Venti: No Darkness in the Wind
The bard known as Venti went by a lot of different names and titles over his lifetime and it had seemed even more were on the verizon, he had been n elemental, a spirit, a friend, watched kingdoms rise and fall, revolutions succeed and fail, but there was something that always bothered him no matter how far he ran or drank or sang.
He was alone.
Some would argue that he had friends, and that was true, and some would even say there were confidants in other members of the seven remaining, and that was correct as well, and those in the know could even argue the dragon Stormwind had been a clear ally despite the turbulent times as of late.
Except they all saw different pieces of him, the seven saw the joking god of freedom, the people of his city saw the drunken bard, and the dragon saw the boy who had been his friend and died. All in all, it made him feel like a sham at his lowest. He would sit on the hands of the statue of the form he took and wonder how it got to be that he who could find friends supposedly with anyone at the bar could be alone.
When you were so segmented though it was very easy, Venti found. It was part of that loneliness that made him give his Gnosis, the collection of his godly capabilities, and while he still was, he was really a powered up adeptus in his current state. One could drink himself to oblivion and back until the room and begin to spin and the songs began to flow, but he was absolutely lost and alone in a land supposedly his but with no one knowing.
Barbara had been his biggest fan worshiping him, but did not see him for who he was and for some ringing suspicion it wasn't clear if Rosaria knew his real identity, and was just disrespectful or did not care for the church as much as the other sisters, he wish he knew which, it would make him feel better.
All he could do right now is just try not the shadow of the wind cut through him. It was something only those who knew of the balance of forces over the years that the wind could be kind, but it definitely had a cruel edge to it. Winds would help the friend and cut through the foe making one wish that the chill brought with it would end them in a more peaceful matter.
That would be something he could deal with later as for right now the previous god of freedom was currently alone with nothing but his thoughts and memories and those were dangerous for him he found. Maybe he could go and pick some cider or dandelion wine from Dawn Winery. Being sober in his mind was much worse to drinking, the alcohol came with some relief in such dark frames of mind, and while he would not say that as a good idea for everyone else.
It wasn't with everyone else that was having the problem currently, it was Venti.
His vision changed to the lyre he was using, the other one currently stuck in the church, unwilling to give it back to him, the original owner, but hey, when dealing with generations of people it was something he understood, after all. Strumming the strings the notes met the air, but the songs never came, and after what felt like so many tried he had to put it back and just pull his knees up aware that even his muse was gone.
Moments such as this he hated more then anything for it was not because of what he did or the moments of his life where he wished he could save someone or get another chance, it was those where he made moves he knew had to be made, but was no sign to like them one bit. Actions that could poison someones entire outlook if they had met the knowledge of the general public, and it wasn't like he had been some rogue. Every single of the seven had such things and some would continue to do so with a smile saying it was for the good of their people knowing full well it was not.
Even adeptus had to deal with the shadows of the mind, and so did the seven, Ei was a great example and even then it took her years to get her head on straight enough to deal with her people in person. While nothing really could be taken from what was known and put to her level as a litmus there had been may moments where he wished would never see the light of day and from hearing how the traveler asked some questions of Morax, questions he did not want to answer the traveler. It may be time coming for him to face the sins of his own past. While Morax was the god of contracts, and had a reason to not say anything it would be realized soon that he as the god of freedom did not. He could break contracts and would do so easily sometimes to tweak someone's nose.
The traveler had been one of the best things in recent memory and it would sting to see the doubt in the eyes after being an ally as long as he had. In godhood, years were moments but for the humans it was something so fleeting like the wind and he did not want to poison a specific wind with bad memories, there were enough of those blowing as it were, from where he was sitting.
He had to go from the city, from the statue, there was only one place where he could go to shake the shadows from his mind, and he needed it now more then ever. Pulling himself up from his seat in the hands of his statue he began to float down to the bricks and walk the familiar path outside the castle walls and to the large tree that Vannessa once stood.
It reached towards the heavens, rain or shine, night or day and right now he could hope it had something from the heavens coming back to him, finding a nice place to rest his head against one of the roots he strummed a ditty. For a moment the notes hit the air and he could feel the shadows melting away, there were going to be questions that needed answers and he could not run away from it forever.
All he could hope laying between the roots is that he had the strength to answer them honestly and that the friendships he had made were strong enough to survive what was coming. Because there was something coming and it was not going to be anything good for any of the lands. It was a bit of a public secret by some trying to make sure the peoples and groups do not panic or do anything that may make their situations worse. He could wonder how the people would react if the history of the downfall of the kingdom so many centuries ago. Would those who would love what his kingdom meant, what the land of freedom meant, give it up if it was built on blood or something that would shock them.
The answer was something he could not determine, because he was not in the position to divine it and those who could would not understand the question what was being asked. It was something that could not be understood, how did the world happily deal the question and answers to the different groups unable to meet in the middle and use what the other had learned.
Power often led those to hoard and that was something of all groups: god, adeptus, and man. All he could wish is for a single moment people would give happily and try to dispel the darkness within others, but that would be rough, and when hurt it seemed to be reflex to retreat inward. Sitting in what light showers were coming from what clouds that decided to gather gave him a little more comfort, as he had loved the rain.
Rain could fall on a battlefield and there would be a dark beauty brought out in it. Something where it told him as he strummed to enjoy what he can from what he could find now for it would pass as easily as the morning breeze.
From the coast the sun had begun to paint the sky warm hues of the day while the smell of the rain was rich on the grass painted the breezes and gusts that seem to be carrying with warm notes of sea and air. Shadows were to be gone for another day and as the notes ended and faded back to the ether and the shadows were gone for the time being he had brushed himself off for another day had come and there were many things to do.
One of the first things though he had to get himself a drink because shadows hated alcohol in his mind and there was very little stopping him from dispelling with a nice glass of dandelion wine or possible apple cider. Both were good around this time of year and he would not be one to forgo one over the other. Walking back where little slimes were bouncing around, happy about the rains that just fell and the hilichurl that were less then amused for their own Pyro work. All in all it was something of a rough night but he had hopes and he could only do what he could, powers or not, and asking for anything more then that even in his position would not help anybody with anything.
Mondstadt was the land of freedom and there were no kings, no gods, and no powers that controlled the rest and while that may change, as freedom like many things in his land were fleeting all he could hope is that when the time came and his own mettle had to be tested that he could act in a manner that the shadows would have little need of him afterwards, and hopefully make his friend who could not be there to see it all.
Part of him also hoped there would not be anyone joining him until his business was done. Despite being so lost at times he wished and hoped and wanted just people to lie life and be happy, it was the reason he had taken the form he did, why he did the things he did, and while behind the winds there would always be the shadow cutting into his heart, as the god of the wind it was his job to make sure Gnosis or not that he would stand when no one else could.
His lands were still his, and while some were currently trying to gather power for a cracked scheme it would be the execution of it that would cost the planners everything, and as the dirt path turned to brick and the archway of the city entrance greeted him a fire of possibility came because even without that godly power there was still enough to train and get stronger. There was no chance of losing this time if he kept finding new ways to bolster his attacks, and being part of the traveler's team with the challenges approaching he could prove himself of any doubt that may come. All the deep thinking had made him hum a tune and from the back of his mind the words began to fall into place.
'Shadows of the wind, that drive towards me, let me dispel with a blessing cast from thee. Let the breeze come soft and the gale come fast and hope that all falls who stand in my path.
Winds may come and winds may go, but the fact is we all must know. When winds come blowing and forces come stout, no attack can make entry, no believer casts doubt.'
It was something that needed work he figured but as good a start as always.
