Chapter Text
Sometimes, Barbatos wished he hadn’t fought Durin, even though there was need to. This was the first of those times, with the Archon ruffling his wings and rubbing his eyes. His limbs felt stiff, they probably hadn’t been moved for centuries now. His vision was blurry as they were stabbed by the sudden glow reflecting off white snow. Coughing, he dug himself out of the place he found himself in.
The first thing he felt was cold. The cold bore by snowstorms and blizzards raging like they would at only two places, Snezhnaya or Dragonspine. Barbatos highly doubted that he ended up in Snezhnaya. He remembered fighting Durin, then…… He and Dvalin had won, hadn’t they? He shouldn’t have ended up in Snezhnaya, so it’s a safe bet to say he’s in Dragonspine.
Huh…… It seems as though his power had been even harder to access than before. Barbatos allowed himself a small chuckle. He guessed that’s what he gets for sleeping for…… How long had he slept? It was impossible to tell time from Dragonspine unless it had been long enough to utterly transform the mountain’s landscape.
Barbatos decided to make his way towards Windrise. It was where he’d gather his power whenever he woke up from a century long nap.
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He noticed something alarming as he made his way towards Windrise. He had noticed the occasional mint that he’d crossed path with shrivel up and turn black, or purple in some rare cases. The grass coated with snow didn’t sustain damage the same way, much to Barbatos’ relief. He was thankful that the green grass that led out of Dragonspine and into the warmer parts of Mondstadt didn’t shrivel up either.
Barbatos made sure nobody was around before settling down beneath Vennessa’s tree, his friend’s tree.
The wind on the branches feels good….. He loved the way it smells.
A gentle breeze brushed through the leaves and branches. The scent of the sweet flowers dotted loosely about Windrise strown with the occasional mint. The single Cryo Slime hopping around the lake and elemental monuments littered around the tree. The Anemo Crystalflies flitted around his statue, giving the sunset a beautiful atmosphere.
Barbatos edged closer to his statue, hoping that the power it contained would help restore his own. Then-
The Crystalflies dispersed and scattered. Barbatos stared after them, confused and scared. Crystalflies are known to fly away from mortals, yes, but Barbatos was the Anemo Archon. He remembered letting them rest on his wings, and them dancing to his tunes. Never before had the Anemo Crystalflies fled before him, and yet……
“What…?” Barbatos muttered, eyes trailing after the bright teal butterfly-like creatures fleeing from their archon. He shook his head and tried to ignore the feeling of unease gnawing away at his mind. He liked being by Vennessa’s tree. It gave off something calming that was further amplified with the presence of his Statue standing by. Barbatos knew that the view from at the top of the tree was beautiful.
Something gave way beneath his fingers and Barbatos jerked back, staring at where the branch that he held onto for support was, or rather, once was. Much like the mints that he had passed by, the branch had shriveled up and blackened. He glanced up at the heavens, a forced smile on his lips mixed with the alarm that gathered, “Sorry Vennessa, ehe.”
Thoughts rapidly ran through his head, searching for an explanation of the withering of the wildlife near him. Could it be a coincidence, and it was some other force? Or was it some other force purposefully trailing him? He wasn’t being discreet about his identity being in this form……
Speaking of, it probably wasn’t smart to saunter about with his wings and all, looking like the Anemo Archon. After a quick use of his power in the Gnosis, he now looked like a human bard with dark blue hair that bordered on black fashioned into short, twin braids that faded to a bright cyan. He was clothed in green, with a frilly white top with a corset-like leather midsection and teal shorts paired with white stockings. It has been a while since he had last used this form…… Or so he assumed. He didn’t actually know how long it had been since his slumber. He wouldn’t expect Windrise to look that different given the test of time it had been through close to unscathed.
And that’s why he’s heading to Mondstadt. He felt in the mood for having a nice bottle of Dandelion Wine.
---
The mood in Mondstadt…… Was different to say the least. The wind felt heavy and the air felt far more still than it should’ve been. Barbatos - no, it’s Venti now - elected to push the fact that he might’ve contributed to that in the back of his head in a small chuckle.
“What happened here?” Venti mused. The citizens’ smiles felt a lot less bright than it should’ve been. Is that why he was called to wake? Was there another danger, or perhaps a need of revolution like it had been with the old aristocracy?
A citizen turned. Huh, it seems Venti wasn’t as quiet as he had thought he was.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” The citizen mentioned. A part of Venti wanted to reply that he was in fact born and raised here, being the Anemo Archon, but another part thought better.
“No sir!” Venti replied. He can’t help but note the stall holding fruits behind the man. It reminded him of an apple vendor from back before the Knights of Favonius was even founded. Maybe the citizen was a fruit vendor. Ah, the parallels.
“I-It……” The fruit vendor sighed, “Just a few weeks ago, Mondstadt was under attack from a dragon. The folks called him Stormterror.”
“Stormterror huh,” Venti muttered. At least it wasn’t Durin. He’d have quite a bone to pick with whoever revived the dragon if it was.
“Well, I think most folks don’t like to talk about it. But Stormterror…… Was one of the Four Winds, Dvalin,” The fruit vendor refused to meet Venti’s eyes, choosing to scan over his wares instead. Venti felt himself freeze up. Dvalin…… What? Some part of him had hoped the townsfolk were mistaken. But then again, if they were mistaken…... Surely the Knights of Favonius would’ve cleared up such rumors?
“Things got out of hand,” The fruit vendor winced, “The Knights were forced to…… Ah, forget it. It may be better for a foreigner like you to remain ignorant.”
“The Knights were forced to do what?” Venti found his voice was small and just broken around its edges. Some parts were clawing and begging it wasn’t as he had thought.
“...... Put an end to him-” The fruit vendor might’ve said something more, but Venti’s ear was ringing. Dvalin was…… what ? But that’s- He decided he really needed a drink.
“Ah, excuse me,” The fruit vendor cleared his throat, eyeing a woman approaching him, “I’ll have to deal with Beatrice. She always haggles for prices far too low for my wares.” Venti nodded absently as he found himself wandering the streets, mind as wild as the whirlwinds that once enveloped Old Mondstadt.
The red-haired bartender refused to serve him wine because he looked underage. Venti had forgotten that about his form. Ragnivindr decent, perhaps? He settled with Apple Cider. Better than nothing, and he didn’t feel like performing with his mind still a mess.
“Did you hear? Liyue’s Archon……”
“I heard they actually went through with the rite of passing…… That meant he’s really gone?”
“Hmph, Mondstadt’s god might’ve been absent, but at least he’s still alive.”
“If he’s constantly absent, how can you be sure?”
“Well, a new Anemo Archon hadn’t showed up yet has it now?”
Liyue’s Archon? Rite of Passing? Venti choked on his drink the moment he linked all these together. How long had he been asleep? That Morax was gone? Or perhaps this was another Geo Archon? He woke to the world tipped upside down, and he sure didn’t like it.