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A guttural cry of anguish flew from its throat, ripped straight from its chest cavity. It stumbled to its knees, arms flailing out in front of it in an attempt to steady itself on the uneven, cracked ground. It desperately crawled over to the bard's form, ignorant of the way its pristine knees scraped over dirt and rock fragments until they were bloody, and flung itself over the bard’s crumpled body. Hunched over, spasms occasionally shook its form from the sheer force of the sobs racking its fragile frame. Its hands curled into fists, and in a fit of rage a violent gale burst forth from its new human vessel, enveloping the two figures and rippling across the surrounding earth before dissipating into an echoing howl, lingering in the air. It vowed sorrowfully in a low, hoarse rasp:
If I cannot extend your life with these useless powers vested in me–-no, imposed upon me, if the cycle of life demands recompense and denies my request, if you are forcibly dragged into death's embrace amongst the throes of countless sinners' souls, then I shall immortalize you in song. Let the whole world know of your story through prose, let them hear epics of your bravery, odes to your courage, and ballads of your smile as bright as apples under the sun, as carefree as the wind. Let them know of your voice forever preserved in bottles of amber liquid, sealed fresh with the scent of dandelions just bloomed. Friend, I shall carry on your legacy in your image, so rest well. Wherever I go, you shall go as well. Whoever I meet, you shall also meet. Whatever I hear, you shall hear as well. I promise you this.
Its voice cracked midway as it felt an unfamiliar liquid dripping down its face, matting the bard's hair and seeping into his torn clothes, but could not bring itself to care and continued cradling his head like an infant without its mother, wailing into the night.
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Venti took a sip from his half empty bottle, legs swinging back and forth from his perch on a particularly thick bough in Vanessa's tree. Well, it was technically Master Diluc's bottle, but old habits die hard, he mused.
"It's interesting, isn't it friend? The dandelion is really a weed, yet its bloom brings such joy. It can grow just about anywhere, and survive even in the most barren of lands." He glanced down at the bottle between his hands.
"Even one ruled by a tyrant and enclosed by a hurricane." After some thought, he added,
"Both you and Mondstadt can be compared to a dandelion, no?" Another sip.
"These were your favorite drinks, but I took the liberty of adding my own little spin to it. Heh, liberty, get it?...Yeah, that one was bad, huh?" Venti laughed awkwardly.
The sunlight fell in spotted patterns on the glass and illuminated the viridiscent sheen within. He stared into the amber liquid, as if searching for something, for someone, scrutinizing the reflection for answers. He could almost see that bard’s eyes smiling back at him within the clear depths. Venti smiled back.
"I kept my promise, you know. The people you inspired to take up arms for freedom’s sake are now thriving again, all thanks to your voice. You’ve laid a strong foundation too, since I taught them how to brew your drinks in your image. Now even foreign lands can't get enough of it, and Mondstadt’s wealth continues to grow. It’s even enough for the people to spare coins for a wandering bard! The arts are alive and well…you would have loved it. There would’ve been no more need for us to sleep on the streets huddled in some deserted alley. We would have enough to pay for a day’s rent in an inn and still have left over to not go hungry…we’d have been finally able to afford more than just bread and apples everyday, maybe even cake once a week! I remember how much you loved sweets. If we saved up over time we could’ve visited Liyue like you wanted-–” He paused.
"...Sometimes I forget you can’t hear me anymore. I wanted to preserve your memory in this way at least, and maybe the wind will carry my thoughts and the happiness you’ve created all the way to you. Although, I can't say I've been doing much more than performing these days. " He laughed, a tinkling sound, like bells on the wind. He took a big swig of the apple cider, then looked over at the bottles of now empty dandelion wine by his side. He liked to imagine what the bard would've said if he were here now, sitting beside him in place of the bottles. He could almost hear his bright voice nagging at him. Venti frowned.
“Truth be told, I never wanted the Gnosis. I didn’t want to be an Archon, nor did I ever want to ascend to any form of power at all. All I wanted was to travel the lands with you, singing songs and seeing the world as we go. But…that’s not quite possible now, is it?” Another pause, then a dry chuckle.
"No no, it's not because I'm lazy! I just... I don't want to enforce some sort of hierarchy and start another revolution you see? No way would I follow in the footsteps of my predecessor. Freedom, when demanded of you by an Archon–is really no freedom at all, is it? And…who knows if I'll lose another friend if that happens... though I don't doubt that the Traveler is strong enough to look after themself." He sighed.
"I suppose in that sense I'm quite similar to Beelzebul aren't I? Chased by the past, afraid to move on." He laughed bitterly.
"Ha! Now I don't sound like myself! Look at me being self aware, if Morax heard me he wouldn't believe his ears." Silence.
"That's funny isn't it, friend?" Venti whispered.
"Being the second eldest should mean I've at least wizened to some degree after all these years, right? And yet look at Buer. She's the youngest of all of us, but already leagues ahead of me in every aspect. So willing to look past bygone grievances, so willing to move on and face the future without an ounce of fear nor hesitation." He considered this, then shook his head, braids flying to and fro.
"What am I saying! She is the Archon of Wisdom after all..." He trailed off. He gulped down the rest of the bottle in one go, excess liquid dripping down his chin in rivulets. He wiped them off with his sleeve and looked down again into the clear glass, searching for a face to remember, to reminisce upon, a face with which to anchor himself. He grimaced, greeted only by his own pensive eyes. A hollow exhale left him, followed by a defeated sigh.
"... Alright, you win. I'll admit, I have a fondness for “drowning my sorrows in wine”, as the people call it. Yes, I admit I do it everyday. If I’m being perfectly honest,…it’s too painful without it. An Archon’s high tolerance to foreign substances is a curse, not a blessing you know? It takes way too many drinks for me to even feel an approximation of drunkenness, so of course I would get started as early as possible each morning. Well, not that I’m complaining since it allows me to better pretend that you're here right next to me…Anyhow, faking inebriation to annoy Master Diluc in the company of fellow patrons is about the most amusing activity I have on my hands right now." His eyes turned forlorn and glazed over at this.
"How else am I supposed to remember you...I don't exactly have anyone to talk to…not anymore." He lowered his gaze to his palms, empty save for the now finished bottle of cider laying in his lap.
"You can always talk to us!"
"Well, but...huh?" Venti snapped out of his reverie upon hearing a familiar squeaky voice. Brushing aside the thicket of leaves in front of him, he found himself face to face with Paimon and the Traveler.
"Little Paimon and the Traveler! When did you guys get here?" He chuckled nervously, scrambling for any semblance of normalcy.
"We got a bit scratched up from sparring with Andrius, so we came here to recover. You were sounding an awful lot like Mister Zhongli just now though, something about no one being able to share the memory?" The Traveler hummed with a finger to their chin. Venti gaped.
"Who sounds like that old geezer?! I'll have you know I'm much more interesting to be around than that stubborn rock of a—ACK!!" In his agitation Venti forgot he was still holding tree branches at bay and ended up smacking himself across the face with them as they snapped back to their original position. Before he could process what had happened, he was interrupted by the sound of laughter, flustering him and making the tips of his ears burn red with embarrassment.
"Just know that we're always here if you want to talk, Venti." The Traveler smiled warmly. Venti was taken aback, but let himself bask in that smile that appeared as bright as apples under the sun, if only for a moment. It was familiar, yet different.
Maybe everything would be okay, Venti pondered.
He returned the smile with a small one of his own and hopped down from his perch, dusting himself off and taking a deep breath before putting on a more presentable expression.
"Well, how about we start with a little tour of the finest breweries Mondstadt has to offer then?" He grinned cheekily leaning forward with his hands on his hips, earning him a resounding groan from the duo. The Traveler sighed resignedly with a huff.
“...Fine. I’ll make an exception today.”
“ Fantastisch! I knew I could count on you!” Venti let out a hurrah and winked, pulling out his lyre and gliding his fingers across the strings, plucking a few notes and humming a triumphant tune. After the last note had left his fingertips and floated into the air, a sudden breeze passed the trio by, wrapping them in its warm embrace.
“Come on then! Or else I’ll take back my offer!” The Traveler called ahead of Venti with a wave, Paimon giggling beside them.
“I’ll be there in a second! Just let me finish up here.”
Venti plucked a newly bloomed dandelion from the side of the worn road, then closed his eyes and gently blew in its direction, scattering the seeds with his silent message along the four winds.
Friend, I think I'll be alright. Maybe not without your bottles of song quite yet, but perhaps one day.
With a rueful smile towards the skies and a newfound skip in his step, Venti once again took up the role of "Tone-deaf Bard", lyre in hand and ancient rhymes of times past falling from his lips. He took a step forward, setting off on the road back to their beloved city where it all began long, long ago.
Fly, fly away
Like a bird in the sky
See the world on my behalf
To the heavens may you fly
But now the antiphonal verse has been added, and the skyward sonnet completed:
To the city we shall go
A little place called home
Oh fret not my dear friend
No longer will I roam