Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

When Kaeya enters Jean’s office to submit his reconnaissance report, to his surprise, someone else is already there.

"Acting Grand Master," Lawrence says from just inside the office, "we have another noise complaint."

Kaeya leans against the doorway, raising an eyebrow as Lawrence enters the room, placing the report atop the growing stack of papers on Jean's desk. Sighing quietly, Jean just rubs tiredly at the bridge of her nose, before offering him a curt nod.

"Thank you, Lawrence," she says. "I will deal with the complaint shortly."

Pushing off the doorway, Kaeya saunters past Lawrence and picks the document up off the stack, casually beginning to flip through it. Jean shoots him a stern look, but does not tell him to put it back down, so it can’t be that confidential.

"It's from one of the sisters," Kaeya observes, and reads aloud. "Perpetrator scaled statue outside church while drunk and sang loudly for three hours."

Lawrence lets out a delicate cough as Kaeya looks up at him, raising an eyebrow.

"The complainant asked me to reiterate that this is the third complaint this month," Lawrence adds, and Jean closes her eyes for a brief moment.

"Is it the same sister as the last time?" she asks shortly.

"The one who is always standing in front of the church, yes," Lawrence confirms.

"And did anyone else who was in the vicinity at the time complain?" Jean asks.

"No," Lawrence admits.

When Jean holds out her hand, Kaeya passes the complaint over wordlessly. She pulls her desk drawer open, lays the document inside, and then shuts the drawer again with a firm click.

"To be fair," Lawrence adds, into the ensuing silence, "I think everyone else was quite charmed. Venti is an excellent bard, and his ballads are always amusing."

"I am well-aware," Jean says primly.

Lawrence hesitates for a moment longer.

"You're not actually going to censure him, are you?" he asks, sounding vaguely concerned now.

Jean sighs, and reaches up to rub at her temples. After a moment, she signs the document in front of her, before setting it aside.

"No," she finally says. "I'm not."

Lawrence looks a little more placated at that.

"Alright then," he says. "I'll be returning to my post. Have a good day."

Kaeya waits until the door has shut behind him, before turning back to Jean with a raised eyebrow.

"The third complaint this month?" he repeats, perching on the side of her desk. "What's in that drawer? The other complaints? Looks like a pretty thick stack."

When she does not immediately reply, he reaches out for the desk drawer. Jean swats his hand away without looking up from her paperwork.

“Wow,” he says. “What’s with the sudden secrecy?”

"Don't you have work to do, Sir Kaeya?" Jean sighs, sounding tired.

"And breaking out the titles too," Kaeya notes. "My work can wait for three seconds. What do the other complaints say?"

"How is that even relevant—"

"Satisfy my curiosity," Kaeya cuts in.

At that, Jean finally looks up, frowning.

"Are you suggesting that the knights should step in?" she asks incredulously.

"No," Kaeya says. "But when Sara came to you about a missing leg of ham last week, you personally investigated it. And this week, when Diona said that one of the cats had gotten out and returned with meat in its teeth, you went and spoke with Margaret about the cats."

"So you think I should talk to the church about Venti?" she asks, and raises an eyebrow. "I've already done that."

"No, I just thought—" Kaeya pauses midway through his sentence, and then blinks. "Wait, you spoke to the church?"

"Yes, I did," Jean says, exasperated, before looking back down, scratching a comment onto her notepad with unnecessary aggression. "I told them that Venti meant no harm and that we've never forbidden people from climbing the statue. Celestia knows that enough people scale it every week to release dandelion seeds to the winds."

Kaeya just blinks again.

"You spoke to the church," he repeats disbelievingly.

At that, Jean finally sets down her quill.

"What is it that strikes you as so odd about this situation?" she asks, folding her hands together.

"I was expecting that I'd have to talk you out of speaking to Venti," Kaeya says, incredulous. "Are you really not going to talk to him at all?"

“I have more than enough on my plate without having to intervene with the personal matters of the citizenry,” Jean says stiffly. “We’re having trade safety issues with Sumeru again, and with Weinlesefest coming up soon, no one wants to take up a job involving long-distance travel.”

“That’s not what you said about Margaret and the cats,” Kaeya points out.

Jean is quiet for a long moment, before finally, she just sighs. She picks her quill back up, signs the document in front of her, and then sets the document aside.

"Venti," she says tiredly, "can do what he wants."

Some years back, Kaeya had had the opportunity to receive a member of the Liyue Qixing in a diplomatic capacity. It had been just shy of Ludi Harpastum when she had arrived, and as he had taken her around the city, she had noted the sleepy cheer overtaking the populace, the noticeable lull with most shops — save the eateries — closing at the half-day mark, and the majority of the workforce knocking off early to head to the taverns.

That’s just Mondstadt for you, Kaeya had said, amused. No one wants to work ahead of festivals.

The Lady Yuheng had pursed her lips, looking a little skeptical at that, but after a moment, she had just nodded.

I suppose things pick back up after Ludi Harpastum, she had granted, to which Kaeya had simply laughed.

Not really, he had said jovially. No one wants to work right after festivals either, so there’s usually a long period of rest after Ludi Harpastum, and by the time that’s done, everyone’s preparing for Windblume.

To that, the Lady Yuheng had stopped in her tracks, looked at him quite incredulously, and seemingly at the limits of her ability for diplomacy, had remarked — it’s a wonder anything ever gets done in this city.

He had decided not to mention that Weinlesefest always follows shortly after Windblume.

But indeed, in the lovely city of Mondstadt, people live relaxed and slow-paced lives. It’s a leisurely city full of leisurely people, and while Kaeya admits that the lifestyle isn’t suited for everyone, it’s something he’s grown to love and appreciate about the place that has become his home. He definitely can’t imagine living in restless Liyue, where the harbor and the business it brings never quite seems to sleep.

And so, with Weinlesefest just on the horizon, it is still bright out by the time Kaeya knocks off for the day. Coming down the stairs from headquarters with Otto, Bruce, and Aramis in tow, their cheerful chatter trails off at the drifting sounds of singing, coming from the direction of the plaza. Drawn by that familiar voice, they stroll over to the ledge, looking down over the balustrade to spot a familiar figure standing down by the fountain.

Surrounded by a small crowd, Venti seems to be at the tail-end of a ballad Kaeya has never heard before. As the last strum of his lyre fades, slowly, into silence, the crowd erupts in delighted applause. Laughing, Venti bows once, and again. He has taken off his beret for the performance. It lies upside down on the floor before him, filled with a decently generous amount of mora.

“Looks like he has his wine money for tonight,” Aramis observes with a laugh.

“We’ll be having some good entertainment tonight then,” Bruce says eagerly. “He’s an absolute riot with a few drinks in him.”

Kaeya watches as Venti disappears around the corner towards the Angel’s Share, before turning around with a conspiratory look.

“Apparently he's drunkenly climbed the statue outside the church three times this month,” he gossips. “The church sent Jean a noise complaint.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Otto comments. “The city has never prohibited people from climbing the statue, but Sister Victoria has had it out for him since she caught him eating an apple off the harvest display last Ludi Harpastum.”

“He did what?!” Kaeya demands, and unable to help himself, bursts out laughing. The rest of the knights join in.

“He ate an apple off the harvest display when he thought no one was looking,” Otto repeats, chuckling good-naturedly. “Sister Victoria was furious, said those were an offering to Lord Barbatos.”

“I highly doubt Lord Barbatos would object to people eating apples off the harvest display,” Bruce defends.

“Tell that to Sister Victoria,” Otto retorts. “She had me deliver a strongly worded complaint letter to the Acting Grandmaster, but I don't think the complaint went anywhere. Truth be told, the Acting Grandmaster somehow seemed more upset that the bard had been thrown out of the church than about the actual complaint.”

“Have we all delivered complaint letters?” Aramis questions, delighted.

“What complaint did you deliver?” Kaeya asks curiously.

Aramis shoots a discreet look over to the side, before leaning in.

“You know the two Fatui always stationed over there?” he mutters, shooting a meaningful look to their left. “Apparently, the bard was once singing a truly ridiculous ballad in the plaza about how Lord Barbatos supposedly pranked the Cryo Archon by stealing her scepter and replacing it with a hilichurl’s club. It didn't agree with the Fatui guy, so he sent in a noise complaint.”

“That guy's a complete nationalist zealot,” Bruce complains. “I've heard him talking to his colleague multiple times while passing on the way to the Angel’s Share.”

“Speaking of that ballad,” Otto muses, “Sister Gotelinde once overheard the bard singing a similar one while out on an errand for the church. She also sent in a complaint.”

“I can't believe Jean is letting him get away with all of this,” Kaeya says, a little wonderingly.

“He doesn't mean any harm,” Bruce defends quickly. “Doesn't everyone always have fun when he's around?”

“He’s an absolute riot,” Aramis agrees fondly. “I wouldn't mind hearing another one of those ridiculous ballads tonight.”

“I hope he plays something we can sing along to,” Bruce interjects. “It always gets the crowd going.”

“Diluc’s going to hate that,” Kaeya says, laughing.

With a final chuckle between them all, they begin to make their way past the two Fatui and down the stairs towards the Angel’s Share.

By the time they make it to the tavern, the tables are already decently full. Kaeya waves the others off towards the second floor, where he knows Bruce always sits, and saunters over to the counter instead. Venti's standing in the corner chatting with Quinn, Nimrod, and Jack. It seems he hasn't started his set yet.

Turning back to his brother, Kaeya seats himself on one of the bar stools with a grin and a wink.

“Looks like the good Master Diluc is on shift today,” he teases. “One Death After Noon please.”

“Off early again?” Diluc questions stone-facedly, even as he turns away to begin preparing the drink. “The inefficiency of the Knights of Favonius truly knows no bounds.”

“Who works around Weinlesefest anyway?” Kaeya retorts.

“Weinlesefest is a full two and a half weeks away,” Diluc deadpans.

“Doesn't seem to stop anyone from knocking off early,” Kaeya points out. “Are you keeping the winery staff working full days?”

“No,” Diluc admits, and pushes a long-stemmed cocktail glass across the counter. “Your drink.”

Kaeya opens his mouth, but before he can say more, Nimrod approaches, already swaying as he leans his hip against the counter with a hiccup. He's probably been here for hours, knowing him.

“Another round of whatever we were having at the table,” Nimrod says, slurring a little. “And a dandelion wine for the bard.”

“Of course,” Diluc says.

Kaeya leaves him to his drink-mixing. In any case, from the testing strum of a lyre behind, it seems like their resident bard is about to begin the first song of the night. He turns around in his seat, gladly settling in for a show.

The rest of the afternoon draws long in a blur of laughter and festive cheer. As day turns to evening, and then to night, the tavern grows ever-livelier— and ever- rowdier, everyone already in anticipation of the coming holidays and in a celebratory mood. As empty mugs gather around him, Venti's choice of song transits slowly from epic ballads to funnier tales of mischief, before moving gradually into the realm of outrageous and increasingly vulgar sea shanties.

The tavern is screaming with laughter at the end of one of those particular shanties, when a drunken cry issues from the second floor.

“A drink for the bard!” Bruce shouts to Diluc, before waving to catch Venti’s attention. “Play something we can sing along to!”

“Thank you, my good knight,” Venti calls up to him.

He draws a finger melodically down the strings of his lyre as he seems to consider what song to sing next.

“Something the crowd can sing along to,” he muses to himself, before turning to grin in the direction of the counter. “Well, does our lovely bartender have any song requests?”

Diluc doesn't look up from the drink he's mixing.

“Anything that isn't One Hundred Bottles of Rum,” he says curtly.

Venti bursts into laughter, before turning back to the rest of the tavern with a sly look in his eye.

“Did you hear that?” he calls gleefully. “Anything but One Hundred Bottles of Rum. Do you know what that means?”

Nimrod jumps to his feet, and raises his mug.

“Ohhhhhh—” he begins jovially.

“I’ve changed my mind,” Diluc says quickly, but it's too late.

The entire tavern erupts in drunken song.

“One hundred bottles of rum on the wall, one hundred bottles of rum!” they chorus.

Venti laughs, cupping his hands around his mouth to be heard over the din.

“You take one down and pass it around!” he shouts.

“Ninety-nine bottles of rum on the wall!” the tavern roars in response.

As the crowd goes wild, continuing rowdily into the rest of the song, Diluc bows his head, lowering his face into one hand. Charles pats him sympathetically on the shoulder, but is clearly holding back a smile. Kaeya, on the other hand, laughs openly at Diluc’s expense.

“Think we’re going to get a noise complaint tonight?” he teases.

“I think everyone's used to the din that's always coming from here,” Diluc says flatly. “Especially this close to Weinlesefest.”

“Well, Mondstadt is the city of wine and song, after all!” Cyrus booms from a nearby table. “Cheers to us, and cheers to the land of the free!”

As he rejoins the tavern in song, very much off-tune, but not letting that stop him from singing at the top of his lungs, Kaeya chuckles, leaning in so that the rest of their conversation won’t be overheard.

“Won't be the first time a noise complaint has been sent to the knights because of the good bard,” he tells Diluc with a mischievous wink. “Though usually, the complaints are about the bard himself, not the crowd he's riled up.”

“It's a wonder he hasn't gotten into trouble yet,” Diluc says dryly. “Jean truly has the patience of a saint. I certainly do not have that much patience.”

He shoots a look over at Venti, but Venti does not seem to notice, busy clinking glasses with a clearly inebriated Quinn, who is also singing as loud as he can.

“Indeed,” Diluc adds sardonically, “my patience is, at this very moment, wearing thin.”

Laughing, Kaeya shifts in his seat, turning to face the rest of the tavern. Listening in, they seem to be finishing up the eighty-sixth bottle of rum.

“You take one down and pass it around,” the crowd choruses jovially.

Kaeya cups his hands around his mouth.

“Seventy-five bottles of rum on the wall!” he shouts.

“Seventy-five bottles of rum on the wall, seventy-five bottles of rum,” the intoxicated crowd picks up happily.

Venti tips back in his seat, laughing raucously, before shaking his head, wagging his finger over the tavern at Kaeya. He's clearly a lot less inebriated than he should be given the sheer number of empty glasses gathered around him.

“You take one down and pass it around—”

“Eighty-five bottles of rum on the wall!” Venti calls out quickly, and then raises his glass to Kaeya with a wink.

Kaeya laughs, accepting the thrown gauntlet, waiting patiently as the crowd sings the rest of the verse.

“You take one down and pass—”

“Sixty-four bottles of rum on the wall!” Kaeya shouts before they can finish.

There's a slightly confused pause, but the majority of the tavern soon picks cheerfully up from where Kaeya left off.

“Sixty-four bottles of rum on the wall, sixty-four bottles of rum—”

“Hey, wait, that's not right!” Bruce calls drunkenly over the railing of the second floor. “Weren't we… weren't we at seventy? How did we get to sixty?”

“I could have sworn we were at eighty!” Payne agrees.

The crowd erupts into a cacophony of raised voices, everyone speaking rowdily over one another in agreement and disagreement both.

“So are we at eighty or seventy or sixty?” Jack calls out confusedly. “Does anyone remember?”

There's another cacophony of confused shouting, before Nimrod’s slurred voice booms over the din.

“If we can't remember,” Nimrod shouts eagerly, “then I say we start from one hundred all over again!”

“Yeah!” the crowd roars in agreement.

The bard all but falls over his seat laughing, but soon joins the rest in song, egging them raucously on with the enthusiastic accompaniment of his lyre. As the song begins thusly again, Kaeya turns back to Diluc.

“Well,” he says good-naturedly, “I tried.”

A good twenty minutes later, the song finally draws to a close, erupting into a truly deafening chorus of cheers. A moment later, a lone voice rises above the din from the back of the tavern, warbling and off-tune— “What will we do with a drunken sailor? What will we do with a drunken sailor?”

“What will we do with a drunken sailor?” Cyrus booms.

“Early in the morning!” the tavern choruses.

As the crowd picks up with the familiar shanty, Venti collects whatever he had earned that wasn't offered in the form of the glasses laying empty around him. The tavern is too absorbed in song to ply him with the usual incessant requests for encores.

Venti ambles slowly towards the counter, stopping here and there as he's waylaid by a cheerful customer or two. As he finally draws even with the bar, he rests an elbow on the countertop, leaning forward to push his bowl of mora over to an unamused Diluc.

“Enough for a bottle of dandelion wine to go?” he asks hopefully.

Charles looks up from the mug he's wiping down, shooting Diluc a glance, but Diluc isn't looking his way and doesn't notice. Folding his arms, Diluc raises an eyebrow instead.

“Just short of enough,” he says, and pauses a moment, before continuing more reluctantly. “But in light of the coming Weinlesefest, you can consider it a gift of sorts. Charles, can you retrieve a bottle from the top shelf?”

Charles shoots Diluc an incredulous glance, but once again, Diluc doesn't notice. After a moment, Charles bites his lip, but turns around to reach for the top shelf.

“My good master Diluc!” Venti cries, delighted.

Kaeya whistles appreciatively.

“The top shelf, huh?” he says.

That's where Diluc keeps the vintages, but at the warning look Diluc shoots him, he guesses that Diluc doesn't want Venti knowing for whatever reason. Either way, just short of enough is seeming rather more like not even nearly enough, but Kaeya refrains from saying so.

Charles soon returns with the bottle, which Venti eagerly accepts. It vanishes immediately into his cloak, probably tucked away in the same mysterious space he sends his lyre to when he's not playing it — the movement is as quick as the wind, as if to preclude Diluc from changing his mind.

A moment later, however, those teal eyes soften. Venti gives a gentle nod.

“My good master Diluc,” he says again, quieter this time, but filled with infinitely more fondness. “Your offering is noted, and accepted with thanks.”

Diluc is quiet for a moment, before he scoffs, and turns away.

“This is a once-a-year thing,” he says shortly.

“Of course,” Venti allows, and waves his fingers gently in farewell. “The night draws late. I shall take my leave.”

He disappears through the door and into the night, leaving the tavern in a high, festive mood, with people still singing drunkenly along to various shanties and well-known ballads. As the door closes behind him, however, Charles steps closer to Diluc, lowering his voice.

“A word, Master Diluc?” he murmurs.

“Go ahead,” Diluc says.

“We've always allowed customers to both buy drinks directly, or to place orders with the bar for the bard, which he can claim at his leisure,” Charles begins. “Upon checking the accounts this month, however, I found that the bard has been allowed to claim far many more drinks than customers have actually bought for him.”

The careful way he's speaking, deliberately worded in passive voice, signals to Kaeya that these discrepancies are very likely happening when Diluc is behind the counter. Kaeya knows the winery staff, and he knows that Charles is much too meticulous to have made such a blunder.

“Is that so?” Diluc asks mildly, after a moment.

“Yes,” Charles confirms, before continuing. “That bard drinks a truly astronomical amount. From my calculations, his tab is soon nearing the four digit mark. I think we need to cut him off and refuse him service the next time he asks for a drink.”

“No,” Diluc says immediately. “Keep serving him.”

There's a moment of silence.

“Sir?” Charles finally asks.

“Keep serving him,” Diluc repeats.

There's another moment of silence, Charles seeming registering his words with a fair amount incredulity.

“But sir—” he protests.

“Venti can do what he wants,” Diluc cuts in. “Just leave him be, Charles.”

Charles hesitates for a moment, before he nods.

“Of course,” he says.

As he returns to wiping down used glasses, Kaeya turns to Diluc with both eyebrows raised.

“And so the curtains fall, and the truth is at last revealed,” he gloats, “our darling Master Diluc is gentle at heart after all!”

“I don't know what you mean,” Diluc says flatly.

“You have a soft spot for him,” Kaeya teases mercilessly.

“I do not have a soft spot for Venti,” Diluc denies.

“Then what was that about?” Kaeya questions. “A bottle from the top shelf? It was unlabeled. A custom brew?”

“We've been making a fair amount of those in light of the coming Weinlesefest,” Diluc defends. “And Venti brings in customers.”

Kaeya squints at him.

“Are you hiding something from me?” he asks suspiciously.

Diluc just sighs.

“I'm not hiding anything,” he says, but he's not looking at Kaeya. Kaeya looks carefully at him for a moment longer, before it hits him.

“Wait,” he chokes out. “Do you— like Venti? In that way?” 

He doesn't know what to feel about it. 

Diluc visibly balks. 

“What? No!” he splutters. “What are you even— I wouldn't—”

Mindful of his own tone, Kaeya backtracks a little.

“I mean, no one will say that he's bad to look at, all wide-eyed and pink-cheeked,” he grants reluctantly. “It's just that he's so young—”  

“Do not talk about him that way,” Diluc snaps, sharp and strangely stern. “It's disrespectful.”

Kaeya is shocked for a moment. A wave of numbness washes over him a moment later. It's been awhile since he's heard Diluc sound like that. They’d been doing so well, but now he can't help but wonder if he's finally pushed things too far once more.

“I'm sorry,” he says quickly.

At his apology, however, Diluc seems to immediately deflate, anger going as quickly as it had come.

“Kaeya…” he begins regretfully.

“I was just—” Kaeya starts again.

Diluc grabs Kaeya's wrist before he can step back from the counter. There's a moment of silence between them, before Diluc finally sighs. Then, he reaches out, and pokes Kaeya right between his eyebrows. 

Kaeya is suddenly thrown back to their childhood, when he would do the same to Diluc, telling him that if he keeps frowning like that, his face will get stuck that way.

“You,” Diluc finally says, “are very drunk.” 

Kaeya blinks, before smiling, a little sheepishly. 

“So we're okay?” he asks quietly.

“We’re okay,” Diluc confirms, before he pauses. “And I'm not interested in Venti.”

“Okay, good,” Kaeya says, with some relief, “because as I was saying before, he's too young for you.”

Surprisingly, Diluc just sighs, rubbing tiredly at the bridge of his nose.

“He's older than he looks,” he says dryly. “Trust me, I wouldn't be serving drinks to him otherwise.”

Kaeya can't help but raise an eyebrow at that.

“You seem to know more about him than you're letting on,” he observes. “I don't think he's ever told me his age, and I drink with him whenever business at the tavern is slow, especially early in the evening, or near closing time. He always avoids the question. How old is he anyway?”

There's a moment of silence. Finally, Diluc checks his watch, and then clears his throat.

“Speaking of which, it is getting late,” he notes. “We are nearly fifteen minutes past closing.”

The tavern has quietened down since the end of their impromptu rendition of A Drunken Sailor, but there are a number of people in the corner still warbling out some of the better-known shanties. Diluc raises his voice a little to be heard over their singing.

“Alright, get out!” he cries crankily. “All of you! Bar is closed!”

There are some joking jeers, but everyone obediently begins to stand, downing the last of their drinks. 

“You know,” Kaeya says, as the crowd begins to exit the tavern good-naturedly, “I still feel like you're hiding something from me.”

As Charles exits from behind the counter to wipe down the tables, Diluc turns away to hang the mug he was washing up on the rack.

“Is this also connected to Jean’s strange soft spot for him?” Kaeya asks.

Diluc scoffs noncommittally.

“So that means yes,” Kaeya notes delightedly.

Diluc rolls his eyes, and just continues to clean up.

“Just you wait,” Kaeya continues, after a moment, “I'm going to find out all of your dirty secrets. The both of you.” 

At that, Diluc turns around to shoot him an exasperated look, but there is an air of fondness to it.

“Get out,” he says. “You're drunk, and we’re closed.”

Kaeya raises his hands, chuckling, and begins to get up. He stumbles a bit as he does so. It looks like he really is a little drunk.

“Alright, alright,” he allows. “I'll get out of your hair.”

Turning away, Diluc continues to hang the washed and dried mugs up. Kaeya joins the tide of people pouring out of the tavern into the late night air.

“Where’d Venti go off so early anyway?” Jack wonders, slurring.

“Maybe he was drunk,” Quinn guesses. “He had a lot tonight.”

“Nah,” Nimrod says, mellow with wine and beer. “If he really was that drunk, Master Diluc would have let him crash in the spare room at the back of the tavern.”

The crowd laughs again at that.

Oh, Diluc definitely has a soft spot for the bard, and with the intuition that has given Kaeya his position as Mondstadt’s top investigator and informant, he can tell that there's some kind of secret there.

Perhaps that also explains Jean’s uncharacteristic permissiveness.

The hunting instinct within Kaeya seems to light up in interest at that. Usually, he tries to stay out of his friends’ business, but his intuition tells him that whatever this whole thing is, it's not a sinister one. It seems very well like something he can come back to tease both Diluc and Jean about.

As the drunken crowd disperses into the night with an easy-going chatter, Kaeya heads home, unable to suppress the smirk rising to his face. He's absolutely going to figure out this secret, he vows to himself. And then, he's absolutely going to come back to tease Diluc and Jean about it.

Laughing to himself, he vanishes quietly into the night.

Chapter Text

The very next day, Kaeya sets to his new task with gusto, but is somewhat surprised when his usual information network brings nothing of note up.

“The bard?” Vile asks, somewhat disbelievingly. “Why would I have anything on him? He's just a bard." She narrows her eyes. "Unless you have some reason to investigate him?”

“A darling boy with a darling voice and a darling smile,” the elderly Grandma Gertrude gushes at the weekly knitting club meet.

“He definitely has a sweet face,” agrees Grandma Agnes, before reaching out to pat Kaeya fondly on the arm. “But of course, our Sir Kaeya is the most charming of them all. When will you let me introduce my granddaughter?”

“Absolutely not!” Mona cries, inexplicably upset when Kaeya drops by with a timely basket of groceries. “I'm not risking that again!”

She slams the door shut, but not before accepting the produce. Her voice issues from behind the door, muffled enough that Kaeya can't tell for sure if he's accurately heard what she said.

“Some people's fates are not meant to be scried!” she shouts.

Quite baffled, Kaeya soon turns to his other informants over at the local taverns.

“He's a good kid and a talented bard,” Patton says when asked. “I buy him a drink whenever I can. I do suspect that he's homeless.”

“Oh?” Kaeya asks, and Patton huffs.

“I mean,” he begins, “it doesn't appear that he lives in Mondstadt City, so where does he live? Where does he go during the day when he isn't singing at the Angel’s Share?”

“Alas!” Six-Fingered Jose cries from just inside the open door. “Is that not the life of a bard? To sacrifice material wealth for the sake of our art, and thus live penniless lives?”

He sighs, shaking his head, even as he reaches out a hand to hold the closing door open.

“Venti may have stolen the majority of my audience,” he laments out at them, “but somehow, I can't find it in myself to mind. Most of the time, I can't help but listen and be enchanted as well! He sings beautifully and his stories are captivating. He can make you laugh and cry. But no matter how successful, a bard's life is still a bard's life! Sleeping on the streets and living by the dime!”

“Jose,” Patton says. “You own a house in the city.”

When Kaeya enters the tavern some time later, the place has already filled up despite the relatively early hour. 

Amidst the usual regulars, the green uniform of the adventurer’s guild stands out starkly from the crowd of plain-clothed residents. Jack and Cyrus are the most familiar of the bunch, being based primarily out of Mondstadt, but there are some less familiar faces that Kaeya recognizes, after a moment, as those who had left on various expeditions, now back for the festivities. He even spots a fair number of foreigners, some he knows to be Liyuens from across Stone Gate, but some he suspects are Inazumans from the newly reopened nation.

“Captain Kaeya!” Cyrus booms, raising his mug in greeting.

A chorus of friendly voices ring out as Kaeya raises his hand in a small wave. As he makes for his usual seat at the counter, however, Cyrus beckons him over, pulling a chair over from the empty table behind him. After a moment’s hesitation, Kaeya goes to join the table of adventurers.

“And this,” Cyrus announces, “is the good Captain Kaeya of the Knights of Favonius!” He turns to Kaeya with a wink. “The lady here was just saying that she had never met a knight before coming to Mondstadt. It's been awhile since they've been able to cross the seas to see the world!"

“Inazuma?” Kaeya guesses, taking a seat. “Have you been enjoying Mondstadt so far?”

“Very much,” says the lady, with a small smile. “Your bard here knows quite a few Inazuman folk songs.”

“Though I must say,” the woman beside her, a Liyuen adventurer Kaeya has seen a few times, interjects cheekily, “his Liyuen is much better than his Inazuman.”

“Hey!” Venti squawks from his usual high stool. “I can’t help that Inazuma is oceans and seas away. Liyue, on the other hand, is just across the border!”

“Sing us another then!” the Liyuen woman challenges. “I’d like to see just how many songs you know!”

Venti laughs.

“There is not a single song I do not know,” he says, eyes gleaming with mirth, “whether it be past, present, or future.”

The table bursts into a round of ooo’s. After a moment, the Inazuman woman leans forward, looking intrigued.

“That's quite a boast,” she says.

“It's not a boast, dear madame!” Venti cries, lifting his lyre up onto his hip. “I am, after all, the greatest bard in all of Mondstadt!”

With that, he begins the opening strum of a clearly Liyuen tune, deft fingers skillfully mimicking the distinct thrill of a Liyuen zither.

“O’ jasmine, fair— jasmine, fair!”  he begins in a lilting tone. “Budding here and blooming there! Pure and fragrant, do all declare! Let me pick you with tender care!” ^[1]

The evening passes in revelry and good cheer. Kaeya stays at the adventurers’ table for the rest of it, chatting amicably with adventurers both foreign and familiar. The empty mugs pile up by Venti’s stool as the night goes on, the bard making good on his boast with a number of Inazuman and Liyuen folk songs, including one sung in what had sounded like a fairly decent attempt at a Qiaoying dialect, woven amidst the usual fare of entertaining ballads and other tavern favorites.

It's about half an hour before closing when Venti stands, laughing off the scattered calls for an encore with a wave of his hand. There are some groans and joking jeers, but the crowd is intoxicated enough, the tavern still alit with the roar of rowdy conversation, that he's let off without too much heckling.

Kaeya waits for the door to swing shut behind Venti, before standing to follow.

The crowd barely notices him leaving.

By the time he emerges into the road outside, Venti is vanishing up the small flight of stairs towards the plaza. Moving soundlessly, Kaeya follows at a short distance, keeping to the shadows to avoid being seen. Reconnaissance work, while not strictly part of a calvary captain’s job scope, has nevertheless become a large part of the work he now does. It's something he's good at.

He is thus surprised when, halfway down the street towards the city gates, Venti pauses in step, turning his head slightly.

Kaeya immediately sinks back behind the canopy of the alchemy workshop, watching silently from the shadows. After a moment, however, Venti just chuckles quietly, before continuing calmly down the street. 

He does not turn around.

Instead of leaving the city, as Kaeya had originally suspected he would, Venti turns the corner towards the left instead. Kaeya emerges from his hiding spot and follows quickly but quietly. Passing the spot where Venti had stopped, however, his eyes are momentarily drawn by the newest message scrawled on the message board of the Cat’s Tail.

Ahhhh! I can't take it anymore! it reads. What a colossal idiot! After so many years of visiting his shop daily, why couldn't he take the hint!? Why would such a man be so stupid!

Kaeya has to hold a chuckle of his own at that. Looks like Beatrice is still having no luck with Quinn. Nevertheless, he quickly turns his attention back to his task, moving quickly down the street and turning left towards Flora’s flower store. Making the turn, he draws up short, surprised by what he finds.

There's no one there.

Confused, he walks quickly forward and looks around the next corner, but Venti isn’t there either. It's a long, straight stretch of road. There's no way Venti could have made it past this stretch so quickly, even at a dead sprint, and besides, this road leads right back towards the Angel’s Share. There’s absolutely nowhere else he could have gone, unless—

Kaeya turns to look consideringly up at the closed windows of the block beside him, knowing it to be a residential building.

Unless he lives on this street?

If that were the case, he could very well have simply entered his apartment before Kaeya turned the corner. This is a rather pricey piece of real estate, however. Could Venti really be living here?

After a moment longer of careful consideration, Kaeya just sighs, and resolves to try again tomorrow. With a final glance up at the darkened windows, he turns away, and begins the walk home for the night.

When he settles at his usual spot the next day, Diluc shoots him a look over the counter.

“I saw you leave right after Venti last night,” he says, unamused. “Were you tailing him?”

“I lost him when we turned the corner,” Kaeya admits.

Diluc sighs, even as he begins to scoop ice out of the tank below the counter, preparing a Death After Noon without being asked.

“Are you still up to no good?” he asks flatly, after a moment, and Kaeya can't help but offer a cheeky grin.

“I'm going to find out all of your secrets,” he promises. 

Diluc scoffs as he begins to rock the cocktail shaker back and forth over his shoulder.

“Isn't this stalking?” he questions sardonically. “Should I be worried?”

Kaeya pauses as Diluc sets down the shaker.

“Are you afraid that I'm going to frighten him?” he asks, more seriously. 

Diluc looks briefly surprised, and then, suddenly, he just looks tired, lowering his face into one hand with a sigh.

Kaeya isn't quite sure what to make of that.

“If he realizes that he's being followed and gets scared,” Kaeya offers, after a moment, “I'll come out so he can see that it's just me. I'm not in the habit of frightening non-combatant civilians.”

Diluc just sighs again, pouring out the contents of the shaker, and pushing a glass of Death After Noon across the counter, before turning away to wipe down the sink behind him. It feels like there's something to say there about his silence, but before Kaeya can probe Diluc further about it, the door opens and Venti, in a very much timely manner, strolls right in.

“Oh?” Venti says, looking around. “Looks like no one is here yet.”

“The evening crowd has yet to come in,” Diluc says.

“Well,” Venti says, and smiles, planting a hand on his hip jauntily. “A glass of dandelion wine for an outside table, then?”

“Will the good bard be open to company this afternoon?” Kaeya asks teasingly.

“Well, if it's Sir Kaeya, then this good bard would be more than happy to oblige!” Venti teases back, reaching out to collect the glass that Diluc has just poured for him.

Pretending not to notice the look that Diluc shoots at him, Kaeya picks up his own glass and stands, sketching a playful bow.

“After you,” he says.

They settle at a table near the entrance, clinking their glasses merrily, before beginning their conversation.

“Sir Kaeya is earlier than usual today,” Venti notes, lifting his glass to his lips.

“I finished my paperwork early,” Kaeya explains, and chuckles, taking his own sip. “Besides, I like to imagine that sitting in taverns is also part of my work sometimes.”

Venti laughs.

“Oh?” he asks, amused.

“You learn a lot of things from lips that have been loosened by a couple of glasses,” Kaeya explains. “Whether speaking with people of interest or listening in on their conversations, taverns are always a good place to find leads on an investigation.”

Venti tilts his head inquisitively.

“And is Sir Kaeya here on an investigation today?” he asks.

“Maybe,” Kaeya grants, and then winks, “but if the investigation is being done in an official capacity, then that's strictly confidential.”

“But is your investigation being done in an official capacity?” Venti questions.

His tone remains light, but in that moment, his gaze seems to sharpen. 

Kaeya blinks once, slow and deliberate, before he smiles. Across the table, Venti smiles pleasantly back at him, folding his hands atop one another with an innocent tilt of his head. 

The question goes unanswered.

Before either of them can pick the conversation back up, however, footsteps and voices begin echoing down the path towards the tavern. When Kaeya turns to look, he sees a familiar group approaching the tavern, adventurers and residents both, all laughing and chatting loudly.

“Looks like the evening crowd is here,” Venti notes good-naturedly, and stands. 

His expression softens as he turns back to Kaeya.

“Will you come inside as well, my good Sir Kaeya?” he asks more gently, before chiming out a laugh. “With my audience finally in place, I should begin my performance with haste! It simply won't do to run out of mora for my next drink, isn't that right?”

“No, of course,” Kaeya says immediately, standing as well. He reaches out to pull the door open for both of them, winking at Venti as he does so. “But I don't think you’ll need to worry about that next drink.”

He leans into the tavern.

“Another dandelion wine for the bard!” he calls jovially. “My treat!”

Venti laughs as he ducks through the doorway, turning to flash Kaeya a final smile as he settles on the high stool by the door.

“A knight after my own heart!” he teases, manifesting his lyre with a flourish.

He gives it a testing strum, before setting his palm flat against the strings to stop the sound. Raising his chin, he looks down at Kaeya with a grin.

“Come then, my good knight!” he cries, holding out a hand in cheerful glee. “Request a song, and I shall deliver my all!”

That night, when Venti leaves again just short of closing time, Kaeya gives it a few moments before he stands as well, nodding in farewell to those he passes, before heading out the door and into the night.

The vanishing end of a teal cloak signals that Venti has once more gone up the stairs towards the plaza. Keeping to the shadows, Kaeya quietly tails him. Venti’s heeled shoes click lightly against the stone as he heads down the path towards the city gates with a sprightly gait, humming a little under his breath. This time, however, when he reaches the crossroads, he turns right instead of left.

Moving swiftly, Kaeya follows him around the corner. It could have only been a few seconds since Venti had disappeared from his sight, but when Kaeya turns the corner, the street is empty once more.

Venti is gone.

Kaeya stands there for a moment, confused, and a little frustrated. The day before, he had reasoned that the bard could very well have been living on the street he'd vanished on, that he'd simply gone into his apartment while Kaeya was turning the corner. This time, however, Venti had turned down a different street altogether. 

The night is quiet save for the singing of crickets outside the city walls. The clicking of Venti's heeled boots and his gentle humming are nowhere to be heard. For all intents and purposes, it seems like Venti had simply vanished upon exiting Kaeya’s line of sight.

Kaeya takes one step forward, and then another, peering behind the crates of Wagner’s forge for good measure. As he turns back to the moonlit path, however, he notices something that wasn't there before.

A lone feather lays in the center of the pavement, so pure and unblemished a white that it seems to glow in the night. Kaeya approaches carefully, crouching to examine it but not touching it just yet, exactly like how he would treat any piece of evidence on an actual crime scene. To his surprise, however, the feather dissolves before his very eyes into a smattering of teal light, dispersing to the winds in the shape of glowing dandelion seeds.

Within seconds, the seeds are gone as well, leaving no trace nor evidence behind.

Day three of his investigation starts a little slow. A rather sizeable stack of paperwork had inexplicably come in overnight, bringing with it a rather sizeable headache. 

The majority of the letters in the stack concern the trade safety issues they've been facing recently in Sumeru. From what Kaeya can tell, preliminary investigations seem to indicate that Mondstadt’s shipments are being disproportionately targeted by banditry, but without someone going down to investigate personally, they won't be able to tell why exactly Mondstadt is being targeted.

In the end, he can only summarize the contents of the reports, putting together a mission brief for the reconnaissance work that will have to come after. Finding a person to make the trip, however, will likely have to wait until after Weinlesefest. 

No one wants to take on a mission involving long-distance travel right now.

When Kaeya finally reaches the tavern, there’s a decent enough crowd, but not the one that Kaeya is used to. The usual residents have yet to arrive. Instead, the tavern is filled only with the adventurers from the days before. Venti is sitting amidst the crowd, lyre tucked under one arm.

“And if we're talking about unforgettable sights, then the Divine Tree is not to be missed!” he cries, before gesturing high with his hand. “Sitting at the center of the city, it stands perhaps two— maybe even three times as tall as the tree at Windrise, with large twining branches, and the most exquisite of gazebos nestled amidst its boughs.”

“I hear there’s a library housed atop that tree,” Jack says eagerly.

“Is that really possible?” the Inazuman lady asks doubtfully. “Would a tree really be able to support that much weight?”

“Is it not the land of dendro and wisdom?” Venti questions, and laughs. “That tree is one of the oldest trees in all of Tevyat.”

It seems that the city’s favorite bard isn't singing today. Instead, mindful of his audience, he appears to be telling anecdotes of faraway places. As Kaeya approaches the table, the adventurers break from the conversation to greet him.

“Where are the usuals?” Kaeya asks, addressing Jack and Cyrus. “Nimrod? Quinn?”

“Well, it's the last working day before public holidays officially start, isn't it?” Cyrus says. “They are probably finishing the last of their work before Weinlesefest begins.”

Right. That's probably why the letters had all come in today.

Kaeya’s position being what it is, when important work comes in, it has to be addressed regardless of whether it is a public holiday or not— and so, Kaeya isn't much in the habit of keeping track of public holidays.

“You speak like you've been there,” Anna cuts in then. She's looking at their resident bard with large, eager eyes. “Sumeru, that is. Have you?”

With that, the conversation returns to its previous topic.

“Perhaps I have,” Venti says, with a smile, and a wink. “Or perhaps it's merely the tales that one hears as a bard!”

“Tell us about Fontaine!” Jack cries.

“Have you ever seen Romaritime Harbor from the Sumeran desert?” Venti immediately picks back up. “The land of Fontaine lies risen up in the waters, and all around it, water gushes down like chocolate down the sides of a fondue machine. Truly a magnificent sight, unparalleled in its splendor.”

“Risen up?” Anna asks. “What does that mean? Risen up?”

“The land of Fontaine lies on a plateau, with water gushing down all around it,” Venti explains, and laughs. “Perhaps when you finally get the chance to go there, you will see it for yourself!”

“Where else have you been?” Jack questions, disbelieving. “Natlan? The far shores of Snezhnaya, even?”

“Shall I offer a song?” Venti asks. “This is a favorite in Snezhnaya, written by a departing adventurer on the beauty of their homeland.”

He reaches down, drawing his fingers across the strings of his lyre in a melodious strum, before beginning to pick out a mellow, almost somber tune.

“I have bid farewell to my native home,” he sings, “have left the blue skies of Snezhnaya. The three stars of the birch grove by the pond— will warm my old mother’s grief.” ^[2]

It's a sentimental piece, short, but sweet. In the chords pulled long over the lyre strings, however, the melancholic impression of icy mountains and vast frozen seas seem to sprawl itself over the air between them.

Kaeya sits with his eyes closed as the last strum of the lyre fades to nothing.

There’s a long moment of silence, sans any sort of applause, and Kaeya opens his eyes curiously to see Anna with her head lowered and Jack looking quite morose.

“If I leave this place to pursue my dreams,” Anna says, sounding troubled now, “my parents will probably be old by the time I return.”

“Mine too,” Jack says regretfully.

“My parents aren't young anymore,” Anna continues anxiously. “Will they worry about me when I'm gone? Although they allowed me to become an adventurer, perhaps they would rather I stay home, just like my brother.”

“My parents didn't approve of me becoming an adventurer at first,” Jack admits. “I finally have their blessing now, but…”

“But I don't want to cause my parents any worry or sadness,” Anna finishes morosely. “I don't want them to miss me while I'm away.”

Now with a deeply troubled air about them, the two sit there with their heads bowed. Kaeya straightens, slightly alarmed, and opposite the table from him, Cyrus looks to be equally bewildered, concerned yet clearly unsure how to address this turn of conversation. It seems that he is not the only one, because for a long moment, no one speaks.

In the end, it is Venti who breaks the silence.

“Is it not an inevitable part of parenthood that you must one day learn to let your children go?” he asks gently. “To set them free to discover the world and chase their dreams?”

His eyes have gone soft, uncharacteristically serious, yet also strangely tender.

“It might be painful at first,” he continues, “and you might worry endlessly about their welfare, but no matter how frightening the process of letting go, the even more frightening prospect for any parent would be for their child to never leave the nest.”

He smiles softly at the two young adventurers.

“Birds must all fly free one day, you know,” he says, almost chidingly, “but though birds migrate far from home, they almost always return to the places where they were born. In the end, the greatest gift a parent can give their child are wings of independence, and roots to come back to. Besides, while letting go may be painful, watching your children go on to achieve their dreams is the most rewarding experience a parent can have.”

His eyes grow even softer.

“So go forth and see the world, dear children,” he urges quietly. “Go forth and experience all the wonder and glory of this earth. After all, it's not like you can’t ever return to visit. This city and this land isn't going anywhere. It will always be here, awaiting your return.”

There's a moment of surprised silence, before finally, Jack seems to come around. The hesitance in his eyes is gone now, and he looks much more settled as he nods seriously.

“As an inexperienced adventurer,” he says solemnly, “I've only gone as far as Liyue, but perhaps one day, I’ll finally be ready to venture to places even more far away.”

“Maybe I'll even travel as far as Snezhnaya one day!” Anna announces, her enthusiasm seemingly returned as well.

Venti just chuckles.

“Snezhnaya is a cold and miserable place,” he tells them. “People who are used to the mild weather here in Mondstadt usually hate the extreme cold there, unless they make a habit of climbing Dragonspine for fun.”

That sparks a round of laughter, and Venti laughs along with them.

“The palace, however,” he admits after a moment, eyes going suddenly faraway, seemingly caught in the echoes of some distant but fond memory, “is truly a sight to behold.”

“You speak like you've been there,” Kaeya says, echoing Anna’s words from before, before adding, more sharply— “Have you?”

“Perhaps I have,” Venti answers easily, before he laughs again. “Or perhaps it's merely the tales one hears as a bard!” He winks. “A bard can never tell all his secrets, you know, lest he loses all his customers!”

That sparks a round of playful scoffs and easy laughter.

“Tease,” the Inazuman woman says, sounding amused, but fond.

“You can't be old enough to have traveled that many places,” the Liyuen adventurer points out more doubtfully.

The memory of Diluc's words come back to Kaeya— he's older than he looks, and suddenly, Kaeya’s investigative instinct rears its head. There's a secret there, and his intuition tells him it's one crucial to his investigations.

“Unless our dear bard is older than he looks?” he cuts in quickly, before the conversation can move on, turning to Venti with a raised eyebrow. “How old are you anyway?”

But Venti just laughs.

“Now, now,” he says, tutting playfully. “What do people say about asking someone of their age?”

“Surely there's no need for secrecy,” Kaeya prods, feigning light-hearted amusement.

“Well, perhaps I'd like to hold my audience in some sense of intrigue,” Venti teases. “Again, a bard must never tell all his secrets, lest he lose all his customers!”

The others laugh again, fond, as Venti offers another cheeky wink. Then finally, hefting his lyre more securely upon his lap, Venti claps his hands twice to catch everyone’s attention, before drawing a finger melodiously down the strings of his instrument.

“Alright then,” he begins. “I've sung many songs today about faraway places, so let me now sing a song about this land of wind and freedom!”

Placing a palm flat against the strings to end the lingering echoes of his last strum, he draws a suspenseful breath, before carefully plucking out the beginnings of a ballad.

“In ages past, did it transpire,” he recites. “Chained by royals, Mondstadt could barely suspire…”

Kaeya recognizes the ballad immediately. The Legend of Vennessa , truly a classic amongst Mondstadtian classics. Who, growing up in the land of freedom, has not heard this ballad recited at least a dozen times? 

And yet, despite the familiarity of the song, there is a strange freshness in Venti’s retelling of the tale. He tells it not with the grandiose and exaggerated air most bards adopt for historical works and epics. Instead, he leans in close, voice hushed but eyes bright, like a secret being confided, like a rumor being spun out for the first time.

It’s an admirably convincing reenactment of the way the ballad must have once been told, a tale of resistance spread in hushed yet excited whispers amidst the ranks of an underground rebellion, and that seems more than enough to draw the rest of the table in as well.

There's something in the bard’s eyes then, a glint echoed in all of their eyes— the delighted pride in their shared history, the joyous love of the land they call home, and suddenly—

Kaeya stands, a strange lump rising in his throat.

“Another drink,” he says, for those who turn to look at him.

Then, he turns to head for the bar.

Diluc is not on shift today, so Charles greets him at the counter instead, silently beginning to prepare his usual drink without being asked. As Charles measures out the different components, however, he begins to speak, not looking up from his work.

“You know,” he begins calmly, “when Venti first came to us, many places refused to serve him. Everyone knows now that he's much older than he looks, but I have to admit that after the first few months, I was messing with him a little by refusing to serve him. I think we were all messing with him, but he just laughed and took it in good stride, save for some pouting.”

Charles chuckles a little to himself, shaking his head fondly.

“In any case,” he continues, pouring the contents of his shaker out into a tall martini glass, “I can definitely believe that he’s been to some of the places he’s talked about.”

Unable to help himself, Kaeya finds himself looking back at Venti again. His rendition of The Legend Of Vennessa still seems to be ongoing. From what Kaeya can hear, he’s added a good number of verses, much to the merriment of those listening.

He's clearly familiar with Mondstadt history. More than that, he sings with a kind of familiarity, a kind of pride that comes with loving a land. He sings like a true Mondstadtian, born and bred, yet Kaeya, who has lived here for twenty years now, has not seen him around before he appeared in the city about a year or two ago.

Yet another mystery to add to the quickly growing pile, it seems.

The usual evening crowd comes in not long later, and Venti quickly transits back to shanties and other tavern favorites. When he leaves that night, Kaeya leaves with him, determined more than ever to follow him till the end.

This time, as they head down the same stretch of road going down past the Cat’s Tail and Marjorie’s souvenir shop, down towards the city gates, Venti turns very suddenly into a dark alley. Determined not to lose him again, Kaeya emerges immediately from the shadows and darts after him, yet when he turns into the alley— 

No one is there.

There are some crates stacked up high near the entrance to the alley, but when Kaeya steps forward to check, there is no one hiding behind it. Moving quickly, he strides decisively down the alley, but true to his own memory of the city, it's a dead-end.

As he stands there, frustrated and confused, there's the sudden whoosh of fabric and the quiet thump of something landing very lightly behind him. He whips around, hand going to his sword hilt, but the person behind him grabs his wrist before he can draw it, yanking him in close. As Kaeya reaches for his hidden dagger with his other hand, however, a familiar voice stops him short.

“You—!” that familiar voice hisses in his ear. “Are you seriously still stalking him?!”

“The Darknight Hero?!” Kaeya gasps immediately. “What a surprise!”

“Cut it out,” the masked man growls. “Isn't this against the law?”

“Well, aren't you—” Kaeya begins, making a gesture towards the man’s entire get-up— “against the law? My, my, Mr. Darknight Hero, do you really think it's wise to appear before a Knight of Favonius? Aren't you afraid I might arrest you?”

“Quit joking around, Kaeya, I mean it,” the masked man says crossly. “I'll tell Jean—” 

“Turning yourself in, Mr. Darknight Hero?” Kaeya cuts in, widening his eyes. “I must say—”

“Oh, for archons' sake—” the man groans.

He grips Kaeya’s other wrist, Kaeya grips his in return, and then they begin to scuffle, wrestling to and fro for a moment, before the sound of another person's voice draws an end to their tussle.

“Oh dear, is someone being mugged on this fine night? Should I call for help?”

The man lets go of Kaeya as if burnt. With a final meaningful look of warning, he turns away to leap up onto a nearby dumpster, propelling himself up the wall and over the nearest rooftop. In an instance, he is gone.

When Kaeya turns around, Venti is perched cross-legged on the tall stack of crates by the entrance of the alley, one elbow propped against his thigh, with his face cradled in his palm. The light of the nearby lamppost casts him half in shadow, but even so, his lazily-lidded eyes seem to glow a little in the darkness, cat-like.

“Now,” he says, and smiles. “Is that Sir Kaeya I see? What are you doing out here on a night so fine? Surely, you can’t have been following little ol’ me?”

Kaeya pauses for a moment, considering his response, before he replies.

“You caught me there,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck and feigning an embarrassed smile. “You seemed inebriated, and I was worried about you heading home alone so late at night, so I decided to see you home.”

“You've never seemed to have the same reservations with any other patron of the Angel’s Share,” Venti points out, amused.

“They all have safe homes within this city,” Kaeya says, before adding, a little more incisively, “unlike you… isn't that right?”

Venti blinks once, looking faintly surprised, before he tilts his head, and smiles. For a moment, they just look at each other, and then— something in Kaeya relents, and he sighs.

“Venti,” he says, a little more gently. “Do you have somewhere to go home to?”

Venti does not reply.

“Where do you live?” Kaeya asks, more directly.

“I live wherever it is that the wind blows,” Venti finally answers, lips quirking up, as if at some private joke.

“Where do you go when you aren't singing at the taverns, when you aren't singing in the city at all?” Kaeya tries again, but Venti just chuckles.

“I go wherever the wind takes me,” he says simply.

“That is not an answer,” Kaeya says crossly, but Venti just laughs again.

“Ah, but it's true!” he insists. 

He looks at Kaeya then, his gaze amused and very fond. It's clear now that he had probably realized since the first day that he was being followed, and yet he doesn't seem upset, seems in fact playful more than anything.

Kaeya looks him over one more time, clean, well-groomed, and dressed in a manner truthfully more fine than half the population of Mondstadt City. 

And then, with a sigh, he lets go.

“I know that you know that I'm investigating you,” he says instead, folding his arms.

Venti smiles, unbearably fond.

“I'm going to uncover all your secrets,” Kaeya says, unimpressed. “All of them, the ones that Diluc and Jean are keeping too, and then—” 

He pauses, and then, he smirks.

“And then I will tease them both endlessly about it,” he finishes. “They shall not have rest from my teasing for as long as they both shall live.”

Venti laughs, his eyes crinkling with it.

“Have fun with that,” he teases.

“Oh, trust me,” Kaeya says playfully. “I will.”

Kaeya blinks, and when he next opens his eyes—

Venti is gone once more.

As Kaeya stands there, shocked and bewildered, a gentle breeze sweeps through the alley. He steps forward carefully, one step, and then two. Finally, at the spot where Venti had been sitting, he catches sight of another strange feather, so pure a white that it glows, glows distinctively in the darkness.

The breeze sweeps the feather off the crates and towards Kaeya’s feet. It settles mere inches from his toes, and when he bends down to collect it, it dissolves again into glowing blue dandelion seeds that disperse into the night.

The wind dies as quickly as it had begun, leaving Kaeya standing in the alleyway, all alone.

The next day, he heads early to the tavern again. Diluc is there behind the counter when Kaeya takes his usual place, wiping the sink down stoically.

“Master Diluc!” Kaeya gasps, widening his eyes. “You won't believe what happened last night!”

“I'm sure you'll tell me,” Diluc says flatly.

“I ran into the Darknight Hero!’ Kaeya continues, ignoring the clear lack of enthusiasm. “Can you believe it? And on the night that you weren't working too! Perhaps if you'd been around, you would have caught a glimpse of him as well. Say, where were you last night?”

“I had to return to the winery to take care of business relating to the upcoming Weinlesefest, so I couldn't make the evening shift,” Diluc says, without expression or tone. “And even if I were in the city yesterday, I would have been too busy behind the bar, so I probably wouldn't have run into him either.”

He bends down, beginning to scoop some ice out of the tank below the counter.

“Charles said that you left the tavern early yesterday, very shortly after Venti did,” he continues after a moment, raising an eyebrow as he stands back up. “Are you still stalking Venti?”

“I would call it investigating rather than stalking,” Kaeya demurs.

When Diluc shoots him a look, however, he lets out an indulgent sigh.

“Oh, alright,” he sighs. “I did tail him again last night, but this time, he actually confronted me about it! Seems he'd known I was there all along, which means that he's a lot more observant than the average civilian. Would you happen to know something about that, I wonder?”

Diluc just exhales, ignoring the question.

“What did he say to you?” he asks instead.

“He asked why I was following him, of course,” Kaeya answers readily.

“And what did you say to that?” Diluc prompts.

“I straight up asked him where he lives, and where he goes when he's not singing in the city,” Kaeya says, laughing.

“And his answer was?” Diluc prompts again.

Kaeya shrugs, amused.

“He said that he lives wherever the wind blows, and goes wherever the wind takes him,” he quotes.

Diluc looks at him disbelievingly for a moment, before he puts his face in his hands.

“Sometimes, I think he isn't even trying to be subtle,” he mutters to himself.

Kaeya blinks, unsure if he heard correctly.

“Come again?” he says, confused, but Diluc just sighs.

“Nothing,” he says, and begins portioning the different ingredients into a cocktail shaker.

Kaeya narrows his eyes, but before he can say more, someone speaks from behind him.

“I've tried investigating him in the past as well,” Rosaria says, sounding amused. “You might as well stop while you're ahead.”

Kaeya doesn't jump, but it's a near thing. When he turns, he sees that the sister had been sitting at a darkened corner of the counter the whole time, unnoticed by anyone. Rosaria has always had a strange way of melting into the shadows, however, so Kaeya has long learnt to stop questioning it.

“Did you find anything?” he asks instead, curious, and Rosaria snorts.

“Found a bunch of dead-ends,” she scoffs, “and, in the end, got the sense that he was playing with me.”

She gives a small, careless shrug.

“All in all, I didn't get the sense that he was up to no good,” she finishes, “but he's definitely more than he seems on the surface.”

“Oh?” Kaeya asks, raising an eyebrow, and Rosaria narrows her eyes.

“He shouldn't have been able to notice me in the shadows,” she says darkly.

A large crowd of people come in right then, so the conversation ends there. Kaeya continues to chat with Rosaria at the counter until she leaves some hours later, however, their conversation an easy blend of business and leisure. They share information often, but aside from that, Kaeya has always genuinely enjoyed Rosaria’s company.

She understands what it is like to work from the shadows too.

As the night draws on, the tavern fills gradually with people. Before long, all the chairs are filled, but newcomers continue to file in, until even the spaces between tables are filled with people standing around with drinks in hand. Despite the lack of entertainment, the interior of the tavern rings loud with lively conversation and merry laughter, everyone seeming in high spirits for the first day of the public holidays.

It is thus rather strange that Venti does not show up until late into the evening. When he finally comes in through the door, however, he is already swaying. A chorus of greetings ring out at his arrival, but to Kaeya’s surprise, Venti only raises a hand in greeting, before making a beeline for the counter, hopping up onto the stool by Kaeya's side.

“My good Sir Kaeya!” he greets.

“Hello,” Kaeya greets in return. “You're here late tonight.”

“I was in Liyue visiting a friend,” Venti explains, and laughs. “He's a right old blockhead, but he has some really good Liyuen vintages stowed away. I had a good drink while I was there.”

Kaeya can't help but raise an eyebrow, slightly skeptical. The journey from Mondstadt City to Liyue Harbor is not at all short, but Venti doesn't seem to be lying, nor does he seem to have reason to lie, so perhaps that friend simply lives close to Stone Gate.

Still quite a distance to be traveling in a single day, but not implausible.

“A glass of wine?” Venti asks hopefully over the counter.

“You'll have to be more specific,” Diluc says flatly. “I'm guessing you'd like a glass of the usual dandelion wine?”

Venti seems to think about it for a moment, before, in another surprising turn of events, he shakes his head.

“Not today,” he says, and then sighs wistfully. “I shared the dandelion wine you gifted with my friend today. It was very good, I might add, so any dandelion wine I have now will likely pale in comparison!”

He taps a finger against his chin, thinking.

“Perhaps a red,” he finally says.

“We have many reds, bard,” Diluc sighs. “You'll have to be more specific.”

Venti laughs.

“Surprise me!” he says.

Diluc rolls his eyes, but turns around to pull a bottle off the rack. The bottle is unlabeled, to Kaeya’s surprise, so it's unlikely to be part of the winery’s standard commercial stock. Still, Venti’s eyes light up at his first sip.

“Well, this is certainly different from the usual!” he cries, taking another careful slip, before closing his eyes in an expression of bliss. “Ah, how delightful!”

“It's a new batch that was finished just yesterday,” Diluc explains. “It's not a vintage by any means, but there’s been an astronomical explosion of anemo crystalflies around the winery over the last five days. I don't know how, but some of them even managed to get into the cellars, and their presence seems to have massively sped up the aging process. From a preliminary taste-test, Connor thinks they’ve also influenced the flavor profile of the grapes in our vineyards.”

He gestures at the wine in Venti's glass.

“This is the first batch of the wines made from those grapes,” he says. “They’ve only been fermented and aged for five days. I don't know how it's even possible, but Connor assures me that the wine is ready. We are undoubtedly going to have a massive supply of wines for the coming Weinlesefest.”

“You're going to have to pour me a glass of that,” Kaeya says, intrigued.

“I'd like a glass as well,” Quinn says from the next table, having apparently been listening in.

“And one for me as well,” Payne adds.

Diluc bends down to retrieve another three glasses from under the counter.

“You know,” Quinn says thoughtfully, as Diluc begins to pour out the wine. “I sometimes find myself near the winery when delivering stock, and it has always struck me how many crystalflies there are in the area, even on a normal day. Perhaps they influence the flavor even in small droves? Dawn Winery produces the finest wines in Tevyat, after all.”

“I've noticed that too,” Payne chimes in. "I have wondered why they keep flocking there, however. I’ve only ever seen them congregating like that around Statues of the Seven.”

Venti laughs, swinging his legs idly from his high stool, his chin propped up on his palms.

“Perhaps the crystalflies are a sign of Barbatos' favor then,” he says mildly. “After all, he's said to be a great lover of wine.”

Diluc comes out from behind the counter, setting two glasses of wine down on the table with a firm clunk.

“Could that be the reason why bottles of wine have gone mysteriously missing from our cellars in recent years, without any signs of a break-in?” he asks flatly. “Truly, it has become one of the winery’s greatest unsolved mysteries. The bottles have never been found.”

Venti straightens, letting his eyes go wide in dramatic shock.

“My word, Master Diluc!” he gasps. “Are you suggesting Lord Barbatos might have taken them?”

There's a round of laughter at that, but Diluc's expression remains staunchly unamused at the joke.

“Well, whatever it is,” Cyrus booms from the next table down, loud as always, “Mondstadt’s wines are a gift from the Anemo Archon, so it's only right that we should properly appreciate it!”

He knocks back his mug of ale, before raising it high.

“Another round for the table!” he cries.

Diluc lets out a small huff, but returns back behind the bar, reaching under the counter for a fresh batch of clean mugs.

“And do you suppose that Lord Barbatos had anything to do with the crystalflies now covering every square inch of the winery?” he asks, more quietly, as he straightens, raising an eyebrow at Venti.

Venti lets out a thoughtful hmm and then a pensive hah, before tilting his head into his palm with a coy smile.

“Who knows?” he says lazily. “Have you done something to please the Anemo Archon recently?”

His eyes twinkle as Diluc lets out a loud huff, turning sharply away to begin filling up the new mugs from the tap.

The rest of the night passes in merry revelry, even despite the lack of live entertainment. Venti seems understandably sleepy from his journey to and from Liyue. After a few more drinks, he stumbles off to an empty table in the corner, and then falls soundly asleep. There are some fond chuckles at that, but the others leave him alone to sleep it off.

Somehow, he remains fast asleep even throughout all the noise after that. Even when Diluc loudly declares the tavern closed at the end of the night, he does not wake up through all the racket of chairs being pushed back and joking complaints from those vacating the premises.

“Damn, he's out cold,” Payne observes, chuckling as he leaves.

“It's okay,” Quinn says, sounding equally amused. “He can crash in the backroom, right?”

“Of course,” Diluc sighs.

The rest of them trail out, talking and laughing. In their wake, the door swings slowly shut, leaving Kaeya and Diluc alone in the sudden silence of the tavern.

Finally, Diluc comes out from behind the counter to wipe down the tables, and Kaeya stands to help collect the used mugs from around the tavern, leaving them on the countertop. They work in comfortable silence, and as Diluc finally turns off the overhead lights, leaving only the counter lit, before returning behind the bar to deposit the used mugs inside the dishwasher, Kaeya finally turns towards Venti.

After a moment, he shakes his head, chuckling fondly, and then crosses the room to wake him. As he steps into the darkness cast by the overhead mezzanine, however, reaching out for Venti's shoulder, he is struck by a strange, and abrupt sense of unease.

He pauses there, frozen in step.

Venti slumbers mere feet from him, one rosy cheek turned against the table, with his arms folded around his head. In sleep, he is completely and utterly still, not even the flicker of eyes moving beneath closed lids, nor even — as Kaeya soon notices, an odd chill going down his spine — the rise and fall of breath disturbing his restful slumber. Even the air seems to lie inert and soundless around him in that dim corner of the tavern, pressing heavily down upon them in drowsy sleep, rooting Kaeya in place with his hand scant inches from Venti's shoulder.

There's a strange lump in Kaeya's throat now, but he dares not even swallow past it. His every instinct tells him to remain silent, to remain still.

Tread carefully, it seems to say, for something terrible slumbers here.

He does not know how long he stands there, rooted in place, before the silence is abruptly broken.

"Let him sleep," Diluc says, speaking suddenly from behind the counter.

His voice seems, somehow, to break the vacuum of stillness, and with a strained chuckle, Kaeya steps slowly back from Venti's sleeping form.

"He definitely looks like he needs it," he says, with forced lightness.

"Mm," Diluc hums in agreement, before coming out from behind the counter, and approaching on silent feet. He pauses briefly as he draws even with Kaeya, and Kaeya wonders, for a moment, if he can feel it too, the utter stillness, the inexplicable pressure—

Then, Diluc steps forward, carefully scooping that sleeping figure up into his arms. Venti lets out a surprisingly disgruntled sound as he's lifted out of his chair.

"I can," he mumbles grumpily, "still drink."

Kaeya can't help the chuckle that bubbles up in his chest. Settling Venti more securely in his arms, Diluc just sighs.

"Typical," he mutters.

Kaeya finds himself trailing after them as Diluc carries the sleeping bard into the spare room at the back of the tavern, nudging the door open with one foot. He sinks to his knees as he lays Venti gently, gently upon the blankets, and then—

He just stays there, kneeling by the bedside, for a long moment.

Standing in the doorway, Kaeya can't stop his eyes from tracing the long line of Diluc's back, his head bowed and his expression cast in shadow. As a boy, Kaeya had seen Diluc knelt at his bedside in prayer a thousand times. Crepus had been the pious sort, and Diluc had been a pious boy, though that had seemingly ended with his father's violent demise.

The pose Diluc adopts now, however, is strikingly similar to Kaeya's distant memory of him in prayer, save for the hands that he now rests on the bed, instead of clasped together at his chest.

Strangely unsettled by the comparison, Kaeya draws his eyes searchingly over the contours of Venti's face, cherubic in sleep, and in that moment, Kaeya is struck by the oddest sense of familiarity, as though he's seen that face somewhere before, as though he's seen it a thousand times in passing, just as he'd seen Diluc knelt in prayer a thousand times in passing.

Finally, as he watches, Diluc stands quietly, and turns to exit the room.

"Let him sleep," he breathes, as he passes Kaeya in the doorway. "Let him sleep."

When he bangs through the door of Jean’s office some minutes later, she is still at her desk, as Kaeya had known she would be, though judging from the way she jumps half out of her seat with a high-pitched yelp at his entrance, she might have been dozing in her chair.

“Kaeya?” she says incredulously, before her expression turns a little cross. “You might have knocked.”

Kaeya ignores the jibe, coming forward to stand in front of her desk.

“We need to talk about Venti,” he says instead, and Jean’s eyebrows go up.

“Venti?” she says disbelievingly. “You came charging into my office at—” She leans back, craning her head to squint up at the clock on the wall— “Three in the morning to talk about Venti?”

“I've been investigating him,” Kaeya continues, and Jean blinks, hard.

“Investigating him?” she repeats blankly, before her expression becomes slightly alarmed. “Oh, Kaeya, please don't tell me you've been following him around.”

“And I know you and Diluc are hiding something,” Kaeya goes on anyway, and then narrows his eyes— “I want to know what.”

Jean blinks again, before she looks at him, really looks at him. Kaeya doesn't know what she sees, but after a moment, she slumps in her chair, sighing quietly to herself.

“You're on one of your investigative sprees again, aren't you?” she asks defeatedly.

“Yep,” Kaeya confirms.

“And you're not going to take no for an answer this time, are you?” she continues, dismayed.

“Nope,” Kaeya confirms again, crossing his arms.

Jean slumps further in her chair.

"Kaeya," she begins, and pauses there for a moment, before she sighs again, and reaches up to massage the bridge of her nose.

Kaeya just waits, pointedly keeping his silence.

“If I tell you,” she finally continues, with resignation, “can I trust you to keep this to yourself?”

“Of course,” Kaeya says, mildly offended.

“And if I tell you, will you please stop bothering Venti?” she pleads.

Kaeya narrows his eyes further.

“That depends,” he says.

“Kaeya!” Jean begins indignantly, before, after a moment, just seeming to deflate, letting out another defeated sigh.

She looks up at the clock again, then turns her face back down into her palm, rubbing tiredly at the bridge of her nose, clearly considering what to say next. Kaeya watches silently as she slowly seems to gather the words to speak.

After another long, long moment, however, she just exhales and, with a sag of her slim shoulders, seems to give up on whatever half-composed speech she had been drafting in her head.

"Venti," she says, tiredly, into her hand, "is Lord Barbatos."

For a long moment after those words, Kaeya can only stare.

"What?" he finally says.

"Venti is Lord Barbatos," Jean repeats, still not looking up.

Kaeya continues to stare, but the words do not rearrange to make any modicum of sense in his head. Jean does not take back her words, however, so Kaeya just stares for a moment longer, before speaking again.

"What?" he says once more.

Jean lets out a groan, and finally raises her head.

“Kaeya,” she begins crossly, but whatever she would have said, Kaeya never finds out, because she falters there, going suddenly quiet.

For a long moment, she just stares at him, her brows knitting slowly together.

“Kaeya?” she begins again after a moment, more hesitantly now. “Are you… alright?”

Kaeya blinks once.

“I,” he says, and blinks again, before finally turning away. “I think I need to take a walk.”

She does not speak, remaining oddly quiet as he exits her office, stepping back out into the night. At this late an hour, the city is silent in sleep, and the streets are empty save for a patrolling knight or two. There is no one to stop him or ask after him as he wanders up the stone stairs, instinctively seeking higher ground in his strange daze.

There's an odd buzzing in his ears, his mind strangely blank. His legs seem to move by themselves, taking him higher and higher, until finally, as he emerges up onto the highest landing—

He stops in his tracks.

For a long moment, he just stands there.

Then, after some time, his legs begin to move again. He takes one step forward, and then another, stopping right below the statue in the center of the plaza. He raises his head, slowly, to look up into its face.

The statue wears an expression of calm benevolence, eyes closed, brow loose and serene.

It's a face he's seen before, a face he's seen a thousand times in passing, immortalized in stone all across the land of Mondstadt.

It's a face he’d seen less than an hour ago, turned against a wooden tabletop in peaceful slumber.

The next morning, he heads straight to Jean’s office. He slaps a manila folder loudly down on her desk, drawing a reproachful look from her, and as she reluctantly picks it up with suspicion in her eyes, he chuckles.

“Someone needs to investigate our trade safety issues in Sumeru,” he explains.

Her brows pull together in confusion, so after a moment, he folds his arms, and leans his hip against the side of her desk.

“I’m volunteering,” he says.

Chapter Text

The trait of an uncertain man, it seemed, was to engage in recollection. And so, in the ship carrying him far over unsteady waters, in the carriage riding rickety over foreign stone, Kaeya finds himself caught endlessly in specters of the past.

In his moments of sleep, and in the darkness behind his eyelids in his moments of wakefulness, he sees his father as he once was— the sharp cut of his jaw beneath a mane of fiery red hair, and the strong knuckles of his hand as he sat writing at his desk, the fondness he carried, always, in his eyes, as he looked up to see Kaeya watching from the doorway or behind some piece of furniture.

Kaeya remembers the values that Crepus preached. He remembers fiery-haired Diluc, knelt at his bedside with the lamps unlit and the candles extinguished, whispering his hopes and wishes into the dark solitude of his devotion.

Absent though he was, and fickle though he seemed, there was no doubt that the people of Mondstadt loved and cherished its archon. It was, after all, he who had led them from the devastated radius of Decarabian's tower, he who had chased the blizzards from the land and leveled its unwelcoming peaks, he who had taught them to farm and to brew.

Kaeya had been taught well of Mondstadt's history, of the benevolent role its god had played in its founding, and of his godly wisdom in righting it whenever its course in history veered.

And yet, against the memories of those sunlit days of his youth, the dark shadows of even earlier memories simmer and whisper from a time half-forgotten. There were no more tutors or schools in that dark place to teach of its history, but there were still stories passed down from mother to child, and child to the children that would come thereafter.

The gods of Tevyat are terrible in might, and cruel in heart.

But there was a seductive quality to belief , to shared devotion, to the oneness of heads bent in silent reverence amidst the haunting sounds of an echoing choir. There had been a part of him, in his weakest moments, that had wanted desperately to be part of it.

Then, Crepus had died.

Crepus had been a pious man, who had raised his only son to be a pious boy. Crepus wrote monthly cheques to the church. He blessed the name of his god with every good harvest. And yet, when he had reached the end of his life, he had faced an undignified end, choking and groaning in a pool of his own blood, with death his only relief from suffering.

Celestia was high above, and the gods were far away. 

No one had come to save them.

The trade safety issues, in the end, are resolved relatively quickly.

In the end, it is simply a matter of manpower.

It was, more often than not, that the Knights would hire manual laborers from Dornman Port or from the nearby harbor of Liyue to bring its wine from sea to land, but most locals, he had been told upon enquiry, hire Eremite convoys to guard their shipments, especially on routes that take the envoy through the desert. Unfamiliar with the land, and being more laborers than fighters in conjunction, the escorts for Mondstadtian goods had unfortunately presented prime targets for banditry in the area.

And so, resolving the issue ends up being mostly logistic. Kaeya had spent a week scouting and hiring Eremite mercenaries— even though, he admits, that could honestly have been delegated to the logistics branch of the Knights back home. He spends another week researching and plotting routes throughout Sumeru for their wine— although that, again, would usually be a task delegated to the logistics branch of the Knights. Still, he loses himself in the busyness of his work, in the routes to be mapped and the escorts to be scouted.

Then, two weeks later, in the hustle and bustle of Port Ormos, he runs into Aether.

“That’s not what a Dusk Bird sounds like, you know?” Aether interjects, amused, from somewhere behind Kaeya.

“Oh?” Kaeya returns immediately. “No wonder they never pay attention to me.” 

He turns away from the Dusk Bird he had been attempting to charm onto his shoulder, facing Aether instead with a smile.

“Haven’t seen you in some time, Traveler,” he greets. “To which of the Anemo Archon's winds do I owe the honor?”

The words spill automatically from his mouth, but as he registers the meaning of that commonly used phrase in the aftermath, he can’t help the bitter curl of his lip.

Aether doesn’t seem to notice.

“To meet again under unexpected circumstances,” Aether returns just as easily, and just as playfully, “it must be fate.”

Kaeya can't help but laugh at that.

“Is this your way of saying you missed me?” he teases, before capitulating. “Alright then, since it wasn’t meant to be with this little bird, I’ll leave it be. Let’s take a walk, shall we?”

As they commence their stroll down the ordered chaos of lively Port Ormos, he continues more seriously, “Jean has been worrying about trade safety issues in this region for a while, as I discovered when I unwittingly burst into her office to save the day.”

“Of course,” Aether grants, amused.

“But that’s done with now,” Kaeya continues, “and I have some unused travel funds, so I’ve actually been thinking—”

The sounds of some play being performed from a nearby theater cuts into their conversation, but with a sideways glance and a shared laugh, they continue walking, and soon, the loud and dramatic monologue fades into the background 

“You know,” Aether says, amused, “I'm not sure spending public money on your own amusement is very knightly behavior.”

Kaeya laughs again.

“I remember now why you’re an Honorary Knight,” he says, half-teasingly. “Monetary temptation is below you, isn’t it?”

Aether raises an eyebrow.

“Is there a reason you’re afraid to return to Mond right now?” he challenges.

Though playful and mostly teasing, the question pierces through the hazy fog of whatever busyness Kaeya had sunk himself into.

Afraid?

He is strangely disconcerted by the suggestion. What reason has he to be afraid? Why should he be afraid to return? Why should he dally around in some faraway place, too timid to venture back to the land he'd lived in for twenty years?

“In that case, I guess today's end-of-trip blowout is canceled,” he says briskly, but not without a trace of spite. “I shall pack my luggage and prepare to return to Mondstadt immediately!”

“I can join you for the journey,” Aether offers, easily enough, but also with a hint of relief as he smiles. “It'll be nice to catch up with everyone in Mondstadt.”

“Oh?” Kaeya prods, and then laughs. “When I was souvenir shopping, I picked out something for you, too. Guess my thoughtfulness wasn't in vain!”

At that moment, Paimon manifests in a sparkle of stars, having come over from whatever nearby stall she must have been browsing during their conversation.

“You got us a souvenir?” she questions eagerly. “Ooo, what did you get us?”

“Let’s keep that a secret for now,” Kaeya says, holding a finger to his lips.

When Paimon narrows her eyes, he winks. 

“I’m not trying to keep you in suspense,” he assures her, “but I left all the souvenirs back at the inn.” He winks again. “I’ll give it to you when I give the rest to the others, alright? Be patient.”

With another sideways glance, Paimon floats off again in a trail of constellations, likely to continue whatever browsing she had been doing prior to his arrival.

It seems his compromise has been accepted.

The journey back is as long as it was getting there, a prolonged ride over rocking waves towards the shores of Mondstadt. Aether and Paimon seem characteristically restless throughout it all, as if they've never once ridden on a ship before. When they are finally upon the stone bridge leading into the front gates of Mondstadt City, however, the relief upon Kaeya's shoulders — and indeed, it seems, on Aether's as well — is rather palpable. 

As he steps forward onto steady stone, Kaeya can't help but pause, looking up towards the grand windmills of Mondstadt City, their gargantuan arms spinning lazily in the mild winds. Looking up at them, he can't help but feel suddenly at peace, like he's finally reached the destination he'd been seeking all along.

“Captain Kaeya!” Lawrence greets, face lighting up as they approach the main gates. “You're back!”

“Greetings, strange but respectable travelers,” Swan greets, more in line with the Knights of Favonius handbook, though the smile on his face belies his happiness. “Welcome back to the city of Mondstadt.”

“Hello, hello,” Kaeya greets with a laugh, before nodding Aether ahead.

As they ascend the stairs towards the city plaza, he turns to Aether.

“I'm heading up to drop off souvenirs with Jean and Lisa at the headquarters,” he explains. “But of course, if you'd like to explore elsewhere, you are free to do so.”

“We’ll go with you,” Aether says immediately. “It's been awhile since we've seen the others. It will be nice to say hello.”

And so, they continue to head upwards over the stone staircases leading up towards headquarters, chatting amicably the whole time. Upon arrival at the mahogany door of Jean’s office, Kaeya shoulders it opens, before rapping playfully on the doorframe.

“Hey,” he says, immediately spying Lisa perched on the edge of Jean’s desk. “Are you two busy? I'm back, and I've brought souvenirs!”

The two women immediately look up.

“Kaeya?” Jean calls, face brightening as she straightens in her chair. “And… is that the Traveler I see?”

Aether smiles.

“I’m back, Mondstadt,” he says, quietly but contently.

Jean and Lisa laugh.

“How was Inazuma?” Lisa asks the Traveler immediately. “I heard rumors, but nothing concrete, seeing as the nation has only just opened back up.”

Aether’s smile falters slightly, but after a moment, it comes back, a little dimmed. 

“Gloomy weather,” he says. “I've missed the sun here in Mondstadt.”

Paimon looks briefly towards Aether with a concerned expression, before turning back to them with a nervous chuckle.

“Yeah,” she complains. “Aether got struck by lightning three times in Seirai. The weather in Inazuma is really the worst!”

“Struck by lightning?!” Kaeya questions, and laughs. “Now that's something you neglected to tell me about on our journey back here.”

“Yeah, what are the chances, huh?” Aether says, with a wry smile, before changing the subject. “Either way, we’re done exploring Inazuma now. We had just arrived at Port Ormos when we ran into Captain Kaeya and doubled back, but we'll be heading to Sumeru next after this.”

There, he turns to Lisa.

“You studied there for a period, didn't you?” he asks. “Do you have recommendations for sights to see and places to eat?”

Kaeya senses a story there, but neither Aether nor Paimon seem willing to talk about their time in Inazuma. Lisa, the ever-perceptive woman that she is, seems to sense this as well. 

“You’ve asked the right person,” she grants, smiling. “I so happen to have a copy of the Sumeran volume of the Tevyat Travel Guide squirreled away in my personal collection. You are, of course, welcome to borrow it.”

“What?!” Paimon cries, ecstatic. “We've been looking all over for that volume! Wanwen Bookhouse and Yae Publishing said it was out of print!”

Lisa simply laughs.

“It's a rare volume for sure,” she says.

As the three of them bustle out of the room, chattering all the way, Jean turns a little more hesitantly to face Kaeya. After a moment, however, she musters up a smile.

“I,” she begins uncertainly, before seeming to steel herself. “I hope that if you left because of what I told you, then I hope you've come to peace with it while away. I never meant to startle you. I should have broken the news more gently. I'm sorry.”

“Were you worried about me?” Kaeya immediately teases.

“Of course,” Jean says, without hesitation. “You're one of my closest, and longest-held friends, Kaeya. You know that, right?”

Kaeya can't help but soften a little at that.

“I’ve come to terms with it,” he says quietly. “As much as I can, at least.”

Jean seems to settle a little, seeming much more at ease.

“I'm glad you're back in time for Weinlesefest,” she admits. “I was worried that you would end up missing it altogether.”

Kaeya laughs.

“The most exciting of Mondstadt’s holidays?” he asks. “I wouldn't miss it for all the world!”

The door opens, and Aether and Lisa come back in, laughing, with a book tucked in the crook of Aether's arm. Their re-entrance seems to break whatever awkward tension that was remaining in the room.

Jean steps back and, after a moment, clears her throat, before speaking in a more formal tone, “Captain Kaeya, I’ve approved your vacation request. Use this time to relax and unwind. Don’t worry about the report and other work. I’ll take care of it.”

For a few moments, Kaeya is confused, but then Jean looks at him, sternly, as if challenging him to refute her.

“Thank you then,” Kaeya acquiesces. “I’ll see you soon.” 

“Enjoy your vacation, sweeties!” Lisa chirps jovially after them.

They leave the headquarters, and there, upon the stone terrace outside the veritable castle of the Knights of Favonius, Kaeya sighs.

“Alright then,” he says. “Now that the gifts for the rest of the Knights are with Jean, next up is the Dawn Winery.” 

He offers Aether and Paimon an apologetic smile. 

“I know it's a bit of a trip,” he says contritely. “So if you'd prefer to stay in the city, that's fine. You don't have to accompany me.”

“It’s alright,” Aether says gamely. “We have nowhere to be.”

“Ooooo,” Paimon gasps. “We can say hi to Master Diluc while we're there!” 

Kaeya just laughs. 

"Alright then,” he agrees.

The walk to the winery is filled with pleasant chatter. Aether and Paimon seem much less restless walking — or in Paimon’s case, floating — on their own two feet, as opposed to being ferried by ship or cart. As they finally approach the winery through the surrounding vineyards, Kaeya catches sight of Connor standing on the terrace in front of the mansion.

“Connor!” he calls.

The winemaker turns at the sound of his voice, face quickly lighting up in recognition and delight.

“Master Kaeya!” he cries.

He comes forward to meet them as they ascend the few steps leading up onto the terrace.

“Is Diluc around?” Kaeya asks.

“No,” Connor says regretfully, and then smiles. “But it's good to see you back. We all heard that you’d been sent to Sumeru on an urgent mission. Adelinde and Elzer were worried you wouldn't make it back in time for Weinlesefest.”

“And miss the chance to sample all that limited edition wine?” Kaeya asks teasingly, and laughs. “I hear you've had quite the harvest recently.”

“So you've heard about the crystalflies?” Connor asks eagerly.

“Sampled some of the spoils at the Angel’s Share too,” Kaeya adds.

At that, Connor swells up with what looks like the beginnings of a long and excited rant, and Kaeya gamely settles in for the ride.

When Connor is done rambling about the harvest, some five minutes later, Kaeya reaches into the pouch at his waist, and pulls out a small bottle, which he holds out to Connor.

“Sumeran snake wine,” he explains, as Connor takes it from him with a questioning look. “I figured it would make a fine souvenir.”

Connor’s face brightens.

“Thank you!” he cries, holding it up at eye level and squinting into it. “I've heard of snake wine. Don't they infuse whole snakes in the bottle?”

“This one is just a sample vial,” Kaeya says, amused. “I figured you wouldn't actually want a snake in your bottle.”

Connor's expression seems to suggest that he would very much have liked a snake in his bottle. Kaeya laughs.

“Where is Elzer?” he asks. “I bought souvenirs for the rest of the staff as well, and thought I’d leave them with Elzer before heading back to the city.”

“You're not staying for dinner?” a voice speaks from behind them.

They turn to see Adelinde standing at the door, hands folded elegantly at her navel, a small smile pulling at her lips. Her eyes are gentle and very fond, and Kaeya immediately capitulates, rubbing sheepishly at the back of his head.

“Fragrant cedarwood-grilled steak?” he ventures hopefully.

Dinner is served in the manor fifteen minutes later, and at Kaeya's request, Adelinde sits at the table with them. While the Traveler and Paimon dig into their own sticky honey roasts with gusto, Adelinde turns to Kaeya with a soft expression.

“You were gone for a long while this time,” she says quietly. “I was worried that you weren't eating well.”

“I was only away for two weeks,” Kaeya reminds her gently.

“That's still longer than you’ve ever been abroad,” she says, before sighing. “I'm just glad you're finally home, Master Kaeya.”

Home.

There's something inside him that feels like it’s cracking open at that, but the feeling is a warm one, like a freshly-baked pastry being gently pulled open to reveal a warm, gooey center.

And indeed, surrounded by the mouth-watering scent of home-cooked food, and by the company of one of the women he holds dearest in his life, Kaeya can't help but feel—

Home, he thinks again to himself.

Yes.

“I’m home,” he says.

After dinner, he and the Traveler are quickly talked into staying the night. As Adelinde leads Aether and Paimon to a guestroom, Kaeya makes his way up the old wooden stairs to the second floor, and down the hallway to his own bedroom. The well-worn and well-loved wood creaks quietly under every step, a familiar sound.

As he passes his childhood bedroom, he pauses for a moment, turning to look in through the open doorway.

The moonlight slants in through the open window, falling in squares over the tucked in sheets of the two single beds, separated by a low nightstand. None of the furniture has been moved or replaced, the room seemingly frozen in a time long ago.

He can almost still see the translucent ghost of a little redheaded boy, sitting knelt by his bedside.

He stands there for a moment longer, before finally turning, and continuing silently down the hallway.

The next day, they head back to the city, reaching the Angel’s Share around noon. This close to Weinlesefest, the outside tables are already packed even at midday, the sounds of laughter and clinking glasses audible from down the street.

Diluc had not returned to the winery the night before and, when asked, Elzer had said that he had been on shift at the tavern, and would be on shift again today. Although Kaeya had left Diluc's souvenir with Elzer, the Traveler had wanted to drop by to say hello anyway, and Kaeya had readily agreed.

“I’ve not had a Death After Noon in two weeks!” he had lamented, much to Aether’s amusement.

They are laughing about something or other as they push open the door to the Angel’s Share, but there on the threshold, Kaeya's laughter fades abruptly away as, across the room, he spies the distinctive panels of a long, teal cape.

Venti is standing with his back turned, hands on his hips as he chats with an inebriated-looking Payne.

Not noticing Kaeya’s sudden pause, Aether continues walking, still chatting, but pauses a few steps in, turning around with a questioning look on his face.

“What's the hold up?” Aether asks.

“Nothing,” Kaeya says, and allows the door to swing shut behind him.

“Tone-Deaf Bard!” ^[1] Paimon shrieks from a few paces ahead, immediately beginning to hurtle forward.

Venti turns around to receive a chestful of Paimon. He laughs as he pats the top of her silver head.

“Hello, Paimon,” he greets, “and is that the Traveler I see?”

“Hey Venti,” Aether greets, walking over to join them as Venti quietly excuses himself from Payne. After a moment of hesitation, Kaeya follows, a bit more reluctantly.

"Traveler!” Venti greets, before his gaze shifts backwards to land on Kaeya's approaching figure. “Is that the good Sir Kaeya? I had heard that you had left on a valiant mission in courageous defense of Mondstadt’s national interests!”

“Hello,” Kaeya says, a little shortly.

“You mean in defense of Mondstadt's wine supply,” Paimon interjects sardonically.

Venti laughs.

“Yes, and that too,” he admits, before straightening. “A noble cause indeed! Shall I write you into one of my songs, brave knight?”

Kaeya does not respond, but that does not seem to matter to Venti, who simply manifests his lyre with a flourish.

“At last, the knight returns from afar,” he recites dramatically, “as brilliant as a shining star! And now, his efforts the people shall reap, barrels of wine in heaps and heaps!”

That draws a round of laughter from the surrounding tables, and Venti dips low in an exaggerated bow, winking cheekily.

“Drunkard,” Paimon says flatly, but her voice is fond.

And with that, Venti turns his attention to Aether next.

"And I see that the Honorary Knight has also returned to us from the land of eternity,” he says, before smiling more genuinely, seemingly dropping the last of his theatrics. “How have you been?”

At that question, something in Aether finally seems to give. His smile turns brittle, and when he next speaks, his voice cracks a little.

“Actually,” he says, with a shaky laugh. “I’ve been pretty tired lately. I feel… a bit lost, to be honest.”

Venti's expression immediately softens. After a moment, he smiles, a little sadly, and holds out a palm to him.

“My brave warrior,” he murmurs tenderly, and nods, “you've worked hard.”

As Aether reaches out as well, taking Venti's hand with a small, hitched breath, Kaeya takes a step backwards.

This is clearly not a conversation meant for his ears.

“I’ll go say hello to Diluc,” he says instead, before turning quickly away.

As Kaeya approaches the counter, Diluc looks up from the drink he is stirring, acknowledging Kaeya with a stoic nod.

“You were away for a while,” he says, as Kaeya takes a seat on one of the bar stools.

“Yes,” Kaeya says.

“A Death After Noon, I suppose?” Diluc says curtly.

“Yes,” Kaeya says again.

For a minute, there is silence between them, save for the clinking of ice cubes, and the eventual rattle of the cocktail shaker. Finally, however, as Diluc pushes the martini glass across the counter and, seemingly having no further orders to prepare, pulls a stool over to sit, Kaeya speaks again.

“I thought about Father,” he says, feeling his smile go a little strained. “I thought about Father while I was away.”

He swallows, and looks up at Diluc, carefully gauging his reaction. Diluc doesn't react negatively, doesn't really react much at all, just nods, and continues to listen.

“Sometimes I used to wonder,” Kaeya continues, “were the gods blind.”

His voice breaks unexpectedly. He quickly lowers his head, surprised at the swell of emotion that had suddenly overtaken him, allowing the long fall of his hair curtain his expression. He draws in a long, shuddering breath, and then lets it out just as slowly, trying to collect himself.

“Not blind,” Diluc says suddenly.

Kaeya is so surprised by the abrupt response, that he looks up without meaning to. At his silence, however, Diluc just huffs a little, and averts his eyes, before continuing.

“Just perhaps,” he says quietly, “not all-powerful.”

For a long moment, there is silence between them as they turn to watch Venti from across the room, still sitting together with Aether. Their backs are turned, but Aether is sitting slumped with his chin lowered, Venti's arm around his shoulders, their heads bent together as he speaks softly to the Traveler. Paimon, it seems, has made herself scarce.

“He's not all that he presents himself to be,” Kaeya notes after a moment, still watching Venti.

“He has his own difficulties,” Diluc says. “Just as all people have.”

Kaeya lets out a small chuckle.

“Is it overly suspicious of me to distrust people who clearly have secrets?” he asks.

Diluc does not answer.

“Do you think he can be trusted?” Kaeya asks again, after a moment.

“Yes,” Diluc says.

The immediacy and the conviction in his response startles Kaeya. He looks back at Diluc, surprised. After a moment, however, Diluc just huffs, and looks across the room, but not at Venti this time.

“Because,” he says, very quietly, “he is kind.”

When Kaeya traces his gaze, he sees Stanley, sitting half-slumped over his drink with Jack chattering at his side.

Before too long, the Traveler returns with Paimon in tow, his friendly smile back in place, though if his eyes are a little red-rimmed, Kaeya does not comment on it.

“You said you'd take me around to see the Weinlesefest festivities,” Aether says.

"Of course,” Kaeya says immediately, standing, and polishing off the last of the drink in his glass. “Let's go.”

They wave goodbye to Diluc, before leaving the tavern, venturing up the various stone staircases up towards the cathedral plaza.

“The bulk of the festivities will take place on Windcoming Day tomorrow,” Kaeya explains, “but in the lead-up to the day itself, the church often organizes a host of activities surrounding worship and song.”

As they crest the long stairs leading up to the cathedral plaza, Kaeya spots a familiar figure standing in front of the statue, and points her out to his two companions.

“That's Sister Grace over there,” he says. “We can ask her if there are any choir performances scheduled for today.”

Aether nods, and they begin their approach.

“Sister Grace!” Kaeya calls, as they draw even with her. “Will there be any choir performances today?”

Sister Grace turns at the sound of his voice. She smiles gently in greeting, but ultimately sighs.

“I'm afraid that the choir concert we previously announced for this afternoon has been pushed back,” she informs him regretfully. “Tomorrow morning’s concert will go on as planned, however.”

“Postponed?” Kaeya asks curiously. “Is there some story there?"

Sister Grace sighs again.

“As you probably know, we've been trying to organize an amateur choir in addition to the regular church choir,” she elaborates. “It turns out there are plenty of believers who are good singers and interested in joining a choir, but for some reason, the rehearsals are going terribly. I just don't understand it. Everyone in the choir has a basic level of musical literacy, but they sound awful together. It's like everyone's trying to do their own thing — there's no group harmony.”

She smiles, a little wryly.

“Or maybe I'm just not musically gifted enough to give them the guidance they need,” she says, and then shakes her head with another sigh. “In any case, the performance by the amateur choir has been postponed. The members were all quite disappointed, but I just don't think they are performance-ready.”

It seems they aren't the only ones disappointed. The Traveler is looking a little crestfallen as well.

Kaeya considers the situation for a long moment, before finally, he sighs, reaching up to rub at the bridge of his nose.

“You know,” he says, “I think I know someone who can help.”

When they head back to the Angel’s Share, Venti has moved to an outside table. He is sitting alone with his eyes closed and a faint smile on his face, seemingly listening to the sounds of music coming from the bards playing by the fountain.

Kaeya draws a deep breath, before summoning a charming smile to his face.

“Drinking alone, Professor Venti?” he calls jovially. “Hope you don't mind if we sit with you!”

Venti opens his eyes, and smiles.

“Of course not,” he says. “We are all friends here, are we not?”

Kaeya’s smile strains a little, but he turns to wave Patton over.

“One Apple Cider,” he says, “and one… let's go with a Moonlit Alley, hm?”

“That isn't your usual,” Aether observes.

“No,” Kaeya admits, before turning back to Venti with a sigh. “Alas, our plans for the day have been derailed, so it’s back to the tavern with us! The Traveler and I went up to the cathedral, but it seems that today’s choir performance has been canceled!”

He pulls a chair out for the Traveler, and then another for himself.

“Speaking of which,” he continues, as he takes a seat at the table, “I trust you've heard Sister Grace's choir perform before?”

“Of course!” Venti confirms. “Though the format is a little on the formal side, they do sing quite beautifully.”

Despite himself, Kaeya can feel his smile sharpening a little.

“So you'd say you enjoy hymns?” he asks.

Venti lets out a thoughtful hum, tapping at his chin a little.

“I think that however it's expressed,” he says, after a moment, “as long as you can hear the singer's passion and joy, I would consider it a phenomenal performance.”

“An intriguing perspective!” Kaeya comments. “By this logic, I suppose Lord Barbatos would also enjoy the choir's performances.”

Paimon is looking back and forth between them as they trade conversation, mouth slightly open, as if watching a tennis match. Aether’s eyebrows had shot up at Kaeya's last words, and remain raised as he watches them talk.

“Oh?” Venti asks, gently amused. “And why do you say that?”

“It is, after all,” Kaeya says, “only because of the Anemo Archon’s patient guidance and benevolent protection that the people of Mondstadt can now sing such beautiful hymns in the Cathedral. It must be quite satisfying for him to hear a joyful people lift up their voices in fervent worship!”

Venti tilts his head, letting out another thoughtful hum.

“That's a beautiful and hopeful sentiment,” he finally grants. “But maybe Barbatos himself doesn't give it so much thought.”

At Kaeya's raised eyebrow, he smiles, and elaborates.

“In principle, the hymns of the Cathedral are dedicated to a god,” Venti explains, “but in reality, the actual audience for these performances are ordinary people. I think, ultimately, the purpose of these hymns are to bring solace, joy, solidarity, and hope to those singing, and those listening too. And so, as long as the singers and the listeners are happy, I think that's all that really matters.”

Kaeya is quiet for a moment, before finally, he lets out a small laugh, bringing a hand to his forehead.

“If only Sister Grace were also able to see things that way,” he laments, “then perhaps she wouldn't feel so distressed.”

Venti's expression turns vaguely concerned, and after a moment, Aether sighs.

“It's like this,” Aether begins.

Some minutes later, Venti sighs, rubbing a little awkwardly at the back of his head.

“To be honest,” he admits, “if they have a natural talent for music, I feel they should just be allowed to sing whatever they want. It'll all sound good.”

“Even if they aren't even singing the same tune?” Paimon questions skeptically.

Venti laughs, and then lowers his voice, as if confiding a secret.

“The first people to offer songs to the Anemo Archon weren't all singing the same tune either, you know?” he stage-whispers, with a wink. After a moment, he lowers the hand that had been cupped by the side of his mouth, continuing at a more normal volume, “Besides, he is the God of Freedom. Surely he'd prefer to hear Mondstadters sing their hearts out freely , in whatever way naturally comes to them.”

“To each their own I say, but Sister Grace seems quite bothered by the whole thing,” Kaeya says, and lets out a theatrical sigh. “If only a kind soul with a deep understanding of poetry and music could help her!” He turns in his seat. “Patton!”

“More drinks?” Patton asks, approaching their table with a notepad in hand.

“I only brought enough mora for one bottle today,” Venti says, and smiles. “I'll have to pass.”

“Another bottle of Apple Cider for the bard, please, Patton!” Kaeya chirps, and winks at Venti. “My treat.”

Venti laughs.

“A knight after my own heart!” he cries, and then offers a wink in return. “With the aid of this bottle, a humble bard's woes have been whisked away on the wind— and so it falls to this humble bard to pass the blessing on to another!”

“Then this is probably the single most worthwhile alcohol purchase I've ever made,” Kaeya teases, before continuing, a bit more seriously. “Sister Grace is a devout follower of the Anemo Archon. Perhaps it's her depth of devotion that causes her to worry too much about the smallest things.” He grins. “With your help, however, Sister Grace's problems are as good as solved!”

“Worry not, brave knight!” Venti declares. “I'll find her right after I finish this glass!”

Kaeya nods with the satisfaction of a job well-accomplished.

“Patton,” he calls, not without a hint of smugness, “the bill, please."

Before too long, they are heading back up towards the cathedral plaza. As Venti begins talking to Sister Grace, however, Aether pulls Kaeya away with a hastily mumbled excuse.

“What's the matter?” Kaeya asks, but Aether merely raises an eyebrow.

“What's up with you and Venti?” he prods. “That conversation at the Angel’s Share was really tense.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Kaeya laughs. “What did you think was happening?”

Aether narrows his eyes.

“You found out about it, didn't you?” he questions, and makes a strange gesture behind his back that, in some distant version of reality, could plausibly resemble the flapping of wings.

“I'm going to pretend that I know what that means,” Kaeya says flatly, and clears his throat. “It looks that Sister Grace and the good bard have reached some sort of disagreement. Let's go over and see what's wrong, shall we?”

“Captain Kaeya,” Sister Grace greets, as they draw near. “Your bard friend has a few suggestions that are somewhat... fanciful in nature.”

At their questioning looks, Venti laughs, and elaborates.

“I proposed that instead of a concert today, we could host a sing-along session!” Venti explains. “It's too late, after all, to prepare the choir for a concert.”

“That doesn't sound too far-fetched,” Kaeya injects.

“That's not the far-fetched part,” Sister Grace says, and after a moment, Venti continues.

“Everyone in the choir loves to sing, but they're used to singing their favorite songs,” he says. “So why ask them to adjust to the demands of those staid old church hymns, when you could create a new song for them, one that they'll all be able to grasp quickly?”

“This would be a major departure from tradition,” Sister Grace says hesitantly. “Is it really appropriate?”

“Giving believers the chance to express themselves freely seems like the sort of thing Lord Barbatos would enjoy,” Kaeya says. “Isn't that right, Venti?”

Venti smiles, a touch of secrecy playing along the corners of his lips. After a moment, Sister Grace seems to give in.

“Maybe it's just a generational thing, but…” She sighs. “Well, it's not a completely unreasonable idea.”

“We should round up the choir then,” Kaeya says, clapping decisively. “Sister Grace, I can help with that.”

“Should we find some other people to help us compose the lyrics as well?” Venti muses. “If this is to be a new song of the people, then the more fresh ideas we have, the better.”

“What about Barbara?” Paimon asks.

“Given that the idea is to write a song dedicated to Lord Barbatos,” Sister Grace agrees, “I'm sure Sister Barbara would be willing.”

And with that, the group splits up to accomplish their various tasks.

Some time later, the choir is assembled, and Kaeya heads off to the Good Hunter to bring back refreshments. When he returns to the cathedral plaza with multiple bags in tow, an enthusiastic conversation seems to be in progress.

“I never thought we'd be able to just sing what we wanted!” Melker exclaims. “What a relief!”

“Plus, we get to write a song with Sister Barbara!” Artur cries, practically swooning. “I'm so honored!”

"Thank you, everyone! Why don't we start by picking a theme for this song?” Barbara interjects, firmly pulling the discussion back to topic.

“Well, traditionally speaking, the theme should be Praise Be to the Gentle and Loving Lord Barbatos,” Sister Grace offers, and Kaeya has the unparalleled delight of watching Venti grimace a little at that.

“I expect that Professor Venti might feel that topic is overdone and lacks originality,” Kaeya interjects, amused, as he sets down the packets of takeaway, “and that it may not be to Lord Barbatos's liking.”

“That's Kaeya for you, got it in one!” Venti cries, and clears his throat. “I'd suggest that everyone start by thinking of the little things in life that bring you joy.”

Barbara has brought with her a long stretch of paper, which she unrolls upon the stone plaza. As the others dig into the refreshments, they offer their opinions, which are dutifully recorded down upon the parchment by a floating Paimon. Within an hour, Venti and Barbara seem to have their lyrics.

The sound of voices raised in song, the joy and laughter of the assembled choir, soon calls the attention of the rest of the city. One by one, they are drawn up the stone steps into the cathedral plaza, where they are handed copies of the lyrics to be sung. By the end, even Sister Grace seems to have lost her compunctions, standing by a faraway pillar watching the people sing with a smile on her face.

Kaeya watches as well from a distance, a strange feeling rising from his chest into his throat, making it hard to speak. From the shadow of an overhead archway, he sees the people unite in song, in fervent worship, in joy, gratitude, and appreciation of the land they call home.

After a moment, he turns quietly away.

“Are you going?” a voice speaks from behind him.

Surprised, he turns to see Venti, having separated from the choir at some point, leaning against a pillar. Evening has long overtaken day, the sun long sunk down below the horizon, and his eyes gleam with mirth and a strange elemental glow in the dim light.

“Slipping away before the final verse is sung,” Kaeya says, “before the poet has uttered the last line, before everything has concluded— I don't know, something about it just resonates with me.”

“Or is Sir Kaeya just too embarrassed to be heard singing?” Venti asks playfully, and Kaeya lets out a burst of surprised laughter despite himself.

“Oh no, you've seen right through me!” he cries dramatically, and Venti laughs as well, before, after a moment, he seems to sober.

“That was a craftily drafted speech,” Venti says, more seriously. “I almost fell for it.”

Kaeya quickly sobers as well. Venti sighs, before offering him a gentle smile.

“May I offer you a song, brave knight?” he asks quietly.

Kaeya does not immediately speak, but it seems Venti never needed an answer, because he continues, regardless.

"Abandoned to whatever fortune the cruel waters bring, bereft of control directionless I swing,” he recites. "The swift currents surge, and onward I urge, through the frost that Fall and Winter bring.”

He smiles, holding out his hand.

“I chart toward the brightening horizon,” he continues, “that into, one day, from the endless dome of night I shall spring.”

Kaeya is quiet for a moment.

“A beautiful image,” he finally comments. “A boat that has come unmoored will not get lost in the night, but sail towards the dawn.”

“Of course, you don't have to believe in it,” Venti says, before his eyes soften, “but the winds of Mondstadt will guide all lost ships back to safe harbor.”

"Even those that set sail from foreign lands?” Kaeya presses. “Even those built on foreign soil, whose sails are made of foreign cotton and timbers of foreign wood?"

"Vennessa was not born on this land either,” Venti reminds him. “And yet, the winds guided her tribe here, and here, they eventually made a home and were hailed as heroes, their stories passed down till today."

As Kaeya ponders quietly upon that, Venti laughs.

"Everyone is welcome to find a home here,” he says gently, “especially those who love this land.”

Kaeya closes his eyes.

“Well,” he finally says, after a long moment, “after a fine poem like that, it would be plain rude of me not to rejoin you.”

The choir of amateur recruits and impromptu citizens sing on for nearly two hours after that. As the session finally draws to a close, and the crowd begins to disperse, however, Sister Victoria comes forward from where she had been standing by the doors of the cathedral, watching.

“I'm endlessly happy to have heard the choir sing together in the end,” she says, smiling, as she draws even with Kaeya and Venti. “Though they certainly weren't singing a conventional hymn. What happened there?”

Chuckling a little, Sister Grace explains what had gone down, and in the end, Sister Victoria purses her lips looking faintly skeptical, but bows her head to grudgingly thanks Venti for his help.

“I'm glad that you've finally come around,” Sister Victoria says, with as much genuinity as she can. “It's never too late to become faithful, young bard. Praise be to our Lord.”

“Ah,” Venti says. “Indeed. Praise be to our Lord.”

He looks about ready to flee, but at that moment, a strange impulse grips Kaeya. He reaches out, grasping Venti's wrist, before turning back to Sister Victoria with a sweet smile.

“I never really attended church regularly as a child,” he says, “especially since the winery is so far, but I’ve always wanted to attend. Please, tell me, sister, what usually happens during sermons?” 

Sister Victoria perks up at that.

“We usually conduct Sunday school for children of the city prior to the sermons,” she says. “But you’re always welcome to sit in if you wish. A favorite to start with is, of course, the tale of Lord Barbatos’ ascension.”

Venti smiles, a little awkwardly.

“Alright then,” he says cheerfully, “I shall leave you both—”

But Kaeya merely tightens his grip upon Venti's wrist.

“At the moment of His ascension,” Sister Victoria begins, “we were blessed with a host of auspicious signs, all of which were clear signs of our Lord’s divinity.”

For some reason, she turns at that, giving Venti a meaningful look.

“Indeed,” Venti says.

“The miraculous phenomena that happened at the time of his ascension were great,” Sister Victoria continues, still looking meaningfully at the bard. “Rainbows manifested in eight directions, flowers bloomed all around, and the magnificent shining light of his six wings blotted out the storm.”

“Mm,” Venti says. “Rainbows in eight directions,” he continues. “I see,” he grants, and then, after appropriate pause, “Miraculous indeed.”

“When he finally walked out of Decarabian’s city,” Sister Victoria concludes grandiosely, “leading the citizens of Old Mondstadt behind him, flowers blossomed in his wake, leaving a trail of a hundred colors.”

“Wow,” Venti says, “I’m not sure I could even name one hundred colors.”

Sister Victoria pauses for a moment, looking hesitant and, honestly, a bit offended.

“It must have been magnificent indeed,” Venti quickly amends. “Truly beyond human imagining.”

When Sister Victoria still looks unsure, he continues, “I suppose one must have been there to see it, to truly comprehend the magnificence of that sight.”

Sister Victoria hesitates for a moment longer, before she sighs.

“The goodness, mercy, and grace of our Lord is unlimited,” she says, still gazing upon Venti. “It is never too late to become more faithful.”

This is the best day of Kaeya's life.

When the choir is done and the night is over, Kaeya goes home in relatively good cheer, accompanied by Aether and Paimon, both of whom he had offered to put up for the night.

“You seem awfully happy tonight,” Aether points out, amused, but Kaeya only laughs.

“Do I seem happier than usual?” he questions, and winks. “It must be the festive mood of Weinlesefest.” He pauses in step, before turning to look at Aether. “I suppose you'll be joining us tomorrow as well then?”

Aether smiles.

“I wouldn't miss it for the world,” he says.

The next day, they head down to Cider Lake for the festivities. Upon arriving at their destination, Aether is immediately waylaid by an extremely enthusiastic Amber, so Kaeya heads towards the bar alone, where a small crowd is already gathering.

“Oho!” Venti greets jovially. “Is that Sir Kaeya I spy? Unfortunately, the bar isn't open yet. We are waiting for the wine to arrive.”

Curiously, Kaeya turns to look in the direction of the road leading up towards them, immediately spotting a bent figure in black robes crouched down beside a barrel of wine, seemingly peering under the horse-drawn cart it's on. She looks fretful and quite distressed.

“That's Sister Grace,” he observes, and Venti turns to look as well.

“Has her wagon broken down?” Venti murmurs, sounding faintly concerned.

Trading a final look between them, they leave the queue, setting off to check in on her.

“Good Sister Grace!” Venti calls cheerfully.

“Is something the matter?” Kaeya asks, a little more seriously.

She looks up as they approach, but the calm smiles of yesterday are nowhere to be seen. She seems distraught, wringing her hands in overcome distress, before looking back to the cart with an air of desperation.

“It's the ceremonial wine,” she explains shakily. “We were attacked by hilichurls on the way, and while the escort was able to fight them off, I didn't notice until now that the barrel must have cracked near the bottom. I’ve been trying to stop the leakage, but the wine has been leaking out all this while.”

“We need to turn the barrel over,” Kaeya says, immediately stepping forward to help.

Between the three of them, they manage to tip the heavy barrel over. Kaeya peers under it, wincing as he notices the long crack across the base of it. He quickly freezes the crack shut, tips it upside down, and opens the lid.

Less than a quarter of the wine is left. 

Peering into the barrel, Sister Grace seems to realize that as well.

“The Dawn Winery will surely be bringing more wine soon!” Venti quickly assures her, waving his hands with a faint air of panic. “Don't worry too much about it, alright?”

But Sister Grace is inconsolable. After a moment, she places the lid back over the barrel, and then slumps down upon a nearby boulder, putting her head in her hands, looking utterly defeated.

“This wine isn't for drinking,” she says quietly. “It's the ceremonial wine meant for offering.”

They stand there for a moment, silent, unsure how to comfort her.

“These days,” she continues, voice trembling, “the common people simply take Weinlesefest as a chance to drink and be merry, but the festival is supposed to be about welcoming our Lord home.”

She lets out a quiet, wet laugh.

“He has been away for so long,” she whispers. “I’ve always wondered, is it because the people have become complacent in his absence, no longer truly believing he will ever manifest before us again?” She exhales. “Is it that the Church hasn't done enough to maintain the people's worship?”

She seems to be holding back tears now, her voice hitching a little with each breath.

“Is it,” she finally asks, in a small, wavering voice— “Is it that we haven't been faithful enough?”

Kaeya can't help but remember the words he had spoken the day before.

Sister Grace is a devout follower of the Anemo Archon. Perhaps it's the depth of her devotion that causes her to worry too much about the smallest things.

He has no words of comfort for her.

"Why do you believe that he isn't already here?” Venti finally asks, voice breaking abruptly into the silence.

Sister Grace is quiet for a long moment. 

“Just because he is unseen, does that mean he is not here?” Venti questions.

Sister Grace exhales shakily. She does not look up, but she appears to be listening, and after a moment, Venti's expression softens.

“Sister,” he says quietly, “did the scriptures tell of the reason why Barbatos supposedly left?”

“He wished for us to be free,” Sister Grace finally responds, her head still lowered, her voice a mere croak.

“Yes,” Venti confirms. “He wished for Mondstadt to be a land ruled not by the gods, but by the everyday goodness of people's hearts. But so long as he was present, Mondstadt could never truly be a land ruled by the people rather than the divine . So, he vanished.”

Smiling, he leans in to peer up into Sister Grace’s face.

“But Sister,” he continues, very gently, and very kindly, “what's to say he ever left?”

Sister Grace does not speak for a long, long moment, and finally, Venti leans back.

"Freedom, hope, love, and dreams,” he declares, “friendship, innocence, and everything in between — that is the stuff that gods are made of.” He smiles. “Wherever the dream of freedom still exists, he exists too. He lives in the hearts and hopes of people, in the wind and the wishes it carries. He never left.”

And then, he reaches out, touching Sister Grace’s cheek briefly.

“Sister, he has always been here,” he urges. “So don't fret with worries of bringing him home, alright? What he wanted most was for his people to be happy. So Sister, on this joyous day, all you need to do— is be happy .”

And finally, Sister Grace draws a deep breath, and slowly raises her head. With a small, watery smile, she reaches out to take his hand. 

“Thank you for your wisdom, dear bard,” she murmurs, with genuine gratitude. “They say that he is also the God of Song. I pray he will always exist in your song.”

Venti smiles at that.

“He will,” he assures her. “So please, Sister, be without burden. Enjoy the festivities with freedom in your heart.”

“I will,” Sister Grace promises. “Thank you.”

They help Sister Grace guide the cart the rest of the way into the festival venue. As she bustles off to talk with the knights stationed about the venue, surely to coordinate the arrival of the ceremonial wine, Kaeya closes his eyes.

“A land ruled not by the gods,” he murmurs wistfully.

“A people ruled not by the gods,” Venti adds gently. “For all those who seek freedom, who seek a home, they will always be welcome to find a home here. They will always be welcome to become a part of its people.”

A lump rises to Kaeya's throat then. 

Inside him, it feels that there is a knot, somewhere, that is finally starting to come loose, a secret and deeply-embedded grievance that is finally seeming to shake apart. It’s still there, and perhaps it will never truly go away, but for the first time since Kaeya had set foot upon this land— he can begin to see the loops of it, can begin to see where it could, with some patient tugging, finally come undone.

When he finally opens his eyes again, Venti is just smiling at him, very gently, not saying a word.

“You alright?” he finally murmurs.

And Kaeya smiles back.

“Never better,” he says.

Before he can say more, the entire clearing erupts in loud cheering. Kaeya turns around to see that the Dawn Winery shipment has finally arrived. On one side, Connor and Charles are already beginning to unload the barrels from the cart. Nearer to Kaeya and Venti, old hunch-backed Tunner seems to be preparing to do the same. Kaeya immediately begins to stride towards him.

“May I help you unload the wagon?” he asks.

Tunner turns, smiling in recognition as he sees Kaeya.

“Master Kaeya,” he greets, and nods. “The help would be appreciated.

“I can help as well!” Venti offers, jogging closer, but Tunner merely laughs.

“You had best sit down, dear boy,” he chides. “A little ‘un like you, you'll be crushed by the barrel!”

Kaeya can't help but laugh at that.

If only Tunner knew.

“Join the line before it gets too long,” he tells Venti fondly. “Don’t worry. I'll help with the unloading.”

The festivities soon begin with song, dance, a few speeches, and then, the ceremonial opening of the casks.

Kaeya is standing by Klee when the uncasking begins, apprehensive despite himself. He can't help but remember, suddenly, how the wind did not immediately blow the year before, and how Klee’s hopes were nearly crushed. At that time, he remembers how Paimon had tried to comfort her, frantically explaining that Lord Barbatos must have come in a different form. In retrospect, she must have been talking about Venti.

Today, however, the sky is slightly overcast, and a mild, salt-scented breeze has been blowing all morning, so the opening of the casks passes without incident.

Klee is elated.

“Lord Barbatos is home!” she cries, jumping up and down. “Lord Barbatos came home!”

The clearing lights up in cheers and applause. Sister Grace watches with a fond smile as the young knight skips off, clearly sneaking away to go fish-blasting with Bennett and Razor, with Aether following to supervise. For once, Jean does nothing to stop them.

And thus, with the ceremony over, and the children out of the way, the party finally goes into full swing, the rest of the attendees eagerly heading for the bar to down glass after glass of wine. Before too long, however, a quiet rumble issues from somewhere beyond the overcast clouds, and a light rain begins to fall. Those in attendance begin to boo, or make otherwise disappointed noises. Some of them sigh, beginning to gather their belongings, clearly about to seek shelter from the coming storm.

Then, abruptly, a huge gale begins to blow, howling on for a good ten seconds or so.

All around the clearing, people hold onto their hats. Several tables flip over in the wind, chairs tumbling along the grass, but when the gale finally stops, some time later, the rain clouds have passed completely. The festival venue is quite the mess now, but as the clouds part, and the sun begins to shine down upon the upended tables and scattered ribbons, everyone begins to cheer with great enthusiasm.

“Thank Barbatos,” someone sighs gratefully.

“Do you suppose that was actually him?” someone else interjects, a little more thoughtfully.

Meanwhile, on Kaeya's other side, Venti stumbles over to where Kaeya is standing by a wagon of apples, heaving himself up onto the cart.

“That was a very strong gust of wind,” Kaeya comments mildly. “Did Barbatos really need to send us a hurricane?”

“Well,” Venti grumbles, “I'm fucking sloshed, alright?”

Kaeya lets out a surprised bark of laughter at that, as Venti lies down, and curls up in the wagon.

“What are you doing?” Kaeya asks, amused.

“Sleeping off the wine,” Venti mumbles, eyes already closed, “so I can wake up and have more later.”

His breathing evens out, beginning to rumble a little with the smallest and quietest of snores.

For a long moment, Kaeya just stands there, watching him with a strange sense of fondness, with a kind of blooming gratitude, maybe even an odd and emerging sense of protectiveness . Finally, however, he snaps out of it, and with a quiet chuckle, goes to look for the tarp for the wagon.

Passing by, Jean double-takes, and quickly hurries over.

“Is he alright?” she hisses frantically. “What's wrong with him?”

Kaeya just laughs.

“He’s fine,” he says fondly. “He's just wasted.”

“Oh,” Jean says, seeming to calm down a little. “Alright then.”

As she goes back off, Kaeya finds the tarp folded up just beside the wagon, and quickly flicks it out to lay over the sleeping Venti, sighing a little to himself as he does.

“You're really bad at this whole secret identity thing, you know,” he murmurs.

To his surprise, however, Venti lets out a quiet huff of laughter in response, more an exhale than anything. After a moment, he opens his eyes, meeting Kaeya's gaze, and then— he smiles, fondly and tenderly.

“Perhaps I am,” he says simply.

After another moment, he closes his eyes again.

“Sir Kaeya,” he murmurs, “you were away for a long time. Did you find what you were looking for there?”

“No,” Kaeya admits.

There is a moment of silence, before he speaks again.

“But perhaps the answers I was seeking were always back here,” he says, and pauses, before continuing, more quietly— “Were always back home.”

At that, Venti lets out a quiet, sleepy chuckle.

“Welcome home, Sir Kaeya,” he whispers, very softly. “Please, enjoy the festivities.”

He mumbles inaudibly, shifts a little in his sleep, and does not move again.

In the afternoon, they all return to the city, where drapes and baubles have been hung roof to roof and canopy to canopy. There's a great party in the plaza, roaring on with grand ferocity.

After the many glasses he'd had, Kaeya is starting to feel a little buzzed, so the afternoon passes into evening in a pleasant haze as he sits at the Good Hunter, watching the people mingle. He shares a pot of tea with Lisa and Noelle, catches up with Jean, and ends up treating Albedo and Sucrose to dessert. At some point, he looks up from his mug to see people dancing .

At the center of them all, it looks like Venti is trying to teach Klee a folk dance that, evidently, no one else knows. Eventually, however, Eula strides decisively over, and holds out a hand. Venti stares at it with some surprise before, after a moment, Eula shakes her hand more impatiently.

Laughing a little, Venti finally obliges, placing his hand in hers, and Eula immediately sweeps him into a fast-paced whirlwind of a jive. His eyes go wide, mouth ajar in clear delight as Eula twirls and dips him all around the plaza for Klee’s entertainment, yelling a little in surprise at some of the sharper turns while Klee laughs and jumps excitedly.

Outside of the aristocratic families, ballroom dances are seldom taught anymore. As a ward of the Ragvindr family, Kaeya had learnt them, but he knows few others in Mondstadt had. Upon closer inspection, however, it looks like, surprised hollering aside, Venti does actually know the steps.

Perhaps, Kaeya can't help but think to himself, a little amused, there was once a time that ballroom dancing was the main form of social dancing, even amongst the common people. It's a strange thought, the kinds of things Venti might have picked up over the centuries. He's very likely a veritable trove of historical knowledge. The scholars Kaeya had met back in Sumeru would most definitely have a field day with him, though, with his propensity for mischief and his penchant for theatrics, even when not pranking people into believing the most outlandish things, he certainly does like to embellish his tales.

They'd have to figure out a reliable way to get the truth out of him, Kaeya supposes. Though, in Kaeya's opinion, he doesn't think they would be very likely to succeed.

When the song is over, and the next one begins, Eula deftly swaps partners, seizing Klee, and immediately beginning to spin and dip her all around the plaza. The drunken onlookers watch on, smiling and laughing, as Klee squeals in delight. Laughing loudly as well, Venti floats up— floats up— to perch on top of the fountain. Everyone else seems too drunk to find issue with that, or more plausibly, they have simply dismissed it as him using his vision.

From atop the fountain, Venti begins to play a fast-paced song, calling out to encourage the crowd to clap along. The crowd clears a space in the middle for Eula and Klee to dance, clapping and laughing, as Eula quickly makes full use of the space given.

It is not long before other couples begin to join them in their own improvised dances. He sees Nimrod and Eury dancing cheek-to-cheek, and it seems Beatrice has finally gone and asked Quinn for a dance, because they soon emerge onto the dancefloor, to widespread cheers and raucous hooting. Beatrice looks elated, but Quinn, unfortunately, just looks confused at the applause.

At some point, a clearly tipsy Draff steps into the plaza with a shrieking and hissing Diona hoisted up in his arms, having apparently pulled her from where she had been serving a shift mixing drinks by the plaza. As he waltzes her around with long, exaggerated steps, she soon begins to smile, and then to laugh, even as she continues to beat her fists mock-furiously against his chest.

Kaeya soon catches sight of Jean and Lisa standing in the periphery, wine glasses in hand. While Lisa looks the same as always, the wine has tinted Jean’s fair complexion with a faint flush. The two women are laughing and clapping against their wrists. By their feet, Bennett is sat on the ground with Razor, seemingly trying to teach him some game that has to do with marbles. 

On the other side of the plaza from the Cat Tail’s stand, Diluc is serving drinks with Charles on his left, but in the downtime between customers, he is watching the dancing with a small smile. Sucrose, Albedo, and Timaeus are chatting with Mona by the alchemy bench, all with a drink in hand. Behind them, it looks like Paimon and Aether are trying to pull Fischl and Noelle onto the dancefloor.

Kaeya feels suddenly very warm, with everyone he cares about within his sight, and all laughing and clapping and smiling joyously. In the middle of it all, Venti is still perched atop the fountain, strumming his lyre in a manner that seems increasingly more suited to an electric guitar than a lyre. Kaeya can't help but laugh a little at that, before sobering in quiet appreciation.

This is Kaeya's home.

This is the place he belongs.

He had been away for only two weeks, but oh, how he had missed Mondstadt, even while he was too afraid to return. He had missed the people. He had missed the leisurely air of the city. He had missed the taverns and the wine and the drunken parties. He had missed every single thing about the place.

He watches the dancing with a fond smile until, with a frothy mug of apple cider in hand, Amber breaks him from his thoughts with a hesitant tap to the shoulder.

“I'm fairly sure that standing on the fountain violates at least seven safety regulations,” she whispers, looking up at Venti. “Should we ask him to come down?”

At that, Kaeya merely laughs.

“No, it's fine,” he says gamely. “Let him have his fun.”

Amber hesitates for a moment, turning to look back at Venti as a drunkenly swaying Jack wades into the water, a bottle of wine tucked under one arm, to offer it to the bard. As Jack climbs back out of the fountain, Venti takes a long swig straight from the bottle, before lodging it in one of the grooves of the fountain’s central sculpture, continuing to play.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Amber asks doubtfully.

But Kaeya just smiles fondly.

“Venti,” he says, “can do what he wants.”

Soon enough, Sara arrives with a sticky honey roast for Amber. Eula finally emerges from the crowd at the same time, huffing and puffing and seemingly done with dancing at last. As she collapses opposite the table from them, not even greeting Kaeya, her wrist draped over her bright red face, Kaeya stands, and slowly makes his way into the plaza.

Now sans a dance partner, Klee is jumping and spinning quite enthusiastically around Paimon and Fischl, while Aether dances more sedately with Noelle nearby. Smiling, Kaeya charts a path for Diluc, who, from the looks of things, is about to take a break from his bartending. As Kaeya shoulders through the drunken crowd, however, he quickly runs into a clearly tipsy Jean.

It seems Lisa has been pulled into some conversation with the children. She is bent down beside Razor and Bennett in her fine dress. Jean is standing by herself, watching them with a smile, but she turns around when Kaeya taps her on the shoulder. 

Her complexion has deepened from a faint pink to a dark, brilliant red.

“May I have this dance, milady?” Kaeya asks, grinning as he dips into a low, theatrical bow.

Startled by the request, Jean’s surprise seems to turn quickly into vague embarrassment.

“Oh,” she says, her flush deepening even further, “but really , Kaeya?”

“Really,” Kaeya confirms. “Come on, Jeanie, let's show them a real ballroom dance, shall we?”

And finally, Jean sets down her half-empty glass on a nearby ledge.

“Well,” she says. “Alright then.”

She takes his offered hand, and they quickly launch into a lively quickstep. 

Around then, everyone begins to holler and hoot. After a moment, seemingly brought back to passion by the sight of their fast-paced twirling, Eula sweeps back onto the unofficial dancefloor with a shrieking Amber in her arms while, up on the fountain, Venti continues strumming passionately away, singing in joyful harmony with the other bards carousing around the plaza. Here and there, others wade into the pool with their skirts or pant legs hitched up, lodging bottles in the crevices of the fountain for him, before climbing back out. Kaeya has lost count of the number of safety regulations likely being violated.

“You know,” Jean finally says, after a long moment. “We really should ask him to come down from there.”

“If he falls, he falls,” Kaeya dismisses with a good-natured chuckle. “It won't hurt him, and it would certainly be funny. Just let him do what he wants, Jean.”

And unexpectedly, Jean actually laughs in response to that.

“It would, actually,” she admits fondly, collar finally loosened in her apparent inebriation. “It would , in fact, be funny.”