The Weakest

First there was the flow of wind, an elemental that wandered in the woods outside the city and tickled the branches of the trees. He had a consciousness, a soul barely perceptible to the eye, transparent as a clear pond. There were residents bowed down by a violent gust of wind that the king sent to protect them, but the wind did not save them. The king believed that bowed heads meant immeasurable respect, but it was fear and their inability to get up from their knees. Then there was an explosion that destroyed the entire city, and an elemental that absorbed this wave and rebelled in the guise of a young bard. The residents of the city did not understand what they felt after the death of the king, a sense of loss or liberation? They could finally be free, but an endless ravine appeared in place of the city, and monsters settled in its darkness.

*

“One more serving of cider, please!” Venti exclaimed, raising a large bowl above his head. There were a lot of people in the tavern, but Venti, too keen on filling his stomach, did not look around, so nothing bothered him at all, even the disgruntled look of the tavern owner, who asked him not to get so drunk. He, by the way, stood at the counter and watched each guest with a tenacious look, crossing his hands with gloves on his chest. “Haha, bard, you don’t miss a bowl today,” someone shouted behind Venti’s back and patted him approvingly on the shoulder. He rarely received flattering reviews. Venti`s beret slid off the top of his head, and the feather dropped, as if sad, but Venti was more fun. He wandered here quite by accident, fleeing from an angry boar, which he stumbled upon in the forest. The first purpose of the outing was to collect flowers for Flora, but in the process of collecting, the bard encountered a family of wild boars. If anyone saw him running away from an angry animal, throwing arrows behind his back, he would definitely roll with laughter. He lost the flowers, but found something more interesting — a tavern, in which, as it turned out, the owner was his good friend. “Aren’t you too young to drink like that?” The man who cast a shadow on the bard’s table placed his hands on his sides. Turning around, Venti laughed. “Oh, you’re not quite right, but thanks.” However, Venti was not surprised by this question, because he really looked too young for such entertainment. A very youthful face, small in stature, he looked no older than sixteen. The man frowned and, looking at him with a disgruntled look, took another seat. As far as Venti knew it, he was a hunter who constantly disappeared into the woods and rarely appeared in the city. The smell of burning and new rumors came to the tavern with this man, and the bard, despite drinking several cups of cider, began to listen more carefully. “Someone from the higher… Celestia… Only three strokes and the heart of the city…” Hearing the name of the residence of the Gods, Venti could not resist asking: “What are you talking about, gentlemen?” The hunter again looked at him with an angry look, but shared. “The Fatui Harbingers are plotting something in the Valley of Starfalls,” the hunter said with displeasure, rubbing his stubble and looking somewhere to the side. Venti saw that the man kept silent about something important. “These slobs are always up to something,” Venti deliberately waved his hand carelessly, already about to turn away. This gesture angered the man even more. “This time someone bigger came into the game,” he tried to scare the bard, but Venti didn’t care. “The largest one is the one with the big belly. I’ve met him, so clumsy, but he can cause problems,” said Venti reproachfully, banging on his open palm with his fist. He remembered how that same Fatui rushed at him when Venti just stole a couple of apples from their camp. Fatui Harbingers was called an organization of monsters, the sole purpose of which was to avenge the long-destroyed state through the death of all life in the world. “Let’s see how you speak when the kingdom falls and Barbatos is overthrown,” someone else stepped in the conversation. “Is this a threat?” the bard raised his eyebrows. “What…” Venti noticed the worried look that the stranger threw at the hunter. “Will his followers allow them to denigrate his fame, much less stage an assassination attempt?” Venti pressed with an absolutely harmless look. “You don’t know anything, bard,” the hunter snapped, slamming his fist on the table. Something told Venti that the hunter himself did not understand anything, because it was no secret to anyone that Barbatos, the God of the wind, left their kingdom hundreds of years ago, after he freed the people. Now there were six statues erected in his honor in the kingdom, but Barbatos himself disappeared, and no one knows where to look for him, what he does and whether he exists at all. “I won’t waste my time on a simple tramp.” “Well, good luck finding him!” Venti said one last time and raised the cup to his lips. The door of the tavern swung open, revealing an impressive silhouette. It was not possible to distinguish the person, because someone pulled Venti by the scruff of the neck. “Friend, you’re in the thick of things as always,” uttered a voice behind the ear. It took Venti a second to recognize him as the captain of the cavalry, Kaeya Alberich. Everything would be fine, but at the same time, Venti flew off his chair, dropping the cup of cider from his hands, although he clung to it with the last of his strength. Being hidden behind the cavalry captain’s back, he saw little, but by the sounds he determined that criminal cases were being solved. “Leave the tavern immediately and follow the guards,” the captain said, becoming stricter. A recently arrived hunter and several other people were taken outside. “Care to explain what you’re doing?” the tavern owner demanded, after most of the chairs were empty. “Oh, Master Diluc,” the captain began in a melodious voice instead of explaining, “I think you knew even earlier than I did what was going on, because it was thanks to your help that we moved so far.” It all came together for Venti: this tavern was not familiar to him, but the owner was his friend, and by coincidence, it turned out that he had built something like a tavern to lure criminals. His real tavern impressed with its size and exquisite decoration. “On the way here I saw a bunch of flowers, have you seen monsters nearby?” asked Kaeya. “Ah, that’s mine,” Venti admitted embarrassedly. He was quick to change the subject “Are you two working together now?” “Impossible,” Diluc cut off, pulling on his glove. Kaeya cast a fleeting glance at the named brother. “I just studied this area. A couple of days ago, the headquarters received papers about the purchase of land in the vicinity of Starfall lake. It looks like a common thing, but two magicians were caught there trying to set fire to it.” “To do something like that right in front of the statue of Barbatos…” Venti was theatrically horrified. “This is not the first case. One statue was stolen, the second was close to destruction, each of the statues was found by a number. We can’t let them get close to the main statue. If we assume that the enemies are moving from the south, then the next one will be…” “I suppose this is not the best place to discuss confidential information,” Diluc interrupted him. Kaeya picked up on this remark. “Yes, you are right. However, the case requires immediate intervention.” “Everything there is probably burning now,” Venti said thoughtfully with a faint smile on his lips. “Sorry?” the cavalry captain warned. “Never mind,” the bard waved away the answer, “The early bird gets the worm!” Puzzled glances followed him to the dilapidated door. “Where are you going? We haven’t even decided yet…” Kaeya tried to stop him. “The best song of the bard is born when he improvises,” with a wink of his eye, Venti disappeared in an instant. Left in awkward silence, Kaeya stared at the door through which Venti had disappeared. Turning to Diluc was akin to suicide in the most shameful way, because he felt guilty in front of him. Fortunately, Diluc was the first to break the silence. “He’ll do everything right.” “But even he needs an ally,” Kaeya said with a hint, looking at his ‘brother’ point-blank.

*

Lonely aimless walks in the woods intoxicated Venti more than cider in a tavern. It cannot be said that he was not a fan of making noise and laughing in the company of strangers, but after a noisy celebration he could disappear for months. Then he lived a different life in company of nature, and it, as his close friend, communicated with him in the language of the winds. However, as it always happens, each interlocutor will get bored if you talk about the same thing with him. Thoughts left his head as he looked up. A column of smoke stretched from behind the hill, and, if Venti’s heart hadn’t been stolen, it would have definitely sank. A quick gust of wind hurried Venti and he reached the Valley of the Winds in a few minutes. The mighty oak tree planted by the Great Conqueror Venessa many centuries ago, which served as a support for all the inhabitants of the moon city, struck with its greatness and was a point of contact with the soul of the Wind God, was burned. Flames touched the sky black from the smoke, the glare of fire played in the stream, and frightened beasts and monsters ran away not seeing the road. In all this turmoil, Venti moved mesmerized towards this flame, as if about to merge with it. This is what the war he participated in looked like, this is how the air smelled when he realized his first loss, this is how nature sounded when he was born. It howled piteously from the cruelty of human actions, tried to heal itself with the power of God, but the flame was faster, more grasping. An animal scream brought him to his senses. Even the monsters were fleeing from the monstrous flame, and turning his head, Venti saw the horror in the eyes of the hairy animal, which did not have time to leave the former house. Now his element was more useless than ever, and he again felt like a helpless young man, whose main weapon is the lyre. Events flashed before his eyes, the bloody body of his first friend, the dusty lyre in his weakened hands, the light that blinded him, and the only thing that happened to be nearby. Lyre. He remembered the bow and arrows that he charged with wind energy. To save the ancient oak, it would have had enough of its former strength. It would move the skies, carry the clouds, attract snow and water from all over the continent. Venti experienced something similar to confusion when he realized that he had no plan. “It’s okay. Get your head up,” he smirked, trying to encourage himself. He closed his eyes to concentrate and reached out his hand to the right — there was a thin stream going out to sea. One sharp splash hit the burnt tree trunk. A lyre appeared in his hands, and he began to play a captivating song, surprisingly restrained for the anxious situation around. Like a captive snake, a water head poked out of the stream with wavy movements. It grew in size as it appeared, and when Venti opened his azure eyes, in which tension barely showed, the water serpent towered over him with dangerous liveliness. “Do your duty, marvelous monster.” As soon as Venti took his fingers off the lyre, the water fell in a shapeless curtain on the oak. The young bard’s fingers trembled, but a carefree smile remained on his face. The fire has not gone out. When he realized he didn’t have the strength to use the lyre again, he went back to the first, but more exhausting idea. Create water whips. Sliding blows flew along the edge of the fire from the side, towards the hearth of the fire. Venti had to move a lot, his clothes were soaked with water and soot, his hair was disheveled, and the azure ends of the short braids that framed his face faded. When he looked at the statue behind the tree, something sadly responded inside: one side of the Barbados statue was already covered with a dark coating, and over it was written: “Three. Celestia has found you.” The piercing whistle of an arrow, which he narrowly avoided, was heard from behind. Another one flew into the oak, and Venti began to distinguish a monstrous rumble from the darkness of the forest. A crowd of monsters was coming right here. Waving away the arrows with gusts of wind, he lost sight of the furry monster that threw a dagger in his direction. There was no way out — the tree could not be saved. Instantly, his eyes lit up with light, the air was knocked out of his lungs, there was nothing to breathe, smoke spread everywhere, staining his clothes in a dark color. His braids lightened along with his eyes, the wind lifted the leaves from the ground, and the world turned upside down before his eyes. The balloon surrounded the bard, who rose above the ground, sweeping away monsters from the tree and hellfire. Venti had no more strength, another minute and he would have crumbled to dust, but he was knocked down by a fireball of a furry monster, and he collapsed to the ground, hissing in pain. It remained to run. Getting tangled in the legs and grass, he ran. It was as if a terrible voice was coming from the heavens: “There will be only darkness and demonic creatures on your way. Your soul will be cursed and only the most cruel creature will free it.” The trees seemed to part to show him the way, shouts and chatter came from behind, arrows flew randomly in his direction. “Only darkness! Only darkness!” the monsters echoed, distorting the words. Nothing could be seen, and, jumping into the darkness, Venti closed his eyes. Screams rang past. He fell into the bushes, where no one could see him. The wounds burned, the lungs burned, and for some reason the cheeks burned — it was because of the tears flowing down them. One thing was clear — they were trying to get rid of him.

*

Unlike most of the other Gods ruling the neighboring kingdoms, Barbatos has long since left the moon city. He returned only once, when the city was captured by tyrants, and his people were oppressed. No one knew in what form their savior returned: whether he was a rich nobleman or a poor merchant, old or young, handsome or ugly. One thing was clear — the next dawn came without threatening danger. An oak tree planted by him hundreds of years ago served as a support for the people during his absence, a reminder that any faith will lead to something good, and he himself went to wander the lands of the world. Celestia was higher than the Gods, more inaccessible, more arrogant. The Gods established a connection with it through their hearts, until one of them wanted to rebel against the heavenly residence, stealing the hearts of all seven Gods. Barbatos was the first to have his heart stolen, and he did not object, since the connection with Celestia was unpleasant to him. Now that the oak tree has been burned, there is not even a natural force left in the city that connected the inhabitants with God. The people were seized with panic and despair, experienced astrologers were talking about the omen of something bad, and officers were investigating. It was a restless time in the city, and it was no longer safe to wander quietly through the forest. The fauna no longer seemed so fabulous, the sky was boring with its dim light, the sun was hidden somewhere behind the clouds, and the Valley of the Winds became a black spot on the map of the kingdom. With a wound on his side, Venti crossed a third of the kingdom to leave it. He knew that he was no longer needed in this city. To be even a little useful, he had to regain his power, his former name. Having overtaken the border of the moon city, he raised his eyes to the firmament. Far ahead was the Wangsheng trading house, and Venti knew the guardian well, but the guardian did not know him, only heard him playing his lyre, which sounds were brought by the wind. “Do you sell apples?” Venti asked, stopping at the first stall he found with the inscription ‘Everything you need and even more! ` Did Venti guess that all he needed was peace. He somehow hid the wounds, put his clothes in order and pulled a familiar smile on his face. “No, why do you need apples? If this is the most necessary thing for you, then I don’t even know what to say.” “But you said you sell 'even more',” Venti persisted. “Young man, there is only hot food in my shop!” “And what did you hide under the table then? I would never believe that pies can be so richly red and round.” The shameless bard continued to push and finally got a couple of apples, and then, humming to himself, continued his way until he saw a tall stone on which a young man was sitting surrounded by a karmic aura. This was not ordinary youth. He twisted the spear in his hand, watching with his heavy gaze a couple of monsters that were spinning nearby. This was the guardian Venti knew. An adept of the Kingdom of Contracts, doomed to a difficult fate. This adept crossed the distance with some inhuman speed and stood next to the little monsters. Crouched down and stretched out his hand, hidden under the thick cloth of the glove, which was surrounded by a karmic aura; seconds separated him from touching, but the little monsters who felt it began to run away with even greater horror, as if the young man himself was a terrible monster. As he expected. Putting the spear behind his back, he brushed the blades of grass from his hands. “You’re doing it wrong,” Venti corrected him playfully. Young man, without even turning around, suddenly disappeared, leaving behind a dissipating shadow. And a moment later he appeared in front of his `teacher`. A dark haze blocked Venti`s way, as if a spirit stood in front of him in an attempt to stop. “Who are you?” came from the air, “The smell of blood comes from you.” “What a pity, I like the smell of fresh apples more.” “A thief? One of the treasure thieves?” Venti laughed at the suggestion. The young man was so incredulous. “Someone who will teach you how to handle monsters.” If it wasn’t for his many years of experience in fighting monsters, an adept would have been angry at such a statement. Clenched hands became an obvious indicator of wounded pride, because this person saw him at the moment of manifested mental weakness in front of living beings. “I don’t need your advice.” Venti had heard it too often to feel offended. “You shouldn’t say that, I know how to speak their language! Olah, olah, yoyo…” before he could finish, the monster running at him with a torch in his hand was thrown away by adept`s spear. “There’s no time to be idle.” when he was about to disappear into a black haze, his gaze caught on the bow and arrows behind Venti`s back. “This is not a real bow.” Venti froze, now carefully examining the interlocutor. “Yes, you’re right. It’s actually a lyre.” he took out a bow and twirled it, and then it turned into a musical instrument. For the first time in the empty eyes he saw sparks of interest. “I’ll play you something if you tell me who you are,” Venti offered, already knowing the answers to all the questions. Surprisingly, the adept did not resist: “I am adept Xiao, demonic being, who has sworn to protect these lands at the cost of my own life.” Venti smiled gently, accepting the answer. Here it is, a cruel demonic creature. “Well, now it’s my turn. Let me tell you my story.” The lyre in his hands made only a few sounds, and Xiao’s face became softer. Venti continued: “First there was the flow of wind, an elemental that wandered in the woods outside the city…”