Work Text:
Venti's lyre was tuned, and off he went away to the skies of the world. Perhaps this was what life would be? A cheeky God hoped as he flew. Though only finest tunes and melody played from his lyre, he still wished to learn further; A great old wolf, a grumpy dragon, just more to sing of when the sky came.
Why would it matter of what he sang of? Everything was a tale deserved to be told, and lyrics were his best art either way. A learned skill from the past, as they sometimes said.
Venti flew through the dark, his heart beating as his wings ached from the fight with corrupt.
Alas, not everyone was so lucky to miss that arrow in the heart, as it came from afar, to hit a boy with a lyre - and a determined heart.