Act 1, Scene 9

11th of the 12th Cycle

It took them five days to reach the town of Springvale.

It was clear the people there were not used to seeing such a large group of visitors. Or perhaps, Aether thinks, that they are simply nervous about the fact that there were suddenly 1,500 knights on their doorstep.

While Springvale was located within the larger region under the rule of the Anemo God, they weren't actually under the jurisdiction of Mondstadt itself. They had their own local government, the Katzlein Clan, and their own local military as well.

He could see Grand Master Gunnhildr at the head of the column speaking animatedly with the Katzlein patriarch, informing him that the knights were simply passing by.

After some heated negotiations, Springvale allowed the knights to stay for the night, on terms that they were not going to provide lodgings. The knights were fine with that, and a camp was swiftly erected, many of them eager for sleep.

The next day, they left at first light. They would be taking the southern route, travelling in the shadow of Dragonspine. The next waypoint is a town administered by the Ragvindr Clan, locally known as Dawnton.

18th of the 12th Cycle

Aether could smell the town before he saw it, the western winds bringing the scent of wine all the way over. Dawnton was home to the Ragvindr owned Dawn Winery, which held a near monopoly over the region's wine industry, this made the Ragvindrs the richest clan in Mondstadt.

They were much more welcoming than Springvale to say the least, greeting the knights with full caskets of wine.

They partied that night. A few knights pitied his sad, lonely, and bound form on the prison wagon, and sneaked him some of their dandelion wine. He would remember their kindness.

Act 1, Scene 10

31st of the 12th Cycle

The most difficult leg of their journey was traversing the Windwail Canyon. Stories tell of Barbatos leading his followers out of Old Mondstadt by cleaving a path through the Windwail Highlands that lay south of the city, and the Canyon was what remained.

Each step was an arduous task, and a single blunder can halt the entire expedition in their tracks. The reason for this was that the Canyon acted as the perfect wind tunnel for the gale winds blowing out of the ruined city.

And the source of the gales? The Storm Walls of Decarabian. It was an enormous whirling dome that covered the entire city, so large in scale that on clear days it could be seen from the highest towers of Mondstadt, a sennight and a half away on foot.

The Storm Walls were destroyed after Decarabian was slain, but 500 years ago it was revived by the Dragon of the East, to protect its new lair.

Aether, still sitting bound in the prison cart, looked at the wagons trailing behind his. The wing was too large to be carried by one wagon, see, so engineers had nailed twelve of them together in a four by three manner. The 'super wagon' was pulled by sixteen horses.

To the untrained eye, nothing seemed amiss about the wing, but Aether could tell easily. The wing had lost its lustre, no longer was it a vibrant blue. It looked, for the lack of a better word, dry. It had long been drained of Anemo by the Knights' magi corps.

Soon enough, they approached the end of the Canyon, and he must say, the winds here were no gales but cyclones. The soil and vegetation had long since been blown away, and the winds had eroded the stone beneath the dirt to smoothness. The knights had prepared for this, however, and wore heavy iron weights and crouched to lower the centre of gravity.

Eight more horses were tethered to the 'super wagon' for a total of two dozen, and were urged to the front of the column, where magi were waiting.

Immediately, the magi started their ritual. They began siphoning Anemo out of the Walls and into the wing, a simple yet ingenious solution. But the ritual wasn't perfect, they had less than a fortnight to come up with it, so it was still inefficient.

It took four hours for the winds to drop to a manageable level, but by then the wing was already bursting at its seams. It had been completely saturated with Anemo, and no more could be siphoned into it.

No matter, they had prepared for this too. Twelve vision holders stepped forward, all of them had Anemo visions, and their number included the Acting Grand Master and Albedo's personal assistant.

Together, they thrusted forward, and the Walls split in two, leaving a corridor devoid of wind in the middle.

Gritting her teeth, the Grand Master screamed,

"All of you! GO, GO, GO!"

They didn't need to be told twice. The knights surged forward like a wave, if the vision holders faltered before all of them went through, to say that anyone trapped would meet a gruesome death would be a severe understatement.

Thankfully, no one fell victim to that fate.

Aether looked up, and gaped.

The city must've been over twice the size of Mondstadt. It sat in a depression, surrounded on all sides by the Brightcrown Mountains. In the eye of the storm, he could see the ruins of mansions and towers now inhabited by nothing but ghosts.

And in the centre of it all, Decarabian's Tower. It must be at least… well, he didn't know, he could hardly fathom its height. It soared into the sky, even past the Storm Wall. He angled his head as high as he could and yet he still couldn't see its top. This was in part due to the constant storm that obscured its higher levels, he could see lightning flashing in the clouds.

Aether was standing before the once beating heart of an ancient kingdom, and felt like an ant. It was easy to believe that the Tower was the work of a god.

"But it wasn't," Paimon spoke in his head.

"It was Man that built the Tower," this time, Paimon spoke, and heads swivelled to the source. Him.

Aether raised his hands in surrender, 'It isn't me' he mouthed. He could see a flash of understanding passing through the knights who knew of Paimon.

She continued, unperturbed, "Man wanted to prove that they didn't need to be gods to reach the heavens, and Celestia feared them for it."

"So they sent a Wind God and a Boreal God to crush them, their names were Decarabian and Andrius."

"Except, Decarabian admired the ambitions of Man, and instead of killing them all as he was ordered, he raised the Storm Walls to protect them, and declared war against Celestia. The Wolf of the North Wind warred with him for a hundred years for it."

Everyone was quiet now, no one dared to interrupt her, all listened in rapt attention.

"But his Kingdom was built on a misunderstanding. Humans thought he was imprisoning them, Decarabian thought he was protecting them. All it took was a weakening of the Storm Walls as Andrius laid his wrath on it, and a falcon soared into the city. That was all that was needed for rebellion."

"They would not have succeeded if not for a traitorous wind spirit who betrayed Decarabian and joined the humans, he told them of the Decarabian's weaknesses and faults, and they climbed the Tower together. Its name was Barbatos."

Someone swallowed heavily, Aether couldn't tell who.

"Songs tell of how Barbatos, now a god, led the humans out of the city and built a new Mondstadt, one where freedom reigns. What the songs don't tell you was that over a million souls followed Barbatos out of the city, and only a tenth of that number remained when the walls of Mondstadt were raised."

The implications were clear, he could see it in everyone's eyes. Celestia never forgot who built the Tower.

Paimon's haunting laughter echoed in the air. "Some lowly humans and a pathetic wind spirit murdered the mighty God of Storms. Yet Celestia, for all the power they wield, couldn't slay a newborn god despite massacring his followers."

The knights were shaking now, whether in rage or fear he could not tell. The Grand Master was sweating bullets, Captain Alberich's face was devoid of emotion, Captain Lawrence sported a thoughtful look. Lisa and her magi were furiously scribbling into their notebooks, fire in their eyes.

Paimon finished her long spiel with a question.

"Tell me," she spoke, "do you know how to kill a god?"