Work Text:
Venti frequently finds himself traversing Teyvat when he can. With the wind at his back and time biting at his heels, he hops from one region to the next, enjoying festivals when he can spare the time and interacting with the locals with a smile and a song. As such, his music seemingly spreads across the continent just as quick and steady as the wind he controls.
Today’s travels lead him to the Court of Fontaine, a large and bustling city that seems to dwarf even the might of Liyue Harbor. Innovation runs rampant in every facet of the city’s technology and infrastructure, working to maintain the quick-paced lifestyle of its citizens and soothing the inconvenience of mundanity like the water it so upholds. However, Venti is not here to indulge in the bright excess of the city. He did not come here entirely as a tourist.
Of course, that did not mean he could not enjoy what the city had to offer. Venti has yet to visit the region in quite some time since he last awoke from a years long nap, and since then the city only flourished further.
“Not as good as wine back home,” Venti says with a soft huff, putting his wine glass down on the table with clink. “But it’s not bad! Fontaine should try Dandelion Wine from back home though. Sweet like Fonta, but no less alcoholic than your beers.”
His companion hums, taking a more leisurely sip of his own drink. It was a Fonta. “I’ve never had any. I heard they’re all the rage in Mondstadt,” he says with a charming smile on his pale face. He looks at Venti through his blond fringe, purple eyes dark and half-lidded in the bar. “Granted, I’ve never been to Mondstadt.”
Venti gasps, cheeks pink, “I highly recommend going then! Nowhere else in Teyvat is as beautiful or as romantic as Mondstadt, especially during its festivals.”
“Really? More romantic than Fontaine?”
At this, Venti scoffs gesturing for a refill on his wine glass, “You have never experienced Mondstadt’s Windblume Festival and that should be remedied.”
“Perhaps my sister and I could eventually go then? For a performance, maybe.”
“A performance?”
“Ah, yes. It seems I forgot to introduce myself,” the blond man says, leaning ever so slightly closer. “I’m Lyney. I’m a professional magician with my twin sister.”
“A magician, you say?” Venti tilts his head curiously. “Would you mind a small demonstration then?”
Lyney cocks his head in consideration, “A demonstration?” He smiles reaching a hand behind Venti’s head, and with a small flick of his wrist, produces a single Mora in between his fingers. Venti turns and his eyes widen at the coin in hand. “Like this?”
“Yes, exactly!” Venti laughs, holding out his hand as Lyney drops the coin at the palm of it. “That’s incredible! Sleight of hand?”
Lyney’s eyebrows lift a little in surprise, but otherwise nods. “Yes. It’s a very simple trick, but it usually stuns most beginners to magic. A very good party trick for kids.”
“I’d imagine,” Venti laughs, delighted. “The only time I’ve seen something similar is with an old friend of mine!”
“Oh?”
“Yes, yes. But it was less sleight of hand and more,” Venti says as he mimes vaguely the blood letting Morax would do to create Mora. “But it has nothing on your magic!”
Lyney blinks, confused, “I’m not entirely sure what you’re trying to say, but I’m flattered nonetheless.”
“You should be! What else can you do?”
“Well, you’d have to see my show, of course. It’s at the Opera House,” Lyney says with a grin, drinking what was left of his drink.
“Aw,” Venti says with a pout. “Can’t we have a—what is it called here? An encore?”
Lyney laughs, a little baffled, “Is a simple coin trick really deserving of an encore?”
“Of course! Think of it as one master of their craft appreciating another’s.”
“Your craft?”
“Venti the bard at your service,” he replies breezily, summoning his lyre with a flick of his wrist. Less the magic Lyney was used to and more that of being an elemental being. Of course, his companion didn’t need to know that. He gives his beloved instrument a strum, the notes pleasantly in tune. “Just like you, I’m quite famous around the continent.”
Lyney stares at his lyre, perplexed, and asks, “How—How did you do that?”
Venti winks at him, “Trade secret.”
For a moment, it seems Lyney was about to protest but he stops himself with a small sigh. “Alright, fine,” he says. He grins as he takes out a maroon handkerchief from his breast pocket. Lyney turns to the barkeep and requests he fill his glass with water before he turns to Venti with flourish. His grin turned a little more mysterious, more devilish. “I’ll bite.
“Look at this glass full of water. Very normal glass and you know that the barkeep filled it for me so there is no way I could tamper with it, yes?”
Venti nods, staring at the glass intensely.
“This handkerchief as well has nothing on it. No holes, no secret pockets. It is a simple silk handkerchief.” Lyney makes a grand show of turning his handkerchief around in every which way. “Now, we place it on top of the water until it covers the entire glass like so, and imagine the one drink you want to have right now.”
Wine, Venti’s mildly inebriated mind supplies.
Lyney lets Venti give his go-ahead before he pulls the handkerchief off the glass. With a sharp gasp, the glass which was once full of clear water was now revealed to contain the unmistakeable deep burgundy color of red wine.
“Oh Barbatos…” Venti says breathlessly as he stares in amazement at the glass with wide, bright eyes. It takes him a moment to realize what just happened before he makes a grab for the glass, nearly spilling the wine—and it is actually wine—in his haste to see if it really tastes as it looks.
It does.
“How?!” Venti asks, absolutely amazed.
Lyney just chuckles softly, leaning a little closer and saying lowly, “Trade secret.”
Venti stares at him, absolutely dumbfounded but fascinated.
Then he turns away abruptly, his nose suddenly itchy, and sneezes. He shoots up three feet in the air for his trouble before floating down languidly like a puffed up feather.
Lyney recoils, surprised at the sudden interruption, and Venti rubs his nose with his sleeve. “Ah, I think I smell a bit of cat on you,” he says by way of explanation with a sheepish grimace. “I’m deathly allergic.”
Lyney laughs once the surprise fades, “Yes. My sister is part cat and we have a lot of cats at home. I guess I accidentally took some of it with me.”
Venti huffs, “I can fix that easy enough.”
“And how—“
A sharp gust of wind cuts Lyney off and blows the thought right out of his head. The sharp and sudden chill and sheer strength of the wind nearly has him tumbling from his seat. He manages to catch himself at the bar and the wind stops as abruptly as it came. Lyney checks himself, patting down on his outfit to make sure nothing went amiss, but surprisingly nothing fell out and as promised, all the cat hair that he has come to accept as a constant in his life was gone, for now.
“Huh. Thanks?”
“It’s a thank you for the wine as much as it alleviate my own allergies,” Venti says, simply. He finishes the last of his wine with a satisfied hum and stands up, swaying a little. Dimly, he realizes how he’s going to pay for any of his drinks. He turns back around with a sheepish grin. “Ah, and maybe for the drinks?”
Lyney leans on the bar with his elbow, a smile on his face, “Consider it paid for.“
“Ah, the kindness—“
“For a job opportunity in Mondstadt?”
Venti abruptly stops, perking up immediately. He laughs, but nods all the same, “Consider it done! We can even have a joint performance. I can be your background vocals! Provide ambience, so to speak?”
Lyney laughs too. “I wish you well then, Venti.”