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It was fascinating how a storm in the rainforest was a symphony of many layers. A heavy rhythm vibrated through the canopy above and the sound of splashing as drops collected and flowed off leaves pervaded the understory, streaming down to the ferns and soil below. Against tree trunks and rotting logs, landed wet, heavy thumps.
And that was just the single physics of rain. Sumeru was a whole other world from Mondstadt.
Sucrose, Collei and Sethos stood just outside the hollow of a massive tree, watching from their fungal balcony as the forest changed. The storm approached with the South Wind—seeming so curiously different from the one she grew up with—and the first warm tones of late afternoon had been swallowed by storm clouds. A flash of lightning split the sky and Sucrose counted the seconds before the low rumble followed from the distance.
“Ah, the wind feels nice from up here.” Sethos sighed contentedly, throwing his arms out wide as a cool wind swept through their level of the forest, refreshing in contrast to the humidity of the day.
“Hopefully the weather will be clearer tomorrow morning so we can glide from here.” Collei said, her voice straining slightly to be heard over the rising percussion.
“Ah, we can savor it for now though. The desert doesn’t get rain like this!” Sethos plopped down on the moss and leaned back on his hands, facing the sky like he was trying to soak up all the rain.
Sucrose turned her palms up to catch the huge, heavy raindrops, smiling. “Neither does Mondstadt!”
Collei giggled. “Amber told me that besides Stormterror, the most intense storms in Mondstadt are from your Hypostasis experiments.”
Sucrose gave a sheepish smile.
Another wind rustled the canopy and the rain picked up. It was hard to ever be completely dry in the rainforest but the three of them were now completely drenched, clothes heavy and clinging to their skin. Sucrose watched through the water drops on her glasses as the forest transformed into a mosaic of many streams. It was a slight inconvenience that she’d seen much of the rainforest through some layer of fog, but the sheer amount of curiosities and fascinations was worth the constant wiping the lenses.
Sucrose removed and pocketed her glasses, revealing just a blur of colors—greens in a myriad of shades, browns, blues and greys and mist, all dynamic and living things.
They stayed out there for a few minutes before Collei and Sucrose retreated inside the room-sized hollow carved in the tree. A little maroon, capped blob awaited them.
“Oh, Aranama! Hi!” Sucrose greeted, wiping her wet lenses with her wetter shirt.
They’d met Aranama north of Apam Woods, asking for help regarding something left by an old friend. The Aranara had accompanied them the past few days as they’d hiked, camped and waded through streams, even leading them to a fascinating cave inhabited by harmless fungal communities that mimicked plant life outside but without reliance on sunlight for photosynthesis—
“Are they back?” Collei asked. She retrieved the Nirnama Detector from her pocket—a simple circular gadget with a slightly green-tinted lens, apparently modified by the Dendro Archon herself and allowed even ‘grown-ups’ to see Aranara. Hat Guy had managed to borrow it from the Akademiya. He’d handed the lens to Collei and Sethos and showed no interest in it since.
It was still a mystery why Sethos could perceive Aranama without the Nirnama Detector, despite being unable to see other Aranara, but Sucrose was thrilled for the first evidence that maybe someone could gain or regain the perception they lost. But for now at least, Collei got to be the keeper of the lens.
Sucrose realized Aranama was pacing back and forth in clipped, anxious ovals. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
Aranama paused for a moment mid-waddle. “The sky is angry and the wind strong.”
“It’s storming…” Sucrose brows pinched and glanced outside at the storm. “Is there something wrong?” Aranara were highly attuned to the forest. Could Aranama sense some encroaching danger from the weather that humans couldn’t detect?
Aranama hopped anxiously to the entrance and pointed outside. “Nara Sethos still outside.”
“I think they want Sethos to come inside,” Sucrose told Collei.
“Why?”
“They seem anxious because of the storm…”
From his wood ledge-seat in the corner, Hat Guy snorted. His arms were crossed and he was leaning back against the wall. “Don’t tell me the onion is scared of a little storm.”
Aranama pivoted towards Hat Guy. “Nara Shroompish stupid. Trees fall and burn. Too much water tears up roots. Storms are hungry and sing danger. Tell Nara Shroompish to get eaten by a storm.”
Sucrose bit her lip as Aranama stared up at her with their perpetual goofy grin and earnest insistence in her deliverance of the most important messages. “Aranama says you should get eaten by a storm,” Sucrose told Hat Guy.
Collei laughed. Hat Guy said flatly, “I’ll pass.”
Sucrose relaxed a bit, privately concluding that there probably was no impending doom—only the high-strung whims of their Aranara companion. Of all the Aranara she’d encountered since coming to Sumeru, Aranama was perhaps the most mercurial, possessing a spirited imagination that could turn a dewdrop into a probable disaster—for at least a minute at a time.
The morning had been a study in such contradictions—there felt like patterns but Aranara were complicated communicators and Sucrose hadn’t grasped them yet.
Aranama had entreated Sethos to carry them across a shallow creek, claiming the current was “a hungry monster,” only to waddle back into the water moments later to rescue a stray bit of woven rope snagged on a stone to add to their hat. Inside the mimetic fungi cave, Aranama insisted the group adopt a specific, rhythmic gait to “avoid hurting the feelings of the shade-growers.” When Hat Guy broke stride, Aranama demanded an apology to the mushrooms, only to forget the rules about walking a minute later when they spotted a dirty blue string. Throughout the trek, Aranama sneakily tucked forest blossoms into the pockets of Collei’s pack and during lunch at the river’s edge Aranama became convinced that the seasoned meat in Sucrose’s rice wraps was poison and only allowed her to eat after she’d been directed to find and consume a specific curled fern frond which would “turn the poison into a song.”
“It’s okay, Aranama,” Sucrose consoled them now. “Storms are vital for the forest’s survival, and plants need water to grow.”
“Drinking is good for plants but too much rain and they drown. Like Nara.”
Sucrose went over and sat down on a cushion of moss beside her backpack. “We’re high enough that we’re safe from floods.”
“Close to the sky when it makes fire and sweeps friends away,” Aranama insisted.
Sucrose paraphrased their words to include Collei in the conversation.
“Don’t worry. The lightning is still far away and the wind isn't too strong. I’ve seen a hundred storms way worse than this. I don’t think we’re in danger,” Collei told them, sitting down next to Sucrose.
Lightning flashed outside. Sucrose twisted her hair and the front of her shirt to wring out some of the water. “Aranama, you must’ve witnessed many storms like this too, right?”
Before Aranama could respond, thunder split with a resonant boom through the air. Sucrose blinked and Aranama was gone in the way Aranara can…traverse the forest? dreams?
“Oh.”
Collei glanced around with the lens. “Huh. They really just don’t like storms.”
“I wonder if Aranama’s worried for their safety, the forest or for us.”
It was interesting how each Aranara was so different. All had unique personalities and interpretations of the forest they were part of.
“Alright, what’s the crisis?” Sethos asked, stepping into the hollow, dripping droplets from his hair and clothes. “Aranama said I’m needed for something.”
Sucrose and Collei both glanced up, momentarily confused.
“You aren't,” Hat Guy drawled from his corner, not even bothering to open his eyes. “The cabbage is trying to herd us inside because it’s scared of a little lightning.”
“What? But it’s incredible out there!” Sethos exclaimed. He scanned the hollow before spotting Aranama against the back wall. Sethos grinned and he gave a sweeping, theatrical gesture toward the open air. “C’mon, little friend, I’ll show you! You’re missing the best part.”
Aranama hopped forward indignantly as they chased after him. “No, no! Stay inside. The hollow is for hiding when wind steals and sky-fire bites! Standing outside is for silly seeds!”
“A title I take great pride in! The rain feels amazing, and just listen to the way the wind and trees sing—don’t you think you should stay out and witness it clearly?”
“No,” Aranama chirped flatly.
Sethos laughed. “Alright, to each their own. Then you can stay here and keep everyone safe.” He stepped back out into the blur of the downpour.
“Nara Sethos stupid,” Aranama whimpered, hovering at the center of the hollow. “Rain makes mushrooms slippery and wind strong. Stupid Nara fall.”
“Aranama’s worried he’ll slip,” Sucrose translated, her voice a little soft with sympathy for the anxious creature.
“He’s fine,” Wanderer said flatly. “He’s like a child who just discovered water is wet. Let him learn it’s nothing to be excited about.”
Aranama didn’t retort back this time. They stood still facing the roar of the entrance. Then, with a sudden, mournful hop, they vanished into thin air again.
“...Maybe they’re afraid because something happened in the past?” Collei suggested. “Like… they’ve gotten upset when one of us split off from the others, even a little bit. We don’t know what happened to their friend except that they’ve been gone a long time…”
“You can’t force people into a cage just because you’re afraid they’ll break,” Hat Guy declared, leaning back and pulling the brim of his hat lower.
“That’s true,” Sucrose said, her mind already drifting toward a new trail of thought. “But I wonder if those, uh,, rituals Aranama had us follow had a reason, even if it was just like, familiarity? If they’re looking for something their friend left behind, maybe their behavior is a form of grief or fear of repeating it?”
Sucrose adjusted her glasses. Collei’s words made her think… Aranara, like humans, learned and underwent individual growth throughout their lives. Sucrose hypothesized psychological trauma played a role in determining whether or not someone could perceive the Aranara—whether ‘grown-up’ or not. Aranara said ‘Nara walk with time’ but Aranara aging seemed to be based on memories. Or specifically, painful memories? —in the way suffering promotes growth but can inhibit curiosity and imagination?
She began rummaging through her backpack for her notebook, suddenly eager to cross-reference her earlier observations, but stopped when she felt a poke at her arm. Collei was vibrating with a suppressed grin, pointing a finger toward the corner.
Sucrose looked just in time to see Aranama, hovering inches from Hat Guy’s shoulder, place some kind of…insect on his hat.
Hat Guy didn’t react or seem to notice.
Aranama vanished, only to reappear seconds later with a damp leaf. Then another insect. Then a small, muddy twig. Each item was balanced with care atop his head.
Collei got flowers, Hat Guy got bugs, apparently. Sucrose covered her mouth to stifle a laugh, vividly reminded of the times she’d tested her cat’s patience by stacking crackers on his head while he slept.
After a pause in Aranama’s activity, Hat Guy let out a long sigh. “Are you done?” he asked, as if he knew exactly what was happening and had simply chosen to tolerate it.
He reached up, snatching his hat and shaking the collection of leaves and probably unsuspecting innocent hitchhikers onto the ground. But the moment his head was bare, Aranama reappeared directly above him and dumped a concentrated pile of forest mulch directly onto his dark hair.
Hat Guy froze. His lips thinned into a line and he exhaled a sharp, singular breath through his nose. Without a word, he stood up and walked straight out into the rain.
Aranama simply hovered in place and watched him go. Collei broke into a fit of laughter, and Sucrose let out a sympathetic giggle.
...
Sethos was sprawled on his back, elbows splayed and hands tucked behind his head, fully relishing the fury of the storm. He loved the weight of the living wind and the cool downpour.
When he suddenly sensed a presence on the soaked moss beside him, he craned his neck and squinted through the rain.
“Oh, hey!” Sethos shouted over the storm’s percussion. “Come to lend me a magnificent umbrella?”
He propped himself up on an arm, his grin widening at the sight of the Wanderer’s scowl and lack of signature headwear; he held his hat at his side like a shield he’d given up on. His hair was already plastered to his forehead in dark, jagged spikes, making him look especially like a grumpy, wet cat.
“I was bullied into babysitting you because an invisible radish is convinced you’re too stupid for rain,” Wanderer told him flatly.
Sethos threw his head back and laughed. “So what I’m hearing is, if I slip, you’re going to catch me?”
Wanderer eyed him warily. Sethos grinned back.
Sethos waited a beat, then made a feint as if he were about to spring to his feet. Before he could even leave the moss, lightning-fast fingers snagged the fabric of his damp shirt. Sethos broke into fresh peals of laughter as Wanderer pulled him back.