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Zhongli’s arrival in Mondstadt is greeted by sunshine, turning the dark viridian expanse into a pleasant shade of forest green. The sounds of Mondstadt’s bustling market can be heard even from across the cobblestone that bridges the gap between the city and its outskirts. As he crosses into the city proper, Cider Lake twinkles up at him, sparkling water interspersed only by the occasional duck.
“Greetings, strange yet respectable traveller!” The voiced, formal welcome comes with obvious signs of exhaustion.
The one to the left eyes his attire curiously, and Zhongli chalks that up to it being foreign. His hasty assumption is corrected almost immediately. “Ah, traveller, might I recommend that you find more suitable attire for this weather? It wouldn’t do for you to collapse of heat exhaustion so soon after your arrival, especially when the Windblume Festival had just begun.”
Zhongli gives the knight a gentle smile. “Do not worry, I have much experience wearing this sort of clothing – in far greater heat.” It was only partially true. While he had worn traditional garb for as long as he could remember, what allowed him to do so was his adeptus physiology, which prevented him from being overly affected from trivial environmental factors such as temperature.
The knight’s brows furrow and his worry does not dissipate, so Zhongli tacks on another sentence. “I will be seeking shade, of course, now that I am within the confines of the city.”
“Very well.” Comes the reply. “Enjoy your stay in Mondstadt, traveller!”
Zhongli nods, before stepping out from the temporary shelter of gateway and back under the glare of the sun, this time within the city limits. The ever-changing variety of market stalls that graced Mondstadt’s streets are packed with people, though there is enough room to get around. Banners and flower arrangements hang from wooden beams sticking out from nearby houses overhead, giving the area an almost-claustrophobic feel.
Slightly taken-aback, Zhongli enters the first shop that he comes across, hoping to get out of the crowd as soon as possible. He sticks out like a sore thumb; dark Liyuan attire has no place amongst the bright, light clothes of Mondstadt. Perhaps he ought to have prepared more before deciding to visit… He has a feeling that Venti will make fun of him when he appears.
A chorus of small bells rings as he opens the door, disturbed by the movement. At the very back of the shop, a brunette young woman sits, perusing an old scroll. She looks up at the noise. “Welcome to 'With Wind Comes Glory'. I don’t often get buyers at this time. Are you looking for anything in particular?”
And he isn’t, not really. “Not really.” Zhongli admits. “I came to Mondstadt to look for someone. The market caught me off guard, so I chose to take refuge in the closest building to recuperate briefly.”
“Huh.” She replies. “Well, while you’re here, why not browse my wares? You can look for them later.”
That is something he can do. “An agreeable suggestion.” He replies, before turning to the shelves lining the shop. There’s an odd mix of items upon the shelves, ranging from a pair of… bloomers? to a wolf’s tooth to a strange bottle that seems to hold the essence of the wind within its tiny body.
What catches his eye isn’t these, however. It’s a shimmering orange-yellow crystal that glimmers under the sunlight peeking in through the shop’s windows. Zhongli stares at it for an inordinate period of time, trying to decipher what about it is so fascination. It finally clicks when he turns the stone over, and he lets out a small gasp.
“This is a prithiva topaz sliver from the carapace of a Primo Geovishap – how fascinating.” He says aloud. “To obtain this, one must first locate the Primo Geovishap’s den, deep beneath the mountains that surround Tianqiu Valley, and even then – to come close enough to one that they might be able to break off a piece –” He holds up the piece, inspecting it. “Why, the efforts that the adventurer would have gone through in order to retrieve this are quite remarkable. It would be a shame if I did not buy it.”
Zhongli settles the sliver back upon the shelf, dipping into the pockets of his jacket. A crestfallen look crosses his face after but a few moments. “Alas, it appears that I have left my wallet back in Liyue.”
The owner of the shop, who had been quiet until then, lets out a chuckle that she smothers quickly.
He smiles faintly. “You may laugh, if you so wish. I will not be offended. It is true that I desire to purchase this, yet I have been hindered by my bad habit of forgetting mora. This is… not an infrequent occurrence.”
At that, she uncovers her mouth and laughs freely. “You- Thank you for that.” She smiles, the laugh lines still prominent. “Well, if you can’t buy anything, why not find your friend now? Maybe they’ll pay for it for you.”
Somehow, he doubts Venti has the funds to pay for it either, but Zhongli doesn’t disclose this to the kind shop owner. “Perhaps.” He replies non-committedly. “I must admit, I have no idea how to go about looking for him. He’s a bit of a free spirit, that bard.”
“A bard?” She probes. “What’s his name? If I recognise it, I could point you to the places that he frequents.”
A pleasant offer. Zhongli chooses to take it. He has no idea where to start, and he doesn’t fancy wandering around Mondstadt aimlessly, busy as it is during the Windblume Festival. “Last I heard, he was going by the name Venti. I believe he wears his hair in two teal-tipped braids, if that helps.”
A curious combination of emotions flickers across the shopkeeper’s face at his words. Shock, worry, curiosity… dawning realisation?
“You said he was a friend of yours?” She asks, an unidentifiable emotion tinging her voice.
“Not exactly,” Zhongli clarifies. “More… old acquaintances. I seek his guidance on certain matters.
The other takes this information in, blinking as she absorbs the implications of his words. Her reaction is certainly curious – though Zhongli brushes it off as a consequence of Venti’s behaviour here in Mondstadt.
The traveller, in-between their preparations for the Rite of Descension, had spoken of a bard in viridian attire in Mondstadt that had swiftly snatched the title of ‘Most Popular Bard’ three times in a row. Without even needing to enquire after the traveller learned of his identity, he knew without a doubt that it was Barbatos – or Venti, as he often chose to go by.
The shopkeeper, depending on how Venti chose to hold himself, could either be wondering how a drunk had any friends, or pondering over how a bard could give advice to a man several years his senior.
Just as the shopkeeper is about to start speaking, the doors of the establishment open.
Speak of the devil and he doth appear.
A light voice greeting the woman – “Good afternoon, Marjorie!” – meets his ears as the door swings shut, but the scent of a breeze carrying the fragrance of Cecilias remains. Venti’s eyes dart around the shop before catching a glimpse of him, almost obscured in the dark corner of the shop, and he sighs. “I suspected as much.”
Zhongli raises an eyebrow. “Hello, Venti. No rhymes, please.”
His fellow immortal (for they are no longer colleagues, not anymore, not since Osial’s defeat) brings a hand to his head in exasperation. “Whatever, you old blockhead. I should have known – Amber said that a tall Liyuan man had recently entered the city. The description did match you, but I had thought…”
“Is my appearance here so surprising?” He asks.
“Well, considering this is your first visit here in a – decade...” Venti trails off, stumbling over his words slightly. Zhongli has a feeling that he had been intending to say ‘millennium’ before remembering the presence of the shopkeeper – Marjorie. “What are you here for? Come to pay for my wine?”
“No, I’m afraid that I do not have mora on me, as I found out minutes prior.”
Venti blinks. “…So?”
He’s intensely aware of the flabbergasted look that has plastered itself across Marjorie’s face. In reply to Venti, he simply taps the area on his chest where his Gnosis used to reside, and lets the other figure it out. “Oh.”
“Yes, oh.” He says drily. “How about we more private setting to continue this conversation?”
And for the first time since Venti’s entrance, Marjorie speaks up, a hint of protectiveness leaking into her tone. “Hold on, where are you taking him?”
“Aw, don’t worry about lil’ ol’ me, Ms Marjorie! I promise that this old blockhead couldn’t hurt a fly.” Venti grins, and Marjorie deflates.
The matter settled, they leave the shop, but as they are doing so, he hears her mutter something under his breath. It would be too quiet to be audible for a mortal, and it confirms his suspicions. ‘Tell that to the gods he hurled islands at. ’ It’s followed quickly by another utterance that’s cut off by the door swinging shut. ‘How does the God of Mora not have any Mora what the fu-’
He lets a faint blush grace his cheeks but only speaks up once they’re out of Mondstadt, making their way across the Windwail Highlands in relative privacy. “Your people know that you are their archon?”
Venti huffs, yet doesn’t deny it. “Of course you caught that. Well, if they do, they certainly haven’t mentioned it to me.” He answers vaguely, and Zhongli quickly translates it to ‘they know but don’t know I know, though I suspect they do know I know’.
Venti has always been fond of half-truths to get out of certain situations, be it anything from getting out of work – even just after his ascension to godhood – to avoiding admitting that he’s utterly failed at keeping his identity secret, in this current scenario. However, seeing as Zhongli himself isn’t sure of how he’s been doing with the same task, he has no ground to stand on.
“Seriously, though, what are you doing in Mondstadt?” Venti asks. “I’m always the one that comes to visit, aren’t I?”
“You are.” Zhongli says, and doesn’t elaborate. Already, regret wells up within him. Maybe this visit really wasn’t well thought out. He should have followed the lead of his Qixing – planning was not simply restricted to Archons with centuries ahead of them.
“Oh, is that how it is? Hmph. Always the omissions with you. So, how about explaining why your Gnosis is gone? An archon as young as the Tsaritsa could never – not someone as experienced as you in battle, surely?”
“I signed a contract with her.” He says matter-of-factly.
Venti stares at him. “But what could possibly be worth a Gnosis ?”
“…” This, he cannot speak of. One of the stipulations of the contract had been utter secrecy, and even if the clause had not existed, the reason he had given up his Gnosis could – should not be shared. “It was the Contract to End All Contracts.” He says instead. “The terms… perhaps you will find out in time.”
Venti stamps his foot childishly, a human gesture that he had picked up from his people. “You brutish blundering buffoon… Ugh. Whatever, so why did you come to Mondstadt?" He repeats. "You don’t need to take a trip here to let me know you were still kicking.” He crosses his arms and puffs out his cheeks like a balloon.
He wants to handle the topic like glass, eggshells even, yet with nobody around to witness their conversation, what good would hedging lead to? He’d deal with the more immediate issues first before moving onto the more selfish reasons for his visit.
“Barbatos,” he starts, voice hardening, intentionally using the other’s true name, “The Tsaritsa will return for your Gnosis, in time. You know what she is planning.”
Barbatos uncrosses his arms, fingers moving to tap repetitively on his fake vision. He mimics Morax’s tone easily, suppressing ‘Venti’ as his gaze drifts. “Of course.”
“What are your plans for when that eventuality arrives?” He queries.
“Well, I will be prepared this time. I doubt that I can fend off more than one Harbinger,” Barbatos admits, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck - another human trait, “But if she wants my Gnosis… she’ll have to answer a few of my questions first.”
Morax stills. “You plan to give it up afterwards?”
“Didn’t you do the same? Surely, that doesn’t surprise you.”
“I just… wouldn’t expect that of you, considering the lengths that your Acting Grandmaster went to in order to get rid of the Fatui presence within the city.”
Barbatos grins, but Morax can already see the persona melting as the sun begins to hang low in the sky. Within a few moments, the smile stretched across Venti’s face becomes less rueful and more mindlessly cheery, a signal that their conversation is over.
“I have my reasons.” He finishes, leaving it at that.
Zhongli nods in acquiescence. Secrecy and shadowed intentions can be held by both parties; there are some things not even friends can share. His more… human questions, are not among these topics, however.
He desires so deeply to question Venti about more philosophical topics – about what made humans human and what separated them from their subjects – but so soon after such a serious discussion, he can tell that Venti wouldn’t take kindly to such a conversation. Instead, he strikes up a talk about the Windblume Festival of today, and that of years past, and they while the rest of the night away reminiscing lighter times.
And for this night alone, underneath the false sky and stars, they cast their minds back to a distant past; from before the Tsaritsa began targeting Gnoses, from before the Calamity, and from before they learnt of the truth of the Divine.