guard’s arm had to somehow pierce through his skin. Bennett winced inwardly at the gash. But well, he thought to himself, it could’ve been worse.
He looked up, trying to see who was his savior, and to his surprise, he saw Venti standing at the top of one of the columns. How did he get here?
“You okay, Bennett?” Venti asked, smoothly landing right in front of him.
“Y- yeah, I’m good, just a scratch,” he said, nervously laughing. The bard winced sympathetically, seeing the injury.
“Doesn’t look like a scratch to me” he said pointedly.
“I’ve had worse,” he mumbled. Trying to hide away from Venti’s glare, he reached toward his traveling bag, trying to fish out a bandage. He heard the bard sighing.
“Well, I hope that it won’t prevent you from writing the poem then! You know, I want my students to be systematic and all.”
Bennett bit his lip. Yeah, the poem…
To be honest, he was so caught up with helping Barbara that he had no time to actually write it. And even if he did, well… No words came to his mind. He would just stare at the blank paper, thinking intensively, and then… Nothing.
“Yeah, I think the arm won’t be the problem” he mumbled, clumsily wrapping the bandage around the gash, still not looking at Venti. He almost jumped out of his skin when a sudden pair of hands swatted his palms away from the bandage. He looked at the bard, who simply shrugged, as he tightened the dressing.
“What seems to be the problem then?” he asked with a hint of tease in his voice, which made Bennett fluster even more. He was about to answer, when he felt a sudden gush of the Anemo energy sweep through him, closing the injury on his arm. Surprised, he looked at Venti, who had an innocent look on his face.
“Wow! I didn’t know you could do this!” he said, trying to change the subject. The bard chuckled, but there was no usual mirth in his voice.
“I have a friend, who hm… gets hurt rather easily” he responded. Something in his eyes told Bennett that he shouldn’t pry. “Anyway, no deflecting, dear student of mine! What’s the problem?”
Bennett sighed.
“To be honest... I think I lack inspiration” he answered truthfully.
He half expected the bard to laugh at him, saying that it’s the Windblume Festival so he should have plenty of inspiration or something like that. And for a moment it looked like he would, but then Venti cocked his head to the side, while an almost devilish smile passed through his lips. He straightened up and put his hands on his hips and exclaimed, with his head lifted high.
“Well, I guess if my student is struggling, then it is my duty as the professor to help him,” Bennett’s eyes grew wide. He didn’t expect Venti to be so understanding! He was about to thank him when the bard added. “But, of course, I think it would mean a little bit higher tuition, don’t you think? I mean, extra lessons always cost” he winked.
Bennett sighed but he wasn’t annoyed. He half expected the bard to pull out this card. So he simply chuckled and nodded his head. Truth be told, he’d grasp any help he could get.
Seeing his nod, Venti smiled triumphantly.
“Then I guess it’s settled” he looked around, his eyes landing on the Starsnatch Cliff. “Say, Bennett, what is a windblume to you?”
Bennett frowned, taken aback by a sudden question.
“I… Um…” he stammered, thinking back to what his dads would say when he asked them.
To Dad it was cecila. To Papa it was dandelion. To… No, no, Venti asked what was a windblume to him, not his dads… Maybe… No, that was stupid… But Venti was his professor, he should answer truthfully...
“Don’t laugh'' he said, looking at the bard anxiously, which made the other man look at him quizzically. Bennett swallowed nervously and said quietly “but I’m thinking about a wolfhook…”
“Oh! Well…” Venti frowned, but after a moment he smiled warmly, shaking his head. “Maybe I should have expected that.”
Now it was Bennett’s turn to look surprised.
“Huh?” he managed to utter. The bard laughed as if he caught himself on staying something heshouldn’t have, and patted him on the arm. Bennett couldn’t help but feel like he was making fun of him.
“Nothing, nothing, don’t take it to the heart,” he said. “Anyway, with that covered, well…” his eyes once again went to the Cliff. “Nature always helps me focus and calm down, you know? So let’s climb up and think together up there, okay?”
“Yes, sir!”
A moment later, they were sitting at the very edge of the cliff, Bennett cross-legged on the ground, while Venti found himself a rock.
Despite himself, Bennett let out a breath of relief. He could see why Venti found nature calming. The gentle wind playing in his hair, the sound of waves crashing against the cliff far down, the distant sound of birds chirping… All of that made him relax.
But still, when he glanced at his paper, no words came to him. It felt like the sheer whiteness of the paper was too overwhelming. But... He had an idea of what he wanted to write! Granted, it was a very faint one, but it still existed somewhere in the back of his head, so it should count! And yet still… Nothing.
Sighing, he leaned back on his arms, staring at the sky instead. Suddenly, he heard the first few notes being played on lyre. Surprised, he turned to look at Venti. Where did he get that lyre from?
Venti didn’t look at him. The bard just stared into the distance, lost in thought his fingers playing a melody on the lyre. After a moment Bennett perked up. He knew that song! It was one of his favorite even!
Setting the paper down, he focused on the tale of a brave hero, who saved the city at the cost of his life. Bennett smiled to himself.
He couldn’t help but wonder about the hero. Did he know his life would be immortalized in a song? Was he expecting that? Nah, he probably didn’t, the ballad said he was humble…
Bennett sighed. How wonderful that would be, to have his life being told like that… In a tale of bravery, heroism, remembered only for the good things… Involuntary, he looked back at the Temple and winced.
No, this probably won't happen to him. If any bard would write a song about his life, it would probably be just to make people laugh. With all of his mishaps, he was sure that a potential song would be perfect for some drunkards to sing after hours. He mentally winced at the image.
Suddenly feeling down, he hugged his knees to his chest. Was it his fate to be remembered like that? As nothing more, but a fool to laugh at? But he wanted to be the hero! A respected, brave hero who was worthy of praise!
“Venti?” he mumbled, almost sure he was too quiet for the bard to hear him but judging from the fact that the music stopped, he must have. “The people you sing about… The ballads that praise them, tell their stories… Do you think people would do that for me someday?”
“Huh? Where did that come from?" he heard the bard’s surprised voice. He shrugged, still not looking at him.
“It’s just…” he sighed, running a hand through his face. He hugged himself tighter, feeling a wave of anxiety rushing through him, making him feel tense. “The heroes of those ballads are… Everything that I’m… not” he mumbled. “They are brave, resourceful, with their feet on the ground, able to deal with everything that fate has to throw at them… And with me…” he chuckled nervously. “...you know.”
He heard the bard's sigh.
“Do you think those people were always like that?”
Surprised, Bennett finally turned around to look at Venti. The man put his lyre on the ground and leaned back on his arms. He was staring at the sky, a distant smile dancing on his lips. Probably feeling the boy’s glance on him, he shook his head, as if he just pulled himself out of his thoughts. He cocked his head to the side, looking at Bennett.
“The ballads we are singing” he started. “are about those who passed a long time ago. And because of that, there’s almost no one left who could tell us how they were on a day-to-day basis. We know only about their great achievements because people who loved them made sure that we would focus on that. Sweet little details are just for the friends to cherish, while strangers get to know the idealized version of the heroes. For example…” Venti leaned down toward Bennett, putting his hand close to his mouth and whispered “...the hero of this story? Yes, he was brave, but also he was clumsy as all fuck!”
Bennett gasped.
“No way!”
Venti only giggled.
“Why of course! I… um… recall a story, where he caught himself in his robes, falling down the stairs, scaring his poor mother out of her mind” he said. “But you don’t hear that in the ballad, right?” Bennett shook his head, stunned. He tried to imagine the hero tripping, but he was simply not able to do it. It felt almost seditious to do so. “It focuses on his good sides because it was written by his friends who loved him, and wanted you to get inspired by him.”
“But… He kind of deserved to be remembered like that” Bennett said, shaking his head. He hugged himself tighter. “I mean, he gave his life to Mondstadt, it’s only fair we remember him as a hero. Meanwhile…”
“I wasn’t aware you were such an old, dying man, Bennett” Venti said with a tease in his voice. Bennett’s ears reddened. “There, there, don't look at me like that!” The bard added, putting his hands up in a calming manner, seeing the boy’s pout. The wind around Bennett suddenly felt warmer, as if the air was enveloping him in a hug. Venti’s eyes softened. “What I meant is, you’re still young. Greatness isn’t achieved in a day, and even if, you never know on which day it may happen. Do you think most of the heroes wake up, knowing that today is the day when they will do something ballad-worthy?” Bennett hesitantly shook his head. “Exactly! If you want my advice, I’d say, don't think about that too hard. Sure, your bad luck may be a pain in the ass right now, but you know what? Maybe one day it’ll help you. You never know.” he said, smiling. This time, it wasn’t teasing, rather the kind of smile that someone would make when they knew something more about the topic than they were letting on, which made Bennett almost frown. It felt weird that Venti would know so much about life, but at the same time… Strangely fitting.
So he nodded.
“And the people who love you... Well..." Venti looked at his lyre and shook his head fondly. “They will make sure that you are remembered as your best version of yourself. Take my word on that.”
And finally, finally, Bennett believed him. He smiled, letting himself relax.
“Thank you, professor,” he said, letting his voice have a teasing note. Venti chuckled.
“Well then, with that settled, get back to writing! We don’t have the whole day, you know!”
Still smiling softly to himself, Bennett took the paper in his hands. The people who love you, huh? he thought and shook his head absentmindedly. Reaching for the pen, he once again thought about wolfhooks. Yeah, he might have an idea.