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As a mortal, Ganyu thought that it was nice to travel around. Liyue was a beautiful place, after all, and she felt kinship with her human brethren whenever she heard desires of exploration and travel expressed out loud.
It gave a sense of comfort to her to know that, deep down inside, she and all of her human companions were linked through their mutual appreciation of and for Liyue’s beauty.
As an adeptus, Ganyu really wished mortals would respect boundaries. The last thing she wanted to be doing was alerting Mooncarver of a strange, musical man lurking within the heart of Jueyun Karst.
Normally, she would be on top of such an intruder in an instant; such flagrant disregard for the sanctity of the adepti’s abode warranted physical action, which Ganyu was prepared to dish out without hesitation.
But now, with the line between the mortal and immortal realms blurred, Ganyu felt it more appropriate to alert someone with higher authority, lest she risk breaking the new contract.
(After all, how much would she be protecting the citizens of Liyue if she were to go and physically harm one of them?)
Oh, if only Rex Lapis hadn’t passed so suddenly, then she’d not have to deal with this annoying cloud of doubt hovering over her psyche.
And so, Ganyu found herself before Mooncarver, prepared to announce her findings to him, when he greeted her with a sigh of his own, eyes downcast in exasperation.
“One assumes to have heard it too, then?” He asks, voice low; his eyes are steadfastly focused on Ganyu, but she knows his attention lies elsewhere in the way his ears are twitching around, picking up any sign of their musical trespasser. “It has been long since one has heard the tune of his lyre. One does not wish to impede on… whatever he is here for, but one cannot stand idly by watching the bees, allowing a single worker and not the entire nest.”
Ganyu knows what he is saying; as much as he wants to let this intruder stay, he can’t because of age-old hypocrisy that separates the enlightened realm of the adepti from the mortal realm… at least, she hopes that’s what he means.
She’s turning away, about to set out to find the source of such elegant melody she heard earlier, when she is interrupted by her companion.
“Perhaps it would do one best,” Mooncarver’s voice cuts through the air again, and Ganyu turns, meeting the stag’s cold gaze once more. Mooncarver seemed to sigh, a hoof scraping harshly against the ground. The massive stag flicks his ears once more, continuing, “No. Nevermind. One must continue on. Find the bard and tell him one wishes him well, but that he must be leaving.”
A bard… that explains the music. Ganyu nods, turning away from Mooncarver and setting out to find the source of the music.
She does not take long, quickly locating the melodious intruder lazily swinging his legs over the side of a peak. He looks almost like a child, Ganyu thinks, walking swiftly to apprehend him before he can cause any more trouble to the adepti. As Ganyu gets close, he turns, black hair kicked up by a harsh wind; when their eyes meet, Ganyu can see something hidden behind a mischievous glint swirling among emerald hues.
“You must be one of the adepti!” He exclaims loudly, eyes widening; Ganyu hadn’t even been able to get out a “halt” before he spoke. “I have to say, I always thought you guys were way more shy.”
“What?”
Ganyu starts as he suddenly stands, and she takes a step back; he is incredibly small, she notes, but there is definitely something… off about him. From his smile to his oddly shimmering eyes, Ganyu can’t pinpoint what exactly it is until a breeze seemingly enters from nowhere, bringing with it the scent of unfamiliar flowers and the salt of the sea.
She now knows. This is the Anemo Archon, Barbatos… lovingly known as Venti.
(She uses the term “lovingly” lightly; he certainly isn’t very loved right now when he is impeding on the adepti’s privacy.)
“Why are you here?”
Venti smiles.
She watches closely as he retrieves a flower from somewhere under his cloak; it’s a qingxin, dainty and white, fitting perfectly in his slim hand. He twirls it around lovingly, verdant eyes full of fondness.
“Well, you see,” he begins, a sigh escaping the smile on his face, “It’s for an anniversary.”
“Anniversary?”
“Of sorts!” his black hair waves in the wind as he closes his eyes, playing up his innocence as he twirls the flower in his hand. “My… er, a close friend of mine happens to love these flowers. Since it’s such a special occasion,” those sparkling emerald orbs are back, crinkling at the edges, pupils laced with a certain manic fervor, “I thought I’d take initiative and go flower picking.”
Ganyu can’t believe this man; he can’t be serious.
Flower picking. In Jueyun Karst .
“Qingxins grow all throughout Liyue,” Ganyu explains without a hint of hesitation, voice betraying nothing except annoyance, “You cannot be here. The old contract may be dead, but you still have no right to intrude on the home of the adepti!”
“You’re wrong again, and it’s quite stressing,” the bard retorts, a playful hint to his tone, “I arrive with an adeptus’ blessing!”
(Was it just Ganyu, or was this bard actually rhyming his sentences?)
“Then tell me,” Ganyu starts, eyes beginning to furrow at the sheer audacity of this bard, “who allows you to be among the sacred stone forest of Jueyun Karst?”
Venti is silent.
Ganyu watches as a certain misty haze graces over Venti’s emerald eyes; he’s looking away from her now, qingxin still in his hand. She watches as he brings the pale bloom to his nose, inhaling it’s delicate scent, a warm smile spreading across his features.
“Have you ever been in love, Ganyu?”
His question is spoken softly, full of indescribable emotion, and Ganyu finds her shoulders stiffening as a strange aromatic breeze whisks around them. It’s that smell, that strange flowery scent mixed with salt and wind and—
And when she blinks, Venti is gone.
She doesn’t realize her mouth is open in shock until she closes it.
As she leaves the area, that strange, floral aroma still on her nose, she realizes she never told the bard her name.
“One can see success in finding the bard. One only hopes ease in imparting understanding upon his soul, so he may not return to Jueyun Karst uninvited.” Mooncarver’s voice is laced with a sense of relief as Ganyu approaches, looking slightly puzzled after her meeting with Venti. Mooncarver stands tall and proud between the trees, ignoring the twinkling bells from the sigils hanging around them. Ganyu can vaguely recall the smell of unfamiliar blooms on the breeze.
She looks up at Mooncarver, a question on the tip of her tongue.
But, before she can get it out, the stag continues, “One understands his desire to be here, yet one must be able to protect the land upon which one resides.”
“He said he was here with an adeptus’ blessing,” Ganyu speaks quietly, choosing to look anywhere except the stag’s eyes; she can see his ears flick out of the corner of her eye, head lowering so he is more level with her, “he… asked me if I’ve ever been in love.”
As she turns to face him, Mooncarver blinks; it’s a slow blink, a blink where Ganyu can practically see the cogs turning in his head, the exasperated sigh rising in his throat. She knows he’s choosing his words carefully, the reason why lost to her.
“One is aware,” he begins, Ganyu’s eyes widening. “Yet one knows that which he seeks cannot be found among Jueyun Karst. A promise of flowers is what one has been told, yet one can see a flower is not what he seeks.”
“Then why is he here?”
Mooncarver is silent. Ganyu steps aside quickly as the stag pushes past her, head raised to the sky. He turns, and Ganyu follows his gaze past the peaks of Jueyun Karst, to where she knows lies the massive stone arches of the Stone Gate.
“One can assume the cries of the heart have drawn him here,” Mooncarver sighs, ear twitching, “a blessing given allows his presence, yet one knows where its giver has gone.”
Ganyu is silent in her confusion. She turns to Mooncarver, yet her confusion only intensifies as the stag begins trudging away. She calls out to him, “Wait! Mooncarver, I still don’t know why he—“
“One is aware one is smart,” Mooncarver interrupts, stopping in his path yet not turning to face her. “One must be able to reason why a bard would be allowed in Jueyun Karst without being thrown out. One must understand how he got in originally to understand where he must go.”
Ganyu watches Mooncarver leave and knows that she has absolutely no idea what he’s trying to imply.
She shakes her head in frustration, annoyed at her slight incompetence; not only had Venti gotten in somehow, but no one had even registered his presence until the winds carried the sounds of his lyre to their puzzled ears.
Archons, she isn’t good at this; she should just turn back around, head back to Liyue Harbor, and continue her work for the Qixing and the Qixing only instead of messing around in immortal matters. Xiao would’ve done a much better job of retaining the bard—
Ganyu stops.
And she realizes .
Where the hell is Xiao?