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She’s lost and she doesn’t know where she is. She’d only wanted to follow the knights. To be like them. To be like Venessa. She’d been to the great tree with mother so many times and she’d thought she’d known the way. But she hadn’t expected the burgeoning storm or the hilichurls swarming over the hills like locusts descending on a ripe harvest.
She had run and run far- into a foreign wood, the sky darkening overhead and the wind twisting her hair and clothes this way and that. She had always been considered smarter than most children. However, she was fairly sure no one would think that after this incident.
She nibbled on her thumbnail, refusing to feel the fear that swelled in her chest at the groan of the trees and the howl of the wind and the approaching storm. Oh hang it all, she was scared. She buried her head in her knees and concentrated on thinking of a way back home. There had to be ways to get back to Mondstadt. It was north, wasn't it? There was a star she could follow right?
The crunch of leaves brought her head back up, eyes wide, breath catching in her throat. Had the hilichurls returned…?
A head poked around the tree, “Found you!”
She shrieked and hit at the closest part of the stranger to her, which happened to be his nose. He flailed backwards, hands clutching his face, “Ow! That really hurt!”
She froze, terrified, heart pounding her chest, fists clenched as she pushed herself into the fighting stance she had seen Diluc show her that one time last summer. Wide green eyes peeked over hands, voice almost whiny, “That really hurt.”
She blinked, confused, brows furrowing as she studied him a little closer. She felt a little ashamed as she realized she’d hit a person. She managed a confused, “You’re not a hilichurl.”
The boy, for that’s what he was, a boy only a few years older than her, shook his head, “No, I’m sorry, did I startle you?”
She straightened, remembering mother's chiding to mind her manners. Her hands picked nervously at the hem of her skirt as she quickly apologized, “I’m sorry about hitting you, sir! Is your nose okay?”
He waved his hands, “Oh, no! I’m fine! But I feel there’s a more important matter to be addressed here! What’s a little girl like you doing all alone in the whispering woods?”
She crossed her arms, lifting her chin, “What’s a little boy like you doing out here all alone?” After a moment she thought better of it, seeing how he was older than her and added on as an afterthought, “Sir.”
The boy laughed, loud and clear and she blinked, startled. It sounded like wind chimes and bird song and a clear summer sky, “That’s a very good point!” He straightened, stroking his chin thoughtfully, “Well, I asked first. So it’s only fair that you start.”
She eyed him suspiciously, but his logic was sound, “I was going to Venessa’s tree at Windrise. But I…” she shuffled her feet before admitting to the truth, “There were hilichurls and I… I got lost.” (She’d never told a lie before. And she didn’t intend to start now.)
The boy nodded, crouching down, face softening at her predicament, “Oh, I see. Well, I was here to look for you, Jean!”
Jean looked up, eyes wide as he said her name, “Me? But... How do you know my name? I’ve never even seen you before."
He winked, “Oh, you’ve seen me more than you know!”
She huffed, small cheeks puffing outwards as she crossed her arms, “That’s suspicious. Are you in the knights of Favonius?” He didn’t look like he was one of the knights with his lyre on his hip, but one should never be lulled into complacency and judge others based on appearances.
The boy laughed, “Me? A knight? I’m a bard, of course. The best bard in Mondstadt!”
Jean’s eyes narrowed, “Well, I’ve never heard of you before.”
He nodded, “Well, just because I’m the best bard doesn’t mean that I’m known as it. I haven’t been around here in quite some time.” He scratched the back of his head, “In fact, I’m not quite sure how I got here in the first place.” He smiled brightly, “But anyway, Miss Jean! Shall we return to Mondstadt?”
Jean looked hesitantly around at the darkening woods and gusts of wind that tugged her blond curls across her face and seemed to pull at the two braids falling from the bard’s short dark hair, “...Alright. But my mom says not to talk to strangers and also I have a knife and I know how to use it so don’t try anything funny.”
The bard shook his head, “Of course not! Though, it never hurts to be prepared.” He started forward then stopped and turned, “Are you coming? Mondstadt is this way.”
Jean swallowed audibly before following him, twisting her fingers worriedly. She resisted the urge to take the bard's hand, just as her mother had always taken hers when she was scared. But the boy wasn’t her mother and he wouldn’t appreciate it. Something in the forest shuffled and she startled, reaching for his hand on instinct and then stopping the movement quickly. She should be better than this! It was probably just a rabbit or something.
Still, the forest loomed over them eerily, the wind in the trees akin to whispers, making the sweat trail cold down her spine and the hairs on her neck stand up. After the fifth or so time she jumped at the crack of a branch, afraid that it was the hilichurls coming to get them, the bard asked softly, “You know, I’m a bit scared of storms. The wind is alright but the thunder is pretty scary. Could you hold my hand? I would feel a lot better.”
She glanced at him, scrutinizing him carefully for any funny business. Finding nothing but a friendly innocence, she took his hand gratefully, “That’s alright. I don’t like storms either.”
He tapped his chin, watching her scanning the woods, still slightly nervous, “Why were you going to the Great Tree anyway?” She shrugged and the bard hummed, “You mentioned it was Venessa’s tree specifically. You know there aren’t many who call it that anymore.”
Jean nodded, almost bouncing in place, “I want to be like Venessa and be the Lionfang knight when I grow up!”
The bard smiled lopsidedly, “You know, Venessa was also the Dandelion knight too.”
She glanced up at him and the bard nodded, “Oh yes. Not many remember her that way. But she was both of them. You see, it’s important to have the Lionfang knight- a fierce and strong and heroic protector.”
He gestured widely as he talked, his visage so open and animated that Jean couldn’t help but feel at ease, his words sinking in, “But the Dandelion knight! Well, that’s the one that is often overlooked. They work at home, gentle and giving. They’re still a great protector and capable in a fight, but they don’t get half the recognition they deserve. Everyone remembers Venessa, the Lionfang knight. Not many talk about her as the Dandelion knight. And that’s the real hardest job. Taking care of everything at home as well as abroad without any thanks.”
Jean’s eyes widened, “Really?”
He nodded, “Yes, and if you really want to be like her, well, Venessa was both of those.”
Jean hummed thoughtfully, “The Dandelion knight…” After a moment she squinted up at him, “How did you know all that?”
His grin broadened, “I told you! I’m the best bard in Mondstadt!”
Jean snickered, feeling for a moment that nothing was wrong. And then that moment ended, the bard’s eyes focusing on something to the right of her, in the distance, “...You said something about hilichurls, right?”
Jean’s heart stopped as she turned. She’d hardly noticed that they had left the forest behind. Mondstadt stood, towering over the water, the bridge rising up and meeting land- a good hundred yards away. As beautiful as that sight was, just as disheartening was the mass of hilichurls on the ridge to their right, unintelligible shouts and cries already rising in the group as they spotted them emerge.
The boy’s lips thinned, “That's a lot more than I thought.” He glanced down at her, eyes bright and, if she didn’t know any better, she would say that they glowed , “Well, someone has to tell the knights that the hilichurls are coming, right?”
Jean nodded firmly, “I can do it. I’ve won lots of races at my school!”
He grinned, “I’m sure you did. I bet you’re almost as fast as a glider.” He glanced up at the hilichurls, “Why don’t you see if you can win this race?”
Jean nodded, turned, and then stopped to look back at him, suddenly fearful, “Will you be okay?”
He smiled, something gentle and reassuring there, despite the cries of the hilichurls and the storm billowing up behind him, wind tugging at his green and white cape, “I’ll be fine, Jean. After all, I’ve got the best future knight in Mondstadt getting me reinforcements.”
Jean nodded, “Right!”
She bolted, not daring to look back. Not when he was depending on her to get there as fast as possible. She nearly stumbled and fell, but recovered, feet pounding down the hill as she neared the bridge. She heard the roar of wind behind her, the hilichurls crowing loudly, the thunder of fire and fighting. She didn’t dare look back. There was a particularly loud thud, a cry, and she glanced back, only once, eyes wide.
The bard wielded a bow, anemo turning the strings in his hands a blue-green, wind pulsing around him and lifting him in the air for a moment, his cape flying from his back like a pair of wings.
Then he disappeared behind the rise, her legs carrying her further away as urgency tugged at her heart. Jean practically flew down the crest of the bridge, the wind pushing her onwards. The guards straightened at her approach and Jean waved her hands, shouting, “The- the hilichurls! Lots of hilichurls! They’re coming! They’re coming! Quickly!”
One of them nodded and ran further into the city, calling for reinforcements. Jean panted as the other crouched beside her, asking questions quickly. Jean pointed at the end of the bridge, “Quickly! My friend- the bard- he’s alone with them! I came to get you but he needs help!”
It happened so fast, the knights gathering and leaving, the gates closing and Jean being left alone before those great doors, wondering if the bard was okay.
Eventually, the storm broke and it began to rain.
Jean situated herself under an awning and kept an eye on the gate, not caring about her bedraggled clothes, the dirt coating her shins, and the leaves tangled in her sodden golden curls.
Eventually, after the rain trailed off and the sun came out from behind the overcast clouds, the knights returned, talking and chatting. There was no familiar green clad figure with them. Fearing the worst Jean ran forward, “Please, sir! Did any of you see a boy there? A bard? His name was-“ Jean stopped, “His name was…” she felt cold and upset, voice finishing quietly, “...I didn’t know his name.”
She’d never asked it. He’d just seemed to know hers and now, she might never get the chance know it. One of the knights shrugged, “I’m sorry Miss Jean, but we never saw any bard. In fact, there wasn’t any trace of anyone ever being there at all.”
Another nodded, trying to comfort her, “Though you really are a hero, going and getting us like that, Miss Jean! There were a good deal of hilichurls. Who knows what would have happened to the city if you hadn’t gotten us.”
He ruffled her hair, “You should probably head home, though. Your mother must be worried.”
Jean nodded slowly, watching them pass by, tired and weary but happy. The sun and wind had dried her hair. Jean twisted her fingers together. Had she imagined him? But she remembered him so clearly- his green eyes and bright grin and wind chime laughter. Even now, she could almost swear that she could hear that nameless bard laughing in the wind.
Jean let her hands fall.
Dandelion knight, right?
Jean straightened.
She would go home, but one day when she was all grown up and the Dandelion knight- she would find him again.
She nodded, lifting her chin.
Jean turned and ran further into the city, the wind almost guiding her and pushing at her back the whole way home.
Jean, acting grandmaster of the knights of Favonius, the Dandelion knight, finds the bard exactly where she’d thought he’d be after Dvalin and the traveler and the chaos had finally subsided.
He sits in the roots of the great tree, lyre in hand. The tune matches the laughing brook and the winds seem to obey his music, grass rustling in a quiet applause.
The sky is clear, the wind is fair, and the music calls her home. For the first time in a long time, Jean relaxes, soul soothed. She sits down, a little to the right of him, in the roots of Venessa’s tree and waits, eyes closed as she basks in the sunlight. Eventually, the music stops and the air itself seems to still and wait with bated breath.
She breaks that sudden anticipatory silence, “Why did you leave without telling me your name?”
He was silent before he spoke unusually serious, “You didn’t need Barbatos. Not then.” His mouth quirked slightly upwards, something bittersweet in the tilt of his lips and the lilt of his voice, “You needed someone a little less grand than that.”
Jean eyes him, examining his unchanged appearance- just as youthful as when they’d first met. He was shorter than her now but that wasn’t because of how he had changed. She tilted her head, watching how he glanced up at her, eyes too old in his young face, “Did you choose me to be the next Dandelion knight?”
“No,” he smiled, “I don’t choose people. I’m not that kind of Archon. You all pave your own path. And that- becoming what you are now... that was all you.”
Jean couldn’t help the swell of affection that filled her heart here, under Venessa’s great tree. He was small and noisy and he could be especially bothersome but he was the spirit of Mondstadt- of freedom through and through. He was theirs just as much as the people of Mondstadt were his. He had let go, so long ago now, and let them make their own choices. But the people of freedom had only held on all the harder. They had made their choice and their choice was him.
He eyed her carefully, “Jean?”
She smiled, her words warm and fond, “You just forgot to tell me your name, didn’t you?”
He blinked and then snickered, laughter clear and free and exactly like wind chimes, “Yeah, I did.”
The two of them, Jean and Venti, sat under Venessa’s great tree on a warm summer’s day and listened to birdsong, the wind dancing along to their laughter in the leaves overhead.