Chapter Text
You are My Hope
Perhaps the drink — or the various iterations of the same experimental drink — was a bad idea.
Mixing wine and tea sounded like a good idea at first. What better way is there to prepare himself for Liyue than to mix his favorite drink with theirs? Now that he’s joined the Adventurer’s Guild to earn some Mora and gather intel on Snezhnaya, he has plenty of mora to for a few drinks at Angel’s Share. No one seems to have it in them to refuse him a drink with his true identity made public, and for that he’s grateful.
At least here, in the company of others who share the finest taste in drinks, no one expects him to solve their problems with a sweep of his hands. He can be all he really wants to be — a vagrant bard who’s still working on believing in himself so he can be worthy of others’ faith.
The drink isn’t so bad, he tells himself as he finishes his fifth glass. It’s a little strange, true, but nothing that he can’t get used to. The drink leaves him with a pleasant tingle that briefly washes away his worries for the future. That, in itself, is a boon.
However, everything changed after the seventh glass.
The buzz accompanied by a rush of energy is still there, ever-lingering, but it now comes with a strange rumble in his stomach. He sways on his seat as he carefully pries mora in his pocket, counting his payment with every pained breath he takes.
Charles flashes him a worried look as he scoops the coins up without even counting. “Is something wrong, Lord Barbatos?”
“No, everything’s fine.” His hands are sweating coldly — he’s not okay, but he’s not about to admit that out in the open. Oh, Lumine will have his hide if she finds out. “I just need a breath of fresh air before I go home and dine.”
He hops off the stool, feeling his stomach flare up with the slightest movement. Damn this mortal shell’s limitations. A couple of patrons stare as he hobbles his way across the tavern, but no one stops to accost him. That’s a small win.
The pain turns into an unbearable fire by the time he makes it back to the streets, shooting up his chest in uncomfortable waves. Clutching his stomach, he leans against the wall, trying to take deep, heaving breaths.
It’s how Lumine finds him mere minutes later, fresh from her day out with Amber. Just how she knew he’s in trouble, he doesn’t know, but he’s grateful for her timely rescue.
“Ah, the princess rescuing his poor prince,” he quips in between groans of pain. “Please do forgive me for that wince.”
Her eyes shift to the hand clutching his stomach. “I’m not sure if I should be relieved that you’re still well enough to rhyme, or worried that you might be rhyming to deflect the pain.” She places her hand on top of his with a resigned sigh.
“How’d you find me here?” he asks. Oh, this is no good — he’s not eloquent enough . Perhaps it’s the pain talking.
“Let’s save that for later.” She purses her lips and hoists him up. “We better get you home first.”
He doesn’t complain, but the long walk back to the Knights’ lodging area has turned into an agonizing exercise. Every step sends a jolt down his gut, eliciting pained yelps as they head up flight after flight of stairs.
Lumine, sweet and sensible as ever, waves away the growing crowd’s concern. He’s not sure if “Lord Barbatos just had too many drinks again ” can truly be counted as a jab at his habits, but at least it’s enough to keep the people at bay.
She’s not wrong, anyway.
“Let me get this straight,” Lumine tells him as she tucks him into bed. “You mixed wine and tea together in your ungodly drink? And it never crossed your mind that maybe, just maybe, it’s a bad idea?”
“I was emotionally preparing myself.” He can see the fiery exasperation in his eyes and admits quietly that he deserves it.
She purses her lips as she slips out of her clothes but says nothing. Instead, she picks up their soiled outfits and heads to the small washroom, leaving him to stew in guilt.
The pain in his gut has dwindled to spikes of discomfort that not even Lumine’s warm compress can obliterate. His stomach feels tender, however, and he fears that one wrong move will send him retching again. Not that there’s anything left for him to hurl out but still…
Lumine returns, all cleaned up. The miffed look on her face has all but faded away, replaced by pity . She sits down beside him and places a hand on his forehead. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” he croaks.
“I’m sorry for overreacting.” She lowers her hand to her lap, biting her lip. “All this worrying is new to me and —”
“It’s fine,” he promises. “We’re both new to this . We can learn together. I’m sorry for worrying you too.”
Again, she lapses into silence as she finally eases herself down on the bed, casually wrapping an arm around his waist. “You’re right. Sorry.”
He kisses her forehead reassuringly. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll take a break tomorrow, hm? I mean, I know I promised that I’d tag along on that trip to Wolvendom but I don’t think my stomach will agree anyway.”
Her little hum of approval is quite cute. “You do need to rest. I’ll be back soon, anyway. Just make sure you behave — no setting the kitchen on fire.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Maybe he can check on Andrius at a later time. Tomorrow he’ll keep his head low, rest, and work on his new song.
Kaeya visits him at noon — sent by Lumine herself, or so the wind says.
The Knight arrives with a cold breeze, bringing an assortment of apples, chicken mushroom skewers, and even a glass of dandelion wine. “Lunch, courtesy of your lover ,” he says with a playful purr.
“Thank you.” Venti watches him set the food down with a smile. The boredom is overpowering him, though he’s made good progress on his song. “Have you eaten already, Captain?”
“Unfortunately. There’s more to my day than being an errand boy, you know.” There’s no hidden malice in Kaeya’s words — just a pure statement of fact hidden under a playful jibe. “But now I’ve run out of things to do, so I can keep you company if you want, Lord Barbatos.”
“Just Venti will do.” The bard hops to his feet and strides to one of the half-full shelves. With a happy little hum, he picks out a chess board and waves it around. “Do you play chess? I was hoping you can teach me a trick or two.”
“Not bad,” Kaeya says as he rearranges the pieces on the board after their seventh game. “Unorthodox, but your strategies work. At this rate, I don’t have anything to teach you after all.”
“It’s all a matter of figuring out what pieces you value the most.” Venti smiles and makes his first move again. “So, did you find the information you need from me?”
The cavalry captain’s smile segues into a playful smirk. “I’d rather keep my cards close.”
Venti takes that as a no . Despite his earlier misgivings, he’s starting to like this man. “That would make two of us, then.”
The smirk inexplicably deepens as Kaeya regards him with a sparkle in his visible eye. “Keeping your cards close except when in the throes of passion, I see.”
Throes of passion . Cheeks burning, Venti averts his gaze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on now, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. We hear worse things every now and then while on patrol.”
“Yes, well —”
Kaeya laughs at the flustered look on the Archon’s face. At least someone ’s having fun. “Speaking of patrol, I’m currently in the middle of organizing a small party for Jean — you know, to show the Knights’ appreciation for her hard work. I was hoping you could help us.”
“A party for Master Jean?” Though still flustered, Venti lights up at that. He’s seen the effort the Dandelion Knight has put forward to keep Mondstadt as peaceful as it is now. “Of course I’m in.”
It’s late afternoon when Kaeya finally leaves to get on with his plotting. The silence that replaces his presence feels suddenly oppressive to Venti. Though he still hasn’t quite figured the captain out completely, he does enjoy the man’s company. There’s still a lot to learn from each other, he knows.
Sighing the pang of loneliness away, he turns back to his unfinished song, only to freeze as the air shifts around him. A cold sense of dread tingles down his spine, far from the companionable coolness that Kaeya brought with him. He strains his ears to listen to the wind.
It warns him of danger in Wolvendom.
Troubled winds fly fastest. He makes it to the hallowed woods mere minutes after leaping through the bedroom window.
“I can’t believe you would help wolves plot against humans! They throw you some scraps and you treat them like kin? Have you forgotten what you are?”
“Enough!”
“Yeah! You can't talk about Razor like that!”
“You didn’t even hear what we had to say!”
Assuming his mortal form under the cover of the trees, Venti closes off the distance with a sprint. With a sigh, he his place between the hunters of Springvale and Wolvendom’s pack, led by a young man flanked by Lumine, Paimon, and Amber. He summons a wall of wind to keep the two factions apart. “What’s going on? Why do you spit threats right in one of the Four Winds’ lawn?” His eyes flick to Hopkins the Marvelous, the village’s local scammer .
He knows the answer, of course — the wind never lies — but he’d rather hear it from the people involved himself. He feels the beginnings of an icy wind blowing at his feet. He stirs, it seems.
“These mutts attacked me,” Hopkins snarls. “These Favonius lot don’t understand that we deal with things differently here.”
“We didn't attack village! Not us!” the boy accompanying the Knights insists. “A black wolf and his pack, not from here. They try to take over land. They broke the code .”
Venti frowns, mulling over the words. The boy’s words ring true. “Strange wolves? Does Andrius know?”
“What are you talking about, boy ?” Another hunter, Jotun, asks. He draws his hunting knife. “Put your barrier down if you know what’s best for you.”
“Put your weapon down!” Lumine yells, drawing her own sword.
Fractals of ice dance among the wind barrier as an old friend’s presence stirs. “What is this disturbance to which I awaken? This is no offering to Boreas. Not only do you come for my kind, so too do you fail to recognize your own transgression against Barbatos himself!”
Andrius stirs from the depths of his shrine, emerging as a spirit of ice and frost to take his place beeside Venti. His wrath seeps through the spectator’s bones.
Grinning, Venti unfurls his wings in their full glory, enjoying the look of pure horror on the hunters’ faces. He knows he shouldn’t relish this — it’s a tyrant’s high — and yet these humans must learn their lesson . It is high time that the people of Springvale learned how to listen to the voices of other people aside from their own, whether human or not.
True freedom cannot be achieved if one shackles themselves to the sound of their own voice.
“The wolves and their lupical have spoken true,” he proclaims. “The wolves here caused — and never meant — any harm.”
“But Lord Barbatos —” another hunter begins.
Amber casually nocks an arrow. “Are you questioning our Archon’s infinite wisdom?”
Silver-tongued Hopkins butts in yet again. “No, of course. But maybe he’s mistaken .”
“There is no mistake,” Andrius roars. “Now leave.”
Venti grins and crosses his arms. “I suggest you listen to Andrius here. The Wolf of the North’s rage is something to be feared.” A strong wind whips around him, threatening to lash out at the slightest offense.
“Of course, Lord Barbatos,” Hopkins all but squeaks.
The hunters disperse, doubt and anger still clouding their minds. They have a long way to go before they’ll truly learn, but progress is progress.
A tired sigh escapes Venti’s lips as he turns to Andrius. “Hello, old friend.”
“So it’s true — you have returned,” the wolf notes dryly. “Dvalin was here recently to bring me news. I doubted him at first, for he has caused quite some trouble in your lands.”
“All is well with him now. I just needed some help from a few dear friends of mine and Lumine here.” Venti grins as the wolf turns his eye on the Starlit Knight.
Lumine exchanges glances with Razor and Amber, who give her encouraging nods. “Greetings, Andrius.”
A strange glint lights up the wolf’s eyes as he sniffs her outstretched hand. “After all this time, you finally find yourself a mate?”
“Yes, well, it’s a long story.” Venti chuckles nervously. “And thank you, Andrius, for not attacking them on sight. You saved us from unwilling bloodshed here.”
“I still have no love for humans, but I chose to follow your will. None shall be harmed as long as they respect our lands and our ways.”
“No love for humans, eh?” Venti turns to Lumine and Amber. “And yet you named them lupical just now.”
Andrius huffs, stubborn as ever. “Your mate is no human. Besides, their nobility stands out against the rest. They may train with me whenever they wish.”
“And this boy here?” Venti turns to the young man with flowing silver hair.
“I am Razor. I am… family. You are Barbatos? Friend?”
“A friend, yes.” Venti smiles. For all of his friend’s harsh words, his true nature still shines through. “So you raised him as another of your own, Andrius?”
“Our agreement stands. I shall take care of the lost ones.” Andrius huffs. “But the time for him to know his people soon enough. Soon, I must test his steel claw against mine.”
Razor flushes. “But black wolf! I must help —”
“They will reap what they have sown. But Razor – you must not get involved. This is for the wolves to settle between themselves. You fight not with claws, but with the sword. You strike not with teeth, but with lightning for you are human.”
“I’m not like them! I don’t belong. I’m not city human, but also not wolf.”
The words prove that the lad, indeed, is more human than Venti. Does he not feel the wish to belong? To be part of a bigger whole rather than wander around like a lone wisp in the sky?
What is the measure of a human being, anyway?
“You’re more human than you think you are,” the Archon whispers, head bowed. “Do not fear — you have friends here to guide you, once time has come.”
Lumine nods, nudging amber. “That’s right! We’re friends now.”
“Once you’re ready, you can come to the city for a few days.” Amber takes the boy’s hand with a smile. “I’ll show you around and introduce you to my other friends! We’ll look for that red burny girl of yours too, okay?”
Razor watches them with inscrutable eyes, his thoughts buried too deep for the wind to peruse. “Thank you.”
Venti stands side by side with Andrius at the edge of the ancient temple as Razor spars with the women. It’s been a while since he’s visited, and it feels him with guilt. “I’ll be checking on you and your people more frequently from now on — just to see how you’re doing.”
Andrius lets out a barking chuckle. “A more active god now, are we?”
It reminds Venti of the feeling of satisfaction at the sight of the terrified hunters. It disgusts him, the realization that he does have the capacity to relish in others’ pain. It scares him. “No. I still don’t want to rule. I’m just here to protect everyone so you can keep enjoying the peace and freedom I promised my people. I’ve failed everyone too many times.”
“Dvalin doesn’t think that you have failed,” Andrius notes.
“Dvalin is too kind .” Venti closes his eyes, thinking of the nobles from a thousand years ago, and the Abyss Order that enslaved Dvalin to terrorize his own people. They could have been prevented, had he been a more steadfast guardian.
“Either way, you’ve changed. You seem more human now.” So Andrius is as sharp as ever. He has truly earned his position as one of the Four Winds. “I hope you do not take it as an offense.”
An offense? Venti laughs. “No. It’s the highest praise, coming from you.” There’s still much to learn about humanity, but maybe, just maybe, he’s finally taking the right steps.
He sits on the palm of his statue’s hand again, watching the people below flock to another bard. How long has it been since he’s last sang for the people as another minstrel with not a care in the world?
“Do you think he’ll be okay? Razor?” Lumine asks, placing an apple on his lap.
He leaves the apple as it is and takes her hand instead, leaving a lingering kiss on its back. “There’s a long and difficult road ahead of him, but I believe that he will prevail. Amber will hold on to her promise, that much I can see.”
She nods thoughtfully. “So Andrius, he’s one of the Four Winds?”
“Yes. He’s responsible for protecting the lost and abandoned. Should the need arise, he can also rouse his pack to defend Mondstadt. They’re not much use against a foe like Dvalin, but they’ve kept the land safe in their own way for centuries.”
“He says he hates humans.”
He laughs, remembering the day he had ascended to godhood instead of the wolf. “Once upon a time, that was the case. Now, I believe, he loves humans in his own way. Maybe he’s starting to see that they’re special too.” The power surging through his entire being had terrified it, then. Sometimes, he still fears it.
She looks at him with so much affection in her eyes that he feels close to combusting. “You’ve always seen them that way, didn’t you?”
“When I decided to get close enough to know what they’re like, yes.” He waves to a child watching them from below. “I loved them enough to walk among them and live as I think they would.”
“Then I’m proud to be your disciple ,” Lumine tells him with a grin. “Few immortals would ever think of humans as more than their pawns. Your heart is in the right place.”
“No, yours is. ” He tucks some of her hair behind her ear so he can sneak in a kiss. “For helping a god and his people save themselves.”
He doesn’t remember when he’s stopped living the way he thinks his dear friend — the old Venti — would have. He didn’t even realize just how much he’s changed and started living for himself and his own beliefs if Andrius hadn’t pointed it out. But now that he knows, he feels a weight lifting from his shoulders.
To laugh and weep with people who accepts him for who he is, to live and love and feel, to fight for those that he holds dear — he’s starting to truly understand, isn’t he?