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Venti had a lot to catch up on after his centuries-long slumber, from checking on his beloved Mondstadt to trying out all the new alcohol blends. Though that didn’t take long, considering his children can take care of themselves just fine, and nothing would be able to top dandelion wine.
Play a few songs at the fountain, check.
Pester a few people, check.
Add another drink to his tab, check.
Truly, being an archon is tiring work. During the little free time he has, Venti thinks about this and that. Today, he came to a shocking revelation, one of utmost importance. He didn’t have a signature weapon.
When he thinks of Morax, he thinks of Vortex Vanquisher. A presumptuous name for the record, he’d like to see that blockhead vanquish a vortex made by the anemo archon himself. For Ei, he remembers the brilliance of her Engulfing Lightning. Nahida, her A Thousand Floating Dreams, and so on.
All of these weapons had something in common: they were synonymous with their wielder. Venti, however, never really stuck to one weapon. Sure, many of the weapons that he wielded were engraved into legend, but if anyone were asked which weapon defined Barbatos, the answer would undoubtedly vary.
Hmm… most troubling indeed, perhaps he’d enlist some help.
-
It was another peaceful night in Mondstadt as Jean gazed at the moon, taking a small break from paperwork. It was a new addition to her routine, made possible by the effort of her friends.
Eventually, her eyes turned back to her table that held a few stacks of paper. There was still work to be done, even though Mondstadt was currently in a state of peace. The many knights sent away to a faraway land being the prime reason.
Before she could lift her quill, a breeze flew into her room, one she would forever recognize. “Venti.”
On her windowsill sat the archon of their land, the gentle breeze his constant companion. “Jean, I need your help.”
His tone was much different than the one he used when pestered her in attempts to make her work less. Worry instantly crept in as countless scenarios crossed Jean’s mind. Was the Fatui on the move again? An abyssal attack?
“Of course, anything.” Forever and always, she will raise her sword in defense of Mondstadt. No matter what the threat may be.
“Can you help me decide on a signature weapon?” Venti asks.
“...” Ah… not the words that Jean was expecting. “May I ask why?
-insert Venti yapping about why signature weapons are important-
Jean berates herself for thinking that Venti had approached her with a trivial matter. This problem concerned the social standing of Mondstadt as a whole. Barbatos is already seen as the weakest of the seven; it would do no good for people to think of him as flippant and indecisive, too.
As a proud citizen of Mondstadt, Jean naturally has Barbatos as the top one in her archon tier list. Selecting a signature weapon would help spread awareness of the unparalleled skill that her archon has when wielding a bow.
“If I had to choose out of all the weapons mentioned in tales that regale you, my choice would be The Daybreak Chronicles.” This weapon, in particular, held a special place in Jean’s heart.
“Oh? May I ask why?” Venti says as he summons the weapon of legend, as if it were just some common bow. Pure anemo energy radiated off the bow, highlighting its lethality and the destruction that Venti could wreak with a single arrow. Even though the bow screamed power, it also held a delicate touch of beauty, a cecilia on the bow’s tip, threatening to blow away.
It was at times like these that Jean is reminded of Venti’s divinity and his true identity as Barbatos.
“As a child, I idolized the first Dandelion Knight, Venessa. Records associate the bow you hold right now as the one used to free her alongside all of Mondstadt.” It was the bow that freed Mondstadt from the tyranny of the Lawrence clan in the past, allowing Mondstadt to be what it is today. Truly, Jean couldn't think of a better option for Venti’s signature.
Vennessa… he should check up on her later, Venti thinks. “It’s true that I assisted Venessa in her time of need, but make no mistake, it was through the will of the people that Mondstadt freed itself.”
“Even so… thank you.” The gratitude of Mondstadt to Barbatos could hardly be put into mere words. Though Venti may act a bit wayward at times, when she remembers all he’s done for Mondstadt, she is sure of one thing. He deserves every second of prayer.
-
Old Mondstadt has seen better days. Time and disuse have left it in its current state of disrepair. Though it does work in Dvalin’s favor, the eeriness of Old Mondstadt keeps most people away, making it the perfect place for him to stay.
After what he did while he was corrupted, Dvalin doubts that the current generation of Mondstadt would like to see him again. It gets a little lonely, but he does get the occasional visitor.
The child with a disposition for explosives in particular loves to use Old Mondstadt as her testing grounds, much to his dismay. His most frequent visitor was, without a doubt, the anemo archon himself.
He would pop up whenever he wanted without care for the occasion, as expected of the god that represented freedom. Thus, Dvalin was not surprised when he woke up from a nap and found the bard plucking a tune on top of his head. In fact, Dvalin quite liked it, as any tune played by Barbatos was one he favored. If not for his self-control, he’d fall back into his nap, lulled by the melody.
“Barbatos.” Dvalin calls out, though he is sure Barbatos noticed that he had woken up long ago. He was given the choice to wake up or fall into slumber, guided by a divine song. A most gracious god, Barbatos is.
“Dvalin! Have a nice rest?” Venti asks.
“Yes.” The spire of Old Mondstadt was a prime napping spot.
“That’s good,” Venti says as he gently caresses a few of Dvalin’s scales. “I need your help with something today.”
“Of course, anything.” Forever and always, he will raise his claw in defense of Mondstadt. No matter what the threat may be.
“Well… I’ve been thinking about my past.” Venti’s eyes are clouded in nostalgia with a touch of melancholy. Dvalin is about to reassure him before Venti continues. “Oops! Sorry, old friend, not sad ones!”
With how long they’ve been alive, reminiscing was an endless spiral, one that would ruin the mood on such a perfect day. “More specifically, I was thinking about all the weapons that I used in the past.”
“Oh?” Barbatos is no warrior god, but his prowess in battle is not one to be underestimated, Dvalin is certain. No matter the weapon in hand, a plucked arrow would spell catastrophe for those unfortunate enough to earn Barbatos’s ire. “What of them?”
“I need help deciding on a signature weapon. Everyone else has one, except me!” Venti says as he pouts, raising a fist up in the air. “Which of my past bows is your favorite?”
“Hmm…” Having been by Barbatos’s side for so long, Dvalin has seen him use each bow firsthand, and they were all powerful. Though he did favor one of the bows more than the others. “I find the Skyward Harp to be most favorable.”
Music was the reason Dvalin and Barbatos had met in the first place. Dvalin would never forget the song that had enchanted him so far in the past. No matter how dreary the world may feel, if Dvalin is able to hear Barbatos play, then all will be right.
“I had a feeling you’d say that,” Venti says as he summons Skyward Harp, the bow glew with divinity befitting of its wielder. Its strings were the same color as the feathers swaying on the bow’s tip. It was a beautiful bow, but even more beautiful were the melodies played by it. “Shall I play you a song?”
A question with an obvious answer. “If you would.”
It is not long after that Dvalin falls back asleep once more.
-
Venti values the opinion of all his children, which makes it even harder for him to settle on a signature weapon. Jean preferred The Daybreak Chronicles and Dvalin the Skyward Harp.
Usually, an easy way to decide would be to simply decide for himself which he preferred between the two and cast a tie-breaker vote.
But the bow he held in the highest regard was not among those two options; instead, his most prized bow was Elegy for the End. A bow named and shaped by catastrophe, of love lost.
Venti hears each and every prayer on the wind, even in his slumber. Elegy of the End was a bow that he had shaped in requiem for all the prayers he had failed to answer. There were two in particular that had been occupying the front of his mind recently.
A prayer from Rostam to Rosalyne, and a prayer from Rosalyne to Rostam. Both loved the other more than they loved themselves, for that love to end in tragedy… Venti’s heart aches at what became of Rosalyne in the wake of Rostam’s death.
Though she had changed, Rosalyne would forever remain a child of Mondstadt, no matter what. It was the reason he had willingly given up his gnosis to her; a part of him had always wanted to atone. That part of him would grow as he heard of her death in Inazuma.
Ei… Venti rarely harbors animosity, but he would be lying if he said he did not harbor some against her. A conflict between archons would achieve nothing, though, so Venti did what he could and traveled to Inazuma. There, he personally guided Rosalyne-Kruzchka Lohefalter’s soul to a peaceful end.
Venti settles down on a cliff near the sea, he decides to put off the matter of his signature weapon for another day.
-
“Won’t you help me, master Diluc?” Venti asks as Diluc places a cup of dandelion wine in front of him.
“With what?” Diluc replies, though he is a bit irritated at the way Venti phrased the question. Venti needs only ask, and Diluc will comply.
Though Diluc may act brashly when dealing with Venti, his image of Barbatos remains untouched and holy. Forever and always, his faith remains.
Diluc chalks it up to just being because his father brought him to church when he was younger, but he knows that to be false. For his faith has only grown over time, especially now that he sees his god almost every day.
“I don’t know how familiar you are with old texts about me-“ Very, Diluc thinks. “but I realized that I don’t have a signature weapon like all the other archons.”
Diluc subtly looks around at the other bar goers, but no one reacts to what Venti just said. Manipulation of the winds, a fearsome power indeed. “So? I hardly think that’s a problem worth thought.”
“Well, please pretend that it is, which of my bows would you pick to be my signature weapon?” Venti had to ruminate a bit on how he would decide until he settled on giving Diluc the tie-breaking vote. Some compensation for the ridiculously high bar tab he's accrued, ehe~.
Venti takes a few sips of wine as he waits for Diluc’s answer. Wow… he was taking it super seriously. Diluc’s arms were crossed as he closed his eyes in thought.
“All of them.” Diluc finally answers.
“You can’t do that!“ Venti stammers.
“Tell me this, bard. What constitutes a signature weapon?” Diluc replies.
“A weapon defined by its owner,” Venti answers.
“The Daybreak Chronicles, Skyward Hard, and Elegy of the End. Do they not all fit that definition?” Diluc questions, not even mentioning the historical significance that each of them had.
“Are you proposing that I have three signature weapons, master Diluc?” Venti says. “A bit greedy, no?”
“When have you ever been one to care about what other people think about you?” Diluc replies.
“Haha, well said! I’d say this occasion deserves a toast!” Venti says as he raises his mug to Diluc.
The toast is meant with Diluc’s stoicism. “Celebrating for remaining in the status quo?”
“You’re so mean, master Diluc!” Venti pouts.
-
For the people, by the people. These three legendary bows will remain in service to Mondstadt, forever and always.
