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C O N F I D E N T I A L
CASE FILE #9407

ASSIGNED FIELD OPERATIVE: LUMINE
ASSIGNED INTELLIGENCE OFFICER: ALBEDO

SUMMARY

CATEGORY 5 HURRICANE MISSING FROM MAP. LAST SEEN FIVE HUNDRED KILOMETERS EAST OF MUSK REEF AT 19:25. CAUSE OF DISAPPEARANCE UNKNOWN.

TIMELINE

Hurricane CIMERIES originated from an area of low pressure several hundred kilometers northwest of the moving Haar Islands five days ago (SIDENOTE: the islands have moved to an unspecified location since then; refer to Appendix B for exact coordinates at the time of the report). The system developed into a hurricane the following day and began a period of rapid intensification that brought it to Category 3 intensity within three days. It reached Category 5 intensity after 16 hours.

At 18:00, forecasts predicted that Hurricane CIMERIES will make landfall on Musk Reef within four hours at peak intensity, and continue west towards Falcon Coast two hours after. Heavy rainfall and storm surge expected.

Hurricane CIMERIES was last detected at 19:10 today within 500 kilometers of Musk Reef, with one-minute sustained winds of 315 km/h, gusts up to 380 km/h, minimum central pressure of 898 mbar.

As of 19:25, no traces of Hurricane CIMERIES can be found. Cause of sudden disappearance unknown.

Refer to Appendix A for the Mondstadt Stormwatcher Society Meteorology Primer.

Refer to Appendix B for a detailed report on the meteorological history of Hurricane CIMERIES.

MONDSTADT RESPONSE

At 3:00 today, Storm Signal Warning #5 has been raised for the entire region of Starfell Valley; Storm Signal Warning #4 for Windwail Highland, Brightcrown Mountains, and Dornman Port; and Storm Signal #3 for the rest of the nation with the exception of Dragonspine. The Knights of Favonius have been working on evacuation and relief efforts two hours prior to the public announcement.

At 19:30, all cities have been issued Storm Signal Warning #3 due to decreased precipitation and rapid weakening of the storm system.

As of 20:45, all cities have been issued Storm Signal Warning #1. CIMERIES is no longer classified as a hurricane.

Its sudden disappearance was not broadcasted in the news. The gradual lowering of the Storm Signal Warnings over time was deliberately planned by the Knights to control public reaction to the unexplained weather changes.

Refer to Appendix C for specification on Mondstadt's Storm Signal Warning System and related Disaster and Risk Management Policies.

PERSONS OF INTEREST

VIND: Director of the Mondstadt Stormwatcher Society and liaison to the Knights of Favonius.

PERCY: One of the meteorologists of the Mondstadt Stormwatcher Society. First to report about the low pressure area detected near Haar Islands.

VENTI: Designated Hurricane Hunter of the Mondstadt Stormwatcher Society.

KAZUHA: Field operative from the Crux Fleet ("unaffiliated" vigilante group, most active around Liyue region). Temporarily posted in Stormbearer Mountains as a volunteer pilot for unknown reasons.

WINDBLUME OBSERVATIONS AND REMARKS

PAIMON: The possibility of a paranormal cause is exceedingly high, but WINDBLUME lacks data on paranormal phenomena occurring east of Musk Reef. Paimon suggests making contact with Mondstadt's Hurricane Hunters to investigate the area.

ALBEDO: I'll look into supernatural weather disturbances in other regions of Teyvat. Inazuma has most likely experienced a similar phenomenon. There might be clues in the Haar Islands as well, but it'll be tricky to track its current location. We should also check in with Kazuha. I'm not sure why he's here, but he might have some intel for us.

LUMINE: Hasn't this year's weather been odd lately? Mondstadt has always been gray and dreary, but it feels like it's getting warmer earlier than usual. A missing hurricane might not be an isolated case, but a symptom of a larger problem. Though, personally, I think warm weather is the exact opposite of a problem.

ALBEDO: Indeed. Klee has been enjoying the sun lately.

DILUC: The Knights have been diligent in their preparations, but it's not certain that they would have handled the disaster efficiently. It's true that the rainy season lasts more than half a year, but Mondstadt has never experienced a Category 5 hurricane before.

PAIMON: And hopefully, it never will!

※

Stormbearer Mountains is home to a wealthy family who, for generations, have watched over the eastern sea for incoming storms since the fall of the Mondstadt Aristocracy, though detailed records of their storm watching activities date only as far back as 200 years ago. They have built watchtowers, lighthouses, and most recently the Mondstadt Meteorology Center situated at the highest cliffs of Stormbearer Point.

The director of the Mondstadt Stormwatcher Society, Vind, is also the current heir of the family.

Mondstadt relies heavily on the Stormwatcher Society's weather forecasts, though to say that Mondstadt cares about the weather is misleading. A Mondstadter never asks what the weather will be tomorrow; they only ask how much rain will fall tomorrow. For eight months of the year, Mondstadt's weather is a predictable thing: tomorrow, too, it will rain.

Legend has it that Mondstadt once enjoyed gentle, warm weather all year-round, and that the lake city of Mondstadt never experienced rain. Lumine could hardly imagine it. Although the weather conditions aren't severe like in Inazuma, Mondstadt has always been plagued with rain and sometimes snow, with barely two months of sparse sunshine. Precipitation is a near constant companion for most of the year. Most Mondstadters visit the neighboring country of Liyue to escape the dreary weather.

As far as supernatural phenomena go, a missing hurricane might be the Windblumes' most challenging investigation yet. Weather systems are chaotic, but Mondstadt's weather is supposed to be predictable. A Category 5 hurricane is anything but that.

It doesn't take a scientist to figure out that finding clues out at sea in the dead of the night will be close to impossible.

Then again, "impossible" is the crux of Lumine's career. Teyvat may have moved on to a godless, magic-less era thanks to the Elemental Revolution, but that just means that the supernatural now live behind the shadows. It is the Windblumes' duty to protect Mondstadt from these otherworldly threats and investigate the things that go bump in the night. And Lumine is the best in the business.

The creation and sudden disappearance of a Category 5 hurricane is, almost certainly, the work of the supernatural.

"What do you think?" Lumine asks as she drives through the winding, concrete roads that lead to the Meteorology Center. "Wanna bet that it's ancient Khaenri'ahn tech?"

"I don't take losing bets. As far as I'm aware, Khaenri'ah didn't have the technology to control the weather," Albedo replies. The soft clack-clack-clack of his keyboard filters softly through the intercom in Lumine's ear, disguised as a feather earring. "A spell from an aspiring witch's apprentice, perhaps?"

"Could be. She'd have to be a powerful witch though. The Hexenzirkel would have picked up on her."

"I'll ask Mona about it when I track her location again."

"We don't find Mona. We only see her when she wants us to."

"No," Albedo says, unusually adamant. "I'll find her this time."

Yeah, sure. Albedo might be a genius with a whole nation's underground intelligence network at his fingertips (a testament to how much Diluc trusts him), but he is no match for a full-fledged witch who operates off-the-grid like Mona. None of them are.

Despite the Windblumes' self-appointed mission to deal with magical threats, none of them have actually dabbled in magic themselves. It is extremely rare for humans to have the ability to naturally manipulate the elements without a conduit, such as a spell book or a rare cursed artifact like a delusion. The Hexenzirkel witches are a known exception.

Lumine herself is lucky enough to be touched by magic. But even so, the only skill she gains out of it is the ability to see and feel faint elemental traces. It helps speed up an investigation and gives her an edge when facing extraordinary foes. But when it comes to a fight, she is just as dependent on Diluc's modified weapons as anyone else on the team.

"Vind should be waiting for you by the lobby," Albedo informs her just as the towering building comes into view. "They're preparing to fly soon, so you might be able to check for residual magic in the area. Good luck out there."

Mondstadt's Meteorology Center is massive. The main building is structured to look like a lighthouse, and there's another at a distance that functions as their engineering hub. Lumine can see a peek of the jets used by their Hurricane Hunters being prepped on the runway.

"They also have a speedboat, but you'd have to take the long way down to get there," Albedo tells her over the comm. Lumine spies a long flight of stairs hugging the cliffside towards the beach below. There is no sign of an elevator.

The rain has stopped. A swarm of crystalflies have gathered by the cliff, diffusing a soft glow to the night sky. More of them are floating peacefully by the shore.

Despite the late hour, the building is in a clear flurry of activity when Lumine meets Vind at the lobby.

"I've heard the rumors," Vind says. "I wasn't sure about your group at first, what with how the media portrays vigilante work these days. You know how it is, right? You would have a bounty on your head if you were operating in Snezhnaya or Inazuma. But you have Jean's trust, therefore you have my trust as well. I'll always follow her lead on these things."

Vind plasters on a pleasant smile as she leads Lumine through the halls. She walks with grace and a perfectly straight posture, reminiscent of the rich folks that attend the galas Diluc couldn't get out of. She talks with a gentle cadence, like a teacher patiently tutoring a student. Dark circles under her eyes betray the flawlessly polite demeanor she puts on. From Diluc's intel, Vind has been working with Jean for the past 48 hours to monitor the storm and plan relief operations.

She reminds Lumine of Adelinde. Just a little bit.

The winged wisp pendant on her neck suggests that she's the religious type — a rare sight in Teyvat nowadays. Barbatos charms are popular in Mondstadt and he remains to be one of the few historical personalities from the past that managed to outlive the Elemental Revolution, but Lumine recognizes the teal lining and the tell-tale signs of starsilver ore crafting.

This pendant isn't one of those one-mora souvenir charms from the kiosks in Dornman Port. This one came from the church.

"Thank you for accommodating us on such short notice," Lumine responds, equally polite. "I know it's quite late already."

"Oh, it's no problem! Had I known that Mondstadt has its own magical investigation unit, I would have asked for your help sooner."

"What do you mean?"

Vind releases a restrained sigh. "Mondstadt's weather has been… unusually erratic for a while. Do you remember Hurricane Leraje two years ago? It was a Category 4 hurricane. The Stormwatcher Society has 200 years' worth of weather reports, and in all that time the most severe storm we've had was Hurricane Marbas 24 years ago. It was a Category 3 hurricane — the strongest we've had without categorizing it as truly severe weather, but it was nothing that Mondstadt wasn't prepared for."

Lumine vaguely remembers Marbas. It was the day after the Archons' Gallery heist, which she and Aether followed on tv. Aether was a huge fan of the phantom thief Therion, who announced their heists with a calling card and broadcasted their escape through the media. The Knights of Favonius never caught them.

She had been five. School was suspended due to the incoming storm and Lumine found a pretty blue rock on the way home. It shimmered like the gemstone she saw on tv. And then suddenly, the winds raged, the rain came pouring fast, and she was soaked to the bone. The world was engulfed in fog. She was lost in the storm alone until Aether found her.

She never found that rock again. It was probably swept away by the storm.

True to Vind's word, Mondstadt has never had a storm as vicious as Marbas until Leraje came along. Mondstadt was caught unprepared. Leraje came out of left field and caused many deaths and injuries, mostly due to flooding and property damage. The knights are still dealing with the economic repercussions to this day.

310 dead, 84 injured, 29 missing. Cimeries, if it had landed, would have been much more devastating.

Lumine fills in the blanks herself. "You think that something is causing the storms to get worse, otherwise Mondstadt's weather should have gradually became severe. This is an abrupt change."

"Precisely." Vind pauses in front of the door that leads to what Lumine guesses is the monitoring station. It's separated from the rest of the rooms in the building. "I'll let Venti and Percy explain to you the details. They've been tracking Cimeries since it developed from a low pressure area. They're getting ready to fly out to sea, so feel free to join them. Venti is also the most familiar with our archives, so he can help you look into our records afterwards. Unfortunately, I still have matters to attend to with the knights."

Lumine tries not to make a face. Diluc is probably rubbing off on her, but talking with the knights is her least favorite part of the job. Any happiness one felt about a national emergency failing to happen will soon be overshadowed by the fact that all efforts to mitigate it have gone to waste.

Mondstadt sees the Stormwatcher Society in very high regard though. Despite the perceived blunder, Lumine hopes that this incident wouldn't damage the trust and goodwill they've built over the years.

"Lord Barbatos, give this woman patience." She pats Vind on the shoulder in sympathy. "Damage control. I don't envy you."

For the first time, Vind cracks a genuine laugh. It's good to establish rapport. "No you most certainly don't. At least you'll be out on a plane while I'm stuck in meetings."

Mondstadt's Stormwatcher Society is one of the more technologically advanced weather monitoring organizations in Teyvat, bested only by the national weather services of Inazuma and Snezhnaya. Considering how important the weather report is in Mondstadt, Lumine always imagined the inside of the building to look like a war room, not unlike the one Windblumes use under the Dawn Winery Estate.

The monitoring station she finds herself in is a mess. Papers strewn about, numerous mugs of cold coffee on the tables, charts and maps and models littering the screens.

One of the older meteorologists is staring at his screen intently, like the answers would come to him if he squints his eyes hard enough on a particular pixel. Despite wearing glasses, his limpid eyes are as clear as moonlight. He is shuffling a deck of cards one-handed without looking.

There is a sickly, pale woman writing something on the desk; she looks like she’s about to fall over. Next to her is a small desk collecting dust. Atop are books and drawings and pictures of a young woman with flowing white hair. The desk’s seat looks like it hasn’t been sat on for years.

One of them apparently has fallen over already, bundled up in a fluffy green blanket and sleeping peacefully on the sofa.

Kazuha is lounging next to him, scrolling through his phone. He is the only person Lumine recognizes, and the only person in the room who looks at ease.

"Oh, hey V, you're back." Kazuha waves at them. Something playful dances in his eyes as they land on Lumine. He definitely recognizes her. "And this is…?"

"Lumine here was sent by the knights to help investigate Cimeries," Vind explains. "We talked about this earlier. She'll join the flight tonight, so please assist her in any way you can. She'll hear your theories out, and yes, that includes the ones on The Whiteboard, Percy."

The man who was narrowing his eyes on the monitor looks up and adjusts his glasses. So that's Percy. "Don't tease me, V. You know we were just playing around. Nobody actually believes those."

Vind allows herself a wry smile. Lumine notes how she's much less guarded around her team. If they're already on nickname basis, then she seems to be well-liked.

"Venti does," Vind says. "No matter how out of this world it is, Lumine will take it seriously and tell you if your theories have merit. It's her job to investigate this whole thing, after all. Now, I still have to go back to the knights after this, so be good and don't make trouble for us, okay? You can go when you're ready. Anna, please stay here and man the monitoring station while they're out."

The pale woman gives a mock salute. "Will do, V. I can't handle going out anyway. The station's warmer, and I can hog Venti's blanket when everyone's gone."

With brief introductions finished, Vind leaves Lumine in Percy's care. The green fluff on the sofa rises slowly with a big yawn after Kazuha shakes him awake. By process of elimination, this must be Venti.

"Nice to meet you, Lumine. Thanks for coming by, though I doubt we'll actually find anything out there," Percy confides in her as he stands up to stretch. "I mean, it's a storm. What else are we going to see other than water and wind, like any other storm? And it's already been two hours since it disappeared too. There's practically nothing left."

"Wasn't it your idea to go though, old man?" Venti says, voice rough with sleep. He's still wrapped up in the blanket like a cocoon. "You know, we might find—"

"—an Eye of the Storm, yeah, yeah, I know." Percy flicks a card in Venti's direction to cut him short. It hits him square in the chest and flutters about the air before landing on the floor face up. It's the joker. "Of course you'd want to go cryptid hunting."

Venti blinks, slowly regaining awareness. There is clear amusement in his voice when he says, "I chase storms. I'm not the one chasing ghosts here."

His eyes land on Lumine. Venti shares a wink with her before continuing, "So you must be V's guest, huh? Just give me five minutes, then we can head out. Are you familiar with how hurricane hunting works?"

Lumine shrugs. "Sort of. I've seen Catching the Wind."

She's not sure if that's enough of an overview. Every child of Mondstadt is required to watch Catching the Wind during their secondary and tertiary education, as part of their environmental science classes. The documentary features a brief history of Mondstadt's weather forecasting practices, protocols and storm warning signals that have been set in place by the knights, among other weather-related topics. The film also has a short section on storm chasers and hurricane hunters.

"The technology there is a bit outdated, but the gist of it is still the same. Once a hurricane is close enough, we fly into the eye to measure pressure, air temperature, wind speed, and so on. It's all so we can feed more accurate data to our prediction models." Venti shrugs off the blanket and waves a hand dismissively. "Of course, since Cimeries is gone, there wouldn't be anything left to measure. But I still want to check things out and go cryptid hunting, for Percy's sake."

Percy frowns. "You can't pilot the plane. You haven't slept in days."

"That's why we have this guy!" Venti grins, slinging an arm around Kazuha. "Now come on, come on, the sea won't wait for us!"

He grabs a long metal instrument from the sofa and pushes Percy out the door, leaving Lumine to fall in step with Kazuha as they follow from behind at a more leisurely pace. From the corner of her eye, she spots Anna bundling herself with the discarded blanket, a mug of cold coffee in hand, waving them goodbye.

Static hums in her ear as they fly past Musk Reef.

"Lu--…—you're—…—offline," Albedo says, voice choppy. "—…—enabling logs—…—lose you—…—stay safe."

Lumine nods back, even though Albedo can't see her. The Windblumes' communication systems is impressive, but it can't reach as far as the eastern sea. Looks like she'll have to finish the recon on her own.

There is a lot of room in the jet for four people. Kazuha took control of the pilot's seat and Percy assigned himself the role of flight engineer. They both kicked Venti out of the cockpit before he can commandeer a seat.

"You can pilot the plane when you've had eight hours of sleep. Minimum," Percy tells him over the speakers just as Lumine settles at the back of the jet, where the navigators would usually sit, tinkering with their own machines. "We'll fly close to where Cimeries was last located, then we can check Musk Reef on the way back. We should arrive in about an hour."

"Lumine, I'm sure you have questions, so why don't you ask Venti for the time being? It will keep Venti occupied," Kazuha says. The wording is clear: there will be time for her to ask Kazuha questions later. "I think he wheeled in The Whiteboard."

"He did," Lumine confirms. As it turns out, The Whiteboard is where the team wrote all their theories about what's happening with Mondstadt's erratic weather. It's filled with maps, reports, and a lot of chicken scratch writing that Lumine can barely make sense of. There's hardly any space left to write in.

Sans the illegible handwriting, it looks similar to the evidence board Lumine uses when she's investigating a case and trying to piece together her leads. The familiarity brings out a smile in her.

She taps her feather earring twice to take a picture. Albedo should receive a copy of it when she's back within range.

"You'd think I would crash the plane just because I haven't slept in a while," Venti grumbles under his breath. He sighs and plasters on a polite smile, not unlike the one Vind wore earlier, and turns to Lumine, "Well, we've got one hour to kill. What do you want to know, miss knight?"

"I'm not with the knights," Lumine says reflexively. Diluc would totally be proud of her for that.

Something about that statement changes the way Venti looks at her. "That's not what V said."

"Sometimes we work together. Or rather, they bring me in for… unusual cases. I'm more like a private detective."

"A vigilante then." Venti nods to himself, satisfied with his conclusion. As expected, the polite smile doesn't waver. Kazuha's low chuckle is heard from the cockpit.

Lumine understands the hesitancy though. The knights aren't forthcoming to the public about how much they rely on the Windblumes, so most people think that working with vigilante groups is like playing Snezhnayan Roulette: there's always a chance they'd turn on you. They claim to be a force of good, but only if you're lucky.

Diluc drilled it into her head that this is the result of the Elemental Revolution, that time period 500 years ago where nations all over Teyvat clamored to ban magic and take down institutions relating to the archons. The revolution period officially ended with a worldwide information blackout on the supernatural. The broad strokes of it are now thought of as fairy tales or ancient, underdeveloped technology.

It's taboo to rely on magic and alchemy, and that extends to investigating cases where magic is the cause. The repercussions range from prison time to social alienation.

Many organizations have claimed to police these incidents without relying on local authorities, for the sake of peace and justice. Many others have claimed the same, but fell into terrorism later on. Eventually, anyone who works outside of law enforcement or is associated with magic is met with suspicion. You can't know who to trust these days.

Lumine, however, suspects that the wariness both Vind and Venti approach her with stems from something more than just what a normal civilian fears about the Windblumes' reputation. Instincts tell her that it could be indicative of something bigger, that they're masking to hide something. But another, more sensible voice (one that suspiciously sounds like a mix of Aether and Albedo) tells her not to jump to conclusions yet.

So Lumine smiles back and mirrors the politeness. She'll work on building rapport with Venti gradually. It's important to gain his and Vind's trust, given how much intel they possess.

"Why don't we start with your latest theories?" she suggests, tapping The Whiteboard. "I read the report on Cimeries already. I was called in to investigate the sudden disappearance, but something tells me you've been looking into something deeper before this even happened."

Venti nods. He uses the metal instrument he took with him to point to various writings on the board. Lumine belatedly realizes that it's a flute.

"There has been a gradual increase in precipitation over the last two decades," Venti explains. "Weather systems are chaotic and stronger storms are expected, but there have been two strong hurricanes that intensified faster than any other storm recorded in history."

"Leraje and Cimeries. Vind mentioned that part to me."

"Right." Venti twirls the flute in his hand as he continues. "They basically came out of nowhere. We think they didn't develop due to natural causes. So! We've come up with a few ideas on what might have happened."

He flips the whiteboard over. On the other side are more chicken scratch writing, with some words crossed out and some encircled. There are at least eight question marks scattered throughout.

Discreetly, Lumine takes another picture.

Venti points to a crude squiggle of lines above a drawing of a fire. The image has been crossed out. "Anna looked into environmental factors. Hurricanes need heat and wind to survive, so she thinks that maybe the sea is getting warmer than before. We checked though. There hasn't been a significant change in average sea temperature over the last five years."

Next, the flute points to a doodle of a triangle that vaguely looks like a witch's hat. Next to it is a string of… swirly blobs? "Percy thinks it's a witch's curse. Vind thinks it's anemo-charged, a huge Eye of the Storm. Like, an evolved version of it? Assuming that these Eyes actually exist, of course."

Officially, Mondstadt has never seen an Eye of the Storm in centuries. Unofficially, Lumine has taken down four of them in the last six years. They are uncommon and well-hidden enough to not cause a huge disturbance.

"And what do you think?" Lumine leans forward and props her chin on her hand.

Venti blinks, then stares at the board. He chews on the end of the flute absent-mindedly as he gathers his thoughts, and for a moment, the mask falls. There is a genuine spark of interest in his eyes as he points to a clump of tiny wisp doodles and says, "I don't know how or why yet, but I think that it's the Thousand Winds that's causing the rapid intensification."

He says it with such conviction that Lumine doesn't even doubt he's messing with her. He truly believes that the Thousand Winds exist. A being that has been relegated to fairy tales, and even then, mentions of the Thousand Winds are rare. Not even the Windblumes have confirmed its existence.

Not even Lumine thought she might be investigating the Thousand Winds. How strange that this group of weather scientists are up to date on obscure mythology.

Something's up.

Percy's voice filters through the speaker after a long pause. "See Venti, I told you nobody would believe us. She probably thinks we're crazy."

"No, you're not crazy," Lumine immediately replies. Percy sputters in response. "I just didn't expect anyone to bring up the Thousand Winds. It's usually not included in children's books. You'd have to read very obscure literature, or non-canonical holy texts, to know about them."

"I'm a well-read person. Might have gotten it from my brother, actually. He studies literature and rants to me all the time about the old bard songs he's reading. I know all the myths and poems from the past and present!" Venti grins. Another crack in the mask. Maybe Lumine will get him to lower his guard before the night ends. "Looks like you did your homework too."

Lumine gives him an easy, earnest smile. "It's part of my job. I don't know much about meteorology, but if you think that science isn't enough to explain what's happening, then I believe you. If it's a supernatural cause, I'll help you get to the bottom of it. I'll help you figure out what's causing the intense hurricanes."

She means it, too. She already has a few leads to follow up on. Lumine already can't wait to get back home and update her evidence board.

They spend the rest of the flight going over the writings on The Whiteboard. Venti's appraising looks are a lot more promising after that, and even Percy is warming up to how Lumine is considerate of all their wild theories. Any other person would have dismissed their ideas as fanciful at best and joking around at worst, but Lumine makes sure to let them know that she's taking everything they say very seriously.

Lumine counts it as progress when Venti starts looking at her in wonder instead of cautious politeness.

She also decides not to point out how, for all their theorizing over the cause of the hurricanes, nobody in the jet brings up why they think Cimeries just disappeared.

High above the last location where Cimeries had been, Venti lets Lumine feed the dropsonde to the launcher. It's ejected from the plane and sails down with a tiny parachute, ready to collect whatever measurements the team needs to characterize the weather.

For Lumine, the scenery is obvious. There is an eerie calm, a quiet that would have fooled anyone into believing that a hurricane had not raged through the waters just a few hours ago.

It's faint, but there are elemental traces all around them. Anemo hovers in the air, while cryo lingers on the water's surface, trailing back all the way to Musk Reef. This confirms one theory at least: Cimeries was destroyed using leyline energy. A leyline disturbance perhaps? Or is something manipulating it?

Before Lumine can make the suggestion, Venti is already asking Kazuha. "Can we land on Musk Reef?"

"Sure, I'm on it," Kazuha says as the jet maneuvers its way back towards the small island.

"Did... did you see something, Venti?" Percy asks.

"Well, we can't exactly land on the waters, can we? If we're going cryptid hunting, our best bet is in Musk Reef. V's gonna be happy if we find an Eye of the Storm."

There is a glow in his eyes as he looks over the horizon where the sky blurs with the sea, an untraceable teal that a normal human wouldn't be able to notice. To Lumine, however, it glimmers prettily under the night sky and the jet's bad lighting.

Lumine knows those eyes. Her eyes should be glowing too; gold, like Aether's. Mona's eyes are a cool indigo when she's "divining the elements," as she puts it.

So. Venti can see elemental traces too.

Lumine blinks and shuts off her elemental sight when Venti turns to look at her. If he noticed the change in her eyes, he doesn't mention it.

"Hey detective, do you just investigate or do you also know how to deal with, uh… supernatural creatures?"

"Didn't cover this in the cryptid hunting plan?" Lumine jokes. It's clear that while everyone in the team pitches in with their ideas, it's Venti who actually compiles all this information and makes coherent theories and plans out of them.

"Oh, I can take care of myself," Venti says, and he seems to wholeheartedly believe it despite admitting fifteen minutes earlier that he has never seen an Eye of the Storm before. "And Kazuha can protect himself and Percy. But since you're the one with experience and all…"

Huh, so they don't know about Kazuha then. Lumine remembers fighting an Eye of the Storm with Kazuha once before, in the borders between Liyue and Mondstadt. She can feel him smiling all the way from the cockpit.

Lumine pats Venti on the head. "Don't worry. I can deal with any cryptid you throw at me. If anything happens, I'll protect you."

They land on Musk Reef just before midnight. The island is small and uninhabited, with the dilapidated ruins of a moondial serving as its only remarkable landmark. Kazuha stretches his arms as he disembarks, content to watch from afar while Percy and Venti run around the island in search for cryptids.

Venti makes a beeline towards the back of the ruins, playing a jaunty tune with his flute like some kind of pied piper character trying to entice the supernatural to his side.

"I'll take care of them," Kazuha says. "Go do what you have to do. We'll talk later."

He slinks towards the back of the ruins to join the others.

Yeah, he's definitely hired to be their bodyguard, or some other similar job. It's rare for him to be in Mondstadt territory, and even rarer for his work to overlap with Lumine's, but it has happened before. Kazuha is capable, so Lumine lets him handle the cryptid hunting team.

The static in her ear comes back to life as she approaches the shore facing Mondstadt.

"You're back online," Albedo says, though his voice is still not as clear as when Lumine was back in the mainland. "I'll ask Diluc to widen our network to cover your area next time. Are you okay? Do you have something for me?"

Lumine's eyes flash gold. Wisps of blue-white energy stares back at her from the surface of the water, covering the perimeter of the island and running all the way to where Cimeries was last seen. She bends down and dips her hand in. It's cold, freezing cold, and contaminated with cryo energy that's slowly dissipating away. It was likely even colder than this a few hours ago.

"Albedo, can you look up what the water temperature around Musk Reef usually is? The Meteorology Center probably has this data stored somewhere."

"27 degrees averaged over the past year." A pause. "Hurricanes develop over a sea surface temperature of at least 26.5 degrees Celsius."

"Someone's been reading the weather primer."

Of course Albedo would be diligent enough to read through the appendices in the case file. Lumine usually reads them later, when the urgency of being on the field has worn off and she has time to deliberate in front of her evidence board.

"That is what I'm here for. Is there something different with the water?"

Lumine hums and dips her hand again. "I don't have a thermometer, but I'm pretty sure this is not warm enough for a hurricane. It's as cold as Aether's precious iced coffee drinks. And there's traces of cryo here." She scans her surroundings. "I'm not seeing a source of the cryo energy though. Only traces that indicate that something happened here, about a few hours ago. It's fresh."

Albedo hums in thought. "So something or someone cooled the surrounding waters, cleaned up the evidence, and left. Can you trace any other elements?"

"Yeah, there's anemo, which isn't surprising, and— wait, hold on, is that…? Oh shit."

The traces of anemo have concentrated behind her to the back of the ruins, exactly where Venti went. Sand flies around as an actual Eye of the Storm twists the air around it. The jaunty little tune Venti is playing takes on an almost panicked cadence to it, like a nursery rhyme sped up.

Honestly, Lumine should have seen this coming.

"Trouble?"

"Yeah. Kazuha's with them though, so that should buy me some time. I'll handle it."

Lumine takes out her gun and dips it in the waters, letting it absorb the remaining cryo energy resting on the surface. It's one of the newer, modified weapons Diluc provides for the Windblumes. Each bullet is created with crystalfly cores and resin from Petrified Trees, while the muzzle is lined with small alchemy inscriptions.

In essence, an elemental firing gun. Few people find a use for it since you'd have to charge it with elemental energy, and there are more efficient weapons out there. But for agents with elemental sight like Aether and Lumine, these guns are extremely useful.

Lumine runs towards the back of the ruins and climbs one of the pillars to take stock of the situation. On instinct, she taps her earring thrice to record.

Kazuha already made decent work at creating dents in the Eye's armor. Percy is standing with a hand out in front of Venti, as if attempting to shield him. And Venti…

Venti is still playing the flute like a madman. He rushes through the melody of a cheerful-sounding song that suspiciously sounds like a sped up version of the jingle that Good Hunter uses in their commercials to get people to buy their sticky honey roasts.

The Eye of the Storm drops near the shore, a heavy weight pulled by gravity. Only Kazuha is close enough to suffer through the resulting splash of water, drenching his clothes. Venti pauses his playing and stares at the scene in awe.

A rare, armored ball of anemo sits quietly on the waters. It waits, as if the eye is staring back at Venti.

And then suddenly, the Eye of the Storm begins to whir and gather wind into itself. Wind violently whips around it.

Venti sheepishly looks down on his flute. "Uh oh. That wasn't supposed to happen."

Lumine takes that as her cue. "Hey big guy!" she yells from the top of the pillar she's now standing on. "You might want to air on the side of caution!"

Three things happen in quick succession. One, Lumine jumps as close to the Eye of the Storm as she can, holding her arms up in front of her to shield herself from the winds and sand, though some of them slice through her skin. Water splashes on the core of the Eye of the Storm as she lands.

Two, Lumine aims for the cracks in the armor that Kazuha made and fires three cryo bullets. Bang! Bang! Bang! The howling of the wind stops, and the Eye of the Storm floats frozen on the water's surface.

Three, she hikes up her dress and procures the starsilver dagger strapped to the back of her thigh with suspenders (and vaguely recognizes a choked sound coming from behind her). She stabs the core of the Eye with her dagger, lets go, and swiftly turns away to give space for Kazuha to follow up with his own attack.

Within seconds, the Eye of the Storm shatters into bursts of anemo energy. The island is engulfed in silence.

"Nice thinking out there. Thanks for the assist," Kazuha says as he wrings water out of his clothes. A nasty gash has ripped his shorts and the skin on his left thigh, but it’s nothing Kazuha can’t handle. This isn't the first time they teamed up against an enemy, and it won't be the last. He offers her a fist. "Didn't know you could wield a gun like that though. Is it new?"

Lumine grins and bumps fists with him. "Yeah, Albedo made it recently, though I already learned how to use a gun a long time ago in Fontaine."

A cursory glance with her elemental sight tells her that there's no more imminent danger of the elemental kind lurking about. Satisfied that they're all safe, Lumine picks up her starsilver dagger from the sand, inspecting it. Still looks good, but she'll need to sharpen the edge again when she gets back. Sighing, she slides the knife to the back of her thigh, though unfortunately the sheath is now wet with sea water, just like the rest of her dress. Great.

Another choked sound behind her. This time, without the rush of the fight clouding her thoughts, she can recognize that it's coming from Venti.

"Is everyone alright?" Kazuha asks. Venti is looking very intently at his flute while Percy is grinning. They look unharmed, and strangely calm for civilians whose lives were in danger just a second ago.

"Oh, everything's peachy. Venti had a good time cryptid hunting, didn't you buddy?" Percy pats Venti in the back. "Say Lumine, out of curiosity, did you ever say how old you were?"

Lumine tilts her head, feigning innocence. "Twenty nine."

Percy's grin is shark sharp. "Hm, interesting. Very interesting, don't you think, Venti?"

Venti resolutely ignores the conversation and gives Percy the side eye. "Did you at least get pictures of the Eye of the Storm?"

"I got pictures of your cryptid, don't worry. V will be disappointed if she heard about this and we didn't bring pictures."

Venti nods, makes an excuse about how it's getting late and he'll get the blankets and the med kit prepared for Kazuha and Lumine, then runs to the jet without looking back.

Albedo chuckles in Lumine's ear. "I looked into everyone's data while you were offline. Interestingly, Venti was born during a really bad storm twenty four years ago. That number rings a bell, doesn't it?"

Hm, interesting indeed.

Should she put Venti under the suspects list in her evidence board or not? Either way, with his behavior during the fight, he's definitely more involved with this case than he lets on.

She'll need to research on Hurricane Marbas later too, although no doubt Albedo is already way ahead of her. Maybe she'll just ask him to give her a summary of what he finds. Research has always been his domain anyway. Lumine is better off gathering intel on the field. She still needs to talk to Kazuha too.

The adrenaline has worn off by the time they all return to the jet. Venti is much more composed than earlier. He passes blankets and bandages while Percy checks the engines. Kazuha goes off to the side to clean his own wounds, leaving the Lumine alone with Venti. The med kit is already laid out neatly on one of the desks.

"Thanks for saving us earlier. Do you need help dressing your wounds, detective?" Venti asks.

She doesn't. There is one long cut on her left arm, from when the winds sliced through her. Blood soaks through the blanket and there's some sand sticking to her skin, but it's nothing Lumine hasn't experienced before. She knows how to clean her wounds on her own; has done so dozens of times.

She holds her arm out and asks, sweetly, "Can you roll out the bandages for me, please?"

Venti has gentle hands, but with calloused fingers. His eyes are tired and rimmed with dark circles — he really hasn't slept well. He looks like he'll crash any time once his body feels safe and they're back in Mondstadt.

Their heads bump as they both lean down to clean her bleeding arm. Lumine can feel herself drifting away, already going through the mental notes she made of her investigation while her body works on autopilot to dress her wounds and catalogue the behaviors of the tired man beside her.

"Vind told me I can go to you to look through your archives?"

"Yeah, just swing by any time and I'll help you find what you need. I've gone through the records hundreds of times already."

Venti is sticking his tongue out, giving her wound more concentration than it deserves. It really isn't as bad as it looks.

Lumine considers her words carefully. "Alright. It's a date."

Venti's hands still. He fails to hide the smile spreading across his face.

He's intriguing as far as Lumine's "dates" go. Usually she has to sit with politicians, shady businessmen, terrorists, and even the occasional cultist or two. Or ten. Cultists are an unfortunate purview of her job description.

But for all his secrecy, Venti is… normal. He doesn't have the sly arrogance of criminals. His smile is careful, but genuine. He has a sharp mind, but he's in over his head with what he's getting into. He doesn't see the supernatural as a weapon, only a curiosity worth discovering.

He's looking for Eyes of the Storm. He thinks that the Thousand Winds are creating hurricanes. He is Marbas's child.

Lumine wonders, idly, whatever happened to the pretty blue rock she found on that day when Hurricane Marbas passed through Mondstadt.

EVIDENCE BOARD

CASE STATUS: OPEN

INVESTIGATION PERIOD (ONGOING): 4 DAYS

PERSONS OF INTEREST (UPDATED)

ANNA: Recent intern at the Stormwatcher Society, early twenties. Chronically ill. Most likely not deeply involved with the case, but is peripherally involved with those who are.

PERCY: Parsifal Landrich. Early forties, disowned by the Landrich family eighteen years ago for acts of heresy. Has gone no-contact and worked for the Stormwatcher Society ever since. His family is unaware of his whereabouts and presumes he's dead. Dabbles in sleight-of-hand magic tricks. Visits the taverns often, heavy drinker. Something weighs heavily on his mind, unclear if it's related to the case.

VIND: Mid-forties, led the Stormwatcher Society for almost two decades. Had a strained relationship as liaison to the knights until Jean became the Grand Master. Single, legally acted as Venti's guardian until he became of age. Religious, but with eccentric beliefs. Goes to the Church of Barbatos every Sunday, but reads non-canonical texts. Participates in auctions for vintage musical instruments.

VENTI: Born during Hurricane Marbas. No records of his birth family. Dotes on his younger brother (from Vind's family) Carmen, who studies literature in Mondstadt University. Can use elemental sight, proficiency unknown. His flute might be a supernatural artifact. Extensive knowledge on meteorology, local mythology, and winemaking. Seems to have eidetic memory based on his perfect recollection of the Stormwatcher Society's archives. Fond of cecilias and wine. Doesn't sleep well (insomniac?). His penchant for "cryptid hunting" seems to stem from curiosity, but he frequently cites that it's for Percy's sake for some reason. Surprisingly, an atheist.

KAZUHA

MONA

LEADS AND PRIORITY INTEL

KAZUHA: Seems to be investigating something else on his own, but it's likely not related to the missing hurricane. Our cases may overlap. Best case: they're related and we can share intel; worst case: it might be a conflict of interest.

STORMWATCHER SOCIETY: They are currently investigating the cause of erratic weather. They don't seem interested in figuring out why a Category 5 hurricane disappeared, despite putting up pretenses in front of the knights that they are investigating the matter.

MUSK REEF: Found an Eye of the Storm there and exterminated it quickly. Its presence means that there is a disturbance in the ley line or elemental energy of the region. Found abundant traces of cryo energy in the water.

MONA: Can predict the next location of the Haar Islands and confirm if the hurricane disappearance was caused by a witch. Still off-the-grid, still being tracked by Albedo. The Haar Islands may or may not be related to the incident.

THOUSAND WINDS: Venti believes they are the cause of the unusual rapid intensification of hurricanes.

DISCARDED INTEL

INAZUMA: Weather disturbances in Inazuma are due to natural causes from lingering archon remains and don't match the irregular weather characteristics we see in Mondstadt. Inazuma Meteorological Agency suggests that Hurricane Cimeries, Leraje, and Marbas were likely isolated cases.

※

Four days after Hurricane Cimeries never landed, Mondstadt is doused in beautiful sunlight.

Mondstadt's seasons are predictable. So much so that the agricultural calendars only have at most a two-day margin of error. Spring isn't expected to arrive until a week later.

And yet...

The flowers are blooming happily, the crystalflies are dancing, and the animals are coming out of the woodwork. The windwheel asters are spinning at a more leisurely pace instead of their usual frenetic turns. Bud burst season arrives earlier than expected for both outdoor and indoor wineries. Grapevine buds swell until new green leaf tissue shoot up, ready to soak in the gentle warmth of spring.

Everyone has picked up on the fact that something is not quite right these days. They hold their breaths, thinking that the rain will pick up soon, like it always did.

Then a week passes by. Not a single drop of rain has fallen. Mondstadt has never had gentler weather before.

Cautious optimism soon turns to joy. The weather is nice enough to go swimming in Falcon Coast. Families are setting up picnics in Windrise Park. Maybe the outdoor wineries will have a good harvest this year! Maybe they can have a sunny day for the Windblume Festival!

For archons' sake, Venti hopes the good weather will last until the Windblume Festival. He worked his ass off to draw the sun out for as long as he can. V keeps badgering him to get some sleep, but what if the rain comes back again? Mondstadt is already putting up the usual festival decorations, and the flowers had looked so pretty and romantic.

The detective even came by last night with fresh cecilias and asked for an evening walk. An evening walk! With no mud or ugly raincoats to worry about! She listened patiently to all of Venti's ramblings that day — about how Anna brought valberry pie, about Venti's new theory on what an Eye of the Storm is made of (concentrated anemo energy left over by a hurricane), about how excited he is to experience a proper Windblume Festival.

Lumine raised an eyebrow at that. "You think it will stay sunny until the Windblume Festival? It's a month away. Mondstadt is not that lucky."

In the past two decades, Mondstadt held a sunny Windblume Festival for a total of six times. And even then, sunshine lasting the whole week of the event only happened twice.

"With a hurricane disappearing and all, maybe our luck is turning around."

"Or maybe we're using up all our luck. You better hope we don't run out before the festival then."

Venti simply smiled. He didn't need to rely on luck. He can make his own.

Once Lumine waved him goodbye and her car was out of sight, Venti sprinted back to the cliffs and played his flute. He'll make sure that this year's Windblume Festival will be sunny all week long.

Venti is still wearing the cecilias in his hair the next day.

The weather is so pleasant that even Carmen drops by to surprise Venti on his day off, instead of holing up in his dorm at Dornman Port, crying over his readings and essays. And as much as Venti wants to laze around in his bed and take a nap, Carmen is his little brother. He always dotes on his little brother.

They go on a day trip to Springvale. Carmen coos at the cecilias in Venti's hair and asks to take a picture. Carmen tears up at how much natural light there is that he brings out his instant film kamera.

"Here." He shakes the film and hands it to Venti. It's a selfie of the two of them posing in front of the cute cottages in Springvale. "Look how clear the picture is. And the colors! Archons, I've never seen Mondstadt so sunny before. I'm starting to think those old fairy tales weren't joking around after all. Springvale looks just like how the books described it."

Springvale is one of Mondstadt's cultural heritage sites alongside the Old Mondstadt Ruins. The knights have strict orders to preserve its ancient architecture, both for cultural conservation and for boosting the tourism industry. It became a popular dating spot and film site once the knights started advertising the romance of Springvale's medieval-style cottages and climbing flora.

To their credit, it's all authentically preserved and not the staged modern replicas you would find in an amusement park. Mostly.

Venti waves a hand and says, flatly, "Yeah, thank Barbatos and all that."

Carmen frowns at him. "I know you don't believe in all that stuff, but can you at least try to sound sincere when you invoke the archon's name like that? V would be very upset with you."

"I wasn't being blasphemous or anything. Didn't I just thank him? I know you're a church boy Carmen, but come on."

"Don't start a fight with me. I know society doesn't really encourage religious thinking… but who's to say the early spring isn't a blessing from Barbatos? You gotta admit, this is looking like a real miracle."

Venti sighs. Barbatos wasn't the one who calmed the winds. Barbatos wasn't the one who spent every night playing his flute on the cliffs so the crystalflies would flap their wings just so — enough to interfere with whatever the eastern winds are cooking up. His laptop almost took a nosedive yesterday when Venti nudged it too far while trying to read the weather simulations to make sure he's instructing the crystalflies right.

He'd like to see Barbatos do even a fraction of what Venti is doing. It's not easy!

But it's not like Carmen knows that.

"Alright, alright, don't be upset." Venti pinches Carmen's cheek. "I'll do you a favor, so stop pouting. Go over there and get ready to take the shot. They won't leave even if your kamera flashes."

Confused, Carmen dutifully stands near the flowerbed and prepares his kamera while Venti sits on the wooden bench beside him. He's tempted to just sink into the sturdy wood and close his eyes for a bit, just for five minutes. But then Carmen would worry and feel bad that he dragged Venti to this outing, and Venti can't have that.

Venti whistles.

Two crystalflies approach the flowerbed. One of them lands on the flower, slowly flapping its wings like its breathing. The other dances around its partner to the whistling tune of Happy Birthday.

Carmen watches, wide-eyed and entranced. He leans forward and takes a shot. And another. And another. The crystalflies continue dancing as if they weren't bombarded by three flashes of blinding light.

The crystalflies leave as soon as the film develops and Venti stops whistling. A gentle breeze picks up around them.

"Dude," Carmen whispers, still awestruck by the pictures. "You've gotten soooo much better at this. Do you know how hard it is to get a good picture of a crystalfly? They always run away too fast! Even faster than butterflies! You're like a bonafide crystalfly whisperer."

Venti almost winces when he stands up. Whoosh goes the world. He plants his feet down. He can't sway in place.

"I've been practicing," Venti says. "Gotta have a good party trick, or else Percy will show me up with those sleight-of-hand card tricks of his."

"Or I'll upstage you with my songs."

Venti can't even argue with that. Carmen's songs are always a show-stealer in the taverns.

By sunset, Carmen has amassed forty photos, a philanemo plushie, and two cartoonish Barbatos charms that will surely go with his fifty other charms in the collection. Both religious and commercial.

He meant to give the other charm to Venti. But Venti politely declined, citing that Barbatos would appreciate it if a true believer like Carmen took care of the charm. It would have collected dust in Venti's room anyway.

Venti forgets to pretend once they settle down at a cafe. Immediately after ordering (pasta and the house blend spritz, because of course he has to try the local cocktail), Venti sinks into his seat, slumped over the table.

"You look dead on your feet," Carmen observes. The giant philanemo plushie flops on his lap. Venti stops himself from asking if he can use it as a pillow. "Is it work? You know V would let you take a vacation leave. She's practically begging."

Carmen looks at him with big, round eyes. Venti sighs and sits up straight so his brother can take him seriously.

"Nah, it's just that we walked around all day. I'm not used to it. I sit on a chair the whole day every day in the Met Center."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. You're rarely home, so I'm always happy to spend time with you. It's worth it."

Venti smiles. That one isn't even a lie.

Carmen's voice is soft. "Me too. College is driving me crazy, so I'm glad we can hang out today. And on a sunny day too! I didn't want to waste such good weather…"

People say that talking about the weather is considered small talk. But in Mondstadt, a day like this is worth all the deep conversations and good memories. There is even the prevailing superstition of "dandelion dreams" where if you blow a dandelion on a clear, cloudless night, your wish will come true.

Of course, it's the kind of urban legend that nobody believes in, but they participate in it all the same just to show their appreciation of a good evening weather. Social customs are strange like that.

When they were nineteen, Venti and Carmen blew dandelions from the cliffs of Stormbearer Mountain. Venti does not lead a complicated life, nor does he want for much, so his wish had been simple. He heard that wind-fermented dandelion wine is the sweetest and most exquisite of them all, so he whispered to the dandelions if he could have a bottle of it.

To this day, it is still his greatest wish. To this day, he hasn't had a sip of dandelion wine.

Most of Mondstadt hasn't, except perhaps for the Ragnvindrs. Perfectly good wine requires a mild spring season with no inclement weather to speak of, an equally warm summer, and a dry fall before the harvest. These conditions allow for even ripening and optimal levels of sugars, acid, and tannins.

Excessive rain saturates the vines and encourages fungal growth. Mildew eliminates the grapes' flavors and makes them taste moldy. Harsh storms can devastate vineyards altogether.

Luckily, Mondstadt is a resilient nation. Grapes evolved and agricultural technology has improved over the years to allow decent wine to be made from indoor wineries, where the plants are given ample protection from storms and the environmental conditions are controlled to perfection. In many ways, the technology allowed for small and medium-sized businesses to pop up, diversifying the wine market.

But Mondstadt is also a romantic nation. Some wineries, when they can afford it, will set up a small plot of land for a traditional outdoor vineyard in the hopes of creating liquid gold. A true, wind-fermented dandelion wine.

The Ragnvindrs own the oldest outside winery in Mondstadt, but even their estate hasn't produced quality dandelion wine in years. And they should know, because they also own the most ancient vintage wine bottles. The ones that house authentic dandelion wine from the past.

For Venti, dandelion wine is the ultimate dream. If asked, he would confess that all the effort he put into fine-tuning their weather models, all the late nights he spent training and choreographing crystalflies, all the hiding and secrecy, all of it is for that sweet, sweet taste of dandelion wine.

Dandelion wine means outside wineries and blooming flowers. Dandelion wine means sunny Windblume Festivals and late night walks with sharp detectives and taking colorful selfies with his brother. Dandelion wine is the promise of a simple, carefree life.

But Carmen doesn't have simple wishes like Venti.

Venti reaches out to hold his brother's hand. "Hey Carmen, if the sun continues to shine in Mondstadt like this, do you think your dandelion dream will come true?"

Carmen is the idealistic kid who dreams of traveling and singing songs and leading a charming life of artistry. He will be graduating soon with his literature degree. If he doesn't get the chance to act on his dreams, he might have to swallow the bitter pill and work a corporate job, or leave the country to pursue his fantasy of living like a bard elsewhere.

And Carmen loves Mondstadt.

"Pfft, you know that's not gonna happen. Weather this good never lasts long."

"But what if it did? Come on, you're the poet here. Indulge me with your imagination."

Carmen shrugs a heavy sigh. Better to go along with it. "Hm, maybe? I think if we had weather like this all the time, I could join the Wanderer's Troupe. I heard they're looking for a playwright, and maybe together we can set up open theaters again. Mondstadt used to have a lot of those. But come on, Venti. Even I know that's a pipe dream."

"You should dare to dream more, Carmen." Venti squeezes his hand. "If today is looking like a real miracle, why can't we ask for that everyday?"

Carmen bristles. "You don't think I tried asking for it everyday? You don't think I pray for it?" He pulls his hand back, startling both himself and Venti at the sudden loss of contact.

Silence weighs heavily between them.

And then, the fight leaves him just as it came. Deflated, Carmen looks away and melts into the embrace of his phileanemo plush. "No, sorry, let's not get into this. I don't want to fight."

"…Yeah. Let's end this day on a good note. Tell me about how college is going for you. What are you up to these days?"

Carmen smiles at him gratefully. “Oh, we’re preparing an exhibit for the Windblume Festival! I’m doing research on a bunch of obscure myths and legends for it. Have you heard about Heart’s Desire? It’s a collection of fantasy stories centered around a mysterious antique shop that was widely popular during the Old days. I think you’ll like it. Actually, we should try out some of the urban legends from the book. They say that if you close your eyes and walk around the fountain…”

This... this is safe. Tomorrow, Carmen will go back to Dornman Port and Venti will stay in Stormbearer Point. It's best not to rehash old arguments. As much as Venti loves his brother, they can never see eye-to-eye when it comes to certain things.

Fortunately their food arrives, breaking the tension in the air. Venti can never be angry with Carmen, never likes fighting with Carmen, so they quickly fill the silence with safer topics. They're both laughing before dessert arrives, and all is well and good. Carmen slides their selfie across the table as a peace offering.

The spritz tastes like it came from an indoor winery, though with the cheap price tag Venti should have expected that. If the archons are real, he prays that all this hard work would finally pay off and he can taste a true wind-fermented dandelion wine from an outdoor winery, nurtured by the gentle weather of the Thousand Winds. He wants an expensive bottle, like the one from the Ragnvindr's estate.

He takes another sip of his pathetic spritz and amends his prayer. Scratch that, he doesn't need prayer. Why wait for an absentee archon when he can hire someone to do the job?

He shoots Parsifal a quick text.

VENTI: heyyyyyy. you bored?

VENTI: i know you're not really open for business, but i got a sick job for you

PARSIFAL: What's in it for me?

VENTI: it'll be fun?

VENTI: you'll make me happy

PARSIFAL: ...

VENTI: you'll be stealing from the rich

VENTI: and lil old me deserves a reward

PARSIFAL: ...Unfortunately, you DO deserve a reward :/

PARSIFAL: Fine. What am I stealing?

VENTI: [worlds_most_expensive_vintage.jpg]

VENTI: vintage dandelion wine from the dawn winery's cellar

PARSIFAL: Archons...

PARSIFAL: Okay, but you're sharing this with the team. They deserve a reward too.

VENTI: of course!! i was planning on sharing anyway!

VENTI: with you, the team, maybe even the detective...

VENTI: anyway, thanks. you're the best, therion

PARSIFAL: You're lucky you're lovable, brat.

Luck has nothing to do with it.

Venti lost days of sleep monitoring the eastern sea, decimating Cimeries into nothing, and bringing a week's worth of sun. He worked hard for this weather.

He absolutely deserves that vintage dandelion wine.

Chapter Text

PROFILE: VERDANT COURT

SUMMARY

Zealots of Barbatos that subscribe to non-canonical texts. Inspired by the fables of Barbatos toppling tyrannical reigns during Mondstadt's time of need, the Court aims to summon Barbatos and the Thousand Winds to protect Mondstadt and purge corruption from the ranks. They frequently conduct rituals of ecstasy involving wine and drugs as an expression of freedom.

The organization is made up of men and women alike, most of them coming from a background of literature, theater, or music. Leadership seems to be made up of a coven of witches.

ACTIVITY (UPDATED)

24y ago | Rumors of a new coven of witches circulated in Dornman Port. Members consisted of faculty and students of Mondstadt University. No organized criminal activity, but members were convicted for minor legal offenses such as stalking, driving under the influence, disorderly conduct in public areas (indecent exposure, public intoxication), unlawful possession of illegal materials (artifacts and spell books), and defacement of property.

23y ago | The coven organized into a cult calling itself the "Verdant Court." Criminal activity escalated to kidnapping, attempted brainwashing, armed robbery, drug trafficking, and conducting public rituals.

18y ago | Literature student Veiga went missing after allegedly engaging in witchcraft and orchestrating the murder of Parsifal Landrich under orders of the Court. Validity of these accusations, made by Eberhart Landrich, remain unconfirmed. Rumor has it that Veiga jumped from the cliffs of Stormbearer Mountains, though no body was recovered.

16y ago | Lair found under the ruins of the Thousand Winds Temple. The Windblumes assisted the Knights of Favonius in the takedown operation.

 6y ago | Members escaped from a widespread breakout from the penitentiary. Most were put back to their cells, but the elder witches are still on the loose.

 2y ago | Dead body of an elder witch found, possibly fell from the cliffs of Cape Oath. The witch was smiling and clutching a purse of unknown origins. For three months, Mondstadt's walls were constantly vandalized with the words, "HARK! THE WINDS HAVE RETURNED. BARBATOS IS COMING!" The knights speculated that this was a recruitment call that took advantage of Hurricane Leraje's recent destruction.

 2y ago | Four missing persons cases related to the Court. All fit the same profile: young, either late teens or early twenties, dark hair, musically inclined, had a background in literature or theater.

 1y ago | Windblumes managed to close three cases with the help from tips received from an anonymous source. Two rescued, one found catatonic, and one still missing.

 2d ago | Possible ritual lair located in Dadaupa Village. Young man sighted, matching the profile of the missing persons cases.

 6h ago | Identity confirmed. Attempting rescue operation of missing student Damian Lange...

※

According to the non-canonical holy texts, the Thousand Winds have been collected and hidden away by a powerful witch just before Barbatos stepped down from his position as the Anemo Archon.

Barbatos was a god who rarely showed himself, but his presence was felt by the people of Mondstadt in all the years he was away. The nature of his relationship with the Thousand Winds is unclear. Some versions of the holy texts mention that Barbatos was a strand of the Thousand Winds, while others say he was their keeper. Others, still, consider Barbatos as an independent being that was granted control of the winds by mastering a divine artifact, such as the Holy Lyre der Himmel.

Barbatos's true nature is equally contested. Sometimes he is depicted as a curious wind wisp bringing wind and wine, other times as a winged god promising protection and freedom, and other times as a human bard singing songs and living among men.

His story was not like the other gods. Certainly not like Rex Lapis, whose history was recorded in perfect detail before it was summarily censored after the revolution. There is more than enough vagueness in Barbatos's mythology even before the revolution that allowed the public to fill in the gaps with their imagination. There is not much to say about Barbatos as an entity, but there is plenty to say about the values he shared and the stories he penned.

These days, Barbatos is considered a god of fiction more than a true god of the past. Ironically, this is perhaps the reason why the Church of Barbatos continues to exist today in secular society. One can argue that the church deifies the tenets of freedom and responsibility more than the god himself.

Unfortunately, this also lends to Mondstadt's unique profile for criminal activity. Fontaine has her art frauds and identity thefts, Liyue is cracking down on money laundering and merchants taking advantage of wide economic divide, Inazuma is plagued with gang wars, and Sumeru is battling with a severe case of disinformation from the Akademiya.

Mondstadt? Mondstadt has cults.

Most of them are fanciful, incompetent, and generally a nuisance that the knights can take care of. Lacking in magic, they are your run-of-the-mill criminals dabbling in kidnapping, robbery, and sometimes arson — only this time, they indulge in the aesthetics of dark robes and theatrical ceremonies.

Those who understand how to wield magic, however, are much more elusive and much more dangerous.

Which is why Lumine finds herself knocking down the residents of an abandoned library in Dadaupa Village. The building had been slated for demolition, but the order was canceled on account of a museum curator's protest to preserve Mondstadt's old architecture. There was no follow-up for renovations.

Sunlight filters through the windows as Lumine zip ties the bodies of the cultists, four of them in total. They will remain unconscious until Adelinde wakes them up for interrogation, and then the proper authorities can take them away.

This isn't all of the Verdant Court, after all. From what Lumine gathered, the library acts more like a safe house for some of their members. Adelinde will get the information they need on the other cells of the organization.

Today's weather report is the same as yesterday: sunny with a low chance of drizzle. Yet, for all of Mondstadt's good luck, Lumine merely peers at the bright sky with suspicion. For the first time in days, she can see clouds forming in the horizon.

But they don't promise rain.

Lumine's not sure if she should consider this a boon or a curse. On one hand, pleasant weather like this guarantees that she doesn't have to worry about getting soaked and leaving mud tracks. On the other, the fog and the rain usually provide decent cover for her when she doesn't want to be seen or heard. Not to mention the unpredictability. It's easier to sneak around when you know that it will keep raining for the rest of the day, instead of anticipating a change of plans due to a sudden change in weather.

A week of sunshine this early into the calendar must be a sign of good things.

Damian Lange has been missing for more than a year. Lumine finds him alone in a gazebo at the back of the library gardens, hopped up on some kind of substance while he strums his lyre, humming to himself. His eyes are glazed over and his smile is loopy, but he is not thin and malnourished like Lumine expected. The Court kept him fed and hydrated and healthy, a little dove in a golden cage.

The Verdant Court is known for their love of white doves.

Rain sets an appropriate mood for this line of work. Somehow, watching Damian dance to the elegant tune of his lyre under the bright light of the sun feels much more ominous.

He sings, cheerily, "Mondstadt is like a bird that yearns for the sky; a winged creature, helpless, with no way to fly. They are yet to find that which is most important; though they flap their wings, their flight is doomed to discordance."

Lumine recognizes the fable. It is a long forgotten riddle about the Anemo Archon, but records of how the rest of the fable ends has been lost to time. The Church of Barbatos tells stories about how the Anemo Archon eventually helped the birds learn how to fly, though the details of how are never revealed. The ambiguity further adds to the mythology and fictionalization of Barbatos.

But the Verdant Court does not believe in fiction. To them, Barbatos is real. If Mondstadt is a flightless bird, he will teach them how to fly again. The Court only needs to bring him back.

Lumine steps loudly into the gazebo, making her presence known. The lyre falls silent.

"Oh, is it time already?" Damian asks, oblivious to the sudden silence from the library, or how Lumine is not even dressed like the rest of the Court, though perhaps her white dress can pass as a substitute for the teal-lined, hooded white cloaks the Court loves to don. Supposedly, they're inspired from the forms wind wisps took in the past.

Damian glides towards Lumine, excited. He bounces in place, unable to keep still. "Is it time? Is it time? Am I going to be god this time? I drank the wine today. I know we failed last week, maybe because we didn't have the Lyre der Himmel, but I should be ready now! It's been sunny for too long. If we do it now, the winds will come back, right?"

Lumine chokes on her words. This scene is a little bit too familiar for her liking. She uttered similar words herself, once upon a time. Aether still slips into it sometimes when he's under extreme duress, when he “remembers” things that Lumine doesn’t. The hooks the Abyss Order has on them have never gone away completely.

So this is what the Court is planning.

Damian looks at her expectantly. Hopeful. Lumine can't help the pitying expression on her face.

"Young Master," she says, recalling how one of the Court members referred to him. "Preparations are still being made. We will be leaving soon, with friends who will keep you safe."

"Friends? Oh, you mean the Anemoi!"

Lumine holds back a grimace. The Anemoi is another name for the Thousand Winds. "Yes. In the meantime, I have some questions for you, Young Master. Do you mind?"

"Like, another test?" Damian tilts his head to the side. The heel of his right foot taps the floor, erratic. "Do I get more wine if I get them right? I haven't had one in a while and the world is getting duller. Everything is too sharp and I— I need... I'm almost…"

His hand is cold, but Lumine holds it anyway to steady him. "Can you tell me your name?"

Damian doesn't remember his name.

"I'm just the Young Master," he says instead, trying to be helpful. Damian furrows his eyebrows, like he doesn't understand how his name has any relevance. "Only when the ritual is done will I earn my name: Barbatos."

The grip on his hand tightens.

Lumine read the files before this operation. Even if the Young Master doesn't remember himself, Lumine knows that this is the missing literature student, Damian Lange.

It will be hard for his parents to see him like this.

Laws on heresy has loosened up over the years since Jean became Grand Master. Not all witches are forces of evil, and victims of cults deserve better treatment. But it's hard to sway public opinion in light of this country's history with kidnappings and cult defectors. The Crimson Witch of Flames is from Mondstadt. The influence of the Verdant Court, and even the Abyss Order, still lurks in the shadows to this day.

It is, at least, better now than when Lumine and Aether first stepped foot in Mondstadt. They were born into a cult in Khaenri'ah that followed the Voice of the Abyss, until Diluc and the underground spy network he affiliated himself with rescued them and systematically dismantled that specific cell of the Order.

With the laws of that time, Aether and Lumine wouldn't have been citizens of Mondstadt, so Diluc welcomed them in the Ragnvindr estate instead.

There's very few places that will ensure your safety when you've been indoctrinated by a cult. Lumine wasn't able to shake off the way she was programmed to listen to the Voice until she was thirteen. It took Aether longer; sometimes, when he compartmentalizes too much to the point of dissociation, he finds himself seeking the Voice out.

Citizens of Mondstadt are required to report victims of witchcraft and the occult to the knights. But the knights are too used to operating out in the open and are ill-equipped to handle cases that require sensitivity and secrecy, especially with victims under the influence of brainwashing and intoxication, like Lumine suspects Damian is under.

"Did I answer wrong?" Damian asks, suddenly fearful. He fidgets with the winged wisp pendant on his bracelet. It lacks the starsilver finishing that is usually embossed in these charms. "I'm sorry! I should have said that my name is already Barbatos, right? I'll— I'll do better. I'll practice the lyre some more. Just please don't take away the wine tonight. Please. I can't— without it, I— I'm not—"

"Hey, hey," Lumine says, taking on a calm and placating tone. "You didn't do anything wrong. You're not going to be punished."

"I should be. They're all counting on me and I can't fail them! The others couldn't handle it and I'm the only one. If I don't, they'll find— hurt someone else, and I'm trying but I'm— I can't—"

Lumine shakes her head vehemently. She wants to hug this kid and tell him that everything will be okay, that everything is over and he'll return to a life of normalcy. But that might not be the comfort he needs right now. It might set him off. Some victims like it, when they are aware of their situation. But Damian isn't that kind of person; he's much more like Lumine was. Like Aether. He's not in the right headspace for it yet.

"Young Master," she says firmly, placing both hands on his shoulders to ground him. "Why don't you play the lyre again while we wait for our friends?"

Damian nods, glad to have something to do. Something he knows he can do right.

The situation leaves a hollow emptiness in Lumine's chest.

It doesn't take long for the other Windblumes to arrive. Albedo heads straight to Lumine, with Klee in tow, leaving the rest of the Court members to Moco and Hillie. Lumine introduces Damian and allows Klee to entertain him while she catches Albedo up to speed.

Klee is not yet a mature witch, but she is the only one that affiliates herself with the Windblumes, unlike Mona and Alice who are aligned with the Hexenzirkel and act more like independent collaborators and allies. Klee is a Mondstadter through and through. The Windblumes' very own Red Velvet mage.

"Hi, are you Lumine's new friend? My name is Klee. What's yours? You seem very good at playing the lyre."

Damian stills, unsure of what to make of his new companion. Eventually, he relaxes a little when Klee asks him to play a song.

Klee has always been good with people. She has a way of making someone feel included and safe. Those who are unhappy surely have their reasons for being sad, and Klee's mission in life is to give everyone the happiness they want the very very most.

"So what's your initial assessment?" Albedo asks, once Lumine finishes relaying the situation. It's how they prefer to conduct their debriefs. Start with the objective facts, no speculation until all the available data is laid out on the metaphorical table.

Lumine lowers her voice. "Brainwashed, wine is probably laced with drugs. It checks out with the Court's previous M.O. Either they're planning a ritual to sacrifice Damian to summon Barbatos, or they want Barbatos to possess him. Or they think he really is Barbatos and they're looking for a way to 'awaken' him, if not just outright mold him into thinking he's a god. Which would be more useful if they're looking for a figurehead. Adelinde will get it out of them when she interrogates the others." Lumine sighs. This day is already exhausting. "What about you? Any news on Mona?"

Mona would know what to do with Damian. With her connections, she might even know what's going on with the Verdant Court. Matters of the occult is her specialty.

"No. She's probably not in Mondstadt, or else I would have seen signs of her presence by now." Albedo shrugs, nonchalant, and takes a sip of his thermos, which likely contains a ridiculous amount of caffeine. "I have another trick up my sleeve, though. I'll try to contact her again, once I finish reviewing the diagrams and get a solid six hours. I might not be online for a few days."

They haven’t been in contact with Mona for almost two years. Lumine eyes Albedo from the side. If he's planning his schedule around what he considers a good night's worth of sleep, then things are either fine enough that he can spare a few hours to relax instead of diving into his many side projects, or his plan is a really really bad idea and he knows. The extra sleep is to prepare him for the inevitable damage control.

"Those better be engineering diagrams, Albedo."

"I would argue that they are." Albedo waves her off. "Back to the topic at hand. The Court will be looking for someone to replace Damian. I'll ask the knights to increase security in Mondstadt University. I believe two of the previous victims were literature students as well."

The one who was in a coma wasn't in literature. He studied viticulture.

"And also," Albedo continues. "Maybe we should do the same for the Meteorology Center."

The Windblumes have been following the Verdant Court's movements for decades. Now that they have a lead and Lumine has reviewed the case files, it's becoming clear that the mystery of Cimeries's disappearance is not an isolated case like they once thought.

Vind already suspected that Leraje was an anomaly in the weather, just like Cimeries. A witch was found dead during Hurricane Leraje. The Court's previous attempt to call Barbatos using Damian as a sacrifice occurred during Cimeries's appearance as well.

Not to mention the unresolved "murder" of one Parsifal Landrich, who is now hiding in the Meteorology Center under the uninspired alias "Percy."

Do the rituals call the winds? Were there rituals during Marbas and Leraje as well?

There's not enough evidence for it, but the events must be related. Coincidences don't exist in the world of the supernatural, and somehow, the Stormwatcher Society is caught up in the thick of it.

"I'll keep an eye on them, don't worry," Lumine assures Albedo. "And they have Kazuha with them. He would never put people in danger."

From the other side of the garden, Klee asks Damian to show her how he does his braids. There's the beginning of a tremor in his hands that wasn't present before. He looks up to Lumine and asks if he can have wine now. He's been good this whole time, hasn't he?

The thought that another person is suffering through what she and Aether had makes Lumine's heart ache.

And if they don't put a stop to this, there could be another victim in the future.

The hair is only half right, his body is too tall, and his eyes have the wrong shade of green, but he's close enough. If Damian sobers up a little, if his eyes are just a touch sharper, if he looks at Lumine imploringly like he's holding a secret he wants her to unravel, he would uncannily resemble Venti.

As if a spell descended upon the nation, Mondstadt responds to its good fortune in weather with Dionysian frenzy. The nation is abuzz with activity, from fervent preparations for the Windblume Festival, to setting up open vineyards in the hopes of brewing dandelion wine in time for Weinlesefest in autumn.

Mondstadt sure does love its festivals.

Barbara even holds an impromptu open concert in Dornman Port, much to the city's delight. Aether loudly makes his displeasure of this fact known to Albedo and Lumine the next day. Unfortunately, he is stationed in Sumeru for an undercover mission and has gone dark three months ago. Trust Barbara, the nation's darling idol, to get him to open communications during a sensitive mission just to complain that he wasn't able to see her perform live. Again.

"Wanderer wouldn't understand," Aether bemoans. "He doesn't follow these things, he's all about finishing the mission, ugh, so my complaints just bounce off. It's like talking to a wall. You two are the only ones who get it, okay!"

Aether is diligent with his work, but everyone has their weakness. Diluc would have a fit if he finds out how easy it actually is to get Aether to compromise a black ops.

Another day of sunshine. There has never been a more pleasant day to visit Windrise Park than today. Mondstadters are setting up hot-air balloons. They haven't done that in four years.

If anything else, the lack of rain makes it easier for Lumine to stalk her target. (There's no need to sugarcoat the words. Stalking people has always been part of the job.)

"Venti?" she asks, feigning surprise. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at work?"

Venti smiles at the intrusion. He's sitting under an oak tree in Windrise Park — not Vennessa's Tree, but one of the smaller ones off to the side of the bike trail that leads to Falcon Coast. He's in the process of making a garland out of the windwheel asters that surround him. 

"I wanted to see the hot air balloons. V gave me a day off when I told her it's going to be sunny all day anyway," he justifies, as if predicting the weather with such certainty is that simple. Maybe for him, it is.

It's something to think about, to pin later in the evidence board. As far as Lumine knows, he hasn't gone out to sea in days. Hasn't had a reason to, apparently. There are no hurricanes to hunt.

Venti loops the garland of flowers around his arm and stifles a yawn. "Isn't it so nice to see Mondstadt like this? I've never seen everyone look so happy. Since we're both here, want to go for a ride, detective?"

"I can't. My shift starts in two hours. I was just on my way to work."

It's technically not a lie. While Lumine really did intend on checking up on Venti, she is also supposed to go back to the winery for her other job. She hasn't manned the bar in weeks and Connor has been complaining non-stop.

"You have another job?"

"Of course I do. For legal purposes; investigations are more of a side gig."

It's a necessary lie. Lumine considers her investigations as her primary job, and Diluc does pay her handsomely for her part in protecting Mondstadt. Bartending exists as a convenient cover, to keep up pretenses.

"That's fair. Can't exactly tell everyone that you work outside the law. If you don't have to go back yet, care to join me in my people-watching?"

They reassemble themselves into a comfortable position. Lumine leans against the trunk of the tree while Venti hangs upside down from a sturdy branch because the blood rushing to his head makes him forget he needs to sleep, or so he says.

Venti says a lot of shit, but the days Lumine spent with him taught her that most of the time, it's just for his own amusement. But even if the rest of the world doesn't take his mannerisms seriously, Venti certainly does. Venti is the kind of person who means what he says; he just dresses up his words in vague eccentricities.

During her research, Lumine pilfered a paper from the Meteorology Center's archives while Venti wasn't around. She had asked Anna to accompany her, because she's the newest and would have less reason to prevent Lumine from viewing certain documents.

One title caught Lumine's eye: a three-page article that Venti presented in an international weather conference two years ago.

Sommerfugle-Effekten: Does the flap of a crystalfly's wings in Natlan set off a hurricane in Inazuma?

It's an interesting thought experiment. Essentially, the paper posits that a small perturbation in the initial conditions of a weather system can result in significant changes later on. The thought experiment goes on to explore the scenario wherein if someone has perfect knowledge and control of all the initial conditions of a weather system, then it's possible to adjust the weather to their liking by influencing it through the flap of a crystalfly's wings.

It's the kind of idea that's a bit too out there to be considered seriously. So of course, it's Venti who writes a whole paper on it.

"Hypothetically," Lumine starts. "How does one kill a hurricane?"

Venti's eyes light up at the question. "Hm, hurricanes are like natural, self-sufficient engines. As long as there's wind and a sufficient source of heat, like the evaporation of a large body of warm water, it will survive and create a feedback loop that makes it grow stronger and larger."

"So if we take away the wind or the heat, the hurricane will die?"

Venti nods, picking off the petals from the string of windwheel asters hanging loosely off his arm. They float carelessly on the grass below. Flowers these days look a little too healthy and a little too vivid to be real.

Restless. Venti is always restless. Lumine catalogues this silently in her mind.

"You can't really do much about the water, so landfall is the easiest way to kill a hurricane," Venti says. "It takes away the main energy source and carries less moisture into the storm, since air masses over land are drier and contain more aerosol particles. Land surface also causes friction and reduces circulation, especially if there are mountain ranges to obstruct the storm's path."

Lumine thinks about the old legend of Barbatos terraforming the mountains. Supposedly, the archon did it to open up the arctic region for warmth and melt the snow away from Mondstadt. He could have flattened the lands all the way, but perhaps he left the tall cliffs to the east for a purpose.

He completely razed Pilos Peak into the small island it is today though. Was the mountain as cold as Mondstadt's blizzard before? Did the surrounding waters always sit at 27 degrees?

"Theoretically," Lumine continues, picking up the discarded petals off the ground. "If a hurricane moves towards a body of water that's colder, would that help?"

Venti knits his brows together. "Sure… but there isn't a body of water cold enough to do that in the eastern sea. The closest would be the front where the sea meets the band of water that separates Mondstadt's from Inazuma's. But you'd need an impossible amount of energy to move a hurricane there."

Or the easier method would be to bring the cold to the hurricane. The cryo energy in Musk Reef is starting to make sense. But where did it come from?

"I see. Rather than remove it from its source, is there a way to inhibit the intensification process?"

A pause. "…There is a way. It's theoretical, of course."

"Of course." Lumine gestures with the petals when Venti doesn't answer immediately. "Go on then. I'm listening. This is just a thought experiment, right? Suppose there is a way, what would that be?"

That's how Venti phrased it in his paper. Suppose there are two weather systems that differ only by the influence of a single crystalfly. Suppose that a flap of a crystalfly's wings is instrumental in the creation of a hurricane. Suppose, suppose…

Venti pouts at her from above. "You know, detective, you're like the only person I know who's mad to see the sun. The rest of Mondstadt doesn't mind. We could stand to have less rain."

It's an open, genuine expression of annoyance that is disproportionate to the current circumstance, almost as if Venti is personally affronted over something that is out of his control. Lumine files this reaction away in her head as well.

It's not like he summoned the sun for her.

Albedo once told her that, when left unchecked, she and Aether can be obsessive with their observations. But at least Lumine doesn't require deception like Aether does. Aether is a people-pleaser who dons a hundred different identities to craft the perfect person to mirror someone to. Wanderer from Sumeru's own spy circle is the same, which is why they work well together. It's what makes them good at undercover missions.

Lumine, however, is much more pragmatic and prefers to do things upfront and personal. She covers Venti's hand with her own and watches the irritation melt away from him.

"I wouldn't say I'm mad. I'm just curious," she says. "If Mondstadt's weather keeps up like this, I won't make progress with my case. I solve mysteries. It's what I do."

Lumine looks up to him, meeting his eyes. Even when he's upside down, the open affection in his face is clear.

Venti can be very easy to read.

"Yeah. It's admirable. I like that about you," Venti confesses. He lets out a huff, amused and defeated at the same time. "Fine, I can respect the curiosity. Well, theoretically, you can weaken a hurricane with strong vertical wind shear. If there's a sudden change in wind direction as altitude changes, it can cause the hurricane to tilt, allow drier environmental air to mix into the eye wall, and cause a downdraft that disrupts wind flow. This will weaken the hurricane. Keep at it long enough and it will kill it. If it was always there, the hurricane might never have formed in the first place. Here, I'll show you a cool trick."

Still upside down, he takes Lumine's hand and opens her palm up, revealing the crushed petals. Then, softly, he whistles a cute ditty. It's nothing like the complicated, elegant melodies of Damian's lyre. Venti's whistles, much like the tunes of his flute, are easy and plain. Almost child-like in their simplicity.

Charming, in its own way.

Two crystalflies approach Lumine's hand, circling, flapping their wings until the petals float in an upward spiral of air.

Then, with a change in tune, one of the crystalflies flaps their wings in a strong, horizontal motion. The column of air slants until the spiral breaks down, and the petals flutter in different directions.

If the flap of a crystalfly's wings can be instrumental in generating a hurricane, then it can, equally, be instrumental in preventing a hurricane.

"Sommerfugle-effekten," Lumine breathes out. Venti's paper might be more literal than she thought. "There's no way. Can you control the weather through a crystalfly?"

"Someone's been reading my papers. It's just a demonstration. It's a thought experiment for a reason. The atmosphere is not a controlled experiment that we can easily manipulate." Venti shrugs, though he can't help the grin splitting his lips. "You look like you want to arrest me now, detective."

"I'm not actually a knight. I can't make arrests. And besides, a thought experiment, no matter how possible, doesn't count as evidence."

"Is that what it takes? If I break a law, do we go on another date?"

"I can't exactly catch someone in the act of hurricane destruction if there are no hurricanes to destroy. Besides, I'm pretty sure that's not even considered a crime."

Venti drawls out a satisfied sigh. "Pity. Guess you should follow a different lead and figure out how those anomalous hurricanes keep occurring in the first place. Something is making them worse. It'll happen again, eventually. Otherwise, looks like your trail is going cold, detective."

There's still the Verdant Court to follow, but Venti doesn't know that. What Venti knows is that there's nothing Lumine hates more than a case going cold. Venti is a veritable wealth of information, a willing assistant, and, in his eyes, her only lead.

Venti looks at her expectantly.

But then he droops in his posture and blinks with tired eyes. Stifles a yawn. With her growing list of suspicions, Lumine re-evaluates where this fatigue is coming from.

Lumine flicks him on the forehead. "I wouldn't worry about that. Besides, whoever is messing with the weather will tire themselves out eventually. They should take a break, in my opinion. Mondstadt can handle a little rain."

For all his air of nonchalance, Venti's mind is razor sharp. He doesn't correct her that they don't know yet if Cimeries's destruction was caused by a person or not.

Surely, he knows she's on to him. Has been suspicious of him since the beginning of the case, even if most of her evidence is circumstantial at best. Is it that he just doesn't care? Does he want to get caught?

And suddenly, Lumine thinks with certain clarity, oh. He wants to be chased. He wants to be a secret, something to be discovered. A mystery to be unraveled.

Venti catches her hand before Lumine moves away. "And you can stand to bask in the sun more."

When Venti's grip on the branch loosens from exhaustion, he falls headfirst into Lumine's waiting arms. He blinks slow, valiantly trying to fight off his body's desire to nod off.

Lumine maneuvers Venti so he's lying on the grass with his head on her lap. She carefully examines him for pressure points and rubs circles on his wrist, pinches flesh between fingers. Venti lets her out of curiosity. Instantly, his body relaxes under her.

"Rest," she commands. "I'll call Kazuha and have someone take you home. You look like you'll fall asleep and miss your stop on the train."

Venti's eyes widen when he realizes he can't move his limbs. He doesn't protest, however, and simply makes himself comfortable next to Lumine.

"Okay," he agrees, rolling with it. Somehow, he looks even happier than he already was five minutes ago. "What did you do, though?"

"Tricking your body through pressure points. Your body will feel heavy for the next fifteen minutes. In that time, you can take a nap." It's a simple trick, but handy in Lumine's line of work. "Experts in Liyue can do something more complicated to help you sleep, but I only learned the basics while I was in Fontaine."

"Same place you learned how to use a gun?"

“Maybe.” Lumine smiles. “Someone’s been taking notes.”

“What can I say? I have a perfect memory. If I wanted to, I probably would’ve been a great archivist.”

Lumine slides her hand down his face, feeling the way his eyes close.

Ten minutes later, his breathing slows down and evens out.

Twenty minutes later, Parsifal arrives at Windrise Park to take a napping Venti home. He is grateful to find him resting, and thanks Lumine by showing her a few card tricks she can practice to impress her brother.

"Magic is seeing the difference between the initial condition and final condition while failing to discover the causal link between them," he tells her excitedly. Magic — the sleight-of-hand kind — seems to light something in his eyes the way weather does for Venti. "It's all about misdirection and deception. A magician's biggest advantage in tricking their audience is that they don't know what's going to happen yet. And if they carry false assumptions about how something works, the magician doesn't have to apply any extra layers of trickery."

It is a good thing, then, that Lumine deals with real magic and has a penchant for obsessively learning about everything around her.

He teaches her a couple of simple tricks. In the first one, he asks Lumine to choose and memorize a random card, then return it face down in the middle of the deck. It's the red Ace of Hearts.

"I don't know your card. But it doesn't matter, because your card will show itself to us. Now see here, even though you placed the card face down, and the rest of the cards are also face down—" and here, Parsifal flips the top card over, to show that indeed, the card is obviously face down. The Three of Spades shows up after the flip. "I can also just snap my fingers, spread out the cards here on the grass, and voila!"

The cards, neatly spread on the grass, are all face down and showing the red cardback, except for the Ace of Hearts.

Lumine smiles. Magic — the supernatural kind — is something she always has to defend herself against. This kind of magic, the type where she's supposed to be deceived, is way more fun.

"Yeah, that's my card. How'd you do that?"

Parsifal had secretly reversed two cards at the bottom of the deck to act as decoys, and flipped the deck in his hands when Lumine wasn't looking. It's an easy trick to learn, but when Lumine performs it, she is evidently less confident about it than Parsifal is. It is technically not that difficult to pull off, but tricking a trickster requires a more practiced performance than Lumine can deliver.

Once again, Lumine is reminded why it's Aether, and not her, who goes on missions with a million disguises and fake identities.

Parsifal shows her another trick where, with three snaps of his fingers, the red of the Ace of Hearts turns into inky black. Despite looking closely at Parsifal's hands, Lumine couldn't figure out when he switched the card.

"You won't experience magic if you can't see the difference between the initial and final conditions. Half the battle is getting you to see what you're not supposed to see, but the other half, and I would argue is the most important half, is getting you to appreciate that magic has occurred. The most important thing—" Parsifal smirks and splays his hands out and waves them, jazz hands style, "—is showmanship."

"I'm not the kind of person who likes to be in the spotlight," Lumine says wryly.

"That's important for vigilantes," Parsifal agrees. "You don't want to be seen. Magicians do, but they only want you to see what they want you to see."

Venti's sharp, imploring eyes flash across her mind. And some of them, Lumine thinks faintly, want you and only you to figure out everything.

Parsifal brought his car and lets Venti sleep in the back on the way home.

By the time Lumine returns to the Dawn Winery, a light drizzle showers over Mondstadt. She practices a few tricks at the bar. While she doesn't have the elegance or showmanship that Parsifal has, she does manage to delight a few customers.

※

Sommerfugle-Effekten: Does the flap of a crystalfly's wings in Natlan set off a hurricane in Inazuma?

Presented before the International Conference on Weather and Meteorology

It is generally acknowledged that the complexity of weather systems creates a wide margin of error in our ability to reliably predict the weather beyond a week's forecast. Even systems as large as thunderstorms can slip between weather stations.

Small errors in the finer structure of a weather system — such as the position of individual clouds, or the amount of anemo or hydro energy present in the region — tend to grow rapidly and induce errors in the coarser structure. Errors in the coarser structure tend to double in about three days, rendering forecasts beyond that timeline to be inaccurate.

With this in mind, let me offer two propositions to put the question of this paper into perspective:

1. A single flap of a crystalfly's wings can be instrumental in generating a hurricane, more so if the crystalfly is charged with latent anemo or hydro energy. So, also, can all the previous and subsequent flaps of its wings, as can the flaps of the wings of millions of other crystalflies, not to mention the activities of innumerable more powerful creatures.
2. If the flap of a crystalfly's wings can be instrumental in generating a hurricane, then it can, equally, be instrumental in preventing a hurricane.

Suppose we have two weather systems that develop over the same initial conditions and differ only by something as minute as the immediate influence of a single crystalfly. After sufficient time has passed, will these two systems evolve dramatically in different directions such that they differ by as much as the presence of a hurricane? In more technical language, is the behavior of the atmosphere unstable with respect to perturbations of small amplitude?

The complexity of weather systems is seen as a problem of information. In theory, any system is predictable if we know all the variables that interact with it.

Suppose the answer to the question is affirmative. Since we do not know exactly how many crystalflies there are, nor where they are located, let alone which ones are flapping their wings at any instant, then we cannot accurately predict the occurrence of hurricanes at a sufficiently distant future time.

※

BREAKING NEWS: Phantom Thief THERION Declares Comeback With Calling Card

Posted 5h ago by @mondstadt_gazette

After 18 years of silence, Mondstadt's elusive phantom thief Therion hints at their upcoming public appearance with a calling card sent to the Knights of Favonius Headquarters declaring their intent to steal the Holy Lyre der Himmel from the Church of Barbatos. The heist is scheduled to happen tomorrow at 19:10, ten minutes after the evening mass concludes.

Despite the announcement, Seneschal Seamus Pegg confirmed that the evening mass will continue as normal. This decision is met with public outcry from fans of idol superstar Barbara, who is scheduled to make an appearance at the church while she is on break from her world tour.

The authenticity of the calling card is still being investigated, but the knights are preparing to increase security around the area. Due to the notoriety of Therion, citizens are advised to expect heavy traffic in the Central District.

"The Holy Lyre is an important artifact of Mondstadt's history," said Grand Master Jean. "It deserves the same amount of care and attention as any other cultural heritage. We will do our utmost to protect it, as well as all of Mondstadt's citizens."

Public opinion is divided. Secularists and vocal critics of the Church of Barbatos argue that the Holy Lyre der Himmel is a relic of the past and that national resources are being wasted on "frivolous efforts."

Most citizens, however, are excited to see Therion in action once again. Therion is known for abiding by their self-imposed rule of preventing harm to citizens during their spectacle-driven heists.

The Knights of Favonius caution the public that the thief might not necessarily be as gentlemanly as they once were before. "We haven't seen Therion in close to two decades. We can't confirm yet if this is the same thief as before," informed Captain Eula. "It's possible we're dealing with a copycat. There is no guarantee that they'll abide by the same rules as their predecessor."

The infamous phantom thief was last active 18 years ago and enjoyed six years of thievery, targeting the rich and powerful. To this day, they have never been caught.

※

Therion isn't a case the Windblumes are required to follow closely. Therion is flashy, performative, and a terrible match to the Windblumes who are used to covert operations.

There were cases where Therion stole magical artifacts, but their heist pattern suggests that they don't target for the magic. Rather, Therion discriminates on the people they steal from. Most of the time, Therion exposes corruption from those in power, and steals from individuals and families involved in white-collar crime. And they make sure that each heist is broadcasted to the public.

In a way, Therion's heists are a form of attention-seeking. The knights have used Therion's calling cards as a tip to investigate their targets for any criminal activity they might be hiding.

To Diluc's knowledge, Therion hasn't attempted to steal from the Ragnvindr estate, either because Therion deems the Ragnvindrs as clean, or because the Dawn Winery's security is impenetrable even for a renowned phantom thief. Regardless, Diluc takes it as a compliment.

Plus, frankly, Therion is a fan favorite amongst the Windblumes. Vile is especially fond of them.

So Therion is off-limits, and in the wider vigilante circle they are relegated more as entertainment than a true criminal that requires the hand of justice. The Windblumes themselves live in the same gray area in the eyes of the law.

Which is why Lumine is unsurprised to receive Do Not Engage instructions. With Diluc out of the country, Vile is left in charge of coordinating the rest of the Windblumes. In no uncertain terms, she instructs Lumine — and Aether, despite being stuck all the way in Sumeru — that they are not to get involved with Therion.

As if the twins would ever dream of interfering. In Lumine's opinion, Therion would have made a wonderful addition to the Windblumes if they ever decide to give the solo gig a rest. They would fit right in.

Besides, Lumine has her own cases to solve.

She's dutifully writing up her report on Damian's rescue in the library of the Ragnvindr manor when Albedo walks in and announces, "Someone bugged the servers of the Meteorology Center."

"Magic or engineering?" Lumine asks. She eyes the tablet and heavy books Albedo drops on the table as he takes the seat beside her. There are drawings of constellations and perfect circles amongst the digital sketches.

That can't be good. She knows a summoning circle when she sees one.

"Magic. I recognized it because it's the one Mona uses when she's feeling generous enough to help us," Albedo continues. "She put the same tracking bug in our systems last time too. I spent three weeks disabling it, so I know how to disable this one as well. But the thing is, the one on the Meteorology Center has been there for years. I don't even know how long exactly, and clearly, the Stormwatcher Society has no idea that they're being tracked either. I only found out because someone did a manual update of the tracker four months ago. It was a clean job, almost left no traces."

If it was anyone else, someone who had no experience with magical trackers, they wouldn't have found out. The only reason it was left undetected for so long is because Albedo didn't know to look for it until now.

Who's spying on the Meteorology Center? The Verdant Court, or someone else?

"Do we know where the data is going?"

"It's sending signals to random locations in the eastern sea." Albedo brings up a map on the screen on his own tablet. The sea is littered with red circles on the water. "There doesn't seem to be a pattern. But the last location coincides with where the Haar Islands was last located. Mona should have a list of the Haar Islands' coordinates over the years, but…"

"If she's busy, she's busy. That's just how it is. I do have a hunch though. This—" Lumine points to a red circle on the tablet, "—is roughly near Cimeries when it formed. Maybe it wasn't the first time a storm formed near the Haar Islands. Either the Haar Islands are intensifying the storms, or—"

"—someone is spying on the Meteorology Center to figure out where the next storm is brewing."

"If that's true, that means we really are dealing with a powerful witch. The Hexenzirkel can move the islands around, but they might not be the only ones. We don't know how the Verdant Court plays in all of this."

Albedo pinches the bridge of his nose. "I really should speed up the search for Mona, then."

It should sound like a complaint, but Albedo never complains. He likes the challenge of it. He and Mona have been dancing around each other through roundabout debates and riddles and some extreme version of Windtrace. Last time, Albedo had to do a major overhaul of his surveillance systems before he caught Mona sipping tea on a floating island above Falcon Coast.

The summoning circles are new. Lumine pats Albedo on the shoulder.

"Good luck with that. Did you find anything else of note that could have happened four months ago?"

"Yes. Kazuha was hired. And considering that the trackers are magic, he's likely the only person from the Stormwatcher Society who could have done it. I didn't find any footage of an outsider sneaking into the building for it."

Lumine nods, already firing a text to Kazuha. "I'll talk to him tomorrow. He owes me one anyway."

Predictably, Lumine can't catch him alone without Parsifal or Venti hanging around. But he invites her to meet up with them tomorrow in Favonius Hall. Apparently, they're curious to see Therion's heist in person. There's a cafe at the top floor of the annex building that gives a bird's eye view of the Church of Barbatos and the plaza below.

Vile never said that Lumine isn't allowed to spectate the heist. It's about time she finds out what the hell Kazuha's doing here instead of gallivanting around Liyue.

In the far distant past, the Church of Barbatos was once called the Church of Favonius. Or rather, the physical church, the cathedral that makes up the Church of Favonius, used to be where the followers of Barbatos congregated for worship.

The cathedral (now renamed to Favonius Hall) has been renovated into a mall and activity center. There are less believers of the faith these days, so the current Church of Barbatos now gather in a building that pales in grandness compared to its predecessor.

With the towering statue of the Anemo Archon gone from the plaza, a smaller Statue of the Seven representing Barbatos in his winged form stands guard in front of the modest church instead. It is one of the four remaining statues of its kind.

The cafe Kazuha chose is a good one, and the tables even better. Right across the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the plaza, they have the perfect view of the Church of Barbatos below. A crowd has gathered in the plaza, not to worship, but to witness the upcoming heist from Therion.

The heist isn't scheduled to happen for another half hour, but Parsifal and Anna are already glued to the window while Venti takes a nap at their table. Clouds loom overhead. They promise rain, but not for another few hours.

Lumine and Kazuha sequester a separate table from the rest of the group for privacy. Kazuha chuckles when he catches her studying Venti's sleeping form. She doesn't even try to hide it.

"You're doing it again."

"I don't know what you mean, Kazuha."

"I've been with them for a while now. Venti's a good kid, and he's obviously enamored with you." Kazuha takes a slow sip of his tea. "I would prefer if you don't break his heart over a case."

Lumine arches an eyebrow. "You don't think I'm being sincere?"

"I wouldn't say that. You like your mysteries. But you also get bored once you figure them all out."

Kazuha knows her all too well. Perhaps it's because of their upbringing — trust and commitment are hard to foster when you've defected from a cult and grew up training for a job that requires secrecy and discretion — but Lumine and Aether are flighty people by nature. They hop from one attraction to the next, never staying in one place or with one person for too long.

In another life, had they grown up in kinder environments, they could have found happiness by traveling all over the world.

It's why they are made for the vigilante lifestyle. Kazuha understands that too. Wanderlust and solving mysteries are what keeps them going, and what pushes them apart from other people.

"If he keeps being interesting, then it won't be a problem, would it? I like figuring things out, and he wants to be figured out." Lumine shrugs. "Speaking of figuring things out, we should talk about what you're doing here. We don't have a conflict of interest, do we?"

Unless they've garnered trust, it's rude to ask another vigilante about their client. And while Lumine had worked with Kazuha enough times that she trusts his character, the same can't always be said for who he works with.

At least with the Windblumes, Lumine knows that everyone is aligned on the same mission, and that they all check in with each other. Diluc vets them all regularly.

Kazuha sometimes hangs around with the Crux Fleet and sometimes he wanders alone, doing odd jobs and traveling by himself or working for an occasional client or two. He usually sticks around Liyue and Inazuma for these contracts, unless a truly special assignment catches his eye.

"Technically, we're not in conflict," Kazuha confirms. He rubs his thigh absent-mindedly; Lumine’s own wounds from Musk Reef were shallow enough that they're starting to heal, but Kazuha’s must still be bruising. "Figuring out what's making the hurricanes go haywire would benefit my client. So I won't get in your way, but I can't really share intel with you either. My client is very… particular about how they want things to proceed. They're a good person, and their goals generally align with yours, but this isn't about duty or justice for them. They have something personal at stake."

There is a commotion in the plaza as the time of the heist draws near. Parsifal taps his foot impatiently by the window as he listens to Anna's excited chatter. He doesn't have cards to fiddle with his hands tonight.

"Is it Percy?" Lumine asks. Kazuha can't tell her anything, but guessing is fair game. "Did he hire you as a bodyguard?"

"Close, but not quite. I am supposed to keep them out of harm's way though. Venti is a lot more slippery, so I appreciate that you're looking out for him too."

"And was it you who bugged their servers?"

"Ah, Albedo found that out, huh? They were already bugged before. I was just asked to do a small update. Technology moves fast these days. I'd appreciate it if you don't disable them. I promise that my client doesn't want to harm anyone you yourself wouldn't."

He smiles. It's an odd turn of phrase, and Kazuha knows it.

Lumine is not a pacifist by any means, but she's taken steps to curb any feelings of anger she might possess into something righteous and productive. She reserves her aggression for those who truly deserve it. Most of the time, it's the cult leaders who fall victim to her ire.

"Fine." Lumine holds out her hand. "I won't get in your way if you don't get in mine?"

They shake on it. It's more of a formality than a proper deal — Kazuha was already letting Lumine do whatever she wanted for the past week, and Lumine responded in kind. They work well together even when they're not on the same page.

Parsifal calls out to them just as the customers of the cafe start gathering by the window. Even the staff looks on in curiosity. Kazuha glances at his watch while Anna stirs Venti awake.

It's almost time for the heist. Everyone waits with bated breath for the return of Mondstadt's beloved phantom thief.

Venti pouts, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. There is a definite wave of reactions from the crowd outside, but it's hard to tell what's happening from above. He watches the window with surprising disinterest.

"Fake Therion is out of their mind for trying to use Therion's title for their own gimmick."

"Huh. You don't think this is the original?" Lumine asks.

"Nope," he says, popping off the 'p' off his lips. "Therion doesn't plan heists for the high value of the objects they steal. Therion targets criminals. And as much as I avoid stepping foot inside the church, V and Carmen are devout believers and they keep me updated on what goes on inside. Even if the church is involved in petty crimes, it doesn't make sense for Therion to come out of hiding for them. What crime would they even accuse the church of? I don't think Therion has ever accused anyone of heresy."

"Fraud, maybe?" Anna suggests. "Money laundering?"

"I'm sure our resident detective can fish the real story out for us," Kazuha teases.

Lumine waves them off. "Not my case, not my problem. Aether would love to solve this if he was here though."

And Lumine can't blame him. There is a reason Therion has charmed the public.

The heists are designed to be spectacles, but there's a method to them. Therion gathers everyone's attention, steals the object in plain sight, escapes the knights, and leaves a calling card with incriminating evidence against the person or family they stole from. There are rumors that Therion either hijacked the security feeds or tipped the media on where to best position themselves to broadcast the show.

If this Therion truly is the same as the one from two decades ago, they would stick to their usual modus operandi. While Lumine and the others wouldn't be able to see the actual stealing of the lyre from outside, they should be able to witness the escape.

"She's here." Parsifal gasps in awe. Therion appears on the rooftop with the Lyre der Himmel in one hand, a spear in another. They stab the spear to the ground and use their hold on the pole to deliver a spinning kick on the knights catching up. As they run through the roof, they leave a trail of cryo, causing the knights to slip.

That's new.

Despite Diluc's muttered complaints in the past, the knights aren't entirely incompetent. Captain Kaeya scales the roof while Captain Eula arrives from the church's stairwell on the other side. They surround Therion, having dodged their every attempt to get them off their back.

Lumine can't hear what they're saying, but she can imagine. It'll be the usual spiel from the knights. She hopes Klee is watching the news broadcast on tv. She was always a fan of Captain Kaeya.

Anna shifts in her seat. "Hey guys, is it just me, or is something weird happening behind them?"

As Eula and Kaeya talk with Therion, words form on the roof's floor in elegant cursive. There is no one writing; the words are painted on their own in red.

Whatever the captains said don't seem to convince Therion. With a wave of their hand, they disappear in a burst of smoke and falling cards (that one is a classic Therion move) and snowflakes (that one is not), leaving a dove stabbed with a dagger and a message painted on the rooftop. The words trail from where the dove lies; it becomes obvious that they have been painted with its blood.

HARK! THE HURRICANES ARE GONE. SEEK THEM NO MORE! BARBATOS IS DEAD!

Lumine frowns. There's something familiar about the words.

Anna shivers in her seat, while Parsifal lets out a low whistle and gives a rousing standing ovation. He is the only one to clap in the cafe.

"What?" he says, appalled by the pointed looks and lack of enthusiasm from his companions. "It was a good performance! I can appreciate the showmanship."

"Of course you would." Venti rolls his eyes. "But the original Therion is still better."

"Who's to say that isn't the original? As far as I'm concerned, that is the real Therion."

Lumine shakes her head. "No, Venti's right. That's not Therion."

Parsifal turns to Lumine and crosses his arms, skeptical yet intrigued. "Okay detective, let's hear it. What's your deduction?"

"My brother is a huge fan. We used to watch the live broadcast of Therion's heists years ago, and there's two things that seem different with this heist. The first is that Therion was a trickster, but they never used actual magic — supernatural magic — in their heists. They're more like the magician twins from Fontaine, Lyney and Lynette."

Everyone knows Lyney and Lynette. The video of their underwater escape went viral on the internet, and they overtake the hashtags on Finchster every few months.

"Considering their track record, I'd say Therion would make a great escape artist too," Venti interjects. "The first one, I mean."

"Aside from the snowflake, Therion escaped the way they always have with smoke and mirrors," Parsifal counters. "You can automate the part where they write words, and they probably have some kind of device for the ice trails. It's not like they're complicated to make. You can do a lot of things that they did without magic. What else do you have?"

Parsifal is oddly defensive about this, but Lumine chalks it up to the fact that he practices sleight-of-hand tricks as well. If he looks up to Therion as a fellow magician, it makes sense that he wants Therion's tricks to be achievable without magic of the supernatural kind.

"The first Therion was a pacifist. They don't physically harm people during their heists. This Therion… while they didn't harm anyone, their methods are certainly more violent than I expected."

Venti nods in agreement, throwing Lumine an appreciative look for her support. "Exactly, exactly! The first Therion wouldn't have approved of them! Right, Percy?"

Parsifal shrugs. "Unless the first Therion comes out with an official statement, guess we'll never know. Of course, that's not gonna happen if that person really is the first Therion."

"Okay boys, that's enough," Anna says, shoving herself in between them. "I think we have more pressing things to worry about. 'The hurricanes are gone'? You don't think…?"

That's a good question. Lumine turns the idea on her head as the conversation continues without her. Is Therion implying that they know about Cimeries?

No, wait…

Lumine whips her head to Kazuha as her mind races with all the information she gathered. The Meteorology Center is bugged to send data to the east, likely the Haar Islands. The Hexenzirkel and some witches can move the Haar Islands. The Haar Islands was near Cimeries when it first developed. Traces of cryo were found in the area where Cimeries was destroyed.

Kazuha smiles at her knowingly. "You think fast," he whispers.

Kazuha is working for a witch impersonating as Therion.

Lumine's mind races as more connections emerge. Therion's modus operandi is to call out the person they steal from for crimes they have committed, to prompt the knights to do a proper investigation on them. But what crime has the Church of Barbatos done?

"They shouldn't be able to, but let's say that for some reason Therion knows about Cimeries," Parsifal says. "Does Therion actually think the church killed a hurricane?"

"Okay first of all," Venti interrupts, indignant. "Destroying a hurricane is not a crime. We all know this. I checked!"

No, that's not right. Lumine stands up to take a closer look by the window. The knights are already partitioning the area for investigation and warding off civilians. Photographers are taking pictures of the scene. Captain Eula is kneeling down on the painted words, while Captain Kaeya inspects the knife embedded on the dove with gloved hands.

Somehow, it's the image of the dead dove that fills in the missing piece for her. Damian's song echoes in her mind. A winged creature, helpless, with no way to fly.

The Verdant Court is known for their love of white doves.

Oh.

Two years ago, Mondstadt was plagued with vandalism on the walls after Hurricane Leraje. HARK! THE WINDS HAVE RETURNED. BARBATOS IS COMING!

And now, Therion deigned to make a response. HARK! THE HURRICANES ARE GONE. SEEK THEM NO MORE! BARBATOS IS DEAD!

This isn't a message for the church. Therion is calling out the Verdant Court.

No, it's more than that. Kazuha implied that Therion has a personal vendetta against the Verdant Court.

Kazuha stands next to her by the windows, hands in his pockets. "I won't get in your way if you won't get in mine," he reminds her. "But I gotta ask. How much has your brilliant brain figured out?"

"I know more than you think I do. I'm not just investigating hurricanes, you know. I was also looking into the Verdant Court a while ago."

Kazuha blinks. "I… can't say I'm entirely surprised. You've always been quick on the uptake. When I saw you visit the Meteorology Center for the first time, I knew you'd make things complicated for me, but not this quickly. Is there anything else?"

"There's something else?"

Kazuha waits, but Lumine can't figure out what else she's missing.

"Hm, guess I can still keep secrets from you after all. You'll figure it out soon, I'm sure." Kazuha nods to himself, satisfied. He glances at the meteorologists still arguing behind them at the table. "Let's just keep those three safe together, alright?"

"Right."

Lumine's evidence board is going to need an overhaul.

So. Venti may or may not be implying that he can kill hurricanes. There's a cult kidnapping people to summon Barbatos and would love to have Venti if they knew about his existence. And there's a witch masquerading as Therion who wants to take revenge on said cult.

Lumine groans. And apparently, there's still more secrets left to unravel.

"Technically, this isn't the real Therion," she mutters to herself. But still, on top of the hurricanes and the brainwashing cult, she now has to investigate the Windblumes' beloved phantom thief, fake or not.

Vile is so going to kill her.

Chapter Text

Above all else, Carmen is a scholar.

The study of literature is also the study of history. It touches on everything from the bygone culture of the past, to the belief systems that persist in the present, to the architecture and technology that shaped Mondstadt to what it is today. All of these are puzzle pieces that influence every literary work, and provide insight to the craft and intentions put behind it.

What is history if not a documentation of the past? And what is literature if not an example of such records?

Much of Mondstadt's literature focuses on the ballads and the epics. Every child of Mondstadt has heard of The Gnostic Chorus, and Heart of Clear Springs is so beloved that it gets a theater and movie adaptation every six years. Though, personally, Carmen finds The Legend of Vennessa to be the most inspiring. The story of freedom won through battle and protected henceforth through the Knights of Favonius is his favorite.

But ballads and epics are easy. Every Mondstadter learns the classics by high school.

Despite Carmen's disagreements with Venti on the nature of religion, there is one niche subject of literature that they both fixate on: superstitions.

"Legend tells of a corner of the city that has been forgotten by the wind," Carmen recites. "To reach that place, one must stand before the fountain and close their eyes, then wait for thirty-five heartbeats, then walk seven circles clockwise around the fountain, followed by seven further circles anti-clockwise. Upon opening one's eyes, one will find they have arrived at a little shop…"

It is nearly midnight, and most of the shops in the central plaza have closed for the day. With only the streetlights and the moon hanging above them for light, the shadows creep closer and darker. Carmen can barely see his reflection on the fountain's surface.

Venti tilts his head to the side. "Does it have to be a specific fountain? There's one here in the plaza."

"We're actually in luck!" Carmen closes the notebook shut. With a grand gesture of his hands, he says, "After many, many hours of research, I can almost guarantee that the plaza fountain we have today is the exact same fountain described in the book!"

Carmen grins; he's incredibly proud of the research he put into this project. He even asked the actual History majors and the Architecture majors to double check his findings. Aleister spent an all-nighter for him on this!

The fountain in the middle of the plaza is one of the oldest surviving relics from the Old days, outliving even the Church of Favonius and the statue of Barbatos, which have been either modernized or removed completely from the public eye. Apparently, historians have been petitioning to declare it a heritage site so it will be protected by conservation laws. This has been vetoed on the grounds that the fountain has compounded flood damage from the constant rain, and conservation laws would have made renovation efforts to reduce the risk of flooding more difficult.

Carmen is 99% sure that the fountain in the urban legend has always referred to the plaza fountain. He has citations and references ready if Venti asks. He'd be happy to expound on the topic if Venti asks.

Venti doesn't ask. "Okay, great! Then I'll wait here while you circle around it?"

Carmen crosses his arms and almost pouts. Almost. "No, no, you circle around it."

"Carms… this is your project, you know."

"But you're the one who always goes cryptid hunting! Surely someone who's been through many magical adventures would know better."

"Surely someone who spends every week in a church would know better!"

A voice cuts in through the argument. "Alright, alright, there's no need to fight. I'll circle the fountain."

The two siblings turn their heads in unison. It's the girl Venti keeps flirting with. Carmen must admit, she's easy on the eyes. Determined, sharp, willing to dive head first into an oddball mystery like an antique shop from an urban legend — she's exactly the kind of person that would steal his brother's heart.

"I'll help you count, then!" Venti says, helpfully.

"Sure, but I can also count on my own though?"

"No, no, let me! It's thirty-five heartbeats, seven circles clockwise, then anti-clockwise… right. Let's do it!"

Lumine nods and stands still. According to Venti, she's a seasonal harvester and a mixologist in Dawn Winery. An interesting word, that. Mixologist. A bartender in other words, although Dawn Winery is fancy enough to employ fancy titles. But the word draws you in with its strangeness — much like Lumine herself does.

And Carmen should know. All he ever studies are words.

Thirty-five heartbeats. Lumine then walks around the fountain, eyes closed, without falter.

She's absolutely perfect.

It annoys Carmen how much he doesn't like her. By all accounts, he should like her.

"Five… six… seven…" Venti hums for a beat. A huff of annoyance pushes its way out of Carmen's lips. This was supposed to be their bonding activity.

He's not used to sharing his brother's attention.

"Hmm, nothing happened," Lumine says. Great observation there.

"Did we do it wrong? Maybe there's another way to get to the antique store."

"I don't think any of us were expecting anything to begin with."

"I'm sure Carmen did."

Carmen takes in a deep breath. He really should've dragged Aleister here with him. "Well, it was worth a try. I can still put this up on the Literature Club's occult exhibit next week. We can give a prize to participants who can circle around the fountain without stumbling, or have a wishing fountain, or something…"

"That's nice," Lumine agrees. Argh! Why did she have to say that! Now Carmen doesn't feel like doing it anymore. "If I was looking up an exhibit, I'd enjoy having something physical to do. A kind of hands-on experience."

"Right? Hey, we should visit Carmen's exhibit together next week. What do you think, Lumine?"

"Sure, I can make time for that."

Seriously, Venti? It's like Carmen disappears the moment she opens her mouth. He hates that he even feels this way to begin with. Surely he's not the kind of person to get petty over his brother finding happiness in someone else?

No, no, there's no use entertaining such thoughts. It's better to just distract himself with work. There's a university exhibit to prepare for, and Carmen's final grade for the class is on the line.

Carmen stuffs his notebook a little bit too forcefully in his bag and studies the board he'll be using for the exhibit. It's… a work in progress. Various notes and artwork have been plastered onto it, but the infamous riddle of the Church of Barbatos sits at the very top:

"Looks like there's still one empty spot left on the board," Venti says. "Do you still need more for the exhibit? Hmm… oh, you have the church's riddle here too! Nice. I don't think anyone ever found the answer in all the years it's been around."

"Maybe we should summon Barbatos to answer this for us," Lumine says. Carmen hates that he can't tell if she's being serious or sarcastic.

"Hey, you could add that to your exhibit! That sounds interesting!"

Carmen bites his tongue before he can say he wouldn't do that, precisely because Lumine suggested it. It's really not her fault Carmen doesn't like her. Well, mostly.

"I guess I could ask around," he says instead. "A colleague of mine, Aleister, actually has some theories about that. She said that you can consume Barbatos's memories if you can find a bonafide dandelion wine fermented from the Old days. Barbatos used to walk among the people like a regular person, so if you can find the bottles of dandelion wine that he buried in the past, his wisdom will shine upon you in the form of borrowed memories."

They experimented on it, once, back when Carmen was still a sophomore. Aleister claimed to have found a bottle of dandelion wine and shared it with the Literature Club. All that got them were drunk college kids playing truth or dare in the dorms. Carmen was drunk enough to pretend to be a priest preaching about the goodness of Barbatos.

His former roommate, Damian, got in on the fun and pretended to be a wind wisp learning how to ferment wine for the first time. Damian was always there to encourage Carmen's adventures. They often joked about being lost twins, with how similar they looked and how much they had in common.

Venti sits beside Carmen by the fountain with a strangely grave expression. "Memories, huh? I wonder if dandelion wine could give you more than that. Like, Barbatos's powers, maybe?"

Lumine frowns. "I don't think dandelion wine works that way. And even if it did, would you actually drink it?"

"May-be~! Sounds interesting, don't you think?"

"It sounds dangerous," Carmen warns him. "Barbatos wouldn't want to burden someone with that kind of responsibility."

Venti lets out an exaggerated, fake gasp. "Carmen! Don't put words in a god's mouth! Though speaking of, given all your knowledge about Barbatos, you can probably add something here about the church that most people don't know." He waggles his eyebrows for good measure. It's annoyingly endearing, coming from him. "Any inside secrets or rumors you wanna share?"

Venti is right. There aren't a lot of people who visit the church these days, despite how prominent Barbatos's image is in the entertainment sector — from romance to horror. The Barbatos from the holy texts has never been as relevant as the imaginary Barbatos created from pop culture. They are almost like two different entities.

Although—

"I guess there is this one thing that seems relevant right now," Carmen muses. "You know, some of the sisters think that the Lyre der Himmel that Therion stole last week on tv was fake. There was a previous case of the lyre going missing for a day — it happened around three years ago, I think? — and they say that the church just replaced it with a fake. The real one might still be out there, somewhere."

"Huh… Now I wonder if 'Therion'" — at this, Venti puts on mocking air quotes — "even knew that they stole a fake."

Lumine rubs her chin, deep in thought. "Unless the message matters more than the theft. Maybe it doesn't matter whether or not they can tell if the lyre is genuine."

"It's Therion! Or someone who claims to be him, anyway. They have to at least know that much."

At this, Lumine and Venti share a quick series of glances. That's another thing that Carmen doesn't understand. They've only known each other for a month, and yet there's an unspoken understanding between them that Carmen can't seem to overcome. He can't follow a conversation when it's only being conveyed through their eyes.

It's unnerving how deeply and how quickly they seem to connect.

Just who are you, Lumine?

Carmen sighs as he gathers the board in his hands. It's getting late; he really should get going before he misses the last train back to Dornman Port. "Either way, Therion might have good intentions, but they're no better than those Windblumes, always making a mess of things. It would be better if the Knights had a tighter grip on things."

Lumine turns to him, head tilted in confusion. "Is that what you think about the Darknight Hero? He who appears in the middle of the night to fight evil and uphold justice?"

"I mean, his sidekicks keep destroying public property with those bombs and lightning rods. Shouldn't that be illegal? Isn't that, like, an act of terrorism?"

"At best, all they cause is property damage, and that's mostly collateral. Terrorism is a serious accusation."

Carmen brings his hands up in defense as Lumine's eyes narrow at him. "Hey, don't look at me like that! All I'm saying is that Venessa worked hard to create a peaceful Mondstadt. That's why the Knights of Favonius exist! If the Darknight Hero wants to save the day so bad, I think he should just join the knights. Why does he have to make it complicated for everyone?"

Lumine studies his face, as if gauging how much he really believes his own words. "Maybe sometimes the knights aren't enough. They can be too inefficient. Too well-known."

Carmen bristles. He couldn't imagine thinking that way of Vennessa's legacy. Mondstadt already has heroes to look up to. To even think that what they're doing isn't enough-!

If the Darknight Hero cared about freedom, why wouldn't he just join the organization left behind by Mondstadt's own freedom fighters? If only he could make Lumine see—

A heavy hand clasps on Carmen's shoulder. "Al~right," Venti says. He swings one arm around Carmen, and another around Lumine. "Let's not get into that now. It's getting late. We should walk Carmen back to the station. You still have a test tomorrow, right?"

"…Right. Sorry about that, Carmen. I just get heated whenever the Windblumes or the Darknight Hero comes up. But forget about it," Lumine says. "Let's get you home."

The kindness in her voice makes Carmen want to resent her more, unnecessarily. He really needs to work on his heart. He's supposed to love her, right? After all, she's his—

Carmen shakes his head. Where did that come from? His head is a mess; he's not usually like this. "Yeah, it's all good."

He really does want to like her. But every perfect person must have a hidden flaw in them. Carmen chooses to believe that this must be why she's wrong about the Windblumes.

As a silent apology, Carmen walks to the front on the way back to the train station so Venti and Lumine can talk privately behind him. Lumine, at least, is keenly aware of how they look, and prefers not to flirt too openly.

"Go to the Windblume Festival with me?" Lumine whispers. Carmen pretends not to hear.

"You want to work on your case during the Windblume Festival?"

"No, I'm asking you out on a date."

"You said that last time and all I did was recite what's in the archives for you. Not that I'm complaining! But we have completely different definitions of what the word 'date' means."

"We can work with your definition this time. I want to spend time with you before I leave."

The pause in Venti's footsteps is deafening. Carmen slows down his pace. "…You're leaving?"

"Oh, haven't I told you yet? I'm thinking of going to Sumeru for a while, in case I'm not getting anywhere with my… work. My brother has been asking me to visit anyway. But I'll only be gone for a little bit. I'll be back soon."

"I just thought you were stationed here. In Mondstadt?"

"I mean, this is my home base. But I do my work all over the world. It's not that I don't love Mondstadt; I just love Teyvat so much more. The mysteries of this world don't just end at this one city."

What kind of mixologist has the means to travel like that? Is this a Dawn Winery thing? The Ragnvindrs really do live in another world, and so do their employees. Such a free spirit. Carmen wishes he had that kind of mobility in life.

If he could move to different countries as easily as Lumine could, maybe he could perform in an open theater, one as grand as the Thousand Winds Temple. He heard that the Zubayr Theater in Sumeru had something like that.

Carmen slows down as the train station comes into view. "Hey, thanks for trying this out with me, Venti. I know you're busy with work. I would usually pair up with Damian for these kinds of projects, but I haven't seen him around lately…"

"Oh, that wouldn't be Damian Lange, would it?" Like a ghost, Lumine suddenly pops up beside him. Carmen startles; wasn't she standing behind him just a second ago?

"How do you know Damian?" He's pretty sure Damian never mentioned Lumine to him before. "Never mind that. Have you seen him lately, then? He's been so busy with his thesis that I haven't seen him all semester — no, probably all year, now that I think about it. I tried visiting him at the dorms once, but he was nowhere to be found."

"He's been very sick lately. But I'll let him know you were looking for him." Lumine smiles like Carmen just gave her the world. Oh Barbatos, help him. "I'm glad to know he has good friends he can return to."

He really should try to like this girl more, for Venti's sake.

"Though, I've always wondered," Lumine continues, pausing in her step. "I'm not the religious type, and I'm really asking this out of genuine curiosity. But isn't it ironic for a believer to be trying out all this superstitious stuff? Aren't you scared that your god will retaliate?"

There's a sharpness in Lumine's eyes that makes Carmen want to prove something to her. But that makes no sense. He doesn't really care that much about her opinion, does he?

What is Lumine doing to him? Oh Venti… what kind of person have you fallen in love with?

Carmen licks his lips. This is something he knows by heart. "Barbatos is not a vain god. He doesn't even like the idea of ruling, and was absent for many years, only coming and going to save Mondstadt when he's needed, or to bring comfort to the disturbed. No, I'm sure of it. Barbatos would rather we verify the truth of old myths and superstitions for ourselves. To validate what we know, to create our own beliefs… isn't that what true freedom is?"

For a moment, Carmen spoke with such passion that everyone stops to stare, enraptured. The train station is spacious in its emptiness, almost as if the echoing quiet was prepared especially for Carmen's answer to be delivered.

"You really would make a great bard," Venti says softly, pride clearly shining in his eyes.

Lumine nods. "I think I understand you a little better now. I don't know if I agree with it, but I can respect your devotion to your god."

She really isn't a believer either, is she? Carmen could almost laugh. No wonder Venti likes her.

As they wait for the train, a familiar figure in a white long coat and sunglasses strolls towards them. A winged wisp pendant charm hangs daintily from her necklace. "This world around us is what we have inherited, and the people of Teyvat have always been, and always will be, heirs to a divine legacy — but not to divinity itself. That's from the prologue of Along With Divinity, verse twelve," she says, removing her sunglasses. "Sorry, I overheard your conversation and this verse sounded like something your friends might want to read up on. Hey Carms. Came to pick you up."

"Oh, Aleister, hey," Carmen greets back. Instantly, his heart gives way to relief. Aleister is good at being a buffer for uncomfortable conversations, and Lumine has brought nothing but those tonight. "Guys, this is the friend I was talking about with the theories on Barbatos's wine memories."

"You talked about me, Carmen? I'm flattered. But we should really be going now. The dorm manager will yell at us again if he caught us sneaking around this late at night, and we still have to visit the Thousand Winds Temple tomorrow!"

Right, they made plans to visit the ruins together for this project. The Thousand Winds Temple was said to be an ancient worship space for Barbatos and some lesser god of Mondstadt, back when Mondstadt wasn't monotheistic. Carmen would have invited Venti to come with him, which Aleister seemed keen on as well, but Venti has work on that day.

It's just as well. If Carmen invited Venti over, he would've brought Lumine with him. And Carmen's still not sure how to act around her.

Just as he's about to reply, the train comes in and slows to a complete stop. The waiting passengers hurry through the lines to catch the last train.

"You're right," Carmen says, pulling up his card and letting Aleister drag him forward. He yells back as he runs towards the train, "Hey, come visit the exhibit sometime, Venti! Aleister can hook you up with some really good wolfhook wine. You should try it sometime!"

They file into the train, far enough inside that Carmen doesn't get to hear his brother's response. All he can do is wave back at them from the windows. Beside him, Aleister grins and winks at something outside.

He can feel Lumine's eyes linger on them as the train leaves the station. Her sharp eyes will haunt his dreams tonight, he's sure.

Barbatos bless her, but Carmen truly cannot bear to be in her presence for long, nor understand what Venti sees in her.

Seriously, what is her problem?

※

Along With Divinity: Prologue

When our perceptions are unfettered by archons and churches, we shall learn that in northern Teyvat, the people of Mondstadt preserved their culture as decades ago, even after Barbatos the Anemo Archon concealed himself.1 When we observe the daily lives of the people of Mondstadt from a higher perspective, it is evident that the people share a carefree nature, which mostly stems from their bountiful and pleasant living conditions.2 The surplus grain produced became their source of brews, and the brews further nourished their easygoing temperament.3 Above all, the Anemo Archon never taught them how to make wine and revel — they discovered it themselves.4

But I do not intend to make my readers think that we could do without archons.5 On the contrary, say, if Barbatos had not guided the warm monsoons to Mondstadt with his divine powers, would Mondstadt still be so bountiful as to produce the brews that it does?6 The answer would be no.7 Mondstadt is an inland city and would have struggled to provide for itself if not for the grace of Barbatos.8 If we look back through history, we learn that Mondstadt is situated on a land that was once frozen, where the living conditions were harsh and brewing would be virtually impossible.9 It was the power of Barbatos that changed everything.10

A cumbersome preface indeed, but keep in mind: while it is the power of archons that created our living environment, we should be conscious of the fact that what shapes our thinking, logic, culture, philosophy and aesthetics is not the archons themselves, but the objective environment that exists around us.11

This world around us is what we have inherited, and the people of Teyvat have always been, and always will be, heirs to a divine legacy — but not to divinity itself.12

Near the vineyards of Dawn Winery lies a small gift shop that sells a variety of wine bottles, charcuterie boards, crystalfly-themed decor, and of course, Barbatos charms. Attached to the side is a quiet restaurant that serves wine and cakes to the estate's daily visitors.

At this late hour of the night, only one patron hangs out at the bar Lumine is currently tending. A visit to the Dawn Winery entails a non-trivial amount of expense, so their clientele are sparse, as opposed to Angels' Share back in the city where the tables are always full.

But Lumine's patron for the night is a special case. The young man samples a priceless bottle retrieved from the cellars below the restaurant and intones, "Barbatos is the controller of winds, the nurturer of freedom, the provider for the lost, the preserver of memories, the god who knows all the songs from past, present, and future." He raises his glass up, still half-full with wine, and declares, "I am—!"

"You're not," Lumine gently chides. She pauses in wiping the collins glass in her hands and fixes the young man a firm look. "You're not Barbatos. Repeat after me: your name is Damian Lange."

The young man withers under her gaze. "My name is Damian Lange."

"You're a student of Mondstadt University."

"I'm… a student…"

"You are not responsible for the winds—"

"Aren't I, though?" Damian clenches his fist around the glass with a grip strong enough that Lumine fears it might crack. "The winds answered my call."

Lumine sighs. It has been a week since Damian started his recovery in Dawn Winery. The Verdant Court's treatment of him left psychological scars, ones that Lumine is intimately familiar with. He's not ready to integrate back to society.

On good days, Conner allows Damian to help out in the bar, doing odd errands and sampling their drinks, although Damian often complained that they could never compare to the Court's alcohol collection. But on bad days, such as today, Lumine has to stay with him until he remembers who he is.

Lumine is the only person Damian consistently listens to. She wishes Diluc would come back from whatever he's doing in Snezhnaya, or that Aether would take a break from Sumeru. They're the only other people who could deeply understand Damian's situation.

Hell, even Albedo's presence might help, but he apparently decided that tomorrow will be the day he'll attempt to contact Mona. He requested not to be disturbed for the next 24 hours. Lumine last saw him carving a knife out of dragon bone.

It is a good thing that Lumine had plenty of practice dealing with situations like this. Even Damian's lowest does not compare to the years of guilt-ridden torment Aether has gone through.

She lays a hand on Damian's, guiding the glass back to the table. "You can't control the winds." She helps unfurl his fingers one by one. "The storms are not your responsibility."

"They are," Damian says. There is no doubt in his tone. He truly believes in his own words. "310 deaths are in my hands."

Lumine perks up at that. Getting information from Damian for the past week felt like pulling teeth, but now they're getting somewhere. Everyone knows that number from recent history.

310 is the number of fatalities from Hurricane Leraje.

Does the Verdant Court really have the power to create hurricanes? Given the vandalism they wrote in its aftermath, it would make sense that they were intending to claim responsibility for Leraje. Was this the crime "Therion" was implying when he implicated the Verdant Court in their heist?

"What do you mean by that?" Lumine asks, gently.

But Damian refuses to answer. Tears gather in his eyes as he takes a miserable sip of his wine. Lumine offers him a tissue.

"I'm sorry," is all he says. He chokes up over his own words. "I didn't want to, but then I remembered and—! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…"

Damian hunches over, body trembling with grief. He opens his mouth to wail, to scream, but no sound comes out. Lumine vaults over the counter to place a comforting arm around him.

"I didn't want to! But they would've killed— and I didn't— and the wine— I was—!" Damian sobs harshly, turning towards Lumine's shoulder to hide his face.

"Even if that's what you believe, the past is past. Grieve as much as you need, but all we can do now is to move forward. We'll figure this out, day by day."

"I can't just dismiss what happened! Mondstadt is in danger because I couldn't—!"

Lumine silences him with a hand cupped to his cheek. She lifts his head up to look at him and wipes away his tears. How does she get through to him? Damian is as much of a victim as those who perished during Leraje.

She pierces Damian with a look, determined and with conviction that she hopes Damian will believe in. "Mondstadt survived this far, and it survived worse. It's not someone's responsibility to take care of us, least of all yours. It doesn't have to be, anyway. Just live a good life. That's all anybody could ask for."

It wasn't the Verdant Court's responsibility to protect Mondstadt, nor was it the Abyss Order's responsibility to protect the world. These self-imposed duties, these beliefs that dictate what the world should be… they only led to lonely, damaged children. They only harm the people they promised to help.

Damian rakes a hand through his hair, stressed out of his mind. A week ago, he wore it long and braided. Now he sports a shorter haircut. "But the last two years were everything to me. I don't know what to do now."

It reminds her a little bit too much of the time Lumine and Aether first started living with the Ragnvindrs. For a long time, Aether was convinced that nothing could ever replace the Abyss Order as home. Lumine herself had felt lost, uprooted from the only world she knew of: that of ancient ruins and dark magic that promised memories of a glorious past.

If Damian can't gather the courage to live this life, perhaps the Windblumes can help him build a new one, just like they did for Lumine and Aether. Aether, in particular, is absolutely smitten with the world of disguises. He forges identity after identity along with Wanderer, escaping each life they want to leave behind.

"Do you want comfort or a distraction?"

"A distraction. Please."

Lumine's heart breaks at the begging in his voice.

Maybe she can help her brother out in that regard. Lumine isn't one for disguises herself, but there is a set of identities they both use that needs "updating" anyway. Besides, there is one tool Lumine desperately needs for this case, and she has to make preparations before the next hurricane arrives. She can't rely on the Stormwatcher Society forever.

Lumine writes something down on a piece of paper and hands it to Damian. "There is an inn in Dragonspine called Wyvern's Warmth. Make a reservation under this name, and make sure we get the cabin near the caves. Ask Adelinde for Diluc's card, if you have to. Tell her it's on my order."

"Yes!" Damian says a little too enthusiastically, clearly glad to have directions to follow. "Yes, I can do that! Right away!"

Damian nods to himself. He practically runs from the bar, hands shaking as he holds onto the paper like it's his lifeline. He left his wine glass completely empty. Lumine sighs again, picking up the glass for cleaning.

There is a saying in the Abyss Order: wine is for forgetting; wine is for remembering. She remembers the culture shock she felt when she started living in Mondstadt. The adults of the Abyss Order drank wine so they wouldn't forget, but Mondstadt drinks wine so they could stay in the moment.

She and Aether could've been royalty. The Abyss Order promised that they would be the prince and the princess, the custodians of The Voice. Lumine was supposed to drink the wine like Aether had; she was supposed to be the next to "dream" of a shop that exposed memories. That made people "remember."

If Diluc hadn't found them, they would have been the Order's greatest success.

As it was, the Windblumes and the Hexenzirkel already dismantled most of the Abyss Order. All Lumine can do now is move forward. It's all Damian could do now, as well.

It's what she learned from Aether. The only way for Aether to not get dragged back into "remembering", back into whatever the Abyss Order hooked into his mind, was to keep moving. Never stay in one place too long, never linger in the moment.

Though Aether long deprogrammed from his time in the Abyss Order, he still casts disappointed looks whenever Lumine fails to "recall" like he could. Lumine doesn't understand.

She's not sure she wants to. What could some unknowable past teach her that the present could not? Nothing good ever seemed to come from it. All wine brought Aether and Damian was suffering and a profound loss of identity.

Lumine already knows herself, and she's not sure she wants to let that certainty go. What kind of person would she become, if she "remembered" like them?

What kind of detective balks at the prospect of a mystery? Unbidden, she imagines Venti staring at her, a puzzle asking to be unraveled.

Lumine isn't sure she wants to solve this one.

Percy hasn't cased out a heist in years, but he didn't become a professional thief at the height of his youth out of nowhere. The last time he fumbled a job was during the Archons' Gallery heist, when he made one of the rookie mistakes of focusing too much on escaping and not enough on keeping an eye on the prize.

To this day, he's still not sure how he lost the blue sapphire that he stole, nor how he got it back again a year later from a dream. It's like he woke up one day and the gemstone appeared suddenly in his hand.

To a magician that relies on tricks and deception, it seemed like the world was playing with him with magic of a different kind.

But that was decades ago. Although his skills need some polishing, Percy is grateful that Venti would entrust this job to him. It's silly and pointless and requires none of the showmanship or pursuit of justice that Therion is known for. It's not a heist for Parsifal, former heir to the Landrich family. But it's exactly the kind of hobby heist that a meteorologist like Percy would gladly take up.

Parsifal is dead, and so are his days of moonlighting as Therion. Besides, someone else already decided to take up his mantle. And if his suspicions are correct, then Percy will let her have it if it means she's still alive.

If it really is her, then she still has a promise to fulfill. She declared it to him once upon a time during their youth, that she would meet him in the eye of a hurricane and save him from certain death.

Decades spent chasing storm after storm may not be for naught after all.

But tonight is not about her. Tonight, he is set to steal the world's oldest bottle of dandelion wine from Mondstadt's treasured weinviertel. Antique dandelion wine bottles are hard to come by these days, and the Ragnvindrs store the last remaining bottles left from the Old days.

(That's one mystery Therion would have loved to solve, if Percy was still in the business of solving. The black market used to get flooded with fake and genuine bottles of antique dandelion wine up until four years ago. But now it's almost impossible to get your hands on one, regardless of one's "connections." Where did they all go?)

The Ragnvindrs are a special kind of mark. The Dawn Winery estate is a privately-owned hub that, quite frankly, has too many fingers dipped into Mondstadt's metaphorical pie. They own the largest winery in the nation; as such, they are responsible for forty percent of Mondstadt's winemaking business.

The Dandelion House — one of the oldest mansions in the estate — is often rented as an events venue for galas and other high-profile events. It is one of the few buildings to preserve and maintain its archaic architecture post-Elemental Revolution.

The estate's most important contribution, however, lies in its outdoor wineries. The land is blessed with abundant crystalflies and somewhat gentle winds. Although they are not immune to Mondstadt's rain, its location is sheltered from harsh weather since most storms come from the eastern sea and are weakened by the surrounding cliffs by the time they reach the estate.

Kazuha whistles as he looks up at the sky. Dark clouds cover the stars. "Looks like it's about to rain."

"It's always raining. Did you really have to follow me all the way here?" Percy raises an eyebrow as Kazuha only smiles at him in response. The party lights glow from the Dandelion House, casting soft shadows around them. "What is it with you following me around, anyway?"

Kazuha shrugs. "What can I say? I'm a big fan of Therion."

It's an open secret in the monitoring room. V (Venti's V, not Percy's. Veiga is—) vetted everyone that Percy has to work with regularly. It's not so much of an issue now. Before last week's heist at the church, it's been years since Therion last appeared. And yet…

Kazuha's lying. Therion was a professional liar, and Kazuha's face sports a look that's no different.

Still, he saved Percy so many times during Venti's "cryptid hunting" expeditions that there's no reason to mistrust him either. Kazuha is truly an enigma.

"This isn't like the church heist we saw last week." Percy says, checking his cuffs one last time. The party should be in full swing soon. "We're stealing a bottle of dandelion wine as congratulations to Venti for killing Cimeries. There's no crime to point the Knights towards, or flashy magic to perform for an audience."

Kazuha shrugs. "A heist is a heist. Of course I'd find it interesting. Besides, it's been forever since you stole something, right? I can help. I'm sure I can be of use to you."

Percy shakes his head. "I don't know why I even bother. You'll follow me even if I say no, anyway. Fine. Follow my lead, then. There is a cave system under the Dawn Winery. The blueprints I found are all aboveground. I have a rough idea of where they're storing the bottles, but we'll have to wing it once we get down. If we split up, meet back around the waterfall. I have a getaway car parked close here. Hm, and also—"

Percy gives Kazuha a once over. Percy is dressed to the nines, ready to arrive fashionably late at the Dandelion House. Kazuha is wearing a pilot's uniform fit for a Hurricane Hunter. It's not a bad look, but Percy did time the heist to be on the day when the Dandelion House is booked for an event. He's dressed formally for a reason.

"Here," he says, taking off his coat and tossing it to Kazuha. He removes any identifying markers on Kazuha's person. The hat and the pilot's coat needs to go. His bandaged thigh, still healing from their scuffle with an Eye of the Storm at Musk Reef, is well-hidden enough. Even if it wasn't, it could be part of the look. Shades… Kazuha can have the shades as well.

"The katana has to go," Percy says, gesturing to the weapon that Kazuha insists on bringing with him anywhere he goes. They hide it near the waterfall for retrieval later. Kazuha swallows his disappointment at leaving his katana behind.

Percy gives Kazuha another once over. Satisfied, he steers them back to the walkway that leads to the Dandelion House. "We're supposed to be guests for Miss Valentine's birthday party. I'm Chase Vanielle, heir to Vanielle Confectionaries — a favorite of Miss Valentine's. You are accompanying me as my attendant."

"Got it, Sir Vanielle."

"It annoys me how easily you can follow unscripted scenes like this. Alright, let's go."

Two knocks on the door. The sounds of partying are heard easily on the patio just outside the Dandelion House. The guard lets them into the foyer.

The receptionist, who was watching the ballroom inside, turns around at the sound of footsteps. "Names?" she asks, as she swipes her ID in front of the tablet in her hands.

A cursory glance immediately reveals three things to Percy.

One: the receptionist's name is Hillie, as shown in her ID badge. An ID badge that hangs from a lanyard and is, for some reason, not simply plastic. It has an NFC. Which means that it can be tracked by a reader device — perhaps multiple devices, and not just the tablet. The ID can open up places that were once locked.

Two: Hillie is wearing tight-fitting suit pants that accentuate her figure, but leaves a visible imprint of a wallet sitting in the right back pocket. Percy notices this just before Hillie turned around to greet them.

Three: There is a fine blush on her cheeks as she takes in Percy's persona for the night: a stylish heir to a confectionary empire. Hair parted artfully, suit tailored, and designer cologne that always makes heads turn. Percy has donned many disguises in the past — from a salesman to a beggar to a knight. But if there's one identity he can always fall on, it's his aristocratic lineage.

The ways of those born in Old Money don't change much.

Parsifal is dead. But right now, just for this moment, Percy brings him back to life.

"Chase Vanielle, from Vanielle Confectionaries." Percy puts on a charming smile and steps into Hillie's space — nothing too invasive, but close enough to be a distraction. His cologne can make someone feel heady.

His hands grasp the lanyard hanging between them to steady the motion. It also helps that Hillie's holding her tablet as a shield — it will serve her as an extra distraction. Hillie will be too busy watching him and protecting her tablet to notice anything else.

"I deeply apologize," he continues, whispering in her ear. "I know this event has a strict guest list, but I forgot to add my attendant in my RSVP, and I simply can't go anywhere without him. That shouldn't be a problem, right? Come here, Max. Show the young lady that you're harmless."

He snaps his fingers twice, masking the clicking sound of the ID falling away from the lanyard under his deft hands. Without missing a beat, he makes a little show out of parading Kazuha in front of Hillie. Kazuha takes it in stride, turning this way and that with a stern expression. He seems to have found his persona for the night: the stoic, silent bodyguard type. Percy can work with that. It goes well with the shades on Kazuha's person.

"Sir, this really isn't necessary…" Hillie says.

"It isn't?" Percy allows himself a fake gasp, one hand clutching his chest, the other on the small of Hillie's back. Quick as lightning, he pinches the corner of her back pocket to move the wallet up for easier dipping. "Oh, thank goodness! Maman said I had to make sure, because Miss Valentine is really strict! And after what happened in the last gala I attended—"

"Sir, please, there's no need for all the dramatics." Hillie glances over to her tablet. "Hmm… you're on the list, so all of this should really be no problem, Sir Vanielle. Please, come this way."

When Hillie turns around to lead them to the ballroom, Percy is already exchanging hands with his assistant. The wallet sits primly on the inside of Kazuha's coat, appreciated by a low whistle.

"Thank you so much, Hillie!" And because he can't help it (it's showtime, after all), Percy produces a cecilia flower from the sleeve of his suit. "Here, take this as a token of my appreciation."

Five minutes in and they already have their ticket underground.

The Ragnvindrs are an easier mark than they have any right to be.

Leraje Memorial is as lonely as it ever was.

Situated near Galesong Lake, just outside the ancient ruins of a sword cemetery, lies the Remembrance Hall dedicated to the lives taken by the devastating hurricane two years ago. 339 names are etched along the four walls of the cenotaph.

It's always raining when Venti visits the gravesite. But of course it is; for the past two years, Venti only visits when he fails to prevent the rain. Whatever success Venti had in the past is not guaranteed to be repeatable, because the weather is not repeatable. The atmosphere is a chaotic system where even the slightest change in temperature, pressure, humidity — or, indeed, the flap of a crystalfly's wings — can cause irreversibly significant changes in the atmosphere.

As much as Venti tries, even with all the technology at his fingertips, he does not have perfect knowledge of the atmosphere.

Venti has made a lot of visits.

His hand traces one name carved near the bottom of the cenotaph, brushed by the feathers of a dandelion sprouting from the ground. A young woman with flowing white hair whose pictures haunt the monitoring room of the Meteorology Center. A friend of his and Carmen’s that was swept up by the destruction: Amos.

If she was still alive today, Venti could imagine her laughing in the Meteorology Center with him. She would read stories with Carmen, play cards with Percy, and studiously examine the weather with Anna. She was in love with the science of weather, perhaps even more than Venti.

"I'm sorry you lost her," someone says from behind. Venti turns around. Dark hair, green eyes… he startlingly looks a little bit like Venti, if Venti ever decided to cut his hair. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

Venti shakes his head. His hand twists around the handle of his umbrella. "It's okay. It's not like you killed her."

Something flickers in the young man's eyes at that. He licks his lips nervously. "Can I ask what she's like?"

Venti smiles. Two years have passed, but he still remembers Amos like she was just standing beside him, excitedly talking about teaching Venti how to pilot a jet."She was a Hurricane Hunter; she was obsessed with storms. During Leraje, she flew alone, too close to the eye of a hurricane. I still remember her last words on the radio: Finally, I shall hold its gaze. Of course, to get to the eye, you have to cross the eye wall, which is where the most intense winds and thunderstorms occur. You can imagine what happened next."

There is a certain irony to how the most peaceful part of the storm is surrounded by danger. Protected by it, even, as if the storm itself created a vacuumed barrier to shield the eye from the outside world.

"Why did she go there alone?"

"Because that's what she lived for. She always seemed to have fun chasing hurricanes. She might be gone, but she died for love."

She's the reason Venti watches the eastern sea. He wanted to know why she was so fascinated by something so destructive, so beautiful. What was it about the winds that made her love them so?

After all these years, he thinks he's starting to understand.

Venti tilts his head towards the young man. "Did you lose someone to Leraje too?"

"Sort of. But their names aren't on this list. They're still alive, for whatever counts as being 'alive' in this world."

Leraje's destruction was unprecedented. When it descended upon Mondstadt, the Stormwatcher Society worked overtime to provide updates on support on relief efforts. Venti memorized every statistic that followed its destruction. 310 dead, 84 injured, 29 missing. Were his friends part of the injured, or the missing?

Something ugly twists in Venti's chest.

"Even so, I'm sorry to hear that." He reaches out his free hand for a handshake. "My name is Venti."

"I…" The young man hesitates. When he takes Venti's hand, his grip is weak and unsure. "Sorry. I had a name, but I don't own it anymore. I don't feel like I do."

Venti gives him a bemused look. He's never heard of a nameless person before. The world continues to be a curious place "Then why don't you come up with a new one?"

"That's the thing. Right now, I could be anyone. I could be anything." The man sighs, like he just confessed his worst nightmare. "And it scares me. They tell me to decide what my life should look like, but I don't know how to do that. It's easier when someone would just tell me who I am."

Venti wrinkles his nose. "That doesn't sound pleasant. What if you don't like who people say you are? If you don't know who you are, then you don't have to decide right now. You can just live day by day until you figure it out."

The young man stares at him, caught off guard.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just funny. Someone told me the same thing yesterday. That all I have to do is live a good life. Maybe Barbatos is trying to tell me something." He snorts a little at that, tone colored with both awe and disbelief. "But what does that mean? What does a good life look like? I've asked Barbatos, but he never answers."

Venti turns back to the corner of the cenotaph, where the dandelion sits tall despite the onslaught of rain.

Amos lived a good life chasing storms. And now she's just a name carved in stone.

But she wouldn't want it any other way, would she?

Venti plucks the dandelion standing proud next to her name, and offers it to the young man beside him. "Here. Make a wish. The first thing that comes up in your head."

"Dandelion dreams?" The young man accepts the dandelion skeptically. Its feathers are wet, but stubbornly holding on. "But it's raining. You're supposed to blow on them on a clear night."

"If Barbatos is real, he'd hear your wish anyway even if we're in the middle of a hurricane."

If Barbatos is real, he wouldn't have let this young man suffer. But Venti doesn't need to voice out his true opinions.

Something akin to despair fills the young man's eyes. "…I don't know what to wish for. What would you wish for?"

The young man stares at the dandelion in his hands as if it could kill him. Venti has never seen someone so intimidated by their own freedom.

But is anyone ever truly free? Here Venti stands in front of Amos's grave, powerless to stop the rain. Carmen's dreams of performing in an open theater in Mondstadt will never come true. Parsifal is condemned by his own death to live a different life from the one he used to have, desperately chasing ghosts that might not exist. Anna struggles with her chronic illness every day.

The only truly free person that comes to mind is Lumine. Lumine, who can visit any place she desires. Lumine, who can protect her friends from monsters that lurk in the night, whose eyes are open to the world beyond the veil. Lumine, who has a heart curious enough to encompass the world. Lumine is freedom.

"I always make the same wish. I wish to drink dandelion wine."

The young man frowns. "You should be careful what you wish for. Sometimes it's better if they don't come true."

Venti shrugs. Nobody ever seems to understand what he means whenever he tells them his wish. "Why not? Do you know what it means if Mondstadt could produce dandelion wine again? It means the weather is good enough to make grapes grow and flowers bloom. We can ride hot air balloons more often, and have sunny days during Windblume Festivals, and have open theaters where actors and playwrights can perform. Colors look more vibrant when you take pictures. No more hurricanes, no more memorials. Dandelion wine is the promise of a good life."

The young man knits his eyebrows, appraising Venti like he's starting to see him in a new light. Still, the doubt lingers in his voice as he replies, "It all sounds so simple when you say it. It sounds too good to be true."

"If you don't believe in your future, you won't have it." Venti pins his umbrella between his neck and shoulder so he can curl his hands protectively around Damian's, protecting the dandelion. "Take it. You don't have to make a wish now, but think on it. If you don't know what to wish for yourself, you can make a wish for something or someone you care about. That's how I made mine."

In another life, perhaps he might have shared dandelion wine with Amos. Venti likes to think so.

"You can wish all you want," the young man says. "But if intention is all that mattered in this world, then why isn't it enough?"

Venti never thought about changing his dandelion wish. But in this moment, in front of the young man who stands unsure of his place in the world, Venti finds himself desiring to do more than just wishing. To inspire the person in front of him to believe that the world can be more than what it is today. "Belief is its own kind of magic, you know. Of course we have to put actions to our words. But sometimes, just the act of believing is what will push us forward."

"…Maybe I still need to find something to believe in."

"Then that in itself is something worth living for."

The young man lets out an inquisitive sound, like he couldn't believe anything could be this simple. "You make anything sound so easy. But thanks. I'll think about it. I have to go now. I still have to catch a ride to Dragonspine."

He pockets the dandelion and leaves. Venti counts it as a win.

But the feeling is short-lived, leaving him hollow as the rain continues to pour.

Venti is frustrated. He has the power to kill hurricanes now, yet it's nothing in the face of the young man who couldn't bear his own freedom, or Carmen's dreams not coming true.

Venti's eyes drift once again to the name etched at the corner of the cenotaph. Whatever he can achieve is nothing in the face of a hurricane that can decimate even its most ardent lover.

Two years ago, Venti stood in front of Leraje Memorial and promised to himself, to the universe, to anyone that would listen that he would do whatever it takes so that Mondstadt would never have to erect another mausoleum like this. Leraje was the first and it will be the last.

It is from this thought that originated the seeds of his seminal paper on atmospheric science: "Sommerfugle-Effekten: Does the flap of a crystalfly's wings in Natlan set off a hurricane in Inazuma?"

And from there, he realized that his talent for manipulating crystalflies might be put to good use other than party tricks. If he puts his mind to it, he can kill hurricanes.

But…

He can do so much more than this.

Venti makes up his mind. He cannot stay just like this. The future is something one must take for themselves, and Venti has plenty of imagination of what the future must look like.

Venti will protect the young man from feeling like he doesn't belong in this world. He will protect Carmen's dreams and Lumine's freedom.

Venti will turn Mondstadt into a place that creates dandelion wine.

Chapter Text

SHOULD WE PRAY FOR A WEATHER MIRACLE? INTERVIEW WITH STORM WATCHER SOCIETY DIRECTOR

Posted 1d ago by @mondstadt_gazette

After two weeks of curiously good weather, the Stormwatcher Society forecasts that Mondstadt will receive her regularly scheduled weekly rainshowers, as is normal at this time of the year. This is good news for our agriculturists, who grow rain-dependent crops during this season.

However, some agriculturist groups have voiced their dismay about the loss of consistent sunshine. According to Flora, owner of the renowned flower shop Floral Whisper, "Philanemo mushrooms need the warm caress of the wind, not the cold breeze we're always used to. Likewise, true dandelion wine can only be fermented with gentle winds. We would be able to grow more of our local specialties in warmer weather."

Indeed, experts from the Favonius Library suggest that if Mondstadt consistently experienced weather like we had for the past two weeks, we could see a boost in our country's tourism and trade by 24%.

The return of our rainshowers affected citizen morale as well. The Floaty Boaty hot air balloon exhibit in Windrise Park has been taken down due to the weather changes. The organizers of the Winblume Festival have also expressed their concern for a low turnout in this year's Windblume Festival. The festival is only a week away.

"We should also be concerned with possible flooding," says Vind, the director of the Stormwatcher Society. "The rainy season usually intensifies about a month from now, which means more frequent flooding and property damage. We are still recuperating from the damage from Hurricane Leraje two years ago. Another hurricane of that magnitude will only set us back further, and endanger more lives."

When asked if there's a possibility that we can see more sunny days in our future, Vind answers, "Technology hasn't advanced to the level of forecasting the weather beyond a week in advance. It remains to be seen if Mondstadt will ever experience weather as good as we had last week. But I pray that Barbatos will bless us once again with another miracle."

※

Beneath the Dawn Winery estate lies a complicated cave system that serves two functions. Half of the underground level is dedicated to the wine cellars, where bottles of expensive wine, both modern and vintage, are stored for safekeeping. Some are part of the Ragnvindr's personal collection, while most of them find their way to the gift shop upstairs and to suppliers and restaurants all around Teyvat.

The other half is hidden from most employees of the estate. The Windblumes' headquarters, accessible behind the waterfall or through hidden entrances in the estate's various buildings, is where Albedo resides most of the time. His role is to gather intelligence and improve the technology that keeps the gears of this ragtag organization running.

His office is a cold and solitary place. Perfect for storing alcohol, and even more so for keeping secret communications as they are: secret. But Albedo never feels lonely. He is often visited by Lumine and Klee and Diluc. Their system's AI, PAIMON, has developed a personality of her own and keeps him company as he hacks private records, researches obscure mythology, and tinkers with the tools and gadgets that their agents use on the field. This can range from anything like Klee's bombs, Fischl's lightning rods, or Lumine and Aether's guns.

But tonight is a rare occasion that calls for a different type of work.

"PAIMON," Albedo calls out as he gathers the necessary materials: an ornate dagger made of dragon's bone, ancient crystallized blood imbued with the winds of antiquity and tainted with the occult, and his thermos of coffee. He'll keep the diagrams out; he already has them memorized by heart. "I'll be going now. Lock up HQ and make sure no one disturbs me on the west wing of the cellars."

The mainframe computer blinks cheerfully and responds with a cute, robotic voice. "PAIMON detects two individuals in the west wing. Do you want to take a look first before going, Albedo?"

Strange. All of the wine for the event at the Dandelion House were brought upstairs already, and they are all sourced from the east wing. The west wing is reserved for the Ragnvindrs' personal wine collection. Albedo chose that location precisely because it is private, spacious, and barely anyone goes there, save for Adelinde.

The log records show that Hillie was the one who went down the cellars just a few minutes ago. But the person on the camera is clearly—

"Kazuha." Despite his shoddy disguise, Albedo recognizes the vigilante the moment PAIMON brings up the security feed. Another person is with him. The disguise is pretty good, and it would've fooled Albedo if he didn't know that, for some reason, Kazuha is always hanging around someone from the Stormwatcher Society. "It looks like one of the meteorologists is with him too."

Kazuha is familiar with the Windblumes. If he needed anything from them, he could've easily contacted Lumine or Albedo. Why does he need to sneak around?

A loud beeping noise interrupts his thoughts — it's an alarm from his phone. It's almost time.

"Change of plans," Albedo says. "PAIMON, lock all the entrances and exits to the cellars for the next hour, but keep the waterfall entrance available. Ignore surveillance in the west wing until I come out."

It's not ideal, but Albedo would rather keep tonight's activities private. Diluc isn't too fond of Albedo's more questionable methods of gathering information, and neither is Aether. He would rather not inform them of this if he can help it. Not that Diluc or Aether could stop him anyway, but it's easier to skip over their fussing than having to deal with it at all.

This does mean that Kazuha gets a free pass at whatever he's doing. Lucky him, but this also provides Albedo an opportunity of his own. Although most exits are closed, the waterfall is the closest exit from the west wing. Kazuha should be able to figure that one out.

"Roger that, Albedo!"

The doors automatically lock shut behind him as Albedo makes his way to the west wing of the cellars. Lumine might be an expert at maneuvering a situation on the field, but this lair is Albedo's domain. He has his own ways of gathering information.

He glances at his watch. The Astrolabos constellation should reach its highest peak in the sky right about now. It will take months for it to reach this specific position in the sky again.

It has to be tonight. Albedo has to summon his witch tonight.

With single-minded focus, he enters the west wing with deliberately loud footsteps and closes the door open behind him. Then he steps back, thinks better of it, and quickly inscribes runes for a short-term spell on the doorframe, leaving the door open. To those unfamiliar with the actions, it would look like Albedo was just inspecting the doorframe for a few seconds. PAIMON would ensure that nobody will disturb him in the cellars, but it wouldn't hurt to take extra precautions.

With that, Albedo turns towards the center of the room and begins his work. If Kazuha is smart, he would take advantage of this opening to make their escape, but Albedo has the feeling that he will be summoning with an audience tonight.

As long as he doesn't tell Aether, it doesn't matter.

Contrary to popular belief, invocations are not recipes that can be replicated by following a series of steps from a book. Each ritual is a personal heed that requires a two-way handshake: a sacrifice from the summoner to initiate the invocation's call, and an acknowledgement from the summonee to complete the response. Most summonings never come to fruition due to either party failing to complete the handshake.

Luckily, Albedo has had practice with this particular ritual.

Without hesitation, Albedo slices the palm of his hand with the blade of the dagger. He dips his finger in the blood and starts drawing runes on the floor. He will have to apologize to Adelinde later about that. Although the floor is properly varnished, cleaning summoning blood off of wood is no trivial task.

When all the inscriptions are in place, he hastily wraps his palm in thick bandages. It wouldn't do anything about the healing — that wouldn't come until later — but it would at least absorb some of the bleeding until the ritual is complete.

The circle is big enough to encompass two people. Albedo steps inside.

"Ama et quod vis fac," he whispers. The runes, once darkened by blood, begin to glow a soft, violet hue. The room seems to hum along with it. The rest of the incantation slips off Albedo's lips with ease. "Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law. Every man and every woman is a star."

There is a pause where he waits with bated breath for the Imagination, for Time, for whatever holds the mysteries of this universe to measure his heart and heed his call. Belief and ceremony are the ingredients of magic.

And then, the hazy shape of a woman begins to form inside the circle with him.

A familiar response echoes from her silhouette. "Every number is infinite; there is no difference. The flame that burns in every heart of man, is the same that burns in the core of every star."

The shadow gradually fills out with details of a witch Albedo is all too familiar with. Standing in front of him, incorporeal yet trapped together with him in the same circle, stands the greatest astrologist of their time. "Hello there, Mona. It's been a while."

Almost two years, to be exact. It's the longest time they've been out of touch.

"Albedo," Mona acknowledges. "I was wondering when you'd call me."

"I missed you too. But today, I have some questions for you."

"Ah-ah-ah. A witch never tells everything." Mona tsks at him impatiently, one hand firmly planted on her hip. "What will you offer first? You know the rules. Quid pro quo."

"Of course," Albedo says, like he expected the response. "I wasn't just investigating for the Windblumes, you know. You work for a collector, don't you? Would this belong in their collection?"

Albedo tosses the crystallized blood towards the space between them. Instead of falling to the ground, it floats mid-air with the ritual's magic. He's not quite sure what it is beyond possibly originating from an ancient dragon, although it evokes a sense of familiarity within him. Mona, on the other hand, would be able to tell right away.

Offering an item for the Collector is a surefire way to proceed with the ritual. Albedo isn't familiar with Mona's other line of work, but he has a vague idea of how to identify artifacts that would be accepted. Anything from the Old world that is overflowing with elemental energy tend to be good candidates.

Mona examines the offering curiously. "Did you find it yourself?"

"Dragonspine is not that difficult to run a solo expedition in. There's something comforting about it, I find. Now, will this suffice for the Summoner's Exchange?"

"Yes, this'll do." Even though Albedo can't touch her, Mona is able to pick up the item without trouble. She pockets the crystallized blood and gives Albedo an affirmative nod. "So, why do you need my services?"

Right. To business then. "We're looking into Mondstadt's recent hurricanes. They've been getting stronger and more frequent, but they also disappear before they reach our shores. The weather lately isn't normal; there's definitely something supernatural about this. Would you know anything about it?"

"Oh, you're finally looking into those storms? Yes, I do know something." Albedo twists his head around as Mona paces about the circle with gesturing hands. "In the Hexenzirkel, there is a witch's apprentice named V. I've only met her twice so I don't personally know her all that well. But she's been looking into those storms for a while now. She destroyed — oh what was its name? The one that devastated Mondstadt… Leraje? Yes, she destroyed that storm two years ago. But for the most recent one, she didn't do it alone. Someone helped her. Hm, now that I think about it, it's possible that someone's been helping her stop these hurricanes for some time now. But I don't think she even knew. They might not be working together."

So there was another party involved. Lumine seemed confident in her hypothesis that Venti somehow had the means to stop these hurricanes, but she also confessed that she didn't think Venti had the power or consistency to do it regularly. It would make much more sense if Venti and V were unknowingly aiding each other towards the same goal.

However, that doesn't get to the bottom of this mystery. "But what's creating these hurricanes in the first place?" Albedo asks. "The Stormwatcher Society said that their development is unnatural. I know they've been forming near the Haar islands—"

"You're mixing up the cause and effect here. Who said that the hurricanes are forming near the Haar islands?"

"You mean… it's the Haar islands that's following the hurricanes, and not the other way around."

"Precisely." Mona claps her hands, like a lecturer who is proud of their student for getting an answer right. "The islands are one of the Hexenzirkel's base of operations, and V is currently in charge of it. If the hurricanes formed because of us, naturally we would have already eradicated the issue long before. Something else is causing these hurricanes to develop."

"…Do you have any theories?"

"Perhaps. Have you noticed that the winds haven't been the same for the past two years?" Mona leans into Albedo's space, speaking almost in a whisper. "There's a rumor among the witches: Mondstadt's archon is returning. But he was always a hands-off archon, unlike the others, so it's hard to determine if there's any merit to the rumors. Regardless, the winds are getting restless as a result. Not just any winds — the Thousand Winds, to be precise. They've always operated under the Anemo Archon's domain, and now they're looking for him. They can't be tamed until a new god asserts themselves."

The Hexenzirkel have always been loyal to themselves, but they used to align with the Anemo Archon and the God of Time. Albedo wouldn't put stock on any old rumor about the Anemo Archon coming back, but with the Hexenzirkel, their rumors tend to hold their weight.

The Anemo Archon… Albedo never stopped to think about whether he believed in him or not. It was never relevant to him, even in his line of work. Would the world really change if an archon came back? Would Albedo?

It's hard to imagine.

"Is that even possible?" Albedo asks. "I thought Teyvat can no longer have gods."

That was the contract that Teyvat entered into during the Elemental Revolution. Teyvat is a world that forces its will upon the universe. To spin its own future, they cannot rely on the divine.

"There were special circumstances at play. And anyway, it's not like gods are that much different from us." Mona shrugs at Albedo's inquisitive look. "But that is neither here nor there. If there is a new storm coming soon, V should already be making preparations to stop it. But I don't know if she can do it on her own. I heard she had trouble with the last one. I would visit to check, but..."

Albedo shakes his head. "It's alright. You don't have to tie yourself to Mondstadt."

"But even so. I do love Mondstadt."

"I know." It goes without saying: But you love the truth of this world so much more.

If Albedo could reassure her with a touch of his hand, he would. But the Mona in front of him is nothing more than a projection, an illusion of the real thing.

The door behind him closes shut, quietly and almost imperceptibly. Albedo and Mona both turn towards the sound.

"It looks like they took the bait," Albedo says. Due to the inscriptions on the doorframe, the door was set to close once someone crossed the threshold.

Kazuha and the meteorologist must have made their exit then. Did he get what he was looking for?

"I noticed that they've been listening in for a while now. But you didn't seem to mind, and I'm guessing that's why there's a tracking spell on the doorframe." Mona crosses her arms, frowning. She was the one who taught Albedo that particular spell, after Albedo dismantled and reverse engineered his own tracking spell in the past. That's the difference between them: when it comes to magic, Mona excels at creation, while Albedo excels at destruction. "Was this information gathering session for them? Did you really have to summon me to do all of that?"

"No. I had questions, and you had the answers." This time, it's Albedo's turn to pace around the circle. Mona walks alongside him, side by side. "Kazuha being here was just a coincidence I was happy to take advantage of. He probably noticed that I put the tracking spell, but there's nothing he can do about that. I didn't think that the meteorologist would be involved, but there must have been a reason why Kazuha was tailing him like this. Otherwise, he could've just come in through the front door, or contacted Lumine or myself."

"I think I remember Kazuha, yes. V has been in contact with him recently."

Ah, everything is starting to make sense now. "I see. Kazuha was responsible for hacking the Meteorology Center. V must've hired him to send updates to the Haar islands so she can monitor the situation more closely. When a storm starts to develop into a hurricane, she has ample time to maneuver the island near the hurricane and work her magic."

It's an efficient use of resources. The Meteorology Center already has the technology and expertise in place for observing the weather on a large scale. This would save V time deciphering a chaotic system like the weather, and instead focus on saving her energy for destroying large storms.

Mona hums appreciatively. "That's why she's always on top of these developments. Clever woman. I heard that she sometimes enters the eye of the hurricane to disperse it."

A witch and a meteorologist killing hurricanes from different sides. Perhaps the Windblumes' role in all of this is to properly introduce each other and find a more reliable way to tame the weather for good.

But that all hinges on figuring out the cause of the hurricanes in the first place. If they can't get to the root of the problem, then all they'll be doing is damage control.

"The Stormwatcher Society are also trying to figure out what's causing the hurricanes," Albedo says. "There was a meteorologist with Kazuha today. If they overheard our conversation, then he might be running back to investigate. He is a Hurricane Hunter, so he has the means to fly out there."

"If he's got the guts for it, would he try to make contact with V?"

"Would Kazuha allow it?"

"I don't know V or Kazuha well enough to say."

There's no choice but to try then. But something is still bothering Albedo about this. "Still… it's possible that he's chasing the hurricanes for an entirely different reason, and that must be why Kazuha isn't being straightforward about why he's here." It's a good thing Albedo thought of bugging them then. Kazuha will lead them to V. "In any case, it will be dangerous, but that's why I'm sending Lumine after them."

"She's in on this?"

"No, but she will be soon. Hold on a moment." Albedo walks around the room, turning his head this way and that while being careful not to leave the summoning circle. If he leaves, the ritual will break, and he'd rather not lose Mona this early again.

The west wing seems to be in order. Which means that Kazuha and the meteorologist knew what they were after and didn't have to rummage the place to find it. Either that, or they're professional enough not to leave a trace behind.

Still, Albedo could see marks on the floor near one of the locked cabinets. This is where the Ragnvindrs store their vintage wine collection, reserved only for special occasions. Adelinde hasn't brought a bottle out in months. The cabinet still seems to be locked, but a more careful inspection reveals a disturbance in the dust pattern on the handle, the frame's wood carving, and some of the bottles that can be seen through the glass.

Ordinarily, PAIMON should have already alerted Adelinde on the matter, if not for Albedo's surveillance shutdown earlier. He'll have to explain that one away, he supposes.

"Looks like they did steal something from the cellar after all." Albedo takes out his phone and starts fielding messages to the right people. He's not sure why Kazuha needed wine, of all things, but if he's connected to V then it might be another lead worth following. "This has been a productive night. I'll send Lumine the info. She can take over from here."

"...You're a shrewd investigator, Albedo."

"I'm glad I could impress you, O Great Astrologist."

The scent of something like burning ash starts to fill the room. They're running out of time.

Smoke rises from the dagger he used for the ritual. It's a rare kind, made from the tooth of an old dragon that once breathed in Dragonspine. Albedo spent months carving intricate designs on the handle, but now it's already half-charred from the magic. Useless.

The trouble with rituals like this is that they cannot be repeated. Never at the same time, and never with the same materials. Besides waiting for the constellations to align at the perfect moment, Albedo will also have to find another dragon's tooth and carve a dagger out of it.

But to Albedo, it has never been a hardship. Perhaps he'll inscribe runes on the blade next time, instead of the handle. Would that make the ritual last longer?

Mona tugs on Albedo's coat and holds his arm up for an inspection. Although Mona can feel the textures of the bandages and his skin, Albedo doesn't feel a thing. It's like an invisible force is keeping his arm raised. "How much of your blood did you use for the ritual?" she asks.

The other trouble that comes with this kind of magic is that summonings require a special kind of ink. The wound on his hand keeps seeping blood, as required by the ritual. It trails along his arms and leaves droplets on the ground. The bandages, too, are stained red; he needs to replace them soon.

"I can take it," is all he says.

Mona rolls her eyes. "This is why I don't want you calling for me like this."

"But I want to. Even when you hide, I like looking for you. You let yourself be found every time. One day, I'll also find the truth you're desperately seeking."

It used to be fun, back then. They would compete over who could find these elusive Truths before the other. Stars, leylines, alchemy. There's so much more of the world for them to uncover.

It's precisely why Albedo, although poised to become a knight, decided to join the Windblumes instead. Diluc affords him a lot more freedom and resources for research, as opposed to the bureaucracy and adherence to Anti-Magic Laws that the knights must follow. Klee thrives better in this kind of environment too.

He doesn't understand why Mona responds with a pitying look. "You're not ready for it."

"That's not for you to decide, is it?" Albedo challenges. "I want to know the truth, no matter how painful or wonderful it is. And I want to seek it with you. Isn't that what you also want? I can handle it, Mona."

"You shouldn't have to." But that shouldn't even be a factor.

"I want to. Isn't that enough?"

As if it never existed in the first place, the scent of smoke is immediately extinguished as the last of the dagger is burned away. Normal fires don't reach temperatures high enough to burn bone, let alone dragon bone, but that's ritual magic for you.

Their time is up.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Kreideprinz. Take care now. It looks like a strong storm is coming your way." Mona bids Albedo goodbye as her image fades into air. The warm glow of the runes has run out, returning the cellar to its originally dark and cold state. Only the markings on the ground are left as evidence of what transpired.

Kreideprinz, huh?

Albedo shakes his head as he prepares for the inevitable cleanup. The ritual prevented the blood from going dry until the end, just as it had prevented Albedo's palm from healing. With the last of the magic bleeding away from the room, it's only now that Albedo could properly bandage his hand.

He should remove the markings, too. It will be more difficult to get the stains out of the floor if it dries out on him. He'd rather not have to deal with Moco and Hillie complaining about it.

"Chalk prince… is that the person that I was before? Am I still that person?" Does he want to be that person? "I wonder if you'd prefer the investigator that I am now, or this prince version of myself that you've conjured up in your mind."

Albedo does know one truth. Between him and Kreideprinz, only one of those people knows the Mona that stood before him today. Only one of those people can stand by her side now, if she allows it.

Mona is an intelligent woman. She'll figure it out soon.

The ride back to the Meteorology Center is a fast but quiet one. Kazuha can sense the tension in the air as Percy races down the road at just below the speed limit. The safety afforded by adhering to the traffic rules is negated by the fact that the rain is starting to pour stronger than it did when they just arrived at the Dawn Winery. Percy should really drive slower in this weather.

Kazuha could assure Percy that they weren't seen, but he highly doubts that. He could also placate him by saying that Albedo had let them go peacefully anyway, but that's not his secret to tell. Lumine is the field agent; she's supposed to draw attention away from Albedo. Albedo works best when nobody notices him in the first place.

Besides, that's not really why Percy is anxious, is it?

They drop off the dandelion wine at the monitoring room, but Venti is nowhere to be found for some reason. He could be trying to control the weather again with his crystalflies, though Kazuha doubts it. If Venti wanted to prevent this particular rain, he would have already succeeded.

V and Venti both have not overcome the main issue with controlling the weather, which is that there are too many variables to account for.

If they want to control the weather, they would have to have perfect knowledge of the motions and characteristics of every breath of wind at every given point in time and space. That's too much information to handle by one person at any given time. Not even Inazuma has the technology to collect or analyze this much data.

To control the weather is to control the winds, and neither V nor Venti has found the perfect solution yet.

"Oh good, you're here!" Anna exclaims. She swivels around on her chair and pauses at the oddly fancy outfits on Percy and Kazuha. "We— wait, what's with the getup?"

Baal help her. She's such a sweet girl, but she really is the only person in the monitoring room who's clueless about Percy's identity.

"Went somewhere fancy to buy wine for Venti.," Percy shrugs. "What's up? You look serious."

"Right. We need someone to fly out there," Anna says just as Kazuha and Percy settles in. She points to a swirl of white on the screen. "The storm is intensifying really really fast. We need to hurry. V is already coordinating with the Knights on how to handle the situation."

"Where's Venti?" Percy asks. "Wasn't he supposed to be working with you?"

"He said he got held up, but he should be on his way." Anna doesn't need to spell it out for them. He's probably at the memorial again. "He'll meet you at the hangar, but it'll take him half an hour to get there. Vind is already talking with the knights on disaster and relief preparations. This could be a big one. They're already naming the storm."

Named storms are dangerous storms. Storms are only given names in Mondstadt when they're predicted to develop into at least a Category 3. The strongest named storm to enter Mondstadt's territory was a Category 4 — Leraje, two years ago. Around five Category 3s find their way into Mondstadt every year since then.

Except for Marbas 24 years ago, Mondstadt has never had a Category 3 before Leraje came along. If not for V and Venti's efforts, Cimeries would have made it to the list.

"What are we calling it?" Kazuha asks.

"Choronzon, I think."

Choronzon. That's the name V warned Kazuha about.

Percy watches the readings with quiet consternation. "We can't afford to wait for Venti. Kazuha and I will have to do."

"What?" Anna spins around in her chair again. Her hand flies out to grab Percy's sleeves, but it's too late. The man is already sprinting towards the hangar. "Wait, you can't just—!"

This is bad. This is really bad.

Kazuha lays a firm hand on Anna's shoulder. "I'll take care of him. You hold down the fort. I'm sure Vind needs you here in the station. And try to get an update from Venti."

He's running after Percy before he knows it. With his head start, Percy somehow has gotten far enough into the hangar that he's in the middle of gearing up for a flight while running halfway towards their jets.

"Percy, stop!" Kazuha yells after him. Seriously, where did he find the time to change outfits? Is this just how phantom thieves operate? "We can't fly out there without Venti!"

"Someone has to drop the dropsondes or else we won't get accurate data. We can't afford to wait," Percy yells back.

Everything he said is true, but Kazuha knows it's all an excuse, especially in the aftermath of what they just learned from Albedo's weird witch summoning.

There's no use putting up pretenses now. Kazuha steels his voice. He will make Percy listen.

"18 years ago, there was a Literature student named Veiga."

Percy immediately stops in his tracks, turning slowly to meet Kazuha's eyes. His face is pale, like just the mere mention of Veiga's name drains all life out of him.

"But beyond that," Kazuha continues, slowly walking towards the stricken man. "She was a witch of the Verdant Court, an organization known for various crimes ranging from vandalism to kidnapping. 18 years ago, Veiga orchestrated the murder of Parsifal Landrich under the orders of the Court. She was chased away by the knights and the Landrich family. Driven by guilt, she jumped from the cliffs of Stormbearer Mountains, and was never seen from again."

Parsifal is onto him immediately, hands grasping his shoulders with immense strength. Good. The closer he is to Kazuha, the farther he is away from the jets. Kazuha cannot let him fly. Not today. "You have no idea what you're talking about. V was never that kind of person!"

"Then what was she to you then, Parsifal?"

The fingers digging into Kazuha's shoulders is painful. Kazuha grits his teeth and slowly backs away, dragging Parsifal with him.

Maybe they can get out of the hangar without having to resort to violence. Kazuha really doesn't want to have to hurt Parsifal if he doesn't need to.

"Parsifal is dead."

"Is that how you want her to remember you? A dead man?"

"Shut up!"/p>

It's a low blow. Kazuha does feel bad for the guy, he really does. Sometimes Kazuha wonders if this could have all been prevented if V just told Parsifal that he was alive.

Parsifal narrows his eyes at him, gears turning in his head.

He exhales slowly, letting the anger fade away to suspicion. They pause in the middle of the hangar, rooted on the spot. "Why did you volunteer to be a pilot for us, Kazuha?" And then, a deep breath. "You knew all along, didn't you? You knew who I was, and you knew where she is, even before we found out from that strange cellar technician."

Right. Parsifal still thinks Albedo is a cellar technician who happened to be a sorcerer. Kazuha supposes that's better than letting on the fact that Albedo has a whole underground intelligence network at his fingertips. He's connected with spy rings even Kazuha doesn't know about.

Still, the jig is up. Kazuha has no intention of hiding any longer, anyway. Not if he wants Parsifal to stay here in Mondstadt.

"She told me everything," Kazuha confirms. "Veiga, I mean. V noticed Mondstadt's erratic weather and hired me for a specific reason. I think you know what that is."

Kazuha received two objectives from V. The first was to send data from the Meteorology Center back to the Golden Apple Archipelago, so V can monitor the weather as well.

The second was to prevent Parsifal from flying towards a hurricane named Choronzon at all costs.

"V was a witch, but she wasn't from the Verdant Court," Parsifal says. His hands fall away from Kazuha's shoulders in defeat. Kazuha holds him as Parsifal sways in place, still frantic. He lets Parsifal clutch his sides to steady himself. "She was gifted with eyes that could see death before it happened. And she knew how I would die."

That was how V recounted the story as well. Parsifal would die by flying towards a hurricane of immense strength, one that's perhaps stronger than Cimeries. V wholeheartedly believes in this prediction as truth.

"Her only wish was for you to stay alive," Kazuha whispers. "I'm sorry, Parsifal. But I can't let you fly out there. I can't let you leave Mondstadt. Let me and Venti handle this one—"

"She's still alive! All this time, I always held on to hope that she didn't die from those cliffs! But I never thought I'd actually… I have to see her!" Parsifal lets go of Kazuha suddenly, backing away.

"If you want to die so badly, then you have to go through me, first." Kazuha quickly side steps so he's blocking Parsifal's path to the jet. He reaches behind him for his katana.

But his hand grasps empty air.

Without warning, Parsifal charges at him with the katana that should have been slung behind Kazuha's back. Before Kazuha could defend himself, Parsifal throws the katana like a javelin, aiming it directly at his injured thigh. At such a short distance, it hits true.

Kazuha falls down on reflex, hugging his thigh to himself and biting down the scream that threatens to escape his lips. His trousers are wet; he can feel the blood seeping out of his bandages. It will be a pain to remove the blade embedded on his skin.

Kazuha already knows, with certainty, that his assignment is now a lost cause.

"I'm sorry Kazuha," Parsifal says. Even as Kazuha tries to stand, Parsifal is already walking too far away. "You're definitely the better fighter, and I'll never win against you in a fight. But I'm Therion. I've done nothing but escape situations all my life."

The quickest way to win a fight is to end it before it even happens. No wonder Therion was never caught.

"And to think Venti said I was chasing ghosts… Goodbye, Kazuha."

All too soon, the jet flies out of the hangar with only a magician as its passenger. Kazuha stumbles towards the medical supplies they keep in the hangar, open wound still bleeding.

When did he even…?

Oh. No wonder Parsifal was gripping his shoulders for dear life earlier. He was already disarming Kazuha then.

He remembers Parsifal teaching him a card trick once. Magic is about seeing the initial and final condition, and never figuring out how one follows the next. Kazuha could now see the logical sequence of events, the cause and effect that led him to this state, but he's a little too late to stop the dominoes from falling.

Parsifal is about to die. A storm is coming, and Parsifal is about to die.

Oh god. V and Venti are going to kill him.

Fuck. He needs to call Lumine.

"Thank you for the update, Director Vind. To summarize, a low pressure area is rapidly intensifying 800km east of Mondstadt. There is a possibility that the storm will develop into a hurricane within the next 18 hours. Citizens are advised to take shelter from the rain and prepare for evacuation when necessary. The Knights of Favonius are currently mobilizing relief and disaster efforts in designated warning zones. The following areas have been issued as Storm Signal #3: Galesong Hill, Brightcrown Mountains…"

Lumine tunes the tv out as the newscaster repeats what they previously reported. She turns her attention instead to the string of panicked messages from Kazuha, as well as the calmer text messages Albedo sent her about his conversation with Mona.

The crazy genius really did go through with another summoning. Lumine really should've seen that one coming.

Rain falls heavily outside their window. Tonight might be the worst timing for a hurricane to develop, considering it's nearing midnight and there's a gaggle of partygoers that will be left stranded in the Dandelion House. Moco and Hillie are probably running around preparing for an "extended party" while Ernest and Elzer are taking precautions outside in the open vineyards. Adelinde will take care of the rest of the estate — from the Ragnvindr's private home to the secret bases owned by the Windblumes.

She really is a one of a kind maid, that Adelinde.

"Guess you'll be leaving soon," Connor says, not looking up from where he's experimenting with different mist flowers for his new cocktail recipes. Despite the threat of a gloomy weather, he remains laidback in the comfort and security of the Ragnvindr estate. There's truly no safer place in Mondstadt right now. "Don't think we'll be getting any more customers with this weather. I'll close the bar. You go do what you gotta do, Windblume."

Just in time, Damian messages Lumine that the reservation has been made. She sends a quick message to praise him for a good job, and tells him to settle down in the cabin and wait for her there.

Lumine responds with a casual two-fingered salute. "Tell Albedo I'm stealing his iced coffee tonight."

She swings by the cooler reserved for employees, where a whole row of tumblers are stored for Albedo's many, many late night research binges. Aether is usually the one who steals a tumbler or two when he's around — in fact, he probably stole one for his Sumeru trip. Lumine grazes her fingers along the whole row to find the coldest one.

There's five of them left in the cooler. Albedo won't miss one of them. Probably.

She hears Connor mutter as she heads out of the bar, "You kids and your caffeine addiction…"

"Sorry, can't save the world without it!"

She hurries to the car near the waterfall and checks for her usual gadgets: communicator, lock picking tools, grappling hook, elemental firing gun. A sword at the back of the trunk.

Lumine grins and speeds off towards the Meteorology Center. It's time to do what she does best.

She has a feeling tonight is the night. She'll save Damian, and Venti, and all of Mondstadt.

Tonight is the night she'll find out how to kill a hurricane.

Venti massages his temples as he contemplates what course of action he should take first.

Where to even begin?

Percy went off a dangerous trip to chase storms by himself, Kazuha is bleeding profusely on the sofa of the monitoring room (how did that even happen?) and tells him that the other jet that they should be using for emergencies is out of commission, Anna is panicking herself to a coughing fit, and there's a bottle of dandelion wine (dandelion wine!) on the table.

It disappoints him greatly that he can't even prioritize the last item on that list. He picks up the bottle with a forlorn look.

"Calm down, Anna. I'll be okay," Kazuha says with a gentle smile. As if there isn't a katana sticking out of his leg right now. "Percy is a professional. He'll be fine. And Lumine is on her way here. She'll fix me up and then we can go after Percy."

Venti perks up at that. Lumine is coming?

"You're bleeding on my blanket!" Anna bemoans. "And Percy can't just fly off on his own! That's against regulations! Oh, V will be so mad at us for this. Venti, can't you stop the hurricane?"

Venti shakes his head. "It's too late for that. I can prevent them from happening, but not all the time. This is one of those storms I wasn't able to manage in time." He frowns. "Actually, it's a weird one. The storm seems to have developed overnight out of nowhere. I know weather is chaotic and all, but usually I can at least sense when a big one is coming."

"But weren't you able to kill Cimeries last time?" Anna asks.

That's a good question. "I'm… not sure I can do that again. I wasn't sure how I did it last time. It seemed like a fluke? But I can try again while we wait for Lumine. I'll be at the cliffs if you need me. Kazuha, don't you dare die on me before I get back."

Kazuha laughs breezily. Seriously, does anything even get to this guy? "It'll take more than this to kill me. Don't worry about me."

Venti narrows his eyes on him, before taking his flute and the bottle of dandelion wine out towards the cliffs. He doubts he can stop a hurricane of this magnitude, but he'll be damned if he doesn't at least try.

The wind is bitingly cold outside. Venti is immediately drenched in rain by the time he reaches the cliffs, which is just a short walk away from the Meteorology Center. Flashes of lightning light up an otherwise dark and stormy night.

Venti's eyes glow into an ethereal teal as he scans the elements.

He presses the flute towards his lips and plays a simple but familiar tune: the happy birthday song. Something he can perfectly play with his eyes closed. He's… not sure if something more complex and elegant would help him any, but either way, it's not like he actually knows how to play more complicated songs. Surely a perfectly played melody is better than a messy, discordant one?

Manipulating the winds is no easy task. Most of the time it requires precise knowledge of atmospheric conditions, but Venti suspects that he's only compensating for a much greater magic that he can't tap into. There should be… a more intuitive way of manipulating the winds. He can sense it sometimes, the way melodies can create pathways for the winds to follow, to dance to. If he closes his eyes, sometimes he can just feel his way through the magic. Let his breath dictate the flow.

But to construct the flow of the winds in such a way that it prevents — if not outright kills — hurricanes requires an inordinate amount of concentration and energy. Despite his clever tricks with magic and science, Venti is still limited by his own humanity.

A harsh groan escapes his lips as he shivers in the cold. He's not making a dent in the hurricane. And Percy is out there alone, doing something reckless. No doubt, he's still trying to find that witch he once told Venti about. The ghost from his past.

Frustration bubbles up inside him. He's so… uselesss! He has so many dreams he wants to fulfill for his friends, so many wishes he wants to grant for Mondstadt. What good is all his yearning for a brighter future when he's got nothing to show for it?

He's got all this heart, but nary the power. There must be something he can do. Should he have taken music lessons more seriously as a kid? Should he have trained in magic, like those witches do?

Suddenly, a terrible thought occurs to him. Should he… try to pray?

He's never been the religious type. It's not that he hates Barbatos, it's just… He doesn't understand. Mondstadt is the city of freedom. If he were a god, he would have stopped the storms by now. If he were a god, he would let Mondstadt rule by herself. Even for all her faults and problems, does Mondstadt really need a god to guide her?

He clasps his hands, but no more words come out. He takes a step forward and tries again. "Barbatos, if you can hear me…"

But the ground has turned muddy from the onslaught of rain. One more step, and Venti finds himself slipping, falling into the depths below. The wind whips fiercely against his skin as gravity swallows him.

Oh god. He's gonna die right here. He's gonna die before Kazuha. He's gonna die before he even gets to taste his dandelion wine.

The ground draws closer and closer. This is it. This'll be the last thing he'll see before his life is snuffed out like a candle.

Somehow, in the midst of his fall, he remembers the old news about how an elder witch of the Verdant Court fell from the cliffs of Cape Oath. She was found with an empty pouch in her hands and a smile on her face.

As Venti braces himself for impact, he thinks he sees a baby wind wisp at the bottom.

🔮

LEDGER ENTRIES FROM A CERTAIN ANTIQUE SHOP (PAGE THREE):

007. RETURNED TO RIGHTFUL OWNER: LYRE DER HIMMEL (RESTORED)

Legend tells of a corner of the harbor that has been forgotten by the mountain rocks and the sound of the crashing waves.

To reach that place, one must stand in the sea breeze and close their eyes, walk forty-nine steps away from the clamor of the city streets, then wait until complete silence replaces the sounds of the voices in the background, the only remaining sound being that of one's own heartbeat. Upon opening one's eyes, one will find they arrived at a little shop...

It hasn't been long since the shopkeeper had visitors, but they were always of the witchy variety.

This one though… oh, she has long waited for this particular arrival. (It's an odd turn of phrase. What does it mean to wait when you live in the streams of Time itself?)

"What is this place?" Venti asks. The bells tinkle as he walks in, and the door closes by itself behind him.

Venti looks around the shop; he can't help himself. Even now, in this form, he still has an affinity for the momentous. For the little slices of time carved out by those with strong desires.

Perhaps it's true that those who once had a heart of a god will always have a heart of a god. Just as those who carve out their moments to infinity will always find their way back to this little shop of dreams.

The shopkeeper smiles. "This used to be a shop where I grant the desires of the heart. But these days, I am simply waiting on items to be claimed by their previous owners. Perhaps you could say that I am granting the desires of these items to see the world again, in the hands of their old masters."

"Have I… been here before?"

The question warms the shopkeeper's heart. "You're the first customer to ask me that question, although the Bishop came close to asking the same. But I shouldn't have expected anything less from the Queen."

"I don't understand. Please stop talking in riddles."

"Oh, if you can only hear yourself speak! But as you wish. Perhaps this will jog your memory."

With a wave of the shopkeeper's hand, a lyre appears floating in front of Venti. Flowing wind is carved into the rosewood frame. But unlike the lyre that was stolen from the Church of Barbatos, this lyre glistens in the moonlight, and the strings vibrate with the hum of anemo.

"This is a special kind of store, where each item has already been spoken for. This particular item has already been bought for you by a customer. It was just waiting to be returned to its owner. You."

Doubt crosses Venti's face. The shopkeeper must admit, it is a rare enough sight to behold that she wishes she could keep this moment still, just so she can appreciate its novelty for a little bit longer.

But that wouldn't do at all. Venti's awakening was wished upon by a little blonde girl many, many years ago. Who is the shopkeeper to postpone such a wish any longer?

Besides, Venti still has a hurricane to kill. It is his self-imposed duty, after all.

Eventually, Venti's hand reaches for the lyre. All at once, anemo envelopes him — from his hands, to the glow of his eyes. A lifetime of memories flash before his eyes in a single second.

This is the shopkeeper's favorite part: watching her customers live through two lives — their past, their present — all in a single moment.

"...Istaroth." Venti finally says. Oh, it does thrill the shopkeeper to be recognized! Very few people can utter her name. "Where are the rest of my memories?"

"You will never fully recover your memories from just this lyre. Just as seeds have been scattered into stories by the wind, so too have your memories. That is the way this world works. But a clever little bard knows many ways to keep his memories from eroding." Istaroth gestures to the bottle in Venti's hand. He still has the dandelion wine that Therion stole for him. "What do you remember?"

"I remember… how this shop works, this shop of desires. There are only two laws that govern this place. Love is the law; love under will—"

"—Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law. That's right. Do you remember the second law?"

His grip on the bottle of dandelion wine tightens. "Yes, transactions of equivalent exchange. But if this lyre was bought for me, that means I can still make a purchase, right?"

"I suppose. Anything catch your eye?"

Venti peers through the dusty windows at the objects on display around the store — a sword of alien origin that has seen the birth and death of stars, wings that belonged to one who has pierced the celestial heights, and a white flower whose petals have crystallized and stopped growing.

Naturally, Venti's hand finds itself drawn to the flower. Istaroth expected nothing less.

"Interested in the flower? The inteyvat is a symbol for a wanderer far from home, signifying the tenderness of the homeland. It once bloomed all over Khaenri'ah, but I hear that these days you're not allowed to pick these flowers anymore, nor bring them outside the country. They're considered an endangered species now, 'no?"

"I think I've seen fake replicas of them. But this one looks very real. Can I buy it?"

"A purchase does not come for free. What will you offer in return?"

Venti frowns. This shop operates on equivalent exchange. He doesn't have anything much of value with him, except…

"Something of equal value… how about that dandelion wine in your hands?"

There is no telling what memories he is letting go of once the bottle is out of his hands. And yet, there is no hesitation in Venti's movements as he presents the bottle for the exchange.

This is the god who always valued the present above all else.

The future is in good hands.

With a snap of her fingers, Istaroth transfers the flower into Venti's pocket. At last, a bottle of dandelion wine! Perhaps she should share them with her assistant when she visits with her partner soon. It's a long time coming for the two of them.

"And with that, our transaction has come to a close. It is good to see you again, my dear friend. I look forward to what new history you will bring about in the future. Now, hurry along, there is a hurricane waiting for you to tame it…"

🔮

Venti opens his eyes to a sky of dark gray.

He is unharmed, lying on the sand as the waves crash into foam a safe distance away from him. A young, lonely wind wisp floats excitedly around him. Venti reaches out, curious. It almost reminds him of a seelie…

Suddenly, Venti sits up. The winds continue to howl in the distance as a storm starts brewing. That's right, another hurricane is coming, and Percy has gone missing, and Venti was about to pray. For what can a simple human like him do? It always felt like he was missing something, some key to stopping the deluge of wind and rain that plagues this land he loves.

But then he fell from the cliffs, and now he has a lyre in his other hand. (THE lyre, his mind tells him. HIS lyre, it reminds him.)

And now, ballads come unbidden from the recesses of his mind, like a memory unlocked. His mind can conjure up songs he's never sung before — songs not even Carmen has heard of.

And now there's a wind wisp following him. Circling him curiously, flitting this way and that around his hair, his wrist, until it finally settles in the palm of his outstretched hand.

Venti stands up, brushing the sand away, and stares at the dark horizon where the water meets the sky. The sea is a lot scarier at midnight without the sun to light his way. But strangely, his heart feels calm.

He's… done this before.

"Venti!" A voice calls out from above. Venti peers up towards the top of the cliffs. Blanketed by the light of the lighthouse stands Lumine, waving at him like the rain drenching her dress doesn't bother her at all. "There you are! You're flying back to sea right? Take me with you! We'll save Mondstadt together!"

Spoken like a true hero. Like a noble soul whose presence will make you feel like you can do anything.

A smile finds its way to his lips. That's right. Venti understands what he's been missing all along, because now…

Now, he remembers.

Chapter Text

LEDGER ENTRIES FROM A CERTAIN ANTIQUE SHOP (PAGE TWO):

003. ON HOLD: INCOMPLETE CHESSBOARD (pending return of previous owners; for Very Important Buyers only: individual chess pieces may be exchanged with precious rocks)

Lumine is five years old when she stumbles upon the little shop for lost dreams.

Just a while ago, the tv announced a storm headed their way. Storm Signal #2, the newscaster mentioned. School let them out early today. Lumine is still getting the hang of the weather system in Mondstadt — they never had this problem in Khaenri'ah, and it's funny to think that storms can have names. But from what she remembers from her lessons, this particular warning meant no school and sidewalks filled with puddles.

Thank goodness Adelinde insisted that they bring their rain boots to school.

Lumine likes Adelinde. During weather like this, Lumine and Aether are supposed to wait by the plaza until Adelinde can come by to pick them up. But if Lumine had to confess, she wishes Diluc wasn't too busy to pick them up instead, even though when they get home he's not as good at making hot chocolate as Adelinde.

He's the only familiar face she knows, having "rescued" her and Aether from the Abyss Order. Though, Lumine still doesn't understand what she was rescued from. There were other people with Diluc, but none that Lumine could really remember. Diluc is the coolest hero Lumine has ever met, even though he's not yet an adult himself.

("He's fifteen," Aether says. "That's practically an adult.")

Mondstadt is very different from the Abyss Order. Lumine is still getting used to it, and Aether had a hard time adjusting. He's always been a lonely child. Although Lumine is the closest person to him, there is a distance — a difference in memory — that separates them. She doesn't know how to bridge the gap between the two of them. Aether complains that Lumine doesn't "remember anything" and he doesn't know how to make her "remember the important things."

Lumine wishes she knew what she forgot.

It was easier for Aether in Khaenri'ah. There were people who "remembered" like him. Not a lot, but most of them were in the Abyss Order. Nobody seems to "remember" in Mondstadt, but Aether says that Diluc looks like someone who can find people who can.

Sometimes, Aether cries at night because he misses life in Khaenri'ah. Lumine does too, sometimes, but she keeps quiet about it because it makes Diluc and Adelinde sad, and it makes Aether cry even harder.

Khaenri'ah isn't a bad city, but…

Well, Lumine doesn't know how to describe it. The Abyss Order was home, but not anymore. Mondstadt is supposed to be their new home, and this city adored the idea of freedom. Lumine doesn't know what to do with hers. Aether struggles with the concept of it. Weren't they already free, back at home — their first home, their real one?

There is one good thing about Mondstadt that Khaenri'ah lacks: Therion. Adelinde lets them watch his heists on tv, and Aether is practically in love. If Lumine wanted to grow up into a hero like Diluc, Aether latched on to the idea of donning a new identity like the infamous phantom thief.

So when Lumine spies a pretty blue rock hidden in the plaza fountain, one that looked close enough to the gemstone Therion stole on tv last night, she couldn't pass that up. She has to show it to Aether!

"Don't go too far!" Aether calls out from underneath the Good Hunter's awning. He fidgets in place. He isn't used to being separated from Lumine.

"I'm just going to get something real quick! Just stay there so you don't get wet!"

"But we're already wearing raincoats!" Aether pouts, but obediently waits for Lumine under the awning.

It's raining harder than usual, but Lumine has her raincoat on, and the stone is only at the bottom of the fountain. If she could just reach it...

"Lumine, what are you doing? Adelinde said we should wait here!"

Lumine sticks her tongue out behind her. "Since when did you listen to Adelinde? Just give me a minute, Aether. I almost got it."

Lumine stands on her tiptoes and reaches out for the stone with small hands. But the fountain is a little bit too tall for her five year old body. She leans in too much and gradually loses balance, until Lumine finds herself falling into the icy waters. Her surroundings are muffled around her. She couldn't hear Aether's voice anymore.

She sinks underwater (is the fountain really this deep?) until the world around her is engulfed in fog…

🔮

Legend tells of a corner of the city that has been forgotten by the wind.

To reach that place, one must stand before the fountain and close their eyes, then wait for thirty-five heartbeats, then walk seven circles clockwise around the fountain, followed by seven further circles anti-clockwise. Upon opening one's eyes, one will find they have arrived at a little shop…

The bell hanging from the door rings, crisp and clear. It has been a long time since the shop had any visitors that aren't of the witchy variety.

"Oh? My, my, you and your brother continue to surprise me, even in this lifetime. It is not yet your time to find this shop, little star. I believe I uttered the same words to your brother before."

Young, five-year old Lumine looks up at the shopkeeper in awed wariness. Certainly, there is no place like this little antique shop. Not in Khaenri'ah, nor in Mondstadt.

"Where am I?" Lumine asks, clutching the sapphire to her heart with an iron grip.

Stacks of curious objects fill every corner of the shop. Some peek out from the frosted glass of the display cases, while others are scattered about desks and chairs and walls, carving out their own space to exist.

"This used to be a shop that grants the desires of the heart… for the right price of course," the shopkeeper explains. "Nowadays, it's just where I keep antiques of the past. Souvenirs of little moments, you might say. I'm holding onto them until their owners come by to pick them up."

"Oh." Lumine ponders on this for a moment. "So… like the Lost and Found cabinet in my school? Aether lost his earring once, but we found it in the Lost and Found cabinet the next day."

It's a good thing they found it. That earring was from when they were still in the Abyss Order. Aether hates parting with the few items they still possessed from that time.

The shopkeeper smiles softly. She remembers that earring very well. "Something like that. Some of these items are looking for new owners though. Since you're already here, little one, you might as well take a look at my shop's wares. See anything you like?"

Lumine looks around curiously. Her eyes burn bright gold, sensing the saturated magic everywhere around her.

"Oh, this is a magic shop," she concludes, like the bright girl she is. The Abyss Order taught her a little bit about magic. It was her favorite subject.

Lumine peeks around this way and that, like she can't help herself, despite trying desperately to seem mature for her age. "Can you take me home after? Aether is waiting for me, and he's not good at being lonely."

"Of course. I promise, you'll get home safe."

Lumine's shoulders relax a little as she finally lets herself examine the shop more closely. Her eyes wander around a couple of objects: a pouch of wind wisps secured behind frosted glass, a cardboard claymore that was once called the Ultimate Overlord's Mega Magic Sword, a deck from an old card game…

She stops at the sight of an incomplete chessboard. Traces of saturated elements emanate from each chess piece.

"Why is the bishop missing?" Lumine asks. "You can't play without the bishop."

"Because it already found its way back to its owner. We have to wait for the others to pick up the pieces that belong to them if we want to play another game."

"That doesn't make sense. That's not how chess works." Lumine furrows her brows. "But the owner of the bishop can't play alone, either. Can we give the rest of the pieces to their owners?"

The shopkeeper's smile turns wry. "We have to wait for them to want them back, and that could take a long time. Is there a particular piece you'd like to return to its owner?"

Lumine hovers her hand over the pawn, then settles for the queen. She nods to herself, satisfied. "This one."

"A good choice. In the hands of the right person, the queen can raze mountains and shape raging storms. It takes a nurturing heart to master its potential." The shopkeeper picks up the chess piece. It glows teal in her hands, rich in anemo. "Do you want it? It might cause a lot of rain."

"It's not like it doesn't always rain in Mondstadt anyway." Lumine shrugs. "Um, I don't want it for myself. I just want the bishop owner to have a friend to play with, though I don't understand how that works. This chess game is weird. Are you sure this is even chess?"

"It's a special kind of chess, with its own unique rules. It has its own laws."

Lumine's face scrunches up. "Weird. If you say so…"

The shopkeeper hums. Usually, one imposes their wishes upon stars. But this little star has a noble soul and desires of her own.

Who is she to turn down a wish from a star?

"You are a kind child, Lumine. I will make it so. It will take years, but consider your wish granted. However, in exchange, you must part with the blue sapphire you found in the fountain. It will do you no good to keep it in your possession. I can hear it yearning for its owner."

"Oh." Lumine looks down at the gemstone in her hands. Therion had looked cool stealing from the rich, and Lumine really wanted to surprise Aether that she found the gemstone from tv. Or something that looked like it anyway (there's no way Therion could have lost it, after all). It would make him so happy.

Still, Aether already has Lumine to keep him company. The chess set, in comparison, looks so lonely with no one to play with it.

"Okay…" Lumine sighs. She swallows her disappointment as she places the sapphire in the shopkeeper's hands. "How do I know if the bishop owner finds their friend?"

The shopkeeper pats Lumine on the head. "Friendship needs time to bloom. Have patience, little one. Perhaps if you make a lot of friends, you will find the owners of these chess pieces amongst those you call your own."

🔮

Adelinde corrals the two wayward children back to the Ragnvindr estate just before they got soaked by the rain. According to the news, the storm (named "Marbas") already escalated to a hurricane. For the first time in Adelinde's life, the Meteorology Center announced precautions for a Storm Signal #3.

Mondstadt is blessed by constant but gentle rain. Marbas will be the first of many strong storms to come.

"Please don't play near the fountains when it's raining," she reprimands the twins while drying them off with warm towels. Aether looks properly chastised in his blanket, if a bit miffed. Lumine opens her mouth; Adelinde holds a hand up before she could protest. "If you get sick, Master Diluc will be worried."

He's already much too young to be taking care of these children anyway. Adelinde shakes her head. Young Masters these days really take too much responsibility on their shoulders.

"Sorry," Lumine mumbles. "I thought I saw the stone Therion stole last night by the fountain."

Aether turns towards his sister, offended. "Therion would never lose the sapphire. He's better than that!"

"I said I thought I saw it, okay! I was just going to show it to you, but I lost the rock anyway. I don't even know how…" Lumine scrunches up her nose and sneezes into her towel.

Aether sighs, already shrugging off his own blanket to drape it over Lumine's shoulders. "That's what you get for not believing in magic, Lumine."

In the eastern cliffs of Stormbearer Mountains, a young meteorologist adopts a baby anonymously left in her family's care. He is small and tiny, and the winds howl as if in celebration of his birth. As if to say, "welcome home."

Clutching the winged pendant on her neck, she names the baby, "Venti."

004. RETURNED TO RIGHTFUL OWNER: LANDRICH SAPPHIRE

Legend tells of a corner of the harbor that has been forgotten by the mountain rocks and the sound of the crashing waves.

To reach that place, one must stand in the sea breeze and close their eyes, walk forty-nine steps away from the clamor of the crowds, then wait until the sound of one's own heartbeat drowns out the voices in the background. Upon opening one's eyes, one will find they have arrived at a little shop...

It's not until a year later that the shopkeeper receives another visitor of the non-witchy variety.

A young man enters the shop, new in this form yet familiar in all the ways the shopkeeper remembers him from previous lifetimes. His limpid eyes are still as clear as moonlight.

"Where am I?" he asks. He does not sound overly-cautious like the precocious little star. He steps in boldly, curious and unafraid. Ah, the confidence of young adults these days! Some people never change.

The shop has changed since the last time a customer made a "purchase." The curtains are decorated with flowers and precious stones from Liyue; the shelves littered with various paraphernalia: a mechanical onikabuto that could delight children and adults alike, a fantastic compass that can manipulate time in a local area, a weapon in the form of a puzzle.

His eyes catch the glint of a brilliant sapphire he remembers stealing exactly one year ago.

"Familiar, isn't it?" the shopkeeper says. "It has been waiting for you for a year now."

"How did it get here?"

"The same way you transported the sapphire away from its owners." The shopkeeper smiles and waves her hands, extending her fingers. Jazz hands, as the mortals call the gesture. "Magic!"

The young man frowns. "That wasn't magic. Those were just tricks."

"Were they? What is called 'magic' is quite similar to fraud and theft. The first relies on acting and narrative creation; the second on technique. To experience a magical effect, one must bear witness to the initial and final condition, and one must have the impression that there is no causal link between them." The shopkeeper shrugs. "To a willing audience, it might as well be magic. And you, dear Therion, have a lot of spectators who look forward to your deceptions."

The young man's hand reaches up to touch his cheek. His face is not masked, like it usually would be during his heists. He looks at the shopkeeper warily. "Who are you?"

"Ah, it pains me that you've forgotten. You used to bring me so many trinkets in the past… but I guess that was lifetimes ago." The shopkeeper sighs, though her voice is unbearably fond. She stands up to take the sapphire from the shelf. "Do you want this back?"

"What? You're selling it to me? Why haven't you returned it to the Landrich family after all this time?"

"Because it's not theirs to keep."

The young man hesitates. "...How much would it cost me?"

The shopkeeper lifts the blue crystal up into the moonlight. The crest of the Landrich family is still embedded inside, fading in and out of view as the sapphire is turned this way and that.

Legends claim that peering into a pure gemstone at a specific time can reveal the past, the future, and even someone's true nature. Just as legends claim there was once a witch who could see death before it took place. But in the end, she herself died from a broken heart, as he who had stolen it from her waited in distant lands longing to see her again.

The shopkeeper wonders if it will turn out differently this time. If a star can dare to wish, then maybe Time — a fixed, all knowing, determined stream — can dare to dream.

"Since you've always had an affinity for this store, then for you, my oldest customer, I will part with it for free." The shopkeeper takes the young man's hand and places the sapphire at the center of his palm. "And if I can part with a word of advice: do follow your heart's desire this time. Don't keep her waiting."

She hurriedly pushes him outside before he can protest.

As Parsifal leaves with a crease in his brow, the shopkeeper sips her wine and mulls over how soft she has become.

🔮

Parsifal is 18 when he falls in love with Veiga.

He first met her at the Ludi Harpastum, and has followed her whims ever since. Afternoons spent at Windrise park, picnics at the university courtyard, nights where he helped her sneak out of the dorms so they could watch the late night performance of the Wandering Troupe. He would invite her to his plays, and there are many that a theater student like him is involved in. Veiga attended each and every one — more so than any of Parsifal's own family.

When Parsifal shared his dreams of chivalry and heroism, entertainment and altruism, Veiga encouraged him. She even helped him design his heists.

Veiga is a literature student of the highest caliber. She is also, in her spare time, a student of witchcraft. In spite of the stigma, Veiga pursues the history and arts of the witches of Old. There are tales of those who kept history alive through magic storybooks, those who protected the borders of the Old World, and those who scried the night sky to reveal truths unknown.

Her studies ostracized her from her peers, but that's okay. Parsifal believes in her magic.

When Parsifal came back from his trip in Liyue and gifts her with a precious stone so blue it reflected her eyes, she knew exactly what the crystal could do.

The sapphire gem is made of pure, illuminating crystal. When Veiga peers into it under a full moon, between the hours of two and five, she is able to glimpse many things. The past (hers and Parsifal's, in another life), the future (an older Parsifal, flying into the eye of a severe hurricane, flirting with death), and her own true nature (a blue-eyed witch, one who is missing a spear).

Interestingly, the hurricane has a name. Choronzon.

"Be careful, V," Parsifal whispers to her one day as they studied in the library. Veiga with her ballads, and Parsifal with his plays. "There are these weird rumors going around about a witch cult. I know you're not one of them, but watch out, okay?"

Rumors of a new coven of witches have been circulating around Dornman Port. Members have been convicted for minor legal offenses, although these days, it seems that they're planning to escalate their activities.

Veiga despised the Verdant Court. The study of witchcraft started with noble intentions. Magic protected this world, once. Now, all they do is cause chaos and become a nuisance to the public.

"Yes, I know. They call themselves the 'Verdant Court.' They tried to recruit me once, but I've made it clear that I wasn't interested. Don't worry, they haven't bothered me since then." She dismisses the topic with a wave of her hand. There are more pressing matters to discuss. "Parsifal, I told you about the vision I saw from the sapphire, right? I don't know when it will come true, but it will. You have to be careful when a hurricane comes around. You know how Mondstadt's weather is like."

Parsifal is young, cheeky, and spry. He has many more years before the future arrives. "Don't worry. I won't go flying anytime soon. I'll be lucky if the knights don't arrest me before then!"

Veiga frowns. "You're not taking me seriously."

"I am! I always take you seriously, V. I just don't think it's a priority right now. I don't have a reason to go out to sea!"

Parsifal has always been a little bit reckless. It's annoying, and endearing. Veiga wants to marry him.

"Hmph. I'll just have to protect you when that time comes."

"Is that a promise?"

"Of course."

With this wish in her heart, she redoubles her efforts to become a strong witch so she can protect Parsifal.

But Parsifal romanticized the past, and believes in the era of magic. He became a phantom thief who steals private magic artifacts that were sold in the black market, and donates them back to museums and research labs. He would even target those who have committed white collar crimes, using his position as a wanted criminal and a rich civilian to redirect the knights' attention to those who deserve the hand of justice.

Sometimes, it pays being the heir to the Landrich family business.

But all good things must come to an end.

After six years of moonlighting as Therion, Parsifal is disowned by the Landrich family due to the machinations of his brother, Eberhart. He has since gone missing without a word.

Before Veiga could finish her tracing array to find him, the knights have already come knocking at her door.

"This is Officer Mikhail from the Knights of Favonius. I'm sorry, Miss Veiga, but can you please open up? We only have a couple of questions regarding the recent string of kidnappings around the university. I also have Sir Landrich with me, I understand that you were close to him?"

Veiga takes a deep breath. Parsifal is missing. Parsifal is missing, and Eberhart was the last person to contact him.

She opens the door with a tight smile. "What can I do for you, officer? Sir Landrich?"

Veiga will never forget the smirk that decorated Eberhart's ugly face. "Miss Veiga, that sapphire on your ankle looks mighty familiar. You know, the Landrich family used to have an heirloom just like it. Hm, now that I think about it… Officer Mikhail, doesn't it seem suspicious that my brother is dead while his lover is wearing our family's jewelry?"

Dead.

Dead.

Parsifal… is dead.

No, that's not right. Parsifal can't be dead. He still has a hurricane to fly to— a hurricane Veiga needs to stop—

"This array… is this not witchcraft, officer? She's a witch!" Eberhart continues.

Parsifal is not dead.

"She must be one of them! The Verdant Court!"

Parsifal is not dead.

Parsifal is not dead.

Parsifal cannot be dead. They are still waiting on a hurricane, their hurricane—

"Miss Veiga, would you please come with us to the station?"

Veiga's eyes flit between the tracing array, the officer, and the slimy smirk of Eberhart Landrich, and knows exactly what to do.

She runs. Towards her window, towards the cliffs. She runs to the east, never to be seen from again.

There are rumors that she jumped off of Starsnatch Cliff, though they could never agree if it was because she was guilty of being a witch of the Verdant Court, or heartbroken by the news of her dead lover.

Parsifal is 24 when he finds himself at the edge of the cliffs of Stormbearer Point.

There is a light drizzle, but the sea is mostly calm. There is no hurricane today.

He has been on the run since his brother tried to kill him to inherit the family fortune. His family already thinks he's dead. He is a dead man now, legally.

And so is his dear Veiga.

"Are you lost? What'cha looking at?"

Parsifal turns. Beside him stands a young boy, looking up at him with big bright eyes. Unusually teal, like the color of Mondstadt's crystalflies.

What's a kid doing all the way out here?

"Just thinking. I wonder when the next hurricane will come."

The boy brightens up beside him. "You too?! I was born during a hurricane, you know. I've always wanted to see one myself, just like the Hurricane Hunters do! Amos and V told me all about them."

Parsifal's heart skips a beat. "V…?"

"V, short for Vind! That's mom's nickname. She works at the Mee-tee… Mee-toh… uhh… the weather building? She told me all about Hurricane Hunters last week!"

Right. V for Vind, who works at the Meteorology Center. It couldn't have been his V.

Parsifal looks back out to the horizon. Then again, they never did find Veiga's body.

The boy tugs on his jacket insistently. “Say, mister, it’s getting late. Shouldn’t you be going home now?”

“I don’t have a home to return to anymore.”

“Then do you want to come over to our house? The knights sometimes patrol around here. You can have dinner with us… and we could play cards! And I’ll tell you all about how to hunt for hurricanes. One day, I’ll be the best Hurricane Hunter in Mondstadt!”

…Hurricane Hunting, huh?

If Parsifal still has a hurricane to fly to, then perhaps Veiga still has a promise to keep.

"Yes. I would like that. Thank you."

005. RETURNED TO RIGHTFUL OWNER: CRESCENT PIKE

Legend tells of a corner of the city that has been forgotten by the wind.

To reach that place, one must stand in the center of the plaza and close their eyes, walk seven circles clockwise around the plaza followed by seven anti-clockwise circles, take forty paces forward, and then wait until the cries of the birds can no longer be heard in the wind. Upon opening one's eyes, one will find they have arrived at a little shop...

The shopkeeper, with her fox-like eyes and slender slits for pupils, hums a forgotten tune as she dusts the shelves. Stardust can get into anything, these days.

Her assistant found new items for her to archive, too: a children's fantasy book about a penguin prince who overcomes loneliness, a garland of flowers woven with love by Aranaras, a bouquet of Lumidouce Bells (symbolizing parting) and Rainbow Roses (passion) that twin magicians used to give away during their magic shows.

The bell hanging above the door rings sweetly as a visitor arrives just in time. Just as the shopkeeper expected. She is, alas, of the witchy variety, though not like the others who regularly visit her humble abode.

Not yet, at least.

"I wish to purchase a weapon." Her tone is cold but fragile, like thin ice before it shatters. She scans the room with pragmatic efficiency, but her eyes naturally drift towards a particular polearm leaning by the corner. Its spearhead is long and narrow like a needle, with a crescent-shaped blade extending from its base.

"Oh ho… you have a good eye." The shopkeeper picks the polearm up so the visitor can inspect it further. "The designer of this weapon was said to be able to visualize the fatal flaws in life itself. As if drawn by some mystical power, this pike would fly from her hand toward her opponents' weaknesses. Like a needle, it slips between the gaps in an opponent's armor. Like the powers of music and love, it finds its way past people's defenses."

The shopkeeper nudges her hand, letting the visitor caress the blade. There is a determination in her eyes that warms the shopkeeper's heart. It is a striking change from this lady's past incarnation, when she used to roam the world lost and defeated.

"All that lives waits willingly for death," the visitor recites. "Ah, where did that phrase come from? I just suddenly remembered it."

"Perhaps the weapon is speaking to you."

The visitor nods, accepting the reason easily. These were the words she herself has spoken when she first designed this weapon, many lifetimes ago. The shopkeeper couldn't help but be proud of her.

Oh, if only Parsifal can see her now. But there will be time for that later.

"How much does this spear cost?"

The shopkeeper shakes her head. She curls the visitor's fingers around the base, one by one, until it sits heavily in her grasp. "It is yours. Wielding it is its own burden and reward."

🔮

Veiga wakes up to an island of paradise. The crashing waves of the sea is gentle on the ears. The skies are bright and cloudless, clearer than she's ever seen it. The pristine sand finds its way into the crevices of her clothes.

More alluringly, there is the comforting scent of a pot of perfectly brewed Scholar's Afternoon.

There is a tea party in the middle of the island.

"Oh my, my. Look who arrived."

"Alice, were we expecting guests?"

As Veiga sits up, dusting sand from her hair, a young teenager no older than thirteen suddenly appears before her. "You're not one of those Verdant Court girls, are you?"

"Scarlett, mind your manners! Don't scare our guest away."

Veiga's eyes narrow. She stands up, towering over the girl, and says in a low voice, "Don't you dare compare me to those criminals. I am a witch of the highest caliber! I would never stoop to their level."

"Hm, you don't look that strong to me."

A rolled up newspaper flies through the air, landing on Scarlett's head with precise aim. It lands hard enough to knock her ponytail loose, before it boomerangs right back to the table.

"Ow! Master, did you have to do that?"

Veiga blinks at the commotion as Scarlett runs back to the tea party. She read about these stories before. Fantasized them, deliberately sought them out. These obscure tales of witches meeting secretly with their tea and their roses. The words come out of her lips, awed yet unbidden, "I didn't think I'd actually meet the witches of Old."

The "Master" that Scarlett was pestering turns a harsh glare at her. "...Did she just call us old?"

"Wait, no, that's not what I meant!"

Another witch laughs. "Oh don't mind her. She's just grumpy because she lost a bet recently. Hmm, I think I saw that spear of yours in the antique shop. I suppose you're Her guest, then."

Antique shop? "I… don't remember going to an antique shop."

She doesn't even remember when or where she acquired this spear. But its weight feels just right, like it was made for her somehow. Suddenly, Veiga is terrified that they will take her weapon away.

"Most people don't." The witch waves her empty teacup dismissively. "It doesn't matter. It's been a while since we've had a new guest. Well then, Miss Veiga, won't you join us for a cup of tea?"

006. SOLD: POUCH OF A THOUSAND WINDS, FOR THE PRICE OF THE LYRE DER HIMMEL (BROKEN)

Linger a while, thou art so fair…

The pouch of winds, which used to reside behind the frosted glass windows of the shopkeeper's high cabinet, is missing.

"What's got you frowning, my truth seeker?" The shopkeeper follows her gaze. "Oh! You always did seem fond of that little pouch whenever you visited me. I'm afraid it's already been purchased."

Mona huffs as she drops off another batch of artifacts she collected on her journey. The items clatter on the counter. A silver twig taken from the center of the world, a drop of water from a colossal beast that once coveted the primordial sea of life, a sakura petal that no longer exudes warmth, weight, or any semblance of "existence."

"Did he finally claim it?" she asks. Though she tries to keep her voice neutral, her excitement carries through nonetheless. The shopkeeper couldn't help but smile.

"Not yet. Another witch — not one of yours — purchased it. In exchange, I have acquired a certain instrument that's in need of repair. I'm afraid the mortals can't provide such a service, so I've taken it upon myself to fix it. It's been rotting in that church for centuries now, so I'm quite grateful that someone finally brought it to my shop."

With a wave of her hand, a lyre appears floating in the space between them. The frame is made of rosewood, with a pattern of flowing wind carved into it. Mona is familiar with the shape of it all too well. The church uses it for the Ludi Harpastum every few years. But the once dull wood now glistens in the moonlight, and the strings vibrate with the hum of anemo.

In the right hands, a skilled musician might be able to play a song with this lyre that can seduce even the most untrusting of dragons.

In Mona's search for the truth of this world, her master directed her to lend assistance to this shopkeeper. She learned much more about this world's history through the antique shop's ledger than through her university books. But one particular purchase has always puzzled her.

A little over two decades ago, before Mona even started working for the antique shop (she was still a young child back then), a young girl purchased the queen's chess piece. Mona is old enough now to understand what this purchase entailed, and she has been waiting all these years to see it manifested into reality.

Yes, Mona knows this instrument very well. She has been waiting for its owner to awaken.

The Holy Lyre der Himmel.

"Are you sure it's fine to give that pouch of wind wisps to someone else?" Mona asks, incredulous.

The shopkeeper shrugs. "Does it matter? The Thousand Winds are freedom itself. Even if they were purchased, they are not 'owned' by anyone. Even when the pouch was kept here, they were merely resting."

Mona bites her lip. She's been gone from Mondstadt for a while, but… "The witch who bought it. They're not from the Verdant Court, are they?"

"Hm, I didn't bother to ask." At Mona's glare, the shopkeeper sighs and takes a moment to recollect her thoughts. It's not like she couldn't find out. "Now that I think about it, they were."

A Tranquil Starlight finds its way to the shopkeeper's forehead. "You old hag!"

"Don't lump me in with your master!" The shopkeeper brushes off more Tranquil Starlights aimed at her direction. The back of the counter now glows brightly with the tens of them. "Really, now. The Hexenzirkel doesn't discipline their successors anymore. But I guess that's what makes you witches oh so charming."

"Ugh, don't you know that they're trouble? Wait, no, you of all people should know that they're nothing but trouble. Albedo's been on my case about them for months now!"

Recently, Albedo has been messaging her about how members of the Verdant Court successfully conducted a widespread breakout from the penitentiary. Most were put back to their cells, but the elder witches are still on the loose. Albedo uncovered their plans to steal the Holy Lyre der Himmel from the church.

It looks like they were successful after all.

"The situation is not as bad as it looks."

"I can't imagine what this will do the Mondstadt's weather. A bunch of wind wisps without a guide… Can you imagine the chaos it could cause?"

"Why are you so worried? Isn't there someone amongst your ranks who is watching the situation closely?"

That's true. V might still be an apprentice, but she is even more invested in Mondstadt's weather than Mona is. Most of the witches of the Hexenzirkel are too busy to dedicate their time to it, so they're more than happy to let V handle whatever might happen.

Mona hasn't interacted with V much. She isn't privy to her reasons, but it's common knowledge amongst their circle that V has a personal stake in how Mondstadt's weather develops over the years.

Still, the shopkeeper forbade her from informing the apprentice witch about the recent purchases from the antique shop, and how they tie into the situation. Very few witches are privileged with the knowledge that the antique shop even exists. Whenever Mona tries to speak about it, a gust of wind would suddenly arrive, knocking things over and distracting the occupants of the room, taking their memory of the conversation with it.

"Ugh. I really don't understand you." Mona ends her barrage of Tranquil Starlights with one last harrumph. She can't pretend to know what it's like to live outside the bounds of time, but sometimes she thinks her employer could use a bit more common sense for someone who prides herself on loving humans. "You let the Thousand Winds loose without someone to guide them. It's been years and all that chess piece got us was more rain. Was it wise to bring back an archon of Old just because of a little girl's wish?"

The lyre is dismissed from sight with another wave from the shopkeeper's hand. She picks up the fallen Tranquil Starlights from the floor and lines them up on the counter, one by one.

These crystalline, pendulum-like lights resemble stars falling to the earth. In the distant past, these stars resembled those that can be found in the Temple of Star Latitudes. A domain that Mona, in her previous incarnation, would know intimately well.

This Mona has not had the opportunity to visit such a domain yet.

"A great astrologist once said, 'Who can imprison starlight? All that will be left is shade.'" The shopkeeper laughs at her own joke. It's a pity that Mona isn't privy to the humor of it. "People wish upon the stars, and the star grants them in return. Who am I to deny when a star demands their own wish? A budding meteorologist once hypothesized that the flap of a crystalfly's wings can be instrumental in generating and destroying hurricanes. So think of my actions as a small flap of a crystalfly’s wings, creating ripples in the time stream. You cannot see it now, because your perspective is limited. But it will work out in the end. Mondstadt has been rather gray these days, but just give it time."

"You've got nothing but time. I can't say the same for the mortals you supposedly love."

Mona seeks and values the truth above all else. But try as she might, she really couldn't understand the way immortals think. Her limited perspective frustrates her to no end.

The shopkeeper pats Mona's head patiently. "It will happen sooner than you expect. Look forward to it, dear! I know I do. After all, I do miss having a glass of excellent wind-fermented wine."

"Of course it's the wine you're after." Mona huffs again as she starts arranging the items she brought on the table. They still need to go through the appraisal process.

"This is a shop of desires! As such, this shop operates under the golden rule: Act as you desire, so long as you act with love. Am I not allowed to appease my own heart's desire?"

"…If you wanted a bottle, you could have just asked. I can get Albedo to grab one from the Dawn Winery's cellars."

It's not the same, the shopkeeper thinks. "If you do, then why don’t you bring him along to the shop? Isn’t it time that you introduce your partner to your employer? Don’t forget my teachings to you now. Love is the law; love under will—"

Another Tranquil Starlight finds its way to the back of the counter.

The shopkeeper shakes her head fondly. It's always quiet here, and a little lonely, but the antique shop really is more lively with her assistant around.

🔮

Two years later, Hurricane Leraje descends upon Mondstadt.

Mona isn't an official member of the Windblumes like Klee is, but she might as well be with the way she assists Albedo and Lumine on occasion. The others treat her like she is one anyway. Fischl has endeared herself to her, especially.

"One of the elder witches from the Verdant Court was found dead at the bottom of the cliffs of Cape Oath," Albedo reports. The Verdant Court is a case Mona is particularly interested in, so she makes it a point to drop by the Ragnvindr's estate when she catches news of their activities. "She was smiling and clutching a purse of unknown origins. Then, for three months, Mondstadt's walls were constantly vandalized with the words, 'HARK! THE WINDS HAVE RETURNED. BARBATOS IS COMING!' The knights speculate that this was a recruitment call that took advantage of Hurricane Leraje's recent destruction."

"And the Windblumes disagree?"

"Lumine and I disagree. But it's more of a hunch. We don't exactly have the evidence to back that up."

Mona snorts. "How unscientific of you."

"Is it?" Albedo shrugs, pouring himself another mug of coffee. He's been drinking them iced lately, since they usually go cold before he can even finish the mug anyway. Nothing is worse than lukewarm coffee. "Intuition is when the subconscious recognizes patterns of cause and effect, even if we cannot consciously reason about it yet. Once we surface those reasons, a 'mystery' becomes 'fact' just as 'magic' becomes 'science.'"

"Now you're just arguing semantics. And quite badly at that. How much caffeine have you had lately?"

When Albedo refuses to answer, Mona sighs and takes the mug of coffee from his hands. He does not put up any resistance.

Dark circles are starting to form in his eyes again. It's uncharacteristically endearing. Mona always envied his ability to solely focus on his cases and his research without getting distracted by worldly affairs.

Still, he could always use a little help. She offers, "I can help you find the rest of the stragglers for the next two weeks, but I'll be offline after that."

Two weeks wouldn't be enough time to find every last member of the Verdant Court, but they can make significant progress in that timeframe.

"You're leaving again?" Albedo is not the kind of person who pouts, though something closely resembling one graces his tired face. Mona likes to think that he reserves these expressions just for her.

"My employer is sending me to a new domain. I won't be reachable for a while."

"Okay. Then I'll find you again, like always."

They've made a game out of it, their own version of Windtrace. Mona's magical cosmic expeditions against Albedo's intelligence network, technology, and basic alchemy. At first, Mona felt sorry about it, because it's not either of their fault that Mona's job makes her unreliable at times.

But then Albedo learned how to use summoning circles within a week, which, okay, since when was he a magical genius? Mona took a fortnight to learn that, and she is the one with witchcraft training between them! Granted, Mona was just a child when she started studying summonings, so cut her some slack, but still!

From then on, the more Albedo improved his various skillsets, the harder Mona trained in the various arts of witchcraft. Hydromancy has been especially helpful with precognition. Albedo hasn't been able to summon her since that first time.

The competition excites her. Even though her own peers from the Hexenzirkel are just as talented, there's something thrilling about matching wits with someone of Albedo's intelligence. Perhaps he enjoys chasing after her, just as much as she enjoys chasing after the truth of this world.

Though Albedo, in his own way and with his own means, is pursuing the same thing. It's why he joined the Windblumes instead of the knights.

If Mona can afford a bit of honesty, perhaps she enjoys being chased as well. To be valued similarly to something as virtuous as 'truth.'

At times, she fears that allowing Albedo to chase her will doom him. Shouldn't she discourage him from repeating the sins of his past incarnation? If Albedo seeks the truth…

But, selfishly, Mona also wishes that one day, they can seek it out together. It would be nice to not have to bear the shopkeeper's secrets alone.

One day, Albedo will be ready to face the reality of his past incarnation, the sins and fate he bore. When that day comes, they can finally run in the same direction. Mona's greatest wish is to cast her eyes to the boundaries beyond time and space, to find Truths beyond Truths. And who better to take with her on that journey than Albedo?

Mona grins at the determination in Albedo's eyes. "You won't find me that easily. But give it your best shot. Let's see if you're finally good enough to catch the world's Greatest Astrologist."