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The wind over Starsnatch Cliff was calm.
Which, according to Venti, was “the perfect kind of weather for making excellent decisions.”
Aether wasn’t convinced.
Paimon wasn’t convinced either.
“So,” Paimon began, floating beside Aether, “weren’t we just supposed to practice gliding?”
“We are!” Venti said cheerfully. “But before any proper lesson begins, every aspiring glider must learn the Four Sacred Rules of Gliding.”
Paimon blinked.
“…The what?”
“The Four Sacred Rules.”
“There are four rules?”
“Naturally.”
Paimon crossed her arms.
“Paimon’s pretty sure everyone just takes the official gliding exam.”
Venti waved a dismissive hand.
“Oh, that’s just paperwork.”
“Paperwork is important!”
“Not nearly as important as ancient wisdom.”
Aether glanced at Paimon.
“…Should we question how ‘ancient’ this wisdom actually is?”
“Absolutely.”
Venti placed a dramatic hand over his heart.
“Rule One.”
He closed his eyes as a gentle breeze stirred his cape.
“Never fight the wind.”
The teasing smile faded from his face.
“Listen to it instead.”
The air grew quiet.
“The wind has carried birds, travelers, and dreamers for longer than anyone can remember. If you stop trying to force your own path… you’ll often find the wind already knows one.”
Aether looked out across Mondstadt.
The breeze curled around him, light and gentle.
“…That’s actually good advice.”
Paimon stared.
“Wait.”
She pointed accusingly at Venti.
“Why are you making sense?”
Venti smiled.
“I do occasionally.”
“I don’t trust it.”
“You wound me.”
“Not enough.”
Aether chuckled.
“So that’s Rule One.”
“Indeed.”
Venti nodded proudly.
“Now…”
He raised one finger.
“Rule Two.”
Aether waited.
Paimon waited.
“You must always wink at at least one cloud before takeoff.”
Silence.
“…What?” Paimon asked.
“The clouds appreciate good manners.”
“They’re clouds!”
“They have feelings.”
“No they don’t!”
“How do you know?”
“Because they’re CLOUDS!”
“They’ve never complained.”
“Exactly!”
Venti smiled triumphantly.
“See? They’re polite.”
Paimon turned toward Aether.
“Don’t encourage him.”
Aether looked up at the nearest fluffy cloud.
“…”
He sighed.
“…”
He winked.
Venti clapped enthusiastically.
“Excellent technique!”
“I don’t know why I did that.”
“The cloud knows.”
“There is no way it does.”
“There is every way.”
To prove Rule Two, Venti declared they would glide through three cloud shadows while complimenting the sky.
Aether jumped first.
As he glided overhead, he awkwardly muttered,
“…Nice weather today?”
“The sky accepts your compliment,” Venti called.
Paimon buried her face in her hands.
“This is the dumbest lesson Paimon’s ever attended.”
“It’ll get dumber,” Venti promised.
“I was afraid you’d say that.”
Once they landed, Venti dusted off his hands.
“Rule Three.”
His expression suddenly became unusually serious.
“There is one mistake that no glider should ever make.”
Aether leaned forward.
Paimon floated closer.
“Never attempt a midair bow while carrying three apples.”
Silence.
“…Three?” Aether asked.
“Precisely three.”
Paimon narrowed her eyes.
“That happened to you.”
“…Perhaps.”
“It absolutely happened to you.”
“I cannot confirm or deny such allegations.”
“You just confirmed them.”
Venti looked toward the sky.
“I was young.”
Paimon blinked.
“Weren’t you already hundreds of years old?”
“…I was emotionally young.”
Aether laughed.
“So what happened?”
Venti sighed dramatically.
“I wished to thank an audience while delivering fruit.”
“And?”
“I underestimated gravity.”
“…And?”
“I overestimated myself.”
“…And?”
“There may have been cider involved.”
Paimon pointed triumphantly.
“I KNEW IT!”
“History remembers only the important details.”
“I’m pretty sure history doesn’t remember this at all.”
“It should.”
“Please no.”
“Now!” Venti announced. “Time for the practical portion!”
Paimon immediately looked suspicious.
“Why does that sound dangerous?”
“It builds character.”
“It builds hospital visits.”
“There are no hospitals involved.”
“I don’t believe you.”
Venti spread his glider.
“Our challenge is simple.”
“No apples?”
“No apples.”
“No bows?”
“No bows.”
“Excellent.”
“Simply trust the wind.”
Aether stepped to the edge of the cliff.
He took a breath.
Jumped.
The breeze caught his wings perfectly.
He adjusted smoothly, gliding between rising currents with practiced ease.
The wind lifted him effortlessly.
He drifted over the meadow before landing softly on both feet.
Barely a sound.
Venti applauded.
“Marvelous!”
Paimon clapped excitedly.
“That was amazing!”
Aether smiled.
“…Maybe Rule One actually helped.”
“Of course it did.”
Venti stepped confidently toward the edge.
“My turn.”
He leaped.
For approximately four glorious seconds, everything looked perfect.
Then a sudden gust shifted.
Venti corrected.
Overcorrected.
Spun once.
Twice.
“…Interesting,” Aether muttered.
“Entirely intentional!” Venti shouted.
Three seconds later—
THUNK!
The oak tree halfway down the hill caught him with impressive enthusiasm.
Leaves exploded everywhere.
Birds scattered into the sky.
A single apple dropped from somewhere inside the branches and bonked him on the head.
Paimon stared.
“…”
“…”
“…You flew into a tree.”
Venti slowly peeled himself off the trunk.
“The tree,” he declared with complete confidence, “was part of the lesson.”
“It was?”
“Naturally.”
“What lesson?”
“Life is full of unexpected obstacles.”
“You literally aimed at it!”
“I embraced the obstacle.”
“The obstacle embraced you harder.”
“I was demonstrating adaptability.”
“You bounced.”
“I adapted after bouncing.”
Aether couldn’t help laughing.
“You okay?”
Venti brushed leaves from his hair with as much dignity as someone covered in twigs could manage.
“Perfectly.”
A small branch remained stuck behind one braid.
He either didn’t notice…
…or chose not to.
At that moment, footsteps approached.
Amber rounded the path.
She paused.
Looked at Aether.
Looked at Paimon.
Looked at Venti standing beneath a tree with leaves in his hair and an apple in his hand.
Five long seconds passed.
Amber sighed.
“…As long as nobody’s hurt.”
“Nope!” Venti answered brightly.
“…Good.”
Without another word, she continued walking.
Paimon watched her disappear.
“…She didn’t even ask.”
“I believe,” Venti said proudly, “that speaks to her faith in us.”
“I think it means this isn’t the first time she’s seen you do something like this.”
“…Also possible.”
The laughter slowly faded.
A quiet breeze rolled across the hill.
The city of Mondstadt shimmered peacefully in the distance.
Venti looked toward it, his smile becoming softer.
“There is one final rule.”
For the first time that afternoon…
There wasn’t a trace of mischief in his voice.
“It isn’t about perfect takeoffs.”
He looked up as a pair of birds glided overhead.
“It isn’t about flawless landings.”
“The official exam matters.”
“But it isn’t everything.”
He smiled gently.
“If you spend every flight worrying about making mistakes…”
“…you’ll forget why people wanted to fly in the first place.”
The wind brushed through the grass around them.
“Gliding isn’t about proving yourself.”
“It’s about trusting the wind.”
“Feeling free.”
“Enjoying the journey instead of fearing the fall.”
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Aether gazed across the open sky.
The breeze felt different somehow.
Not because it had changed…
But because he had.
He smiled quietly.
“…I think I understand.”
Venti smiled back.
“I thought you might.”
Paimon sniffed.
“…P-Paimon wasn’t getting emotional.”
Aether looked over.
“I didn’t say you were.”
“It was just…”
She rubbed one eye.
“…The wind.”
“Mm.”
“The wind made Paimon’s eyes water.”
“Of course.”
“…Anyway.”
She instantly brightened.
“Who’s paying for lunch?”
Venti gasped dramatically.
“What unfortunate timing.”
“My wallet appears to have been carried away by the wind.”
“You don’t even have a wallet!”
“A tragic consequence of Rule Five.”
Aether blinked.
“…Rule Five?”
Venti froze.
“…”
Paimon slowly turned toward him.
“…Rule Five?”
“I mean…”
“…Rule Four.”
“You said there were four rules.”
“There are.”
“You also said they’d existed for thousands of years.”
“They have.”
“You admitted you made at least one of them up.”
“…Creative preservation of tradition.”
“And now there’s a Rule Five!”
Venti folded his arms with complete confidence.
“The Four Sacred Rules of Gliding have remained unchanged for thousands of years.”
Paimon stared.
“You contradicted yourself three times in one conversation!”
Venti smiled as another breeze tugged gently at his cape.
“The wind edits history.”
“It absolutely does not!”
“…Agree to disagree?”
Paimon groaned loudly enough for half of Mondstadt to hear.
Aether simply laughed.
Somewhere high above them, the wind carried the sound away…
…and if it had an opinion about Venti’s lesson, it never shared it.