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At the Knights of Favonius Camp in Nod-Krai, Varka finds himself looking over a map of Wildhunt sightings in the area. They’ve decreased drastically with the defeat of Rerir, but they’ve still got quite a bit of work to do. He’s just about ready to pack up and finally go back home, or, well, his tent. But it's close enough.
He steps down from the main tent, he's really gotta start packing things up before getting back to Mondstadt. Though, there's still time. As he's about to relax, he hears the flickering of candlelight; normally he'd write it off as a Knight on patrol, but he'd come to expect a visitor at this time of night.
“Didn't see you there, pal, how've you been?” Varka says, turning around to meet his friend, as Flins walks up to him, greeting him with a brief wave.
“Greetings, my friend. With the Wild Hunt in the area since subdued, I cannot bring any complaints.” He brings something to a smile, as he tilts his head up to meet Varka's eyes.
“I take it you've been faring well?” Flins continues.
“Hah! That's a relief! You Lightkeepers are just like the Knights, about time you could take some time off too.” Varka pats Flins on the back, which Flins seemingly receives with a slight heave of the force.
‘This human has no respect for boundaries.’ Flins remarks to himself internally, though he can't find it in him to inherently hold a grudge against him.
“You should grab a drink with me soon, you know? A bit in a pinch though, down to our last few barrels.” Varka continues, as Flins watches Varka walk down to another tent where the Knights keep all their booze. As Varka walks away, he continues responding to Flin's other comments from before, as the fae watches on.
“As for me? Uh, not bad!” Varka humors as he grabs a mug off a crate.
“Just alright, day's been slow, until you showed up.” He takes a knee and checks some of the taps on the barrels, finding a few empty.
“Besides, I got time to burn, you gonna take me up on that offer?” Varka says checking a few more barrels before finding one with good flow.
"I mean, c'mon, you're my best drinking pal in all of Nod-Krai after all. Hey, maybe even in the world. Hah! I'm joking, I think.” Varka comments, and Flins continues to observe, waiting for him to finish.
Varka gets about half of the mug full before the barrel decides to give out. Varka pouts before chugging the mug down, and slamming it against the barrel again, eliciting a few more drops of the tap before it goes dry.
“Dang! We’re out of booze! Sorry, Sir Flins. The best I can do is some juice, are you still down?” Varka holds out another mug for Flins to take, and he receives it.
At this point in the night, most of the other nights of Favonius are already knocked out cold, either by drinking the last few bottles of beer, draining the barrels dry, or just by general exhaustion.
Varka, who still finds himself on his knees, checks one of the bottom barrels which holds the juice as he looks up at Flins, “Don't give me that look! We're kinda down on our luck right now. Juice works for you right? Right? Come on, I just wanna drink with you!”
Varka fills a mug with some Wolfhook juice from one of the barrels and takes Flin's mug back to pour some for him as well. “You know, some of the Knights don’t really like this stuff, too bitter for them. I gotta agree to be honest, but it reminds me of home.” Varka says, swirling the mug around.
“Hm. Shall we find somewhere to take a seat?” Flins offers, but Varka brushes him aside. “Nah, I think I know the right place for us to go.” Varka takes the mug and leaves the camp with Flins following close behind.
"Man…” Varka says with a hint of nostalgia in his tone. They stand out in the short graveyard near Amsvartnir made for the Knights and the Lightkeepers alike.
“I remember having a few beers with some old pals here. Sorry, we don't have any on hand right now.” Flins is about to start responding to Varka, but he watches as he pours his mug out for a couple of graves, wetting their gravestone in the juice. Flins tilts his head, this isn't something he's seen before. A foreign tradition, at least not shared with the Lightkeepers.
“Got any old friends, Sir Flins?” Varka comments, taking a seat facing the graves, and Flins decides to share in the tradition, taking a knee next to his friend. Flins pauses to dwell on the question before coming to find his answers.
“Ah. Old comrades… why it's been quite some time since I've last been graced with their presence. I'd imagine I'll see them once more when I return…” Flins hesitates to finish his comment on returning to Final Night's Commentary; he can't place why, though.
Flins shifts the topic, though, “There is no need for such formalities. Addressing me simply as Flins will do. You've already made many fae taboos in the brief time I've gotten to know you.” Flins says with a hint of humor in his tone, which Varka rolls his eyes at.
“Oh, come on! I'll drop the ‘Sir’, sure. But, have I really committed so many taboos? Can't be that bad.” Varka replies, feigning exasperation, but Flins replies curtly, “You and your Knights have decided that the most advantageous position to set camp in was in my Fairy Path to Amsvartnir. However, I cannot be too mad, as you've at least left the path intact. Though, now I have some interruptions.” Flins finishes, but waits to add, “Thank you at least for giving the Seelies rest at their court.” He says, his tone laced with gratitude, but he seems more satisfied with this new addition to Amsvartnir.
Varka rubs the back of his head awkwardly. “Hey, not on me!... that's my logistics Captain's fault…” Varka mutters, and Flins lets out something like a scoff.
“Though, I couldn't let those little guys just wander, plus, I'm trying to gain a new favor from the Hexenzirkel. Nicole's a seelie, so it's natural!” Varka says, and Flins simply nods somewhat absentmindedly. A lot of those terms blended.
He waits for Varka to conclude before continuing. “Then you pass me a bag of Mora after the first time we have made acquaintance.” Flins relays, and Varka gives him a look of confusion. Flins realizes this human happens to know nothing at all about Fae customs.
“And what's so bad with that?” Varka asks, a tad bit confused, and Flins decides to answer him swiftly.
“At first, I imagined you attempted to gain my favor, but it seems that was not your inherent intention, despite it working later. I must say, what was your purpose in doing so?” Flins asks, his voice sincere, but now he's also curious.
“Just thought you'd want something to buy with it. You looked like a vagabond when I first met you! Fog and all, hah!” Varka jokes, and Flins finds himself slightly offended, but concedes on that point.
Varka goes silent for a moment, to which this catches Flins off guard the most, as he finds himself leaning in slightly to his side to listen. “...Though, I get it. I miss some of my old pals too, say hi to some of yours for me. Sounds good?” Varka offers, grabbing his mug again and bringing it out to Flins, and Flins brings his own out to clink them together as the two of them drink.
After a pause, Varka spits out some juice to the ground. “Man… I swore it was better than this.” Varka laments as he downs the rest of the Wolfhook juice.
“Sorry guys, I gotta go. I'll get ya some better stuff next shipment. I'll bring the rest of the Knights too!” Varka says, giving the headstones a good smack before moving.
Something in Flins cringes at the sight, but he finds it very endearing. He has much more to learn about human customs before he can truly come to understand life right beside them any time soon. His mind wanders to the prospect of Grandmaster Varka meeting Young Master Illuga, what a sight to behold, really.
“Hey, let's go to the Flagship. Just a little far from here, but we can get there in time, no doubt!” Varka says proudly as he gets up and stretches, he's not opposed to the idea, though they're bound to take a while to get there.
“Oh? You've piqued my interest, lead the way, my friend.” Flins nods in agreement, before he's taken by the other man and thrown over his shoulder. Flins feels like he's luggage as Varka swirls anemo energy around him.
"Sounds like a plan!” Varka says as he jumps from here and there, crossing distances in a couple of bounds—all the while with Flins' limp on his shoulder.
The two of them arrive in Nasha town, with Flins taking the time to dust himself, and find good footing from the adventure that Varka just took him on. “And here it is! The best tavern in Nod-Krai! A little biased, since it's kinda the only one, but you'll be sure to agree with me, right?” Varka remarks as the patrons already there in the Flagship cheer at the arrival of Varka.
Flins zones out the loud chattering as he finds the words to reply to his friend. “I can find it to be amenable, so I am inclined to agree.” Flins nods, as the two of them take a seat on the cushions. Varka sinks into the seat, while Flins keeps his manners to himself.
Varka picks himself up a bit as he leans over the table. “So, Flins. Whatcha think of the Knights?” Varka speaks with a smirk, seeming pretty happy with himself. Flins pauses, recollecting his thoughts for memories of the Knights of Favonius he's met so far. Excluding Varka himself of course.
“Hm… while I have only gotten to know a few, my thoughts linger on those whom I had the pleasure of encountering, the most memorable… Albedo and Durin, was it?” Flins asks, and Varka perks up, seeming to catch his interest.
“Oh, those two? Yeah! They're good guys, aren't they? You know, they weren't born in Mondstadt, but that's a bonus of the City of Freedom! We accept anyone with open arms. I think they're a great representation of us, don't you think? And the rest of the Knights too, yeah?” Varka rambles on, and Flins lets out a smile at his passion in the other man's voice.
“To feel welcome despite hailing elsewhere. What a befitting representation indeed.” Flins comments with a nod, as Varka receives his drink without even ordering, he's become a regular in these last few years in Nod-Krai. The waiter goes to ask Flins for his own drink of choice, but Flins simply shakes his head in decline.
He pauses once more, but finds his words again after being interrupted, “Ah, but to answer your first question though. I'd say Monstadt is a rather liberating and free nation. One where the wind takes all burdens away. Is that an accurate assumption?” Flins asks, he would like to visit this far-off land one day, it sounds idyllic to what he’s accustomed to. He hopes he can travel there within the life of this friend of his.
Varka cackles, letting out a free laugh, as he takes a sip of his drink. “Haha! That's what we're known for! I think… besides the wine.” Varka comments, and Flins watches on. Humans truly are interesting creatures. Especially this one.
Eventually, Varka calms down, “But, hey! You could also be a Mondstatian! Mondstant… ican? I've never really thought about the term for someone from Mondstadt.” He shrugs, as he takes another sip of his drink.
“All jokes aside. I'm glad the Knights left a good impression on you.” He smiles at Flins earnestly, and Flins finds it a courtesy to respond with one in kind.
“Man, I gotta get outta here before I get too tipsy… Don't want you to be dragged into this too, pal. Well… I did invite ya, though. And did drag you into this… huh.” Varka realizes the irony of his comment eliciting a genuine chuckle from the Fae, and at the sight of this rare scene Varka finds something else bubbling inside him, that's not alcohol this time.