Chapter Text
The evening sun cast a warm orange glow over the city streets. The delicious smells of various suppers being prepared at Mondstadtian homes filled the air. Among the cobblestone paths, a young man named Mika hurried along in midst the bustling crowd. A satchel swung at his side, bumping against his leg with each hurried step.
Amber had been assigned to write a report on increasing of the local hilichurl camps. Mika looked up to her and often went to her for advice. While she was a reliable worker and experienced Outrider, theoretical parts weren’t her strongest suits. He had agreed immediately after Amber had asked for his help.
Since taking all camps down would take time, even if the Honorary Knight happened to be around to help, so first they needed careful preparation. The map would be a big help for local merchants and residents traveling from the city to nearby towns. He had worked on similar jobs before, already having a few older reports and maps in mind that would help Amber.
Mika was on his way to pick them up from the library at the Knights of Favonius Headquarters. It was where all the essays and papers were stored in for later revisiting.
Mika turned at the corner of a restaurant and a gift store and arrived at a small plaza further from the main street. He was surprised to see the place being crowded at this time of the day. Usually, people were at home or in taverns by now.
Curiously he slowed down and peeked into the crowd. Once he heard the music gliding through the air, his confusion went away.
A sea of people, all drawn together by the figure standing in the middle of them; a bard dressed in green and white. The bard’s fingers were dancing gracefully over the strings of his lyre. The instrument seemed like an extension of his very soul, its notes weaving a magical spell that captivated all who listened.
If one were to perform a survey on what defined Mondstadt, there would be a lot of answers.
Many would say wine. Or Knights of Favonius. Poetry would get a lot of answers as well. And some might answer how ‘freedom’ itself defined Mondstadt. All of them were right answers but to Mika it was Venti’s tunes that best represented Mondstadt.
Every time Mika was in the city and had some free time, he would wander around the streets to try and hear as much of the bard’s music as he could. Or try to catch a glimpse of the bard with Cecilia flowers on his green hat. Venti was a common sight on the streets of the city. He spent his days by sleeping on various rooftops, loafing around in the sun strumming his lyre, writing and re-writing new songs and avoiding the cats of Cat’s Tail.
Occasionally Venti tried his new material by throwing a surprise concert.
The bard mostly played on taverns and since Mika couldn’t stand the taste of alcohol, his chance of hearing Venti’s plays was limited on these surprise open-air concerts. Then again, the bard tended to throw them every now and then simply on a whim.
Usually, Mika brought something as a gift from his travels. It could be anything, local flowers, gems, or other specialties. He always meant to give them to the bard after his concerts, but he didn’t always find the courage to do so. Most of the time he would sneak his gifts in without being seen. His tongue would get twisted into knots when talking to people and that was also why he preferred staying out of the spotlight.
His travels kept him out of the city but also were the reason to come back periodically. Mika travelled far and further yet always returned to Mondstadt – and was happy to do so.
Mondstadt was his home and listening to Venti’s tunes enforced that thought. Mika and his friends and family lived here. And homes are where you’re supposed to return after a journey.
The work he did at the Knights of Favonius was important and he was supposed to return to the Headquarters and report his results. All his co-workers were counting on him to do his share of the work and he wanted to do it well. Mika’s work was very important to him and well, even if he found it hard to admit, he was very good at it.
He loved camping out in wilderness, building a camp, starting the fire, cooking under the stars... He enjoyed getting to see new places and mapping them.
But he did get severely homesick sometimes.
Like the time when he was scouting the Lonely Mountains far away from Mondstadt.
He had sought shelter from the cold night and built a camp under some spruce trees.
Mika sat down to check his notes on his trustworthy notebook, the loyal companion he always kept with him on his journeys.
Suddenly, the boy felt a familiar hollow feeling creeping and crawling on its way to his heart.
It was the same thing the experienced knights would sternly warn the novices about back at home.
Homesickness crept on you, waiting for a the right moment to strike. It often started its attack with the same small signs.
First you would lose your appetite. Then all the unknown scenery all around you would constantly remind you of the fact how far away you were from home. You would keep thinking about your family and friends whom you wouldn’t see for weeks or even months.
Then the upcoming night would fill with loneliness and the helpless feeling of despair.
Mika had a few counters for the sickness. First being his notebook. In between the pages he had a few t sheets of paper with the emblem of Knights of Favonius at the right corner.
It was the same decorated paper the knights used to write notes and reports.
It reminded him of his work and of home. He took some with him, the library was full of supplies. Touching and holding them would remind him of the library. All the evenings he had spent there, all the books he held dear and all those moments he had worked of reports with a co-knight. All the good moments. Mika wasn’t especially outgoing person and rather enjoyed being able to take his time to collect his thoughts. The peace of library helped him to calm down after socializing. He did like people and, despite enjoying being alone, he didn’t like being lonely.
Lonely nights like this made him think about his family, mother, father, brother… He missed his friends and the constant liveliness of Mondstadt. He missed the possibility of bumping into Amber or Commander Eula or even the Honorary Knight if they were around.
In those lonely moments he missed the enchanting melodies he could hear often playing in the streets. No matter which song he was playing, the bard always managed to get his own personal touch to the songs.
That cold night he felt especially homesick. The tall spruce trees surrounding him made him feel small and question himself. Was he really good enough for this mission? What if he messed up and betrayed everyone? Nobody would trust him anymore.
Sure, everyone was telling him to believe in himself more but that was a hard thing to do. He really wanted to be able to.
Mika felt tears forming in the corner of his eyes. Big fat tears began rolling down. They left hot trails on his cheeks. Sadness and darkness formed a hard lump in his throat that wouldn’t go away.
The wind got stronger, yet gentler. It was almost like he could hear all the familiar sounds of Mondstadt coming from the breeze. Mika sniffled.
He sat under the moonlight and let the wind soothe him until he had calmed down enough to crawl into his tent. That night he had fallen asleep to the sounds of night wind.
Twilight sky dyed the city square and the sea of people around it. Venti’s performances always succeeded in gathering a huge crowd. As the final notes of the melody hung in the air, there was a collective sigh from the crowd, as if they had just awoken from a dream. The audience waited in silence before erupting into applause. The enthusiastic cheering brought Mika back from his memories.
A graceful smile lingered on Venti’s face when he finished the song.
Whenever Mika found Venti hanging around on the streets, he always seemed to stare at the bard for so long he managed to forget what he was doing.
Hiding in the audience felt safer to stare without getting caught.
Venti waited patiently for the crowd to calm down before opening his mouth.
“Heheh… Well, what a huge audience, there are so many of you! I was a little embarrassed at first to start playing this brand-new song. But there's no need to worry, once I started playing, it's like I couldn't stop! Thank you all so much for listening!”
Venti’s words got him some more applause and sounds of appreciation.
“I hope everyone enjoyed themselves and I didn’t keep anyone from doing what they were supposed to do”, he laughed making the crowd laugh as well.
“Today I woke up to a song that was both new and familiar. I saw a flock of finches, singing, dancing and gliding through the winds in a glorious display... It's enough to make a bard to write a new song! This song is a tribute to these birds who have the freedom to fly anywhere yet decide to live with us here in Mondstadt.”
Maybe they also keep returning for more of your songs, Mika thought.
“I wanted to thank them for the lovely wake-up song”, Venti hummed and watched a pair of finches sitting on the rail of a balcony, “they’ve truly made my heart sing.”
‘The birds should thank him instead’, Mika thought to himself.
Then a thought appeared in his head.
I should thank him for everything. In a proper way.
A simple spoken ‘thank you’ wouldn’t be enough to convoy how much the bard soothed his soul. How much his music had helped him and how much his kind and wise worlds gave Mika strength during helpless times.
If poetry truly was one of the cornerstones of Mondstadt…
Then shouldn’t Mika – as a Mondstadter – honor this cornerstone and write about what made his heart sing?
But how do you write a poem? Mika would have to do some research first. The library would definitely have all the answers. He hurriedly continued his way to the library since he still needed to help Amber with her report as well.
The night flew in by the blink of an eye. The moonlight shined in from the window, basking the bookshelves in its light. The library had calmed down and was ready to settle in for the night. This all went unnoticed by Mika who had spent the whole evening his nose in old theorical books about writing poetry.
He read about repetition of words and how to use comparisons to help the reader understand things better. There were books dedicated to rhyming words to give the poem a sense of musicality.
There were rules about rhythm and patterns of the words. Sometimes lines keep going and going, while other times they pause for effect.
But at the same time all the rules could be bent or broken so in the end none of them mattered.
He left out a big sigh and closed another heavy book. Poetry was complex, just like he had thought, but he didn’t expect there to be so many rules.
Mika had devoured a lot of books and study papers while trying to absorb as much information as he could.
“Mika darling”, sighed a pleasant voice behind him. He flinched a little when a gloved hand landed gently on his shoulder.
“These constant all-nighters aren’t good for you. It would be for the best if we finished up in here and headed home for now, wouldn’t it?”
“Miss Lisa!” Mika stuttered and glanced out from the window. “I- is it really this late already? I didn’t notice at all. I’m so sorry!”
It was dark outside and even if he couldn’t see the stars this deep in the city, he was sure the sky was full of them.
Of course, the librarian wouldn’t be able to leave when there was still someone in the library. He felt embarrassed for making Miss Lisa stay up this late all because of him.
Lisa smiled at him gently behind his back.
“The books will wait here for you so you can continue on your research on…”, Lisa leaned to peek over his shoulder, “…poetry. Oh, that’s a new for you darling.”
“I- I just felt like reading something new!” Mika felt like he had to defend himself and started tidying up the desk.
“No need to sound so embarrassed”, she chuckled, “I’ve written a fair share of poems myself.”
“You have?” Mika said surprised. “What kind of poems did you write?”
Lisa laughed gently and gave his shoulders a friendly squeeze before letting go. She took some books from the table and walked to put them back in their places.
“Hmm…”, she pondered for a while before continuing.
“Back then, whenever I found myself caught in a frustrating situation, I would put my feelings into words and put pen on paper... I always found that poetry was the perfect outlet for my emotions. I wrote quite a few poems during my studies”, she explained while putting books back in the shelf.
“Oh right!” Lisa suddenly chuckled. “Once there was an incident with a rather unpleasant teacher and instead of giving into my aggravation, I let my pen do the talking for me.”
Then the librarian turned to Mika. “Would you like to hear it? A bitter old fool, with his twisted-”
“I-I’m good thanks”, Mika blushed feeling it would only confuse him more.
“Hmm, that reminds me…”, she walked to another shelf, “there should be a book here that could be really helpful for you.”
Mika watched her browse through the books before stopping to an empty spot on the shelf.
“Hmh, it seems like someone has loaned it. What a shame.”
“Oh… t-that’s okay! Thank you anyway.”
“Very well then”, Lisa smiled and turned at him, “now, let’s head home, shall we?”
Mika stood up and bowed his head to the librarian before heading to the door.
“Thank you miss Lisa. I hope you have a good night.”
“Sweet dreams, dear Mika.”
When he got back home, he was so exhausted he fell asleep right away. It was somewhat new for him. Usually, he rolled around restlessly for hours before managing to calm down. His nights tended to be filled with stressing and worrying about past mistakes and constant what ifs.
But that night he didn’t have any leftover energy to do so.
After a good night’s sleep, he felt refreshed at first. But then his mind raced right back to the last night, which made him start worrying about the poem again. How was he supposed to begin?
“Mika sure seems focused today”, hummed his father at the breakfast table when Mika had managed to blissfully ignore when his brother asked him to pass the butter for the fourth time.
“Mika!”
“S-sorry! Here you go!”
Once breakfast was over, he hurried back to the library. On his way there he bumped into someone he knew.
“Ouch!” he exclaimed and looked up. Mika let out a loud gasp and his eyes widened when he saw the man in front of him.
“Oh? Ah, Mika.”
“I’m so sorry Captain Kaeya! Y-you didn’t get hurt right?”
Mika's forehead was red because he had hit it on the one of the metal decorations on Kaeya's jacket, but he was more worried about the other man than himself.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me”, Kaeya reassured, “what a coincidence, I was actually on my way to see you.”
“Me?”
“Miss librarian told me you could use this. She told me you were struggling with something”, Kaeya said and dug out a worn-out book, “some pages are a bit loose, so I suggest reading it carefully.”
Kaeya handed Mika the book and he swayed slightly from its weight. He stared intently at the cover of the book. The dark leather cover of the book had scratches all over it and some of the pages were peeking under the covers. The title was missing a few letters, but he managed to read it.
“Finding Your Voice: The Guide of Expressing Yourself Through Poetry”
“It sure was a helpful read”, Kaeya hummed, “It sure helped me out of my creative block.”
“Do you also write poems Captain Kaeya?” Mika’s eyes widened. Was poetry this common in this city? Maybe Mika was the only knight of Favonius who didn’t? Then he got embarrassed by his own question since why would the Captain even read a poetry guidebook if he didn’t write poems.
Yes, I do write poems. It has become sort of a hobby recently. “
“I hope it will help me as well”, Mika sighed, “I’m having trouble even starting.”
Kaeya looked at him sympathetically.
“I recommend starting with the basics. First, what inspired you to start writing in the first place?”
“I-I just got a sudden feeling that’s all!” Mika managed to stutter out when a certain bard's face flashed in his mind.
“I find that sometimes trying to force creativity out when it's not coming naturally leads to more stress and frustration”, Kaeya fell silent for a moment to think. “Creative blocks are quite common and sometimes it helps to take a step away from work.”
Mika wasn’t used to avoiding work so it sounded strange to him that the best way to finish the job would be to leave it alone. It might be wrong to think of the poem as work or an obligatory chore.
“T-thank you for the book. I’m sure it will help!” He clutched the book in his hands. At any moment Mika might get an order to go on an expedition so he wanted to get the poem started before that happened.
He knew himself well enough to know that once he got buried in his work, he wouldn’t focus on anything else.
“I recommend that you don't follow the guidebooks too closely but focus on what you feel”, Kaeya said and gave him a light tap on the shoulder, “good luck with your writing. I’m looking forward to reading what you come up with.”
Mika bowed deeply, mumbled ‘thank you’ and hurried away with the book in his hands.
Hours later Mika had buried himself into a small empty office in the corner of the Favonius headquarters. He sat in the corner of the room by a writing desk with a big pile of books and a cup of tea getting cold right by his side. It had been a week since the last Windblume festival so most workers were having a day off since everything had quieted down.
Mika sighed as he looked at the crumpled parchment before him. He folded the sheet into a neat square before putting it away in the trash bin.
The book he got from the Cavalry Captain laid next to him. Mika had read parts of it, but he felt like he didn’t completely understand it. He picked up the book again, hoping to find the missing link that would make him know how to write poems.
The pages felt rough under his fingers when he browsed through it. A sentence caught his eyes.
‘Poetry is about sharing your own experience and emotions.
Before you can share your feelings and experiences through poetry, it's crucial to engage in self-reflection.’
What did Mika want to express with his poetry?
Mika dug out another sheet and his quill.
‘I’ll make a simple list of what I like about Venti’, he decided. Even if it got too embarrassing, he would keep on it. That way he could reorganize his thoughts.
The bard had a great sense of melody and rhythm, and his songs were full of charm and charisma.
Mika especially loved how the lyrics always seemed to carry a deeper meaning, despite their lighthearted nature. Yet even the heavier songs managed to be uplifting.
Venti’s presence was calming and refreshing like the warm spring wind. Sure, Mika had never managed to hold a long and detailed conversation with the bard, but Mika had always felt cherished when talking with him.
Mika studied the list intently.
With a frustrated shake of his head, he set aside the quill, starting to think that some things were simply too beautiful to be captured by mere words. At least by his words.
He leaned forward and rested his head on his arms.
‘Maybe… I shouldn’t pay too much thought on rules’, he figured.
Everyone he had talked to had focused on the importance of one’s own emotions and now even the book was telling him that. But he liked rules. They gave him a sense of security; he knew what was expected and how to meet those expectations.
Rules were like a well-defined map, guiding and showing him the right way.
He closed his eyes and focused on the sound of his own breathing. The corner office was empty, and the corridors were also quieting down. Mika could hear muffled voices coming from the city square; people were calming down from the previous festivities, so the city was a bit quieter than usual, but Mondstadt was always lively.
All the sounds of Mondstadt waked up old memories.
Happy memories like family expeditions to the countrysides of Mondstadt. In his mind Mika saw the lush forests, crystal-clear river streams and meadows full of Dandelions. His mother would take notes and capture the essence of these uncharted lands with her pen and paper.
But he also remembered sad memories like the nights he spent alone listening to these same sounds when his brother was at work – or getting drunk at a tavern. Mika remembered the fights and arguments he and his brother had when it was just the two of them.
He remembered the letters he got from his parents when they were aboard on a journey. The anticipation, the excitement of opening one. Huffman, despite his busy schedule as a Knight, would often join Mika in reading these letters, sharing in the wonder of their parents' adventures.
He thought about those moments occasionally but now he was remembering them clearer than ever.
He remembered so much that his head was buzzing with thoughts and emotions.
With new determination, he picked up a blank sheet of paper. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, and then he started to write.