Chapter Text
The Sabzeruz Festival was on its way again, just around the bend, already. All of Sumeru was buzzing with it – cities and villages garlanded with flowers and lit by lotus-shaped lanterns, candy on every table and even hidden in the bushes and trees. It was all very sweet. The nation loved its Archon very much.
And even though one certain Vahumana scholar and former prisoner of said Archon did too, it also was all a little much.
Decorating everything almost a week in advance, really? Singing and dancing and candy-sharing in the streets? Games and sugar-filled children everywhere?
It’d been fine last year – the Festival had only lasted a day, but apparently the people had just been testing the waters for a first go-around after their Archon had been freed. This year, Sumeru was going all out. Well, they could suit themselves. Kintsugi wasn’t having it.
He’d kept to the heights of the Divine Tree, then the House of Daena – one of the city’s last quiet places now almost everyone was foolishly skipping their assignments to focus on partying. As of now, he was quietly overlooking the city from a spot just out of sight of the Akademiya’s entrance, carefully hidden from any scholars wanting to drag him into anything – as he knew they would. Just how had they all grown so fond of him? All he’d done was write some dumb essays venting his personal opinions, disguised in their vernacular and somehow accepted as valuable to the Darshan. Apparently, that was all it took to be considered clever and successful around here. Telling.
Clearly, Kusanali wasn’t yet done transforming Sumeru back into a true Nation of Wisdom; a fact also illustrated by the way they all lost themselves in the nonsense, commotion and asinine decoration down below – seriously, flowers were nice and all, but nowhere in nature would you find them clumped together like this. It was all an overly saccharine eyesore.
Still, he wouldn’t take it away from those that enjoyed that sort of thing. He did genuinely care about some of them.
He looked up. Here was one of them now.
“Kintsugi, Kintsugi,” a little voice came flapping closer on brown, membranous wings. “Oh, you won’t believe the stuff I’ve seen down there! The city is so pretty!”
“Shush,” the puppet muttered, holding out his arm and spreading out his trailing sleeve, letting the little bat slip into his haori and hook on to the little loop of fabric he’d sewn in just for this purpose. “You’re gonna give us both away.”
“Ahh, but I’m just so excited!”
“Duly noted,” he replied wryly.
Mini Durin had gotten the hang of venturing between worlds a lot better than the first time he’d visited Teyvat, just after he’d been blessed with his smaller form in Simulanka. That first time, he’d taken the form of an immobile dragon plushie – but during his visits since then, he’d graduated into this semblance of his true self, a fuzzy, pointy-eared little fruit bat capable of fluttering around on his own, hiding upside down in Kintsugi’s sleeve, and most importantly, hugging people and things.
Kintsugi might not enjoy festivals spanning multiple days all that much, but he could enjoy the little dragon’s enjoyment.
“Everyone’s having so much fun, and there are all these Aranara in the city!”
“I’ve noticed them.” He’d seen them arrive, drifting in like leaves and petals, badly hiding themselves in flowerbeds and between bushes. He’d tried to talk to some of them, but they’d muttered and startled and excused themselves, quickly hiding in the soil, peeking back out just a little later. They must be planning something of a surprise for their Archon… well, good luck keeping it a surprise. “If they weren’t invisible to most adults, everyone would know of them by now,” he remarked. He was sure some of the joy of the children down in the city could be attributed to them glimpsing the Aranara everywhere.
“Aren’t you gonna join in at all?”
“Mh… I see no need.”
“Not even on Nahida’s birthday itself in a few days??” The little bat poked his head out of Kintsugi’s haori. “Really?”
“I’m her right hand. I don’t always need to be holding her hand.” A year was nothing to him – the last Sabzeruz Festival seemed like it’d been just yesterday. On top of that, he’d very recently been summoned to the Imaginarium Theater and forced into playing nice with others he didn’t sign up for interacting with, and then again in Simulanka – although he had to admit, not everything that’d come of that particular adventure disagreed with him. Still, he was tired. He’d been whisked all over the place, people insisting on having him attend things, expending his social battery.
This body, and part of his mind, had spent the past five hundred years going absolutely unnoticed, never meaningfully interacting with anyone. He wasn’t used to all this commotion, and didn’t particularly appreciate it at all. He was forgoing this one. Even if all these Aranara were around. They could handle themselves.
And… there was also the matter of him and Nahida having their own separate lives, and that being a good thing. They’d both been working on being okay without the other, having faith in the other being okay without them. He was her right hand, but he was also a Vahumana student and a wandering vagrant in the forest, whereas she was an Archon who didn’t need him for absolutely everything, conversely. She had many of her own friends and acquaintances he was glad he didn’t have to deal with.
Her nation adored her – that was never more evident than today. And Kintsugi knew the Traveler surely wouldn’t part from her side on her birthday itself. It wouldn’t surprise him if the Darshans were to unanimously nominate the First Sage of Buer for the role of the Knight of Flowers, all things considered, and it wasn’t as if the people-pleaser was going to refuse. Nahida had her dedicated guards and retainers – she could have this festival for herself, this time.
“…It is fun to see how much fun you’re having, though.” He gave a faint smile to the bat in his haori. Durin grinned back, tiny teeth sharp and pearly white. “Hehe! I’m glad!”
Just then, a few musicians with blaring instruments started their performance on a petal-strewn carpet on the plaza just across the bridge leading to the Akademiya, and Kintsugi winced with annoyance. Ugh, so loud…
The music had him pondering to leave this little hiding spot, hemming and hawing for a bit – almost making him miss the approaching footsteps and telltale tinkling sound he knew all too well. He turned, mildly amused despite himself. How’d they even find him? Did they have some otherworldly radar or something? Well, at least they weren’t his colleagues. “Oh?” He raised his eyebrows as he met the Traveler’s golden gaze. “Now this is a first. Who goes to the Akademiya in the middle of a festival?”
The Traveler tilted his head, smirking a little. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
Tch. Don’t tell me you came here to find me, of all people. “This is the only place where I can escape all the commotion,” he grouched, but there was little bite to it.
“You’re not going to join in on the fun?” Paimon wanted to know.
“Do I strike you as someone who wants to hold hands and dance with everyone?” he threw back, nodding at the dancing circle that’d formed around the obnoxious plaza musicians. “Go have your fun, and don’t tell anyone you saw me here.” He’d have to go find a new hiding spot now, he presumed. “These festivals don’t come by often, so you might as well let me enjoy it in my own way.” They came by a little too often, but he was sure he’d find a way to make it bearable… somehow. Durin would help. The Aranara might too, if they could put their silly insistence on hiding in the city aside…
…the Traveler wasn’t leaving. “Don’t you have anything better to do?” he asked coolly.
The outlander gave a small smile. “I hear they’re setting up a new round of games in Port Ormos. The festival is just getting started there, it might be calmer than Sumeru City right now. We were just about to go check it out…”
“Surely you can think of more pleasant company to do that with.”
Durin stirred in his sleeve. “Don’t be so rude to yourself, Kintsugi.”
Paimon’s eyes widened at once. “Hey, isn’t that…”
Kintsugi pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Now you’ve done it.”
“Oops, sorry…”
The Traveler’s smile had widened, and he’d leaned in, all the more as Durin’s little head emerged from Kintsugi’s haori. “Hi there, Mini Durin.”
“Hi!” the little dragon-turned-bat beamed. “Happy Sabzeruz!”
“It’s not Sabzeruz yet,” Kintsugi grouched. “And stop it with that stupid nickname.” The dragon’s name was Durin. Names were important. He hadn’t come back to himself by being called Mini Durin, of all things.
“Oh, you stick-in-the-mud,” Paimon stuck out her tongue. “Happy Sabzeruz, Mini Durin!” She looked him over. “You’ve gotten better at venturing! You’re a bat – can you echolocate now?”
“Hmm, no, I don’t think so… I’m a fruit bat, fruit doesn’t run away!”
“I guess that makes sense,” Paimon allowed. “Hehee, now we’ve found our good company for the day! Pity it’s attached to Hat Guy, though…”
Kintsugi glared back, fully expecting the Traveler to share that sentiment, but… there was something in those golden eyes. Something that told him the Traveler was glad to see him, somehow. Something weary and tired – something he recognized.
The Traveler had seen some things he’d have been better off not seeing, and recently. Kintsugi could tell. He knew that look. He’d seen it often enough on his doomed comrades – and he’d worn it often enough himself, too. “You just got back from Natlan, didn’t you?” he asked, voice raspy, but soft.
The Traveler nodded. Paimon looked at him, going a bit quiet and subdued as well. “Yeah…”
Durin looked between them. “Natlan? Isn’t that… oh, I know! A nation of fire, and dragons, and all these tribes of really powerful, awesome people…”
“…Yeah,” the Traveler nodded, smiling at the little dragon, but Kintsugi knew a mask when he saw one. “It’s a beautiful nation. We’ve had a warm welcome, and even made friends with a little dragon ourselves, Durin. He can’t talk, though – but I like to think I understand his roars, a little better every day…”
“Yeah!” Paimon joined in, kicking her little legs in glee at the memory. “Rawoo’s really cool! You’d get along so well!”
“Still, it’ll be good to spend some time here,” the Traveler quietly added.
They’d seen the Abyss. Kintsugi wasn’t an idiot – he knew what Natlan was famed for. They’d seen the Abyss, and so had he. He clenched his jaw, frowning just a little at the knowledge he might actually be pleasant company for once, as he understood them better than almost anyone right now. “Alright,” he sighed, closing his eyes. “I suppose these festivals are rare enough… I’ve already happily sat out this year’s Wisdom Gala, no matter how Vahumana badgered me to take part in running the stand…” He gnashed out the latter part, shaking his head at the audacity to even make that request, even months after the fact.
That got a chuckle out of the Traveler, and moreso out of Paimon. “I’d have paid to see it,” the outlander remarked with a small grin. Kintsugi sent a dry look back. “Fortunately, I have no need for your Mora.” He extended his hand, silently demanding. “I’m not boating down the Ardravi with you,” he sneered. “Shortcut, please.”
Durin peeked out of his haori as the Traveler reached back, pointy ears perked. “Oh, oh! Are we gonna…”
“…are we gonna teleport?”
Sumeru City’s music and commotion had fallen away in a blink, making way for the buzz of a quieter, yet still rather active new cityscape. The scent of spices and the rainforest was still there, but now rounded out by salty sea air – and the sound of lapping waves wasn’t far away either. Durin looked around, amazed, until Kintsugi gently pushed him back into his haori. “Careful.”
“Aw, we can just act like you have a pet bat or something…”
“I said careful, not that you couldn’t look.”
The little bat happily snuggled back until only his eyes and ears peeked out from Kintsugi’s collar, marveling at his surroundings. “Hehe, yay…”
There was more than enough to see as the four of them put themselves in motion across Port Ormos’ great bridge, passing Shapur Hotel and taking the elevator down to the marketplace proper. It’d always been a bustling center of trade, but now a lot of that had made way for stalls selling candy and decorations, and hosting games. As the Traveler had said, it was still being set up, and the masses hadn’t yet arrived – not those from the city, and not the flood of outlanders that’d arrive for the festival itself either. Kintsugi had to admit it was nice, compared to the city. After this, he might venture into the woods, though.
Paimon led the way to one of the stands – run by a kindly, elderly man, and already surrounded by children. He seemed to host many colourful games; cards, dice and little figurines were scattered all around, and a few people were already playing at tables nearby. The old man smiled at them. “Why, my greetings to you, dear travelers, and to your little friend. Have you been enjoying the Sabzeruz Festival?”
“It’s not Sabzeruz yet,” Kintsugi grumbled under his breath, smiling just a little as he heard and felt Durin giggling in his haori.
“If you’re both interested, I, the Phantom Toy Master, shall be pleased to invite you to play a new game – the ‘Rocking Carriage’, a flower that blooms only during the Festival,” the old man proudly presented, gesturing at an ornate, colourful mechanism resting on his stand. It seemed driven by clockwork and intended to continuously cycle, featuring a miniature flower carriage riding along a now-still road. Paimon inspected it curiously. “And what’s that?” She looked up, eyes glittering. “Just hearing the name, Paimon’s kinda imagining Nahida happily swaying from side to side in her carriage!”
“Even I’m getting all gladsome over here,” the Traveler chuckled, making Kintsugi roll his eyes and fold his arms. What was he doing here again…?
“Wonderful,” the old man smiled. “All in Sumeru wish that the ‘Dendro Archon shall be happy every day’, after all.”
…Kintsugi supposed that much was true and did apply to him as well. Right, maybe he wasn’t flying off into Apam Woods right this moment.
“That association you made… Ah, what an excellent scene! One that deserves to be rendered upon a magnificent scroll, if I do say so myself!” Before Kintsugi could turn around and walk off in complete exasperation, the old man went on. “Still, the atmosphere of this game is a livelier thing. Rather than a celebration, it’s best thought of as an adventure…”
…Durin was wiggling in excitement in his sleeve. He couldn’t walk away now.
“…‘Smart or not, nice or naughty, every child with a good heart will receive their own flower carriage during the Sabzeruz Festival celebrations. Riding in their carriage, the children shall embark on unique adventures, encountering and overcoming danger, and finding the greatest treasure, a thousand blooming flowers…”
The Traveler exchanged glances with Paimon. “Trust me, we’re danger-overcoming pros.”
“Hehe, that’s right!” Paimon proudly agreed. “And as for that treasure, it may as well be ours already!”
“Haha, good, good. In that case, play on, play to your heart’s content!”
Paimon eyed the mechanism. “Wait, you’re just giving it to us indefinitely?”
The old man chuckled. “In truth… this one still requires some testing. It may not be perfectly suited for the children yet… the pacing, the difficulty… but as you are, as you say, professional adventurers…”
“Of course, of course,” Paimon smirked. “We should’ve known…”
“In keeping with Sabzeruz tradition, I can offer you candy in return for enjoying my game and giving me some pointers,” the old man cajoled, with just a hint of mischief.
“Sabzeruz traditions are the best traditions!” Paimon celebrated.
“We’ll play,” the Traveler smiled, carefully taking up the mechanism in order to make room for the other children wanting a peek at the stand’s games. “We’ll bring it back soon!”
The four of them ended up at a nearby bench at the edge of the marketplace, where the crowds thinned and no one paid them any heed. The Traveler placed the mechanism in his lap. Kintsugi eyed him. “Why are we all the way out here?”
“We have two ‘children’ with us. I thought it best for them to try it out.”
Durin peeked out his head. “You mean me? Really?”
Paimon gave a happy wiggle. “Give it a go, Durin! Paimon will go after you… even if she’s not really a child.” She glared at the Traveler, but there was no bite to it.
“Oh, wow… it’s so shiny and pretty!” Durin fluttered out, settling before the mechanism, setting it in motion with his wings and figuring out the controls. He clumsily steered the little carriage back and forth, collecting colourful flowers and evading pots. It played music as well, an intricate, whirling song, and Durin soon realized the carriage’s moves were matched to the rhythm. “Ahh, this is fun! No changes needed! So many flowers, such pretty music… I could do this forever!”
“Please don’t,” Kintsugi remarked, but he couldn’t keep from resting his chin in his hand and beholding the little bat. At this moment, maybe he could do this forever, too.
Then – fortunately? unfortunately? – Durin fumbled a little too much with his wing claws, ran into one too many pots, and the game ended. “Aw…” He fluttered up, conceding and making way. “Your turn, Paimon.”
“Hehee, no need to tell Paimon twice!”
Paimon, predictably, was more coordinated due to having hands and being used to manipulating more finicky things. Kintsugi fought his urge to glare and pick sides, but Durin cheered her on the whole way, even as she surpassed his score. “Yeah! You finished the song! Great job!”
“Paimon couldn’t let Nahida’s carriage get stuck, she needs to reach her destination… and her candy reward,” Paimon grinned meaningfully. “You want to try the next song, Durin?”
The little bat gleefully fluttered back in. “Yes!”
As the two ‘children’ alternately played and spectated, Kintsugi shifted his gaze and attention to the Traveler beside him. The outlander seemed to be basking in the sweet, colourful atmosphere, but there were things the puppet wanted to know. He wouldn’t let them be sugarcoated – literally or figuratively. “What did you see out there?” he murmured, quietly enough to not disturb Paimon and Durin. “In Natlan?”
The Traveler met his gaze, almost startling him with the hollowness beneath the gold. “We beat it back.”
“Natlan borders Sumeru, and the desert’s already fallen once,” Kintsugi quietly growled back. “Almost twice. We need to know.” He wasn’t out to alter the course of the entire world anymore – but his own nation, he did have his eyes on. Even with his Archon’s birthday approaching. Especially then.
“It won’t leave Natlan for now.” The Traveler hesitated for just a moment. “And… I think you already know, don’t you?”
Kintsugi quieted. His eyes were venomous pools of ink. He did know.
“I’d say I wished you’d have been by our side, but I wouldn’t wish it upon you again.”
“Valiant hero,” the puppet sneered. “It’ll be upon all of us with a heart that soft.”
“At least let Nahida enjoy her birthday,” the Traveler argued under his breath. “When we speak of our travels this time, good things only…”
“Like you pretended with Durin?” Kintsugi scoffed. He glanced at the little bat, still distracted by the game – and hesitated. On the one hand, Nahida didn’t need to be coddled like a child; she was the ruler of a nation. On the other… she was a child, as well as a god. And it was nearly her birthday, only her second proper one ever. He supposed he’d keep his mouth shut and trust the Traveler on this one – much as it pained him. “…Hmph. Alright. It does spare us a lot of hassle if you insist on handling it.”
“Thank you,” the Traveler chuckled. “Also for letting us enjoy the festival in our own way.”
“That’s not – ugh…” Yeah, alright. He supposed that was part of it too. It’d be a good thing if he didn’t have to see the Traveler’s eyes go hollow like that again.
Beside them, Paimon ended another round of the carriage game – the final one, by the looks of it. “Finished it! You’ve also had enough, Durin?”
“Mm-hmm!”
“Alright!” The fairy turned to the Traveler. “Come on, let’s go give our feedback and get our snacks! Unless Hat Guy wants to try…”
Kintsugi glared at her cheeky, beyond annoying tone of voice. “No.”
“Thought so, but it couldn’t hurt to ask!” Paimon threw back, floating away. They returned to the stand, Durin hiding away again, but happily devouring his share of the candy given in thanks. Kintsugi glanced into his haori as he passed the little bat one yalda candy after another. “Mind the crumbs.”
“Mm, sure!”
There was still a disconcerting amount of crunching going on as they made their way over to a different stall. This one was manned by a young woman in the robes of a prestigious researcher and decorated with an ornate incense burner, as well as a stack of scholarly-looking books. Five people were chatting at a table nearby, looking anywhere from hopeful to dejected to tipsy, looking into a teacup clearly hoping to find a different beverage. This stand didn’t seem to host any kind of game… but as they were about to pass by, the woman running it still addressed them. “Excuse me. Are you the Traveler, by any chance?”
“That’s me,” the outlander replied. “What can I do for you?” Beside him, Kintsugi rolled his eyes. Couldn’t go three steps without someone wanting things. At least the Traveler was a good lightning rod, and no one was addressing him.
“Ah, good!” the woman brightened. “Good thing I didn’t get the wrong person. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Dharmakirti, a Dastur from Amurta.” She placed a hand on her chest in greeting. “We’ve heard of you, of course, but in truth, we don’t know much about you. But we’ve been doing research on dreamscapes lately, and the Dendro Archon informed us that you were the most cool-headed person she’s ever seen when distinguishing dreams from reality.”
“Ah, she flatters me,” the Traveler replied, smiling and rubbing the back of his neck as Paimon gave a bright grin – and Kintsugi stiffened. Excuse you? He’d daresay he was the one with the most experience where it came to dreamscapes by now! It was often enough that Kusanali ended up unwittingly dragging him into one when her mind was just a little bit too active for whatever reason, or when she fell asleep with her face in a book when sneakily reading deep into the night…
“Nay, don’t be so modest,” Dharmakirti was saying. “Anyway, that’s precisely what our project is about, and our data indicates that people struggle to consciously wake up after falling asleep. We intend to utilize the psychological influence that dreams have on people to help regulate various psychological disorders. Specifically, we will use targeted environmental hints and guidance based on each patient’s individual situation to create a suitable dreamscape for them.”
Kintsugi eyed the people at the table. Those must be the patients, then. It made sense – he’d somewhat followed Kusanali’s communications with Bimarstan and the Amurta scholars, sharing her gifts with them after having seen how much dreamsharing had helped Furina during their joint visit to Fontaine. He’d been all for it; making it so this divine gift could be used by more individuals than merely the god in question? Of course his wise, benevolent Archon would be the first to take such action. All those lousy Seven should have, starting thousands of years ago, but better late than never.
“The technology to enter shared dreamscapes is still rather new,” Dharmakirti went on, “and advancements are mainly thanks to the many improvements made by the Dendro Archon. Simply put, our goal is to address patients’ psychological problems by adjusting their cognitive states within dreamscapes.”
The Traveler had nodded along, a slightly troubled expression making its way onto his face. “That seems… complicated.”
“Ah, right,” the Amurta scholar chuckled. “Sorry. Couldn’t help rambling on about our project a bit. It is quite complicated, yes…” She paused, looking at the table of patients, still obliviously having tea and chatting away amongst themselves. “Simply put, we’re conducting medical research on the psychological effects of dreams, but we’ve gotten a bit stuck when it comes to practical implementation…”
The Traveler folded his arms, giving a slightly weary smile. “And so you need my help?”
“Got it in one go,” Dharmakirti grinned. “Heh, this is embarrassing.”
Kintsugi sighed – he’d seen this coming a mile away, but it was still a marvel to behold, again and again. It really was embarrassing, on both accounts.
“None of our project members have any experience maintaining awareness within a dreamscape,” the scholar explained. “So that left us all feeling really depressed. But now that we know people like you exist, hope has been rekindled!”
The puppet finally stepped forward. “People like him and me.”
Dharmakirti turned to him. “Begging your pardon?”
Kintsugi narrowed his eyes, barely biting back a ‘then beg’, but then he smirked – recognition had dawned on the scholar’s face. “You’re Hat Guy! The Archon’s right hand!”
“I have a fair bit of experience myself. You’ve netted yourself two volunteers.”
“Really?” Paimon suspiciously questioned. “What are you playing at?”
“You wanted me to ‘join in on the fun’,” he snapped back. “Now I am, and you’re questioning me? What are you playing at?” He had to bite back a grin as Paimon sputtered and pouted, backing off. “Oh alright…”
“So…” Dharmakirti cautiously re-entered the conversation. “From what I’m hearing, you’re both willing to help?”
“Sure thing,” the Traveler smiled. Kintsugi gave a silent nod.
“Great! I’ll organize the patient files right away.” The scholar shuffled some papers. “The experimental process works like this. You just need to relax and enter the dreamscape together with the patient. That’s half the battle.”
“Consider it done,” Kintsugi airily dismissed her.
“…Next, when you’re inside the dreamscape, you just need to follow the instructions given in the file to find the anomalous aspects related to the patient in question. Correct them, leave the dream, and that’s that.”
The Traveler glanced at the puppet. “You’re on.”
“Oh, it’s a competition, now? You said it, not me.”
Paimon grinned. In his haori, Kintsugi could feel Durin chuckling.
The Amurta scholar gave them both a pointed look. “Every patient has unique circumstances and must be handled carefully,” she remarked with emphasis.
“We’re taking this seriously,” the Traveler reassured her. “We’re ready.”
“Very well.” She handed them both a file, indicating two of the patients at the table. “It’d be best to start with Collingwood and Youguang, over there. Read carefully, then enter the shared dream.”
They both took a glance at their papers. Then Kintsugi took a glance at the Traveler. “Tricked you into childish competition.”
“Tricked you into doing something kind,” the Traveler mumbled back as they made their way to another table to sit down.
“I am not tricked. All I do, I do of my own volition these days.”
“Tricked you into doing something kind of your own volition.”
“Then it’s not a trick, you cretin.”
The Traveler just laughed at that, quiet and not at all malicious, even as Paimon stuck out her tongue. “Just read your paper, Hat Guy!”
“Tch…”
Venturing into their respective dreams was easy as anything. Kintsugi supposed he did have experience, and he had in fact seen others struggle to hang on to a specific dreamscape, or lose themselves to dream logic and forget they were dreaming, but to him it simply felt effortless now.
…He also supposed he’d learned to distinguish reality from dream in the harshest of ways, up there in his divine form when he’d thought he’d claimed two Gnoses, but instead been ensnared in a net of wisdom and whimsy. Hm. Well, not everyone was ‘fortunate’ enough to get educated by the Lesser Lord herself.
He found himself on a foggy mountainside, surrounded by the wrecked remains of buildings, and with a fluttery little presence by his side.
In dreams and fairytales, Durin took his true form. It was always a quiet delight to see those soft purple scales and gold-tipped horns again. “Hey there.”
“Hey, Hat Guy!” Durin looked around, searching for their dreamer. If anyone else was nearby, he knew he was not to use Kintsugi’s true name. “Wow, it’s spooky here.”
“Hmm. Don’t lose your head.” The puppet strode off, grinning quietly to himself as Durin fluttered and scrambled to catch up with him. “Y-you mean that figuratively, right? Right? H-Hat Guy…?”
“You should’ve stayed a bat,” he remarked as his little charge rejoined him. “Would’ve matched the atmosphere.” The fog deepened, shrouding the wreckage, casting strange shadows and allowing stranger lights to flicker through.
“…Bats are considered… spooky? Why?”
Kintsugi faltered, frowning. “…Hm.” Why, indeed? They were nothing but fuzzy little creatures on the lookout for themselves – and in the case of the species Durin mimicked, wouldn’t hurt a fly. “No idea, actually. Just some inane mortal fear.” Perhaps because bats were active at night… but Durin seemed to have forgotten that detail while venturing, and was very much active by day instead. It was all far more adorable than Kintsugi was capable of uttering.
“Suppose I’ll have to be a scaredy-bat in here…” Durin drew closer, hiding behind his shoulder. Kintsugi ruffled the fuzzy fur at the back of his head. “You’re a dragon in here. Relax, it’s just a dream.” He peered through the mist. Some of the shadows coalesced into something a little more recognizable. “There’s our source of annoyance now.”
“O demons, great divine beings, and honored adepti, please, shower us with your mercy!” came a voice raised in what seemed to be prayer. “Do not hide in objects floating to and fro, please, show yourselves, before I die of fright!”
“Calm down already,” Kintsugi called out. “Nothing worth all this fuss.”
Youguang squinted through the mist, brightening as she recognized Kintsugi. “Ah, it’s you! And…” Her eyes fixated on Durin, still half-hiding behind the puppet, hiding a little more now. “Is that… no, surely…”
Demons and floating objects… “He’s… with me. I brought him to the dream.”
“A figment of your imagination? A familiar?”
“Something like that.”
“I’m Durin,” Durin helpfully supplied. “We’re here to help!”
“A pleasure to meet you,” the young woman nodded, still a wary eye on the little dragon, but getting to the point nonetheless. “We’re about to properly enter the dreamscape together soon, I believe… I’m Youguang, a guard from Liyue. I touched something… unclean while at work recently, and I haven’t had a good night’s sleep since. That’s why I sought help.”
Durin shook his head in sympathy. “That’s awful.”
“If I can dispel my nightmares through this dreamscape therapy, that would truly be amazing.” Youguang gestured at the fog ahead. Kintsugi strode in without wasting any more time. In Youguang’s file, he’d read she most likely had subconscious anxieties – about the ‘something unclean’, most likely. Would subduing the symptom of her visions really do something about that? Nahida often favoured directly addressing the subject.
…Well, no. She favoured letting the patient come to the correct conclusion on their own, only aiding through metaphor and encouragement at best. Maybe this really wasn’t all that different.
Either way, he wasn’t here to argue with Amurta’s methods. He was here to beat the Traveler. “Look for misbehaving objects,” he told Durin.
The little dragon nodded, looking around furtively. “O-okay! Can I just point them out to you…?”
He strode through the mist, grinning a little. “Scaredy-bat, indeed.”
“It’s not that! I’m just… cold…”
“No need to stick close to me in that case. I don’t produce body heat.”
Durin grumbled just a little bit, but didn’t leave his side. His big red eyes cut through the fog, catching on statues, glimmering lanterns… was that a flicker of blue light…?
The dragon froze. “There!”
A statue, hovering and wobbling above the ground. Kintsugi moved in, wanting to push it down – but it dissipated as soon as he touched it, leaving only a bright blue flame. “There. Nothing to it. You try the next one.”
“Ahh, Hat Guy…”
“Seems to me you also have some fears and anxieties,” the puppet chuckled. “Why not cure two patients with one dream…?”
“No fair, I’m here to have fun with you!” The dragon pouted, but then startled in the air as he spotted a floating crate ahead. He fidgeted, eyes shifting this way and that. “Well, okay…” He fluttered up, tapping the crate with a hind paw, immediately fluttering back as it dissolved into another blue flame. Kintsugi joined him, passing his hand through the quiet fire. “See?”
Big red eyes turned his way. “Okay, okay. We’ll take turns?”
“Sounds good to me.” And so it went; seeking out misbehaving objects and bringing them to order one by one, until Youguang’s voice rang out through the dream. “The number of demons has plummeted! This must be a blessing from some illuminated being!”
Kintsugi looked up from the latest blue fire. “Tch… already lost in dream logic again, and that just after looking us in the eye… so feeble-minded…”
“Thank you all for having mercy on a lowly guard such as myself! I’ll be leaving for my next job now…” And the woman’s voice died away, and the dream started fading around Kintsugi and Durin. The little dragon quickly pressed closer to the puppet’s side. “See you in the real world!”
“See you in my sleeve,” Kintsugi smirked. “Let’s see who was the faster…”
They were, it turned out. It took the Traveler and Paimon just a little longer to solve their patient’s case, and Kintsugi had the pleasure of quietly mocking their sleeping faces across the table until they both woke up, and were startled by how closely and intently he was staring at them. “Ahh!” Paimon shrieked, flailing back. “Don’t do that!”
“Do what? I’m just sitting here.” Kintsugi leaned back. “I win.” He wished he could say ‘we win’ but someone might overhear and think him unstable, too. He rested a hand on his haori where Durin hid, instead.
“Yeah, yeah! Don’t celebrate too soon, there’s more patients to help! Come on, Traveler!”
“Sure, I’ve got time,” the outlander chuckled, letting himself be dragged back to Dharmakirti.
They received two more files – this time on the Inazuman gentleman and senior Sumeran researcher. The Traveler glanced at Kintsugi. “Shall we take the Inazuman case, Hat Guy…?”
“No,” Kintsugi muttered, surprising himself. “Let me. It’s okay.” It’d been a while since he’d been directly involved with anyone or anything from his former homeland, other than the kotatsu in his Sanctuary room, or his favourite foods. Maybe he should take this opportunity, see where it led.
“Well… okay. If you’re sure.” The Traveler handed him the file. “See you on the other side!”
“Nice to meet you. Higuchi Tetsuya’s the name, a youkai novel writer from Inazuma.”
He barely had eyes for the man in front of them. The Inazuman countryside was all around, a tranquil, hauntingly familiar nighttime vista far more unnerving than the spooky Liyuen hillside with how right it felt. It wasn’t real, but he still felt himself slip right in like a puzzle piece. The landscape seemed to welcome him in as if it’d missed him.
Narrow canals, farmland, small wooden homes with thatched roofs. Lanterns lighting up the ancestral village. People, strolling around, chatting with one another.
“I’ve been under lots of pressure lately, so… I’ll try anything, do whatever it takes, to get back on my feet.”
Kintsugi forced himself to look at their patient. “Yeah, whatever.”
Tetsuya frowned. “‘Whatever’? Aren’t you supposed to be a professional at this?”
The puppet folded his arms, glaring. “Who says I’m not?”
“Hat Guy…”
He glanced at Durin, hovering at his shoulder. “Yeah, yeah…”
“And what’s that?” the writer wanted to know. “A piece of my wayward inspiration? If so, hand it over…”
“Absolutely not.” Kintsugi strode off and past the Inazuman, harshly shoulder-checking him in passing – even if he only reached the man’s elbow. “Let us do our job and be grateful.” He stepped into the village, Durin following timidly. “…So sorry, mister Higuchi… Hat Guy, did you have to be so rude…?”
“He’s not gonna remember a thing. The last one didn’t.”
“It’s about the principle of the thing, though,” Durin insisted. Kintsugi glanced at him in amusement. “Where’d you learn such big words…”
“Um… from you…?”
“…Heh.”
The village was all around them now, people streaming past, talking and laughing, children running past holding dolls and toys. Some were in the farmland, leaning on fences. Other sat on the stone bridges spanning the canals. It was all very distracting.
“We’re supposed to be looking for youkai, but they all look so human,” Durin pondered. “You know how to find them, Hat Guy?” The dragon turned in place, looking over as he didn’t get an answer. “…Hat Guy?”
Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to take on the Inazuman’s dream.
Kintsugi had gazed out to sea from Port Ormos, Apam Woods and Devantaka Mountain often enough, glaring at the islands on the horizon, feeling bitter about them. But actually being here now… seeing the details that made Inazuma what it was, not just hating the overall idea of it… it was different. It felt warm. Familiar.
It felt very different from the last time he’d been here, too. Seeing the nation as hollow and ripe for draining of anything useful to fuel himself. Now he knew it’d never been hollow at all – and here was the proof. Even if it was a dream…
…It’d never been the nation or its people themselves that were the problem, after all. His trouble had only ever been with one, exceptionally hollow, incomprehensible individual, one who happened to be nicely represented by the nation as a whole when he hadn’t been able to reach her…
“Hat Guy?”
He snapped to attention. “Masks,” he muttered. “Some of them are wearing masks. This guy sucks at his job. No imagination at all.” Seriously, this was how Tetsuya envisioned his youkai? He needed more than inspiration. What he needed was a good nightmare to teach him not everything needed to look human.
“Ah!” Durin brightened. “I see them now! Over there, and there, and on the bridge…” He fluttered off, pausing before one of them. “Hello! Could you rejoin mister Higuchi’s imagination, please?”
“Don’t waste time,” Kintsugi grumbled, passing by and swatting the masked person on the forehead, dissipating them into thin air, to Durin’s shock. “They’re not real.”
“Oh, well… that’s easy enough!” The dragon happily flapped off, searching out masked people. Kintsugi trailed behind, looking around at a calmer pace – and not just looking for ‘youkai’. “What, little blue fires scare you, but silent mockeries of people don’t?”
“They’re just people! Nothing surprising about them… nothing unexplainable…”
“…Heh.” And wasn’t that just it? Nothing about this setting was unexplainable. He knew exactly why he felt so unnervingly at home here. The few Inazuman festivals he’d seen when his life still made sense had been just like this – warmth, masks, togetherness. It was his pleasure to root out the silent fakes from the happily chatting village populace. Return them to Tetsuya’s mind… he could sort them out in there.
In the end, none were left, and Tetsuya’s happy voice rang out through the dream. “Found them! I’ve got it now, quick, give me a pen, it’s time to write!” And just like with Youguang, the dream faded, and Kintsugi gave a faint smile as he was pulled out of the warmth of his own memories just the same.
He woke up to see Paimon’s starry eyes, and very little else. He immediately flapped her away in disgust. “Ugh…”
“That’s how it feels! That’s how it feels!” Paimon triumphantly tumbled after him as he rose from his seat. “And the Traveler and Paimon were faster this time, so ha!”
“Okay,” he shrugged. “Fine by me.”
“Huh? You’re not mad?”
“Would it be more fun for you if I were?”
The fairy folded her hands behind her back, considering it. “Hmm, nah. Paimon’s just still getting used to how much you’ve mellowed out.” She tilted her head. “But weren’t you the one claiming this was a competition?”
“I’m opting out. There’s one more patient. You guys can take him, I’m off.” He glanced into his haori. “Durin, you want to go in with them?”
“Uh, um…” The little bat looked up at him, ears twitching. “Pick me up later?”
“I will.”
“Then… okay!”
Kintsugi waved a hand, striding off. “See you later.” He had to clear his head, get some air. He was all too glad to walk along Ormos’ dockside, out beyond the crowds and candy-covered bushes, headed towards the sea… headed towards that unbroken view across the calm, sunlit ocean, to the western islands of the Inazuman archipelago.
“Inazuman specialties! Fresh from across the sea!”
His head snapped around to the market stall in question. He hesitated for just a moment – but then mapped out the rest of his day for himself, decided, and moved in.
“Inazuman specialties, come in fresh this morning from Kannazuka, Yashiori, Watatsumi! Sango pearl, raimei angelfish, assorted unagi…!”
He made his way through the other buyers, faced the seller. “A batch of unagi for me.”
His purchase was swiftly wrapped up, neat and fresh. “Anything else? Some angelfish for that special ‘zing’ to your meal, perhaps…?”
“No need for any ‘zing’,” he replied darkly. He’d keep that garish, bright purple Electro pollution far away from him and his meals. “This’ll be all.” He paid and walked away, feeling rather strange about it, still – how the mighty had fallen. Here he was, doing his stupid little groceries with his stupid little bit of money he’d earned while doing stupid little commissions and errands around the nation and for the Akademiya. His former colleagues and comrades would never have let him hear the end of it. But he supposed his current income was far more well-earned than the massive sums he’d made when he’d just been on standby, essentially drifting through the world just as aimlessly as before he’d joined the Fatui, or laying around on the operating table.
He wondered what’d happened to his old account. Was it just still there, inaccessible, a mystery to the Northland Bank? He almost hoped so. He hoped he could still be just as frustrating to the Fatui as when he’d been a Harbinger. The thought brought a thin smile to his face.
His smile warmed a little as he bounced the unagi package in his palm, though. He should get these more often. Sand eel was nice and all, but not the same.
Fresh from Watatsumi. He’d had quite the influence there during the civil war, too. He should probably atone to them at some point as well.
…He should get back to the idiots at the dreamers’ table. They were probably done by now. He should pick up Durin before they got sucked up into something even more inane…
…they were at a different stand already. Of course they were. Kintsugi lingered, not wanting to disturb whatever they were up to now just yet.
“…The one and only, the illustrious hero without equal, the supreme candidate to play the Knight of Flowers…” the Vahumana scholar behind the low table was saying, marveling at the Traveler. “No, what I should say is that you yourself fully deserve the title ‘Knight of Flowers’. No asterisks attached!”
Safi. Possibly his most foolish of colleagues. Granted, most of them seemed hellbent on making the top of that list, constantly bumping one another down.
Beside the gushing man was someone Kintsugi recognized as well; Vihar, who’d played the Knight of Flowers during many prior Festivals. He’d been one of Nahida’s precious few followers before she’d been freed, and Kintsugi had sort of assumed the man had a good head on his shoulders, but he was visibly agreeing with Safi’s nonsense.
Even Paimon seemed a little weirded out. “Yikes, this is one excited scholar! His eyes lit up the second he saw you, Traveler…”
“It is a little much,” the outlander agreed.
“Ahem,” Vihar chuckled. “It is an honour to see you once more, Mr. Traveler. This is a folklorist from Vahumana, Safi. He’s been taking advantage of Sabzeruz Festival fever to plan a film based on various historical documents and folklore, using the latest Fontainian technology.”
“The film focuses on ‘The Unknown Battles of the Knight of Flowers,’” Safi took over. “It revolves around how the Knight descended into mysterious and profoundly perilous places on the Dendro Archon’s behalf, slaying many evils…”
“Just hold it right there,” Paimon halted them. “Paimon can guess where this is going… You don’t have any actors who can fight, so you can’t shoot the fight scenes?”
Safi indicated the Traveler. “Strictly speaking, whether acting in regular scenes or fight scenes, there is no performer more suitable than Mr. Traveler.”
Kintsugi had to chuckle, even through his disgust. Of course they wanted the Traveler for this. He was the first to actually fight for Nahida during her lifetime.
It was mildly hilarious that the one he’d fought against was present here as well. However, it didn’t outweigh the disgust. This was what the Traveler regularly got up to? There was no better actor for regular scenes either…? He knew the Traveler kept a lot bottled up and put on that bright golden mask for others, but outright saying it like that was just obscene.
Safi was still going. “Should you be willing to perform, this film will surely become the single greatest cinematographic work regarding the Knight of Flowers, and will earn substantial revenue from its theater run…”
“Naturally, both of you will be adequately compensated,” Vihar added.
Paimon grinned. “Hehe, with the Traveler’s looks, he deserves to be a star! What do you think, Traveler?”
“Fight scenes are really easy,” the outlander shrugged. “I can give the other scenes a shot, too.”
Safi launched into a litany of gratitude – during which the Traveler glanced back, catching Kintsugi’s eye. “…Unless someone else wants this role…?”
Kintsugi blinked. How long had the Traveler known he’d been there? “Me? No. I’m good. Or rather… not that good.” He was the Archon’s shadow. Not any kind of flowery Knight.
“You’re Nahida’s right hand.”
He stepped forward, joining them. “Did you hit your head? Can’t leave you for a second, can I?”
The Traveler gave him a dry smile. “Like you wouldn’t fight for her.”
He would. He had. “In a serious situation, yes. This is an insult to any of those occasions.” He jerked his chin, taking the Traveler aside for a moment. “And maybe you should get seriousness out of your head right now, too,” he muttered under his breath. “You’re not here to fight, remember?” This festival was supposed to be a distraction from the Nation of War…
The Traveler blinked for just a moment, but then gathered himself, smirking just a little. “Those words make you sound like a friend who actually cares…”
Kintsugi groaned in disgust, stepping back at once. “Oh, give it a rest.” He glanced to the side – something had caught his eye. Four rather colourful somethings. “There’s your friends who actually care,” he nodded, indicating the four familiar people snooping around the marketplace, acting all furtive for some reason.
The Traveler’s eyes had brightened, and so had Paimon’s. “Hey, Tighnari and Collei are over there! Oh, and Dehya and Candace are with them! Let’s go say hi!”
Mission accomplished. A sufficient distraction to keep the hollow darkness out of the Traveler’s eyes. He could finally leave now. Still, despite this little victory, Kintsugi let out a quiet scoff. “They are, no doubt, desperately in need of your help… or I don’t know, actually want to spend time with you without expecting anything in return for once.”
The fairy politely bid Safi and Vihar goodbye for now. “We’ll come help out later, promise!”
The Traveler hadn’t entirely forgotten about Kintsugi just yet. “I didn’t give you anything in return, either.”
“You gave me a headache,” the puppet retorted. “And you’re going to give me something else.” He held out his hand. “Hand him over.”
The Traveler caught on to his meaning, grinning a little. “…Ah, I see. Good, I thought you wanted to hold hands again.”
“Let it go already,” the puppet rolled his eyes, discreetly taking hold of the tiny bat passing between the two of them. “Get out of my sight.”
“Happy Sabzeruz,” Paimon teased, sticking out her tongue as she drifted off by a chuckling Traveler’s side. Durin gave her a tiny wave just before he was tucked back into Kintsugi’s haori. “Happy Sabzeruz, you two…!”
“There’s two more days to go, get it through your head,” the puppet growled quietly, out of the Traveler and Paimon’s earshot.
“But everyone else is saying it!” the little bat whined.
“You can think for yourself.”
“What if I decide for myself I want to say it?”
“Ugh, you’re such a handful…”
Durin wiggled inside his sleeve, sniffing the air, distracted at once. “What did you get? What’s in the bag? It smells… fishy…”
“Inazuman unagi. We’re spending the night in the forest, I’m going to cook it over one of Arapacati’s firepits for dinner.”
“Ooh. Can I have something Inazuman, too? Do they sell Inazuman fruit here? I’m curious.”
Kintsugi chuckled. “What, you want to try lavender melon? I doubt you’d like it.”
“Lavender melon,” the dragon echoed thoughtfully. “Hey, I’m lavender in my true form! I bet I’d love it!”
“…The fruit stands are over there.” Kintsugi gestured into the direction the Traveler had gone off in. He didn’t make a move to follow.
“…So?”
“I just said goodbye to those two idiots.”
“Hat Guy, please…”
He pulled down his hat and put himself into motion. “Ugh, fine.” Far be it from him to let the presence of some overeager idiots keep him from getting what he wanted. None of them were particularly close to him, fortunately. He strolled closer, sticking to the stalls, pulling his hat down again to make it clear he didn’t want any interaction as he gave the group a wide berth in passing.
“Hehe, guess we came at the perfect time!” Paimon was saying. “A grand celebration calls for even more good food and fun than usual!”
Ah, so they were planning a shared dinner or something. How ordinary.
“…But, what were you gossiping about just now? Paimon heard something about a secret?”
He faltered, lingering. Secrets, hm?
“Over here, you two,” Tighnari murmured. Kintsugi barely caught it over the chatter of the crowds. “I’ll explain everything in private.”
The puppet chuckled to himself. Well, when it was just handed to him like that. He turned on his heel, following at a distance as the group secluded themselves between a few crates on a nearby dock. Amateurs. He’d been eavesdropping for centuries, and old habits died hard. It was only too easy to find a proper listening spot.
“What are you doing, Hat Guy?” Durin whispered.
“Shh. Just having a little fun of my own.” He had said he’d be enjoying the festival in his own way, after all.
Tighnari spoke again, barely a foot away between the crates. “We’re preparing a birthday surprise for the Dendro Archon.”
“Oooh! A birthday surprise!”
A surprise. For the mind-reading God of Wisdom. Really.
“…If we want this to be a surprise, the fewer people who know, the better. We’re dealing with the God of Wisdom here – a single slip of the tongue is enough to spoil the whole thing.”
Kintsugi supposed this was why they were all the way here in Port Ormos. Though Nahida’s powers did reach throughout the whole nation, it might be a little harder to sense anything here – and that was provided she was looking at all. She didn’t like to use her powers and circumvent people’s agency – she much preferred to be told things voluntarily. It was a rare thing for her to give in to curiosity that way nowadays… but around her birthday? There was no knowing.
“The Dendro Archon loves candy, so we want to take advantage of that,” Collei explained.
Tighnari spoke up again. “We left most of the specifics to Kaveh. Right now, all we need to do is purchase the food and decorations.”
“Is there anything we can do to help?” the Traveler wanted to know, immediately making Kintsugi roll his eyes. Ever the people-pleaser. There was no helping some.
Alright, he’d heard enough. A birthday surprise… as if the festival wasn’t huge enough. Nahida did appreciate being treated as a person and a friend, though, not just as the Archon. She’d love the personal touch. She loved even the smallest gesture. Just the kind of person she was.
What he planned to do for her would probably pale in comparison to these combined efforts, even roping in the Light of Kshahrewar. It’d have to suffice, though. Either way, he’d have a lot of birthdays together with her, he’d get plenty of chances to get it right eventually.
As he walked out and got far enough away, he let out a chuckle. “I wish them luck…”
“It’s really sweet,” Durin murmured.
“They’re being so obvious. Guess I should stay away from the city now, too, though. Don’t want to ruin all their meticulous efforts.” He briefly rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help a sting of fondness for this silly little nation under its childlike Archon. Nahida really was leaving her mark, making the place her own.
He made it to the fruit stand, pleased to see they indeed had lavender melons. “Courtesy of the extra traders making their way here for the festival,” the seller informed him. “You’re in luck!”
“Goodie,” he deadpanned. Walking away with his purchase, he glanced into his haori. “Hear that? You’re in luck.”
“It doesn’t smell of much,” Durin observed as Kintsugi offered him a covert sniff. “Not as nice as Zaytun peaches…”
“You wanted it, you’re eating it.” Kintsugi strolled over to a final stand, getting himself some trusty Sumeran coffee grounds – they’d get him through the festival for sure.
Then he left the crowded market for the docks, rolled his shoulders, and leapt into the air in a white spray of seawater, sending ripples all the way out to sea, flowing with the current as he arced through the air. He soared out between the shattered tree that formed the base of Port Ormos, and around the coastline until all form of civilization had faded away. The jungle took over, alive and warm and humid, foggy where the ocean air mingled in – a whole different world, one where he felt considerably more comfortable right now. He opened his haori at last, letting Durin flutter free. “Keep up,” he told the little bat. “We’re headed to Apam Woods.”
“Ahh, the view will be perfect from there! I hope there will be fireworks already tonight!”
“It’s not Sabzeruz yet! How many times do I have to tell you!” Kintsugi groaned. “Fireworks for three days straight…” He shuddered. Durin chuckled in response, wheeling along with him. “Okay, okay… the forest does need to sleep at night…”
They tumbled across riverbanks and wooded hillsides together until the giants of Apam Woods loomed up in the sunset. Kintsugi narrowed his eyes. “We haven’t seen or heard any Aranara all flight.” No hums, no spinny petals, no flitting colours glimpsed through the leaves – nothing.
Durin flapped up, met his eyes. “They must all be in the city?”
“Mh. I really wonder what they’re planning. Heh, do they really think they can surprise Kusanali…?” The Archon and her familiars had always practically shared one mind, from the moment she’d first sent it out into the forest from her cage. Thoughts flowed freely as water and light between them.
The puppet and the bat darted into Apam Woods’ giant foggy basin, between the towering trees, skirting past rough bark and under canopies as wide as city districts. Kintsugi couldn’t help but look up and see the fading light filter through all those layers of leaves – it still boggled his mind that these trees were living beings, taller than a palace, their heartbeats too slow to perceive, at one with both the sky and the soil. This part of Vana embodied a pure sort of divinity, to him – and he didn’t hate it, didn’t feel jealous. No individual anywhere could ever compete with nature itself.
The puppet constantly looked out for Durin – the bat was very small, and in a body like this he might just join the Sumeran jungle’s food chain if he wasn’t careful. That was nature, too. No bird of prey or striking snake would get a chance if he had any say in it, though; and Durin knew to stick close, especially in a lush, lively environment like this.
Nevertheless, Kintsugi kept a sharp eye on their destination as they approached – an Aranara-made hollow high up in one of the massive trees, an opening it probably barely missed. A giant flat-topped mushroom formed a landing ledge before it, its top covered in moss, purple-plumed flowers and a handful of Rukkhashava mushrooms, like a bit of forest floor raised up all this way between water and air. There were more giant mushrooms clinging to the tree higher up, so even as it started to rain, the puppet and the little bat remained dry, only the freshness of the foggy air reaching them as they sheltered.
Durin came to a fluttering halt, latching on to the rough bark just beside the opening with both hind and wing claws, craning his head to gaze up at the suddenly-cloudy skies. “Whoa…”
Kintsugi chuckled to himself, venturing into their shelter. The firepit was just inside, stocked with fresh kindling and all the cooking supplies one might need. As he lit it with the provided flint, the first smoke rose up through the tree, exiting through holes further up, their path curved so rainwater wouldn’t leak in. It was ingeniously made; Arapacati held the respect of many other Aranara due to her larger-than-life attitude, so it was no surprise they’d helped her create these cooking spots throughout Vana. Even if the fire would scare anyone but her and her ‘brothers’.
He’d camped here with Ararycan a few times. It was a bit strange to be here without him – but at the very least, he did have another for company.
He unwrapped his unagi, beginning to skewer the pale, delicate bits of meat, then called out for Durin. “Don’t you want your melon?”
The little bat was quick to flutter inside. “Yes, yes!”
“Here.” Kintsugi held the fruit in his other hand, chuckling as Durin latched on and sank his teeth in. His grin widened as the bat drew back just as fast. “Pfah! Ugh…”
“Told you.”
“It’s so… dry. And rough!” Durin stared at it, tilting his head as if reconsidering the fruit carefully enough would change anything. “Not that sweet…”
“Try sour.” Kintsugi had to hold back laughter – the bat’s muzzle and teeth had been stained purple. His muzzle could be washed, but his teeth would remain this way for a while. He’d seen that effect often on the Inazuman people he used to be close to.
Durin looked up to him. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to try something from your homeland.”
“It’s okay. I left for a reason.”
The bat chuckled at the implication that the taste of lavender melons had been what’d done it. “…Come on…”
Kintsugi grinned back, turning his unagi. How freeing it was, being able to make little jokes about all of it now. He took the melon, skewering it alongside the fish, roasting it as well. “This’ll help.”
“Alright… I’ll try it again, then…”
In the end, they sat in the shelter’s opening to watch the rain on the canopies and the great lake far below, enjoying their respective dinners. Perched on Kintsugi’s shoulder, Durin had to admit lavender melon really was better roasted. “Still not the nicest, but I’ll eat it,” was his bright commentary.
“You’re spoiled,” Kintsugi told him, having a bite himself, too. He had to grin, especially as Durin exclaimed in indignation – maybe this really was enjoying the festival in his own way, after all… he was pretty sure Nahida would be pleased.
Durin clasped his wings before his mouth, giggling. “Your teeth are purple!”
“So are yours,” the puppet retorted, his grin not diminishing in the slightest – only widening as Durin gave a little gasp. “No!”
“Yep. You’d fit right back in with the rest of the Forest of Blessings like this. Colourful as ever.”
The bat attempted to see his own teeth, failed, then settled for wiping at them instead. Kintsugi chuckled, then looked back out into the forest – and let a hum leave him, almost unconsciously. A familiar, half-formed tune, spiraling out into the rain, joining the nightly birdcalls, the chatter of insects and the whoops of frogs.
Durin recognized the melody after a beat – he’d heard it before. “Trying to call Ararycan?”
“Couldn’t hurt.”
“Mm.” Durin joined in as Kintsugi started again. Two voices might just be better than one.
As they both finished their food in between their humming, Kintsugi was ready to give up and call it a night, already moving to rise and turn into the shelter – but just then, something hummed back from the vibrant jungle night, alighting on their mushroom.
The puppet turned back, Durin’s eyes widening in delight on his shoulder. “Well, look who decided to join us after all.”
“You’re not in the city with the rest of them!” Durin celebrated. “Hi, Ararycan!”
“Nara Kintsugi! Small dragon friend!” The blue Aranara regarded them with elation. “Calling out, singing the song of Vamadha?”
“Thought we might as well try,” Kintsugi shrugged. “I am surprised you heard, though. Isn’t everyone in the city right now? Don’t tell me you heard from that far away, and learned to teleport through the soil…”
The Aranara gave a shifty glance into the forest. “Wasn’t there. Not… not going just yet. Ararycan will be in the big Nara place when the time comes, but for now… still looking out for Vana, flying free…”
“When the time comes,” Kintsugi ventured, with just a hint of the sly interrogator he’d once been. “Time for what, exactly?”
“Ahh! Ararycan didn’t say anything! No, no!”
Durin tilted his head. “Not you too…”
“Ararycan isn’t hiding anything. Ararycan doesn’t know anything. Has been out in Vana the whole time.”
“The whole time since… when?”
“Aah, stop it, stop…”
“Hehehe…”
And the rain fell, and Kintsugi turned to brewing his pitch-black coffee on Arapacati’s little stove in between teasing Ararycan, even as the Aranara attempted to divert their attention by bringing Durin sweet Zaytun peaches – which got Durin’s attention off his back, but not Kintsugi’s, not at all. Eventually, though, all three of them were out on the ledge as the rain faded and the stars came out, a truce having been called on the teasing. Durin was drowsing by now, very un-batlike for the nightly hour as he sprawled out on Kintsugi’s leg, wings drooping down. Ararycan was quietly humming beside them, happily smiling into the night.
Kintsugi sipped his coffee, leaning back and warming his hands, allowing himself a smile as well – this very much was a way in which he could endure this festival, indeed.