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His mask sank slightly into the mud, but Xiao didn’t care. He sat on a rock in some marsh, its name lost for the moment. Just past sunset, the sweet air did nothing to help his ringing ears. He was so tired. A cool breeze shook the sweat off his forehead. He shuddered at the chill, then sighed and took out his simple flute. Too quiet. Xiao played the only melody he knew by heart. It washed some of the weight from his shoulders. Not nearly enough.
The winds began to shift. Even with eyes closed, Xiao could sense his company. Tune cut short, he opened his eyes to a bard, head in his hands nearby.
“Don’t stop on my account.” Venti smiled gently. “This is one of my favorites.”
It was too quiet, but still Xiao sat lamely, made no move to return to his playing.
“You are a long way from Monstadt.”
“Monstadt’s busy. Sleeping or drinking, they don’t need me right now.” He huffed softly. Everything was soft, small, quiet. Too quiet.
“Then what brought you here?”
Venti made no move to broach the distance between them, but his presence felt intimate all the same. “I thought you might want company. You’re stirring up quite the wind.”
“I don’t need your company.”
“Maybe not.”
Neither of them moved.
Xiao thought about Venti often. It was always in an abstract sense, the archon who dragged him from suffering, who gave him a Vision, who showed him music, Freedom. In all his abstraction, he had forgotten how concrete Venti truly was. He wore human clothes and drank human wine, simply because he could. Freedom. How fickle.
“You’re staring.” Venti broke the quiet, with far more amusement than discomfort.
Xiao quickly looked back to the flute in his hands.
Venti stretched. Leaned back. He was so light, he seemed weightless. Despite himself, Xiao envied the comfort of it. He sighed again.
“Will you play something? I only know one song.”
Venti’s smile was brighter than their solemn marsh demanded. pretty. He summoned up a familiar flute. “Any requests?”
“Anything.”
He thought for a second, then smiled again, a bit smaller. “This one isn’t mine. It’s from an old friend.” He shut his eyes, and began to fill the silence properly.
Xiao felt like an intruder, but kept his eyes open all the same. The melody wasn’t sweet. It was a bitter tune, defiant. Venti furrowed his brow, and the trees began to move with him, seemingly on their own. Xiao breathed in every detail as the song became faster, more hopeful. Venti’s clothes rustled in the growing wind. His glowing braids framed his face ever so gently in the dark. beautiful. The final note rang louder than any words they had spoken, and Xiao found himself smiling. Venti waited for the wind to die down, and grinned at Xiao.
“Did you like it?”
He nodded.
“Good.” Venti twirled the flute. “Takes a lot of work to do that one justice.”
They spent a minute in silence.
Xiao stood up and fished his mask from the mud. “I should return to the inn.” He looked to Venti. “Um. Thank you.”
“See you again?” Venti looked hopeful.
The candid question shook Xiao. “Again.” Another nod. He teleported back to Wangshu inn, leaving Venti smiling to himself in the marsh.