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In hindsight, antagonizing the man with a knife to his kidneys hadn’t been the most… reasonable course of action. But his mouth sometimes worked without the input of his brain. Typically that only happened with the addition of some alcohol, but when someone was leaving a perfectly good joke hanging in the air… No one could really fault him for picking that low-hanging fruit, now could they?
And at the end of the day, he had managed to get away through a mixture of luck and skill. If that wasn’t the Favonian way, he wasn’t sure what else was. ‘Scrappy’ the Millelith called them. A polite way to say ‘I have no clue how you all manage it but if it works, it works’, but politeness was the Liyuean way after all.
He staggered forward a few more steps, pain lancing up his side from the stab wound. He would say he’d been through worse, but the driving rain had chased civilians and adventurers alike away, so there was no one to lie to. So, yeah. This was pretty much the worst thing he’d experienced -- worse even than his fight with Diluc all those years ago. He could taste the blood, bitter in his mouth.
The roof of Dawn Winery crested over the cliff as he took halting steps forward, grimacing with the effort of moving when every stride felt like he was being stabbed anew. Finally, his body tired of trying and his legs gave out.
He fell, clipping something solid with his elbow. The pain of the fall was miles behind the pain that blossomed from his wound. He screamed out in agony, but his cries were lost to the howling wind. With wet grass pressing against his cheek and into his mouth, he was struck with the sudden realization that he may be dying. He couldn’t think, could barely see through the grayness encroaching his vision. The pain subsided into a cold numbness and yet he couldn’t move. He was almost grateful for the relief, but there was still so much to be said, so much to apologize for, without a dandelion to carry his words.
Blessed warmth pooled in his eyes and dribbled down his cheeks as he squinted to catch sight of his old home. The familiar red roof was barely visible through the pouring rain. He should just let go. No one was coming to save him, no one knew he was even outside Mondstadt City. And yet, the stubborn streak in him held on. He breathed shallowly, focusing on staying conscious. Klee would be so sad if he didn’t keep his promise to visit her tomorrow afternoon, and he had plans to assist Albedo in his lab that evening. And what would a day be without drinks with friends at night?
The gray was starting to fade to black when a pair of shoes walked into his vision. Something in his chest tugged -- was it hope? Not hope that he would be saved -- he was far past that. But hope that some of his regrets wouldn’t go unsaid.
He opened his mouth to speak, but a finger pressed against his lips. “Best to save your strength.” The voice was familiar, but everything felt heavy and dazed, he couldn’t quite place it. Yet he had to speak -- he had to apologize to Diluc, to Klee. He had to tell Albedo how amazing his alchemy and art really were, had to tell Venti that his songs were good, actually, he was just teasing, had to tell Rosaria how much their late night hangouts really meant to him, had to thank Barbara properly for her kindness to him and Jean for her level headedness-
It took him a moment to realize that he no longer felt the rain. His gaze focused on the face above him, and his tears started falling in earnest again.
He had never known a god could be so beautiful. Teal green eyes crinkled in a kind smile as pure white wings shielded them both from the elements. “Don’t worry,” even his voice was beautiful -- soft and melodic -- “it is not your time.”
Before he could even question if Barbatos was truly here or just a hallucination conjured by his dying brain, he was swallowed by a warm, inky blackness.
Venti pouted down at the non-alcoholic beverage Diluc slid in front of him. “Really?”
“I would be more inclined to let you drink to your heart’s content if it didn’t mean emptying a cask for you alone,” Diluc replied, unimpressed.
“I am more than willing to work for my share! A song for a glass. How’s that sound?”
“I’ll judge your reward on your performance.”
Venti sighed, “Ever the taskmaster. Very well, I’ll do-” His words were stopped by a tug somewhere in his gut. A flash of pain, of loneliness -- someone was seeking refuge under one of his statues. A familiar someone, and they were running out of time.
With nothing but a curt, “You need to go back home,” Venti strode purposefully out the back of the tavern and loosed himself into the wind. It was a peaceful moment of weightlessness and pure, bubbling freedom he wished he could savor, but it was over all too soon. He touched down mere feet from Kaeya’s shivering form.
The calvary captain’s spirit was ready to pass and yet his body struggled to hold on. The sight reminded Venti almost painfully of his friend’s final moments -- desperate for life, desperate to see the world he brought about. That time, he had not been strong enough to help. But now…
Venti crouched down beside him, pressing a hand to his lips to keep him from speaking. “Best save your strength.” Kaeya’s skin was clammy from a lack of blood and the elements. He unfurled his wings to form a barrier between them and the raging storm. The cavalry captain was crying now.
“Don’t worry,” Venti murmured with a small smile, “It is not your time.” The power of anemo coalesced in his hand, a gentle teal light that pushed the darkness away. He placed his hand against the injury -- a deep stab near the kidneys. Wonder of all wonders, it seemed to have missed the organ itself. He could not heal the blood loss but at the very least he could prevent any more and relieve some of the pain.
After a moment, he sat back on his heels, mostly content with his work. It was a patchwork job, but he was a patchwork archon so it was rather fitting, he thought. At the very least, Kaeya was no longer in danger of dying.
…immediately. There was still plenty of time for that to change. Thankfully, Dawn Winery was nearby. He didn’t even bother to hide his wings -- the late hour and nasty weather were more than enough to guarantee that any passers-by would merely catch a glimpse and forever question what they saw. His hands full with precious (albeit unwieldy) cargo, he flew to the door of the winery and awkwardly kicked at the sturdy wood in lieu of knocking. The head maid answered the door just as he finished tucking his wings away, annoyance screwing her face before she noticed Kaeya.
Immediately, she stepped back, waving Venti into the warmth and light of the Dawn Winery. “Hillie!” Adeline called, “Prepare Master Kaeya’s room. Mocco, bring Master Diluc’s after-work equipment.” After lighting the manor abuzz with activity, she turned to Venti. “Right this way.”
A maid with long brown hair glanced up as she finished stripping the bed of its elaborate duvet, leaving only crisp white sheets, upon which Venti laid Kaeya.
To their credit, the maids seemed to hardly be bothered by the blood and injuries. He should question what Diluc gets up to in his free time more. These poor girls were practically medical professionals the way they worked together easily to clean and bandage the wound.
“Leave them to it, they need to work more anyway,” Adeline led him down the hallway. “Despite your… previous excursions… to the winery, I cannot in good conscience turn you away.”
Venti bit back a grin. This woman was typically immune to his boyish charm, but she had a soft spot for her charges, former or no. Ever the dutiful one. She was certainly worthy of a vision were it up to him, but alas, Celestia’s rules were not as fickle as he.
“Before you eat, I must insist on providing you with dry clothes. If I may be so bold with a friend of Master Diluc, you look like a drowned rat.”
“Ah,” Venti replied, “I feel like one as well. Your generosity is appreciated.”
“Unfortunately, we don’t have many clothes that would fit you. Mocco’s the closest to your size but she’s slimmer in the shoulders, and has little besides skirts and blouses.”
“Far be it for me to make demands of you when you are being so kind,” Venti replied. “I will take whatever hospitality you offer me.”
In the end, he was gifted one of Diluc’s old shirts and one of Moco’s many skirts, ill-fitting as both may be. Truth be told, the getup clashed. Diluc’s shirt needed to be rolled several times to allow him the use of his hands and exposed more of his neck and chest than it was really meant to. It was a deep midnight that would no doubt complement fiery hair but offered him no such benefits. The color was just close enough to his own hair to draw comparison, but just different enough to be immediately discordant. To say nothing of how it clashed with the skirt. It was a pale pink thing that deserved to be paired with a pure white top. Perhaps a light gray -- something similarly light and dainty. Not a deep, forceful blue.
However, true to his word, he accepted the donation with profuse thanks. Adeline merely nodded and motioned to the food she had prepared. She even left him alone to launder his clothes -- a gesture of trust he dared not break after she was kind enough to leave him with an entire decanter of wine.
Nearly a half-hour later, Diluc barged through the front door, looking, as always, like a man on a warpath. He must have been told of Kaeya’s injuries, since he made a beeline for that room. He didn’t even seem to notice Venti there. Savoring what would likely be his last bit of Dawn Winery food for a while, he took a few more moments to sip down the last of the wine before following behind. He managed to catch the tail end of a conversation as he entered.
“-it more stable, but he’s still in bad shape. We sent word to the cathedral, but it will be hours yet before they can arrive, storm aside.”
The movement caught Diluc’s eye and he whirled to face Venti. “You- you found him. Is that why you left in a hurry?”
Venti nodded. “I was worried even I would be too late. But I arrived soon enough to help.”
Diluc’s gaze turned accusing, glancing from him to Kaeya. “You didn’t help more?”
Amusement bubbled in his chest, as irreverent as the emotion may be. “Given the present company, no.” He spared a glance to the nurses fussing over the Cavalry Captain. Diluc caught his glance and nodded.
“Hillie, Moco, you’ve done enough. Thank you for caring for him. I will handle matters from here.”
The maids looked like they wanted to say something, but turned to each other and shrugged. Soon, Venti and Diluc were left alone with only Kaeya’s labored breathing to break the silence.
“So,” the redhead started. “What can you do?”
Venti laughed. “The question, Master Diluc, is what can’t I do?” He offered a coy grin, “Don’t the old ballads tell of how Barbatos brought low the mountains of Mondstadt because they offended him? I am quite certain I’ve sung that very tale at your bar more than once.”
Diluc raised an eyebrow. “And you can’t completely heal him? Seems you’ve lost your touch.”
The bard opened his mouth in mock hurt. “Why Diluc, has it truly taken you this long to realize? In any case, closing wounds and repairing the damaged is child’s play.” He held up his hand before Diluc could interrupt. “But the mortal form can only take so much of the divine before, well… let’s just say more than Kaeya’s eye would be burned were I to have continued.”
It seemed he struck a nerve there, as the air in the room grew hotter and Diluc’s jaw set. But just as quickly, the redhead let out a breath and the temperature returned to normal. “Is there anything more you can do? Please .” Diluc’s voice cracked, and so too did Venti’s heart. How could he claim to be an archon of the people if he did not assist them in their hour of need? He moved to sit on the bed, placing a hand on Kaeya’s chest.
“I can try again.” Was his eventual reply. “Those who bear visions are more… receptive to the divine, given the whole intention of the damn things.”
Diluc furrowed his brow. “The whole… intention?”
Ah, shit… He waved the thought away like a stray crystalfly. “Forget I said anything, it’s not important. Let me see what I can do.” He heaved a sigh, “It will likely take much of my power and concentration to keep from vaporizing him while I’m trying to help him. Make sure I’m not disturbed.”
He wouldn’t call himself a powerful god. Centuries of distance from Mondstadt had seen to that. Still, he felt somewhat like he was trying to reign in a bucking horse one-handed the way he was forced to hold back most of his power. It wanted to surge forth, to fill what was empty. But too much and he was pretty sure Dawn Winery would need more than a new bed.
It was tough to keep the drip-feed of divinity slow and consistent, and a strange sort of pain -- hot and cold all at once, with a strange derealization that nearly made him lose concentration. He blinked back the feeling, but exhaustion tugged at his limbs, nagged at his focus. Best to nip the issue in the bud then.
He closed off the connection, taking a stuttering breath at the influx of sights and sounds that needled his vision. He didn’t even have the strength to remain upright -- air whistled through his hair as he pitched forward into empty air.
A strong arm managed to snag him before he hit the ground, and someone spoke, though the words were distant. A strange distant feeling enveloped his mind like he was outside his body. It would be chilling were he not so tired -- he was losing his grip on his human form.
He could only hope the arms lifting him so gently were Diluc’s. “I’ll…be fine…” he murmured before the tension and pain released like a bubble popping and he fell into a deep sleep.
The afterlife sure was strange, Kaeya thought. He was staring blearily up at the ceiling of his childhood bedroom. The smell of Adeline’s famous Sticky Pot Roast filled the room. The bed he was laying in was comfortable. All signs he had passed onto a better place. Or at least as good of a place as someone like him could get to.
But the pain… The tangy aftertaste of blood in the back of his mouth and an ache that seemed to reach his eyeballs, though he wasn’t quite sure how something like that was possible. Despite that, he felt fuzzy -- like every sensation was distant, not happening to him.
“-’ll take that as a no, then,” A familiar voice hummed from a spot to his left.
Through a monumental effort, he turned his head to the side with a soft, “hm?”
Diluc sat in a padded chair, arms and legs crossed and face pinched like he was trying to keep something in. At Kaeya’s movements, he uncrossed everything and leaned forward. “You are awake. About time.” He spoke lightly, but there was a tremble in his voice, and Kaeya didn’t miss the way his brother’s eyes tracked over his face and body.
“Against my will, I might add,” His voice was scratchy and just the movement of his jaw sent stabbing pains through his skull. “Judging by the pain, I’m still alive. Unfortunate.” He grinned, wincing as his dry lips cracked.
Diluc’s jaw clenched. “Yes, Venti found you and brought you here. He managed to stabilize you for now. The Deaconess has also made two trips to ensure your recovery.” He crossed his arms. “A lot of people were hoping you would make it.”
“I see,” A coughing fit interrupted his next words. It felt like the knife was stabbing into him anew, he tasted blood again, and he couldn’t catch his breath.
Immediately, Diluc swooped next to him, sitting him up dizzyingly quickly. He had to blink back the haze to keep from passing out again. “Careful, you’re still recovering,” His brother said, adjusting the pillows so he could recline. “I will ask Adelinde to make soup for you, but for now you need to get some water.”
His brother set him back against the pillows before grabbing a metal teacup from a nearby dresser.
“What is that thing?” Kaeya couldn’t help but ask. A strange whitish blob was laying on top of what looked like a decorative pillow on top of the dresser. He would have assumed it was merely some fabric, but it was definitely breathing . It almost looked like the teacup had been placed for whatever that thing was and Diluc was merely taking it for him instead.
Shrugging, his brother just held the teacup to his lips. “Just a wind sprite that got tired. For some reason, it decided to stay.”
The explanation was more mystifying than just dodging the question entirely. Wind sprites were terribly uncommon, and those who had claimed to see one only caught glimpses out of the corner of their eyes. And what could even tire one out? The wind needed no rest.
But Diluc was all but forcing the water down his throat, marking the matter as closed and Kaeya had neither the strength nor the voice to press the issue. “I’ll have Adelinde bring food in later,” he placed the teacup back by the sleeping wind sprite, “If there’s anything else you need, just let me know.”
A loud crash from beside him woke Kaeya in the middle of the night. Without even thinking, he jolted in an upright position, wincing against the pain as he braced himself on one arm. He could only stare at the source of the sound in a mixture of disbelief and confusion.
Diluc thundered in seconds later, claymore trailing behind him and fire flickering in his palms. He stopped short at the sight of a passed-out Venti crumpled at the foot of the dresser, a decorative pillow trapped under his back and a teacup of wine spilled on the ground.
Kaeya glanced over to his brother, willing him to explain. “Just a tired wind sprite?”
The redhead merely sighed, scooping the still-sleeping bard in his arms and leaving for the guest room. That left Kaeya with enough time to mull over the implications.
It was a common myth that Barbatos started his life as a mere wisp of wind, gaining power from the belief of those from Old Mondstadt. That he took on human form to understand his people better than the wolves that prowled the frozen wastes. If that was the case… If Venti was a wind spirit and Barbatos was a wind spirit and Venti was the one who rescued him and he saw Barbatos in his delirium…
Diluc re-entered the room, Venti-less and claymore-less, to place the decorative pillow back on the dresser and clean up the spilled wine. How could he act so casual after finding out that the boy getting wasted off his ass every week at the tavern was… Barbatos?
Kaeya couldn’t hold back a disbelieving laugh. “You’re shitting me. Venti- he’s…”
“Trust me, I’m well aware… unfortunately.”
A sudden thought struck him, unease churning his stomach. “Does he know… He-”
Diluc shrugged. “I’m beginning to think there’s precious little he doesn’t know. Perhaps that’s why he drinks so much.”
Kaeya hadn’t thought about that. “So you think he knows, and he still saved me?”
“He left before he could even get wine.”
Kaeya whistled, low and impressed. “So I’ve managed to rank above wine in his estimations.” It was a funny feeling. He had always had a complicated relationship with the religion of Mondstadt. He was under no illusions that the archons would have mercy on him. After all, he had long suspected his father left him in Mondstadt specifically because Barbatos was so distant from ruling his land. As a city of travelers, it wasn’t unusual to not give thanks to Barbatos for the west wind that blew during harvest season, to toast to good times and better friends rather than a sleeping god. After all, Barbatos was part of the reason his homeland had been destroyed -- he was an arbiter of Celestia.
But Venti… why, he may even go so far as to count Venti among his friends. Certainly not a close friend, but one he’s spilled his guts out to in a drunken stupor, cried over an empty bottle with, even flirted with at one point. No wonder Venti had inevitably turned him down… He was uncertain how to fit those puzzle pieces into the picture he’d made of Barbatos in his mind.
“You were in really bad shape. Had he not gotten there…” Diluc trailed off, then cleared his throat. “You should go back to bed. I’m sure he can answer any questions after a good night’s sleep.”
He woke the next morning to a vaguely familiar melody. He caught fleeting memories, trying to hold onto them so they would form more coherent thoughts, but they slipped between his fingers like grains of sand.
With some effort, he managed to peel his eyelids back. Despite Diluc’s well wishes, he had not had a good night’s sleep, preoccupied as he was by the mystery that was Venti.
“Awake, I see!” The music stopped playing as the bard leaned forward in his chair. “How are you feeling?”
Kaeya blinked. Now that he looked -- really looked -- it was laughable that he had thought Venti’s style was some sort of elaborate performance art of historical recreation. “What’s that song?”
Venti blinked, then smiled. “It’s a very, very old folk song. I figured you’d recognize it.”
All at once, Kaeya’s mouth felt very, very dry. “So… so you know, then.”
“You may have to be a little more specific.”
Was this bastard really going to make him come out and say it? “About where I’m from.”
Venti laughed. “Oh, of course I do. It’s rather obvious. At least, to someone who knows what Khaenri’ans look like.”
He wasn’t sure if he should be insulted. It was said so innocently, but it still felt like a backhanded compliment. “And do you know what I’m here to do?”
"I don't.” Venti’s side eye suddenly looked sharp enough to kill. “Do you?" He paused, waiting for Kaeya’s response, though none came. "You're the only one who can decide what you do, Kaeya. Not your heritage, not even the gods." His gaze softened and he placed a hand over Kaeya's. "But no matter your choice, if you will have it, Mondstadt shall be your home. All are welcome here. I have always meant that and always will.”
There was an authority to those words, a soft wisdom. All at once, Kaeya could see Barbatos within his Venti disguise, and he bit down on his welling-up emotions -- fear, sadness, anger, gratitude.The archon was practically drawing these feelings out of him with those kind eyes and that gentle smile and the slow movement of calloused fingertips over his skin.
Before Kaeya could even come up with a coherent response, Venti pulled back, clapping his hands together excitedly. “Anyway, Miss Adelinde said that once you woke up, she would make a delicious breakfast for all of us!” He grinned.
And there was the boyish enthusiasm he had come to expect from the bard. The puzzle pieces were still out of place, but he was starting to figure out how everything fit together.