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“What are you up to?”
The deep voice and shuffling of fabric behind Venti cause him to turn his head around. The sight that greets him is none other than Mondstadt’s Darknight hero, climbing up the statue’s arm.
He forces himself to put on a convenient smile. “Well, if it isn’t Mond’s favorite vigilante! To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Diluc rolls his eyes, fondly, and swiftly makes his way up and to the statue’s hands, where the bard is sitting and dangling his feet playfully.
“Can I?” he points next to Venti.
“Oh, of course!” he shuffles so the red head can settle next to him. There isn’t enough space for both of them to fully get comfortable, but they make it work somehow.
It’s the late hours past midnight and there isn’t a soul walking around the statue. The cool breeze touches their skins, leaving a pleasant sensation behind.
“So, you didn’t tell me what you are doing here at such an hour.”
Venti hesitates before answering. “How about you tell me first?” he tries to sound gleeful but his tone is still slightly pleading. Diluc seems to take notice of it. “You already know what I’m usually doing at the dark hours. I just took care of some business the knights were too incompetent to.” He points at the plaza with a small smirk and Venti can faintly recognize some dark figures making small to no movements, probably struggling against their restraints. He lets out a snort at that.
“My, my, Master Diluc. You don’t let “the evildoers” have a single night off, do you?”
Diluc raises an eyebrow at that. “No, obviously not.”
This time Venti doubles over, fully bursting into laughter while wrapping his arms around himself. The vigilante grabs the back of his cape, making sure he doesn’t fall, momentarily forgetting it’s the anemo archon he is dealing with.
Venti wipes out the tears from the corner of his eyes, mirth still clear in his voice. “Always so serious, Diluc. But thank you. Haven’t had such a good laugh in a while.”
Diluc wants to voice his frustration, his face slightly flushed in embarrassment, but he just opens and closes his mouth a few times and the decides against it. His helplessness causes Venti to giggle a little longer.
“So, you got your answer, give me mine.”
The archon’s smile grows melancholic, making Diluc almost take his question back.
“Yes, you are right, I guess. It’s only fair that I be more open with you, when I expect the same from you, isn’t it?”
Diluc stays silent, listening attentively to whatever the bard has to say.
“As you know, me and our dear Traveler went around getting some things done here and there yesterday…and well, things happened and let’s just say it brought back some old memories…”
Diluc hums in understanding. “So, …you’re feeling nostalgic then?”
Venti lets out a hollow laugh. “Yeah, something like that.”
They sit there in silence for a while. Eventually, Venti speaks again.
He sounds uncharacteristically hesitant.
“Say, Diluc. You know how it feels to look at your own reflection but see someone else staring back, …right?”
That sends a chill down Diluc’s spine, making him slightly shudder at the archon’s question.
Before he gets to come up with an answer, Venti continues, speaking a little faster this time. “Do you also know how it feels, for your dreams, to not be truly yours but still all you ever wanted to achieve? Just to make someone you deeply care about happy? To achieve for them, what they never got to?”
He is now wringing his hands together, sounding unsure of himself. “To wonder, am I really doing this right? Is this what they would have wanted?”
Venti is a god, with thousands of years of age and tons of experience ahead of Diluc. The first time they met and he let Diluc witness him play and sing, his divinity, his already existing respect for the god of freedom only grew more. He always has this air of wisdom around him, despite the childish look.
But right now, to Diluc, he seems so small. Like the child that he looks to be.
He puts a hesitant hand on the archon’s lap, not looking directly at him, hoping to give him some sense of comfort. “I do.”
Because, he really does. He may not know what it is that the archon is exactly talking about, but if there is anyone who does understand such an oddly specific predicament, it’s him.
He looks at the sky, letting out a little laugh. “Really well, actually. It probably sounds funny to you, a human claiming to understand the troubles of an archon- woah!”
He almost falls when Venti suddenly latches onto his torso, embracing him and giggling. “You were doing a semi-decent job in an emotional situation for once in your life and then you just had to go ahead and ruin it with your self-esteem issues! It’s okay, though. I as the anemo archon, will spare you for your idiocy this time, because I’m plenty merciful!” Venti says, sniffing.
“Oh, shut up! Wait- are you cryi-”
“Am, not! And you shut up! How dare you talk to your archon like this! The blasphemy!” He is crying and laughing at the same time now.
“Hmph!”
Then Diluc lets out a gentle giggle too and pulls Venti closer into the hug.
The sun has started to rise, signing the start of the early hours of morning, so they both sit there in the comfort of each other’s presence and enjoy the ethereal view.
“Hey, Master Diluc?”
“What is it?”
“About your conversation with Sir Kaeya yesterday. Not to pry but, was he referring to that hideous vase you have-”
“L-let’s not talk about that!”
Venti giggled. “Haha, ok! Maybe some other time. And, also! Good morning to you Master Diluc!”
“You say that like we are just seeing each other.”
“Just say it back! It’s rude you know? I’m trying to show manners, for crying out loud!”
Diluc puts on an amused smile. “Okay then. If you want to hear it so bad. Good morning to you too, Venti.”
________________________________________________________
The sky looks like it’s melting. The reds and oranges of the sunset, mixing in with the glum greys of smoke. The sun looks like a huge floating piece of molten gold, slowly getting dunked in the sea.
Around them, dead bodies are scattered, covered in ash and blood. Some are slain friends and comrades, the others, foes and traitors.
In the battle against Celestia, they had come out victorious.
But had it truly been worth it? The many lives that were sacrificed for the sake of freedom. They would never be able to get a taste of it themselves. Were they happy like this? Their lives in exchange for the freedom of others? Were they at least, finally at peace?
Barbatos lifts the former pyro wielder’s head, slowly placing it on his lap. The red blood, soaking his already crimson hair, making the two impossible to tell apart.
Diluc cracks a hazy eye open at him. He seems troubled even by something as simple as that.
“Barbatos…did we…?”
Barbatos’ brows pinch together. The redhead’s voice was so hoarse, it must hurt him to speak.
“We won,” He smiles down at him, “Thanks to you and all the other courageous warriors of us.”
The man still doesn’t look fully relieved. As he opens his mouth to speak, he breaks into a long, painful coughing fit. There is even more blood dripping down the corner of his mouth now.
“Kaeya-”
“Shhh, calm down now, take it slow. I’m not going anywhere. And Kaeya is fine. Last I saw him, he was by the Traveler and her twin’s side. All of them are fine.” He strokes his curls gently, hoping that it would give him some sense of solace. He wondered if anything he does can really help the dying man’s panic. Even at these moments, he is trying so desperately, not to seem weak, something that he never has been, in Barbatos'opinion, and in contrast to his own self-destructive beliefs.
Barbatos has lived for thousands of years. He knows what most don’t. Has experienced things most don’t even know of. Yet, he doesn’t know what dying feels like.
He isn’t unfamiliar with the concept, of course. During his years, he has lost many to the cold and unforgiving claws of death. But dying himself is the farthest experience from being immortal, after all. He has always thought it’s the cruelest of all curses.
“Jean, and-”
“Everyone is alright. Stop straining yourself you idiot.” Venti tries to put on his signature joyful smile, letting his archon façade slip for a moment. He hopes that he can bring his friend some comfort. Or perhaps, he does it for his own sake.
This guy…still more worried for the well-being of others, even though he can hardly breathe anymore. Of course, everyone isn’t alright. They had all witnessed the most gruesome war in Teyvat’s history from beginning to end. It was sure to leave its scars. But Barbatos figured telling that to the red head won’t do him any good. He has no sense of self-care, for archons’ sake…
Diluc finally offers him a weak smile, closing his eyes and letting out a shaky breath. “Okay, whatever you say. I trust you.” He turns his head slightly, looking at the setting sun. Barbatos does the same, while still having some of his attention on Diluc.
Barbatos can’t help but feel guilty at what he had just been told, but he keeps his feelings to himself.
He knows how to keep his composure. Way too good.
He hates it. It hurts. It always does. He wants to get it all out.
He remains calm. Not time for this. Not now. And most certainly never.
His attention is brought back to the weakened man on his lap, when he feels the fabric of his clothes, being weakly tugged on.
“Tell Kaeya...that I’m sorry. And that I forgave him, long ago. That I love him, always had,” He takes in a shaky breath, that he doesn’t seem able to keep in his lungs. He keeps struggling to push the words out. “I just didn’t notice it ‘till it was too late.”
If Barbatos notices Diluc’s teary eyes, he doesn’t say anything. Even as they pour down his bloodstained face, mixing with the blood and ash, washing some of the grime on his pale face away.
“I will.” He reassures.
“He feels the same way, you know.”
Diluc scoffes, which is more like just a huff of breath. “You wouldn’t know that.” He says in a weak voice.
“I know it as a fact, actually. Have some faith in your good ol’ archon, won’t you, Master Ragnvindr?”
“Alright...”
He digs his fingers further into Barbatos’ clothes, his whole face suddenly pinching together and despite his calm façade, Barbatos panics inside.
“Barbatos, did I…did I do good?” his voice comes out shaky and gruff. Desperate.
It sends a pang of pain through Barbatos’ chest.
“You did more than anyone could ever ask for. I’m proud I got to fight by your side. And proud that you are a child of Mondstadt.”
He plants a chaste kiss on his dying friend’s hair. It’s rough and tangled, covered with dried blood and ash.
Diluc is whimpering now, although it so weak it’s hard to notice.
“I don’t want to leave.”
Barbatos’ breath catches in his throat. How cruel.
I don’t want you to leave either.
“It’s going to be alright. I’m here.” He lies, his voice indiscernibly vibrating. For both of their sakes. Yet, he feels like he is being selfish.
“Okay.” Diluc breathes out. There was still a hint of panic in his voice. He knows a lie when he hears one, but he doesn’t push further. Barbatos tries to ignore the thought.
The sun has almost fully disappeared now. They are bathing in its remaining light. It’s warm, yet gloomy.
The archon looks down at his friend’s features.
He really is the dawn in human form. Always so warm and bright.
The signature crimson locks of his clan, reflecting the dying sunlight. Even at a condition like this, it looks mesmerizing.
The golden red of his eyes, that always looked like they had the sun locked inside. Always shining with his unrivaled passion and determination. They do say that the eyes are the windows to one’s soul. He was the walking proof of it. Staring up at his archon now, they are dull and unfocused, soon to be fully deprived of their former liveliness.
The sun has now fully set, leaving them in the darkness. It’s so cold.
“Goodnight, Venti.” Diluc whispers, as the movements of his chest start to cease.
Venti pulls his best friend’s now cold body, closer.
“Goodnight, my warrior.”
________________________________________________________
“Hey.”
Venti raises his head, his eyes meeting the Cavalry Captain’s single blue one, shining in the dark. It’s well past midnight. Venti wonders what the Favonius captain was looking for at Windrise. Maybe Venti himself.
He gives him a gentle smile. “Hey.”
Venti’s hand gestures towards the place next to him on the ground, covered with roots and twigs. “Want to occupy a glorious seat next to a former archon?”
Kaeya walks towards the spot, giving him a small smirk, almost rolling his eyes, but it doesn’t last long before his face goes back to its somber expression.
He takes a sit next to the former archon, dry leaves and twigs scrunching under his body’s pressure. His and Diluc’s grey visions are both hanging from his hip, making tinkling sounds as they hit each other.
He pushes his back against the gigantic tree’s trunk, facing up. The wind blows through the leaves, making rustling sounds. It’s quite calming. After a few moments of silence, Kaeya finally speaks.
“He had kept the vase.”
“He had.”
“…”
“Why?”
“You already know the answer.”
“Why would I ask you if I already knew?” He says, irritated, whipping his head around to face Venti.
“You really do. He did too. But both of you were too stubborn to notice it, not until…” He says, melancholically.
The blue haired man is looking at his lap now, expression hidden by his long bangs.
“Please, … just tell me. Even I am not in the mood for mind games right now.”
Venti wears a sad smile. “I’m sorry. Maybe that was inconsiderate of me.”
Kaeya says nothing.
Venti keeps going. “Before he-,” his voice shakes slightly. He takes in a breath before speaking again. He feels Kaeya shiver next to him.
“…He said that he was sorry, and that he had forgiven you long ago. He said he wished he had noticed it earlier.”
“Well, it’s too damn late for that now, isn’t it?” His tone is a mix of agitated and calm. “Careless idiot…” He whispers.
The bard gives him a moment before he continues. “But you feel the same way, don’t you?” He notices Kaeya’s jolt at that.
“I don’t see how that matters anymore.”
“So, are you saying your love and care for him don’t matter, now that he is dead? That you don’t feel the same anymore?”
“That’s not what I meant.” He sounds offended.
“You think he hated you. He thought the same about you. But he loved you. I could always tell how much he missed your place in his life. Even at his best moments, there was always a look of longing in his eyes. I don’t think he could ever feel truly happy without you by his side.”
“What makes you think he didn’t hate me? I think he made it pretty obvious when he was still around...”
“Well, he told me himself.”
That finally gets Kaeya to turn around and look at him again. “He really did?” The voice that leaves his mouth is so broken that it shatters Venti’s heart into a million pieces. He just nods in response.
Kaeya takes in a shaky breath, trying hard to keep his composure.
“If he was truly sorry, why did he leave me alone again?” His voice is trembling. “How can I forgive him after that? At least he came back the first time.”
A broken laugh leaves Venti’s mouth. “Believe me, if I knew he could had done anything about it and didn’t, I’d be furious at him too. But he couldn’t and I just wish I had a reason to be mad at him. Blaming him would just make all of this easier, wouldn’t it?”
Venti faces upwards, looking at the trees unending leaves and branches. “I miss him. I really do miss my closest friend. But…I’m glad that I got to meet him in the first place.”
The blunette looks at the bard’s expression, before burying his face in Venti’s shoulder.
“I…miss him too.” Venti hears his muffled voice.
And if Venti notices his quiet whimpers and the dampness blooming on his shoulder, he doesn’t say anything.
He pulls the former cryo user closer, wrapping his arms around the younger man’s broad shoulders, rubbing his back in comforting circles.
They stay in that position for a while, until Kaeya finally composes himself and breaks from the hug first. Venti notices the rays of sunshine starting to peek from behind the heels, signaling the start of the day.
“Hey Kaeya?” He says with a slight happiness in his voice.
“Yes?” Kaeya answers with a voice that is hoarse from crying. He looks confused.
And then Venti beams at him. “Good morning!”
Kaeya is caught off-guard by the bard’s sudden merriment and change of attitude. Yet, can’t help but quietly chuckle in amusement. He doesn’t really question the former archon’s strange behavior and just answers back, smiling.
“Well, good morning to you as well, Venti.”