Chapter Text
The life of a God was a lonely one.
Barbatos have known of this all along. A certain bard had spoken to him about this loneliness Gods must feel during the time when he was nothing but a small wisp of the wind, a simple elemental being. "I can't imagine how painful that must be," the bard spoke as his lithe fingers strummed on his lyre. "To see everyone grow old and die while you stay the same." the boy continued then laughed and added maybe this was why Decarabian was the way he was. Barbatos didn't understand what he was referring to for surely other immortals exist and lived as long as the Gods that ruled the land. To this, the bard simply smiled and said that sometimes a God finds true friends not in the form of his fellow Gods but in humans that walked alongside them.
As he spoke of those words, Barbatos understood what he was referring to even for a little bit.
Yet the moment when he finally fully understood the meaning of that sentence, it was during one of the most painful memories of his.
The bard had great wishes he sought, not just for himself but all for those who lived under Decarabian's harsh rule. He sought to see the wall of storm disappear, to see the blue sky beyond those dark grey clouds, to see the birds fly, to finally feel free and not be shackled by the storm that he had known since he was small.
And so with these wishes, the bard gathered up the people of Mondstadt and revolted against the tyrant, God of Storms.
The battle was a harsh one. Both sides fought to the best of their abilities but in the end, it was the people behind the revolt that won. Decarabian fell and so did his walls of storm. But the prize of freedom was an expensive one.
Many of their friends had their lives taken in exchange for that freedom they longed for dearly.
One of them was his beloved bard.
"Is it the end...?" Barbatos remembered how the little bard struggled to even utter those words. He lied weakly in the arms of their friend, his hand reaching out for Barbatos to take. The little elemental being didn't hesitate and snuggled himself in his friend's palm, wanting to feel his warmth even for the last time. He answered "Yes," his heart breaking as his dear bard smiled weakly. "It's a shame... I don't think I'm ever gonna see the blue sky..." the bard lamented but despite his words, he looked content.
"Even so, I'm so happy..." he murmured. "The birds can finally fly wherever they wish to go and you... You'll finally see the world." The bard said those words softly, his thumb weakly caressing Barbatos' cheek. "It... might not be with me..." he struggled to say, coughing up blood with each attempt to stay alive. "But... Barbatos, just knowing that you're going to see the sights I couldn't... is enough for me..."
"Fly, fly, away," He sang. "Like the birds in the sky. See the world on my behalf... To the heavens... may you fly..."
The bard finally breathed his last air, his hand falling weakly to his side. And although the wind cried softly as it caressed his dead body, the contented smile remained on his face.
Shortly after, Barbatos took the form of his beloved bard. It was an act of remembrance for his departed friend. He wore his favorite flower on his head and left the ruling of the new Mondstadt to its people. It was a bold move for an Archon but to Barbatos, this was the best course of action.
He did not care if it was going to make him the weakest among the seven because to him, a freedom demanded by a God was not true freedom at all. The people of Mondstadt were going to spread their wings and ride the wind in whichever way they want to. He was not going to interfere with their affairs unless another tyrant was born and attempted to steal the freedom he and his friends fought so hard for. Barbatos didn't wish and cared for power. He did not care if he was going to be the laughing stock of his fellow Archons because what mattered the most was for his people to live happily in a place under the blue sky that devoid of that harsh wall of storm.
And so Mondstadt began life anew.
Barbatos, despite his promise to his friend, stayed to watch his people build the new city. He decided to stay until Mondstadt could find a sturdy footing because he felt like he owed them that at least.
The God felt his heart fill with warmth while he watched his friends lead his people to a better future.
They were building the city in the way his dearly departed bard would love to live in. The streets were full of music, everyone always had bright smiles plastered on their faces, the food and wine tasted great, and he could tell that every last one of them was happy to be a part of this small humble nation. To Barbatos, these sights outweigh any power he could have if he were to rule over them.
But alas, the time for his departure finally came.
His old friends, dear to his heart they may be, were mere mortals. Their lives were shorter than his and he watched them breathe their last until only one remained.
It was during the dead of the night that he visited his sole surviving friend. He made sure that the servants of the household had retreated back to their quarters before entering the open balcony doors of his friend's room. He almost didn't get close upon seeing the state of his old friend.
Time had eaten away his youth. His once fiery red hair was now replaced with grey hair. His strong hands that held and swung the claymore with all its might had withered, the muscles gone and all that's left was nothing but skin and bone. His closed eyes had sunken and his chest rose and fell with long deep breaths.
This was not the first time seeing a friend so weak and near to death, yet it never gets better.
"Is that you, Lord Barbatos?" his train of thoughts was interrupted by a weak voice. His old friend has now opened his eyes and was eyeing him solemnly. Weakly, the old man smiled. "I was right to not fall asleep early. I was hoping you'd come visit tonight." He raised his hand and beckoned the young God to come closer.
Barbatos didn't waste any more time and took his friend's hand and sat in an empty space in his spacious bed. "I've always liked this form of yours." The old man commented about his Archon form that Barbatos always chooses to appear in every time he's visiting a dying friend. "It reminds me that you're not just a thief who always steals my wine back in the day."
At this, Barbatos couldn't help but laugh. "Well, I wouldn't have stolen them if you just gave me some." He retorted with a smile, something of which earned him a weak laugh from the old man.
"You've always been a handful, do you know that?" He started. "You're always running around playing pranks on people. Always drinking more than you could take... I remember the times when you would suddenly appear out of nowhere and jump on my back..." he paused and inhaled deeply. "It was easy to forget that you're a God... but I guess that in itself was a good thing."
Barbatos softly smiled and held his friend's hand with both of his. "Normally, people would think otherwise," he said.
"Normally, yes." His friend grinned. "But the people of Mondstadt are not normal to begin with. Not me, at least. Or you..."
The words would've sounded like an insult if it wasn't for how it was spoken with pure and unadulterated fondness. And Barbatos felt his heart clench painfully because he knew that the time to say goodbye was nearing. He held his tears in as his friend took deeper breaths to force in more oxygen into his system.
"Lord Barbatos," The old man began again after a moment of silence. "Mondstadt loves you." He told the young God. "We will never forget and take for granted the freedom you fought hard to give to us. I'm sure my son would continue to protect it, and so will those who will come after him."
The grip he had on his friend tightened and Barbatos had to look away in fear that the tears would fall. "You fought for that freedom too, you know..." Oh, how he hated when his voice cracked as he said those words.
But the old man didn't point this out and simply shook his head. "We wouldn't have won without your aid. The people of Mondstadt wouldn't be smiling if it wasn't for you and I---" his words were cut off when a sudden fit of coughing shook the old man's chest. It put Barbatos in a state of panic and he was about to rush out to call a servant when his friend stopped him. "There's no need," he told the God. Barbatos was about to argue when the old man chuckled and placed his hand on the God's cheek.
"Listen to me," he said. "Carefree as you may be, I know that that heart of yours still holds some doubts. Life as a God is not easy. You're going to face many obstacles in life, you're going to meet more people, some of which might try to bring you down. You will see more places. You will reach far with those wings of yours. That doubt will not disappear immediately but always remember this, Lord Barbatos..."
The old man took a deep breath and flashed a smile that finally made the tears fall. "Mondstadt could not ask for a better God." he told him. "Your people love you and I'm sure they will continue to do so even if a millennium would pass."
Barbatos said his friend's name as tears rapidly fell on his cheeks. "Spread your wings, My Lord, just like how he wanted you to. Just like how we all want you to."
He couldn't form any coherent words in his state so he simply nodded. The old man looked satisfied at his response and closed his eyes. "My apologies..." he stated weakly. "It seems like I've become extremely tired... I don't think I can keep my eyes open." The young God's tears fell even more rapidly at that statement.
"If it's not too much..." the old man paused and took a deep breath. "Can I ask you to sing to me until I fall asleep?"
Barbatos swallowed thickly and said a soft "Of course." at his old friend's request. The old man let his hand fall on his chest as the God chose to lie down on his side, his head resting on the pillow next to the old man and his hand falling on top of the others' bigger one.
In the quiet of the night, the young God sang of the birds that were once trapped in a cage of storm. He sang of how they fought for their freedom, of how it felt like to attain it and finally soar the blue sky above. He sang until his friend finally took his last breath and died in his arms. Barbatos let the tears fall, the soft blowing wind the only witness to his silent cries.
He gave his friend one last kiss on the forehead, one last goodbye, before finally spreading his wings and leaving.
Barbatos felt like--no, he knew it was finally the time to fulfill his promise to his beloved bard now that the last remnant of that past had finally departed.
The God didn’t leave Mondstadt immediately. Instead, he took the wine he’s been saving for a long time and flew on top of Stone Gate where a sea of dandelions existed.
His wings didn't disrupt the fragile flowers around him as he made his way toward a big rock where he could sit down and wait for the sun to rise. It was still early morning and Barbatos knew that he would be sitting there for a long time. But he felt like he needed to do this in honor of those who had departed before him.
He poured some of the wine on the wooden cup he brought alongside it. The God didn’t take a sip, he watched his reflection onto its red liquid, smiled melancholically before drinking all of the contents in one go. Barbatos felt a single tear fall and he could only laugh because he thought he had cried enough.
“The life of a God is a lonely one,” he murmured as he looked up on the starry sky. “It seems like you were right. As always…”
All around him the dandelions swayed gently along the breeze. Barbatos reminisced about the past, about those days when he would sit here with his friends and they would drink wine and sing until the sun started to rise. His heart ached knowing that he was never going to see that sight again.
He was not a fool. Barbatos was well aware that he was going to meet more people in his journey, that there were going to be others who will drink with him, who will listen to his songs and berate him like his old friends did, but the young God knew that it was not going to be the same. Barbatos knew that there was no one out there who could ever replace the place his dear old friends held in his heart.
Inhaling a deep breath, he took a dandelion in his hand and scattered it in the wind.
There was a silent prayer, a silent wish, that accompanied it and Barbatos was sure that the wind would deliver them even if the destination was heaven itself.
Finally, he smiled. He manifested his lyer in his hand and started to sing of the long bygone days. Of the days he spent with a certain bard and the songs he sang. Of a friend with red hair and cold demeanor. Of a blonde knight whose diligence surpassed everyone he knew. He sang in a happy tune and even if it was just a fragment of his imagination, he could feel the presence of his friends around him. He could imagine their smiles, their laughter, their warm embraces, and Barbatos, hurt as he may be, knew that he was going to be alright.
Perhaps not right away because the cut in his heart was deep, but he knew that one day the wound was going to heal.
Nothing was permanent. The wind was ever changing. With each year that passes, he will grow wiser and the wind blowing through Mondstadt is going to grow stronger. And maybe by the time he comes back from his long journey, it will fully turn into a nation that anyone whose heart was as free as the wind would love to live in.
Barbatos smiled at the thought.
Yet that smile quickly fell when he heard a footstep coming from behind him accompanied by the scattering of the dandelions.
He summoned the power of anemo and was about to attack the intruder when his aqua eyes locked in with golden ones. Barbatos was so caught off guard that he lost his footing and slipped backward on the bed of dandelions.
“Ouch,” he groaned and rubbed a hand on his injured head. “What in the world---”
“My apologies, Lord Barbatos.” A deep voice cut his words off which was then followed by a hand helping him get back to his footing. “Startling you was not my intention. It just happen that I---”
This time, it was the Anemo Archon who did not let the invasive gentleman speak. With an exclaim, Barbatos stared at the trail the other man created when he made his way to him. It created an ugly cut in the midst of a supposedly beautiful sea of undisturbed dandelions. “You ruined it.” He spoke in a way a child would when his toy got destroyed, albeit unintentionally.
A flash of guilt crossed through the handsome gentleman’s face. Even if he didn’t voice it out, anyone could see how he was thinking of how to fix whatever this mess he had made.
Meanwhile, Barbatos merely sighed and scratched the top of his head.
His heart was still beating hard in his chest, all thanks to the sight of the Geo Archon in this dead of the night. If he were a different God, he would've thought that this was an act of invasion but Barbatos knew better.
Although he and Morax had never spoken before save for that stuffy formal meeting of the seven Archons, the older didn’t give him the impression of someone who would attack out of nowhere. In addition to that, unlike him, Liyue’s God was not in his Archon form. He was dressed like a son of a wealthy family out on a midnight stroll.
And he wouldn’t be apologizing this much if his intention was to invade Mondstadt.
“I truly am sorry, Lord Barbatos.” The gentleman repeated his earlier words. “Tell me, is there anything that I could do to make it up to you?”
On a normal occasion, he would’ve grinned in a suspicious manner and would repeat the word “anything?” before demanding that he give him his best wines. But his heart was still grieving and he didn’t feel like asking for something.
“It’s fine,” he merely said and bent down to reach the wine bottle that had fallen to the ground. He was glad he remembered to screw it shut or else he wouldn’t be drinking anything when the sunrise finally comes. “What brought you here, Lord Morax?”
Morax seemed to deeply think of his question. His golden eyes blinked slowly until finally, he avoided Barbatos’ gaze and opted to observe the dandelions around them.
“Your singing…” he started, then there seemed to be a part of him that told him not to continue whatever it was that he was going to say. “It seemed like I mistook you for someone else…”
The answer was not something he was expecting. Nor did he also expect the flash of sadness he saw in those golden eyes. Barbatos would’ve pried for an answer but that would go against his principles of freedom. So instead, he merely muttered a short “I see,” before asking the Geo Archon if he would like to drink some wine.
“I’m afraid we’re going to have to share a cup,” he said as he took his previous position on the rock. “But if you don’t mind, I assure you this is going to be the best wine you’ve ever tasted.” With a grin on his face, he offered the wooden cup to the perplexed God.
Barbatos assumed that Morax was not used to such an informal gesture coming from a fellow Archon, hence that reaction. But nonetheless, he felt a certain sense of happiness when the older took the cup from his hand and sat right in front of him. He wordlessly poured the wine onto the cup and waited in anticipation to any reaction coming from the other man.
When his face lit up and complemented the drink, Barbatos was filled with pride.
“What did I tell you?” he grinned wide and poured himself a cup.
He downed the drink in one go and exhaled loudly, not caring if it was unbecoming of a God to do so. Barbatos proudly stated that this taste was native to Mondstadt and doubted that any other wine could compare. Morax didn’t try to counter him, he simply sat there and observed the younger god who continued to laugh.
Barbatos’ laughter echoed in the dead of the night. The young God laughed until tears started to form in the corner of his eyes. He laughed for no particular reason save for how he was masking the hurt that continued to tear his heart down. He thought that the sudden intrusion of the neighbouring Archon would distract him from the pain he was feeling but he guessed he was wrong.
He wanted to ask the older God how he was able to do it. How to make the feeling go away quicker, to make everything stop hurting. He was older and wiser, for sure he would know, right?
But deep down inside, Barbatos knew the answer all along.
“You look lonely, Lord Barbatos.” Morax finally spoke after Barbatos had finally stopped laughing and had fallen silent.
The younger couldn’t help but smile sadly at the statement, especially when remembering the flash of emotion he saw in those golden eyes earlier. “You don’t look quite happy yourself, Lord Morax.” He countered which earned him a smile that mirrored his.
“Indeed,” was all that the elder could say. Barbatos didn’t add anything more and simply poured in another cup for the Geo Archon.
There was a comfortable silence that enveloped them as they continued to drink into the night. The breeze was warm and it swayed the dandelions gently while the two Archons enjoyed the peace that surrounded them. This was a moment they never thought they would exchange, not even in a million years. Whether this was the start of an unlikely friendship, both of them don’t really want to think about it. They want to savour the moment for what it was; a coincidental meeting of two lonely Gods. Something of which they both needed, even if they don’t admit it.
It was when the sky was slowly turning into a rosy pink of color that the both of them finally stopped drinking. They have devoured most of the content of the bottle and Barbatos, knowing he shouldn’t drink more in preparation for his departure, opted to play his lyre while they waited for the sun.
“What strange flowers these are,” Morax’s deep voice cut through the peace of the morning. “So airy and delicate. They disperse with the tiniest touch.” The older god murmured as he took a stem and observed it closer.
Smiling, Barbatos continued to play his instrument. “They’re called dandelions,” he informed. “My people believe that they help the wind carry prayers and wishes. The destination does not matter. No matter how far, even if it’s heaven itself, with the aid of the wind, the dandelions will surely deliver them.”
Morax diverted his golden eyes from the God to the flower in his hand. Although Barbatos couldn’t exactly read the full extent of what he was thinking, he could tell that little story had intrigued the Geo Archon. “Is that true?” he softly asked, his tone hopeful.
“Why don’t you give it a try, Lord Morax?” was Barbatos’ response.
There was that melancholic expression again and this time it lasted longer than it did earlier. Morax quietly closed his eyes and whispered his wishes to the dandelions. His words didn’t reach Barbatos’ ears, he made sure that was the case for he knew this wish was not for him to hear. When the older god finally opened his eyes, he blew the flower so that it would flutter to the sky.
The sun was slowly ascending and was painting this part of Teyvat with peach and orange hues.
“It’s going to reach them,” Barbatos assured Morax. His eyes were set on the horizon. “The wind will make sure of it.”
This earned him a smile from his companion. “I sure hope so,”
Barbatos would leave shortly after that. Morax would not ask him where his destination was. No explanation was given and both of them did not mind that it was the case. Morax would simply sit in his spot and watch the Anemo Archon spread his wings and fly into the sky. Barbatos didn’t look back because he was afraid that the sight of the dandelion sea would pull him hard enough and make him stay.
The only thing he hoped was that the next time he sees the dandelions again, the pain in his chest has finally subsided. And maybe, just maybe, he could share a bottle of wine again with his newfound friend when that time finally comes.
"Sometimes even the lissome wind grows heavy in its grief... But not that mortals could ever see a moment oh so brief."
- The boy and the Whirlwind