Chapter Text
venria has never been one to dwell on her past experiences. not even on king remus, who betrayed her so deeply. ven typically takes her life in stride, thinking about neither the past nor the future. with all this being true, she’s still caught up on today.
tonight's the lantern rite. the night when all lost souls are (hoped to be) guided home. it's a fruitful day, where all of liyue celebrates, eats well, sleeps well...it's a nice time of year, generally. venria also usually enjoys the chilly season, where she can talk to the adepti in one place at a time (for once), and where she can let a lantern of her own float into the sky without anyone else's knowledge. she's done this for hundreds of years, this same routine.
but always, always, after the lanterns are lost into surrounding nations and liyue finally rests, there's one thing that nags her. and it's nagged her for every single year that she's borne witness to the tradition. she likes to be alone when she ponders this thought, looking over liyue harbor like some sort of silent protector. that's where she stands now, on the same rock formation that she's stood on for hundereds of years, at the top of mt tianheng.
she can't think about the lantern rite in the same way that everyone else does. she just can't. she's seen too many people in her life pass--adeptal or not--to believe that their souls are endlessly being guided home. those souls have been guided for...too long at this point. as she watches people around her enjoy the festivities and hope, she's just...stuck.
she doesn't like dwelling on it. but she can't not. this is the one day of the entire year where she allows herself to just sit a minute. to think.
venria watches the lights in the harbor dim slowly, watches men in drunken stupors stumble home and children look out at the stars from their windows. liyue harbor was asleep, but still very alive. like her, in a way. she spaces out, lost in the inner corners of her mind, too caught up in her own self to realize the presence behind her.
"i knew i would find you here," xiao says simply, lingering at a short distance away from her. "...you should be back before dawn."
venria turns just her head to look at him, and sighs (more of a huff than anything, really). "i always am." is all she manages back. she can't stomach the thought of returning to the inn with xiao at the moment, where she knows the festivities are still running high with the food still being cooked hot, with laughter and light and mortal joy. he should know that she wouldn't want to return to that right now. he does know. honestly, he doesn't want to either. he'd much rather return when it quiets down and the sun's just peeking over the horizon.
he doesn't respond to ven's short answer, just lingers next to her quietly. like some sort of statue. but it does help; it always does.
while the nation of geo below them celebrates life and wistful hope, they stand stagnant overlooking the harbor. this has been the case for centuries past, and it will be for the far future. this is just how things will always be, which is bittersweet; venria will never be able to fully appreciate the lantern rite for what it is, but she will also always end up on mt. tianheng, watching liyue harbor fall into sleep. which might be as fulfillfing as the rite itself is.