Work Text:
Aether notices quickly that the unrestrained winds sweeping through the streets of the city carry secrets in their own right. In the City of Freedom, the carefree citizens turn to idle chatter to occupy their minds - Diluc in particular was most discontent with this, yet the indulgence in petty rumours is a blessing in disguise. Only in times of peace do people turn to gossip to dull their minds.
The observation seems to be an important one. As a traveller, he is well-acquainted with being excluded, yet this seemingly peaceful city seems to hold a secret that can’t help but make him feel… like he’s out of the loop, somehow. Amber filled him in on much of the city’s proceedings, but he could tell that her explanations withheld some degree of knowledge.
Even Paimon feels it.
When he confides in her on one of his daily trips to extermine a hilichurl camp, she quietly informs him that it’s unusual for Mondstadt. “The last time Paimon visited Mondstadt, the place was like an open book! It’s not typical of the people to keep secrets from outsiders - it’s the City of Freedom, and that includes a free flow of knowledge.”
She later clarified. “Basic knowledge, of course.” Which made a lot more sense. Kaeya, for example, didn’t seem like the kind of person who handed out information like it was candy.
In conjunction with the Knights of Favonius, they’ve weakened Stormterror by destroying the main sources of its power, but none of his burgeoning questions are answered. Honorary Knight he may be, yet the title does not entitle him to the city’s secrets.
Then, the stranger, Venti, turns out to be a clue - not that Aether knew it at the time. The bard speaks of times long passed, of the dragon threatening to tear the city apart with harsh winds being a guardian corrupted by a sinister organisation.
Aether thinks, reflexively, the shadow of a great tree disguising how his face contorts, that the Abyss Order sounds like something his sister would agree with (for though they resemble humans, they are not and never will be), but pushes the thought away as it arises. Lumine’s misanthropy might irk him, but after months without her, without knowing her status, he can’t help but miss her rants. Miss her.
Still, he’s never been one to ignore the scurrying of the humans despite their short lifespans, and with his powers resembling a quietly flickering flame rather than the luminescent star they used to be, he can’t turn his back on Mondstadt. Besides, his mind dregs up, lips quirking ever-so-slightly; he has been made an honorary knight. Might as well live up to that responsibility.
His passion ebbs when Venti suggests theft, breaking the laws of a city that has been nothing but welcoming to him in spite of the turbulent times. It roars back to life with the reminder that Dvalin’s fate lies in this tiny bard’s hands, and his plans, no matter how inane, cannot be brushed aside. Resigned, he returns to the cathedral when the moon casts it eerie light upon the stone and stained glass alike. He thinks Venti is too whimsical to be responsible for the nation’s future, but it is what it is.
Aether is wrong about Venti - but also right, in a way.
The strange reaction of the Sister, the ease with which Venti swept them away from the cathedral, the soft longing and melancholy that came across the bard as he gazed at the Holy Lyre der Himmel…
He shouldn’t have been surprised when Jean slipped and called Venti by his true name.
Diluc, on the contrary, takes it into stride, with a smoothness so like the wine industry tycoon that Aether is less suspicious than he should have been. Nonetheless, his recovery is swift, and their departure to the ruins of Old Mondstadt, swifter so.
For such a devout member of the Church of Favonius, Barbara’s reaction to the broken Holy Lyre is milder than Aether expected. Even in the dim lighting of the church, he can see something in her wither and die when she catches a glimpse of the splintered Lyre, no longer fit for display, let alone playing. Strangely, her reaction doesn’t reflect her feelings, eyes flickering from Aether’s sheepish expression to Venti’s abashed look, before she sighs.
Jean steps in to save them all. “I’m afraid that in the process of subduing and summarily freeing Dvalin from the Abyss Order’s influence, the Holy Lyre der Himmel sustained a few damages.
Barbara’s usually-warm gaze is piercing. “A few. ”
The sisters stare at each other, seemingly continuing their conversation in their minds. Barbara is the first to tear away, letting out a soft exhale.
“Well, if there was no other option...” She clutches the Lyre in one hand, putting the other on her hips, the picture of irritation. “But please, don’t take anything from the Church ever again.” It’s not like I can stop you - goes unspoken, evidenced by their thwarted theft of the Lyre that’s being swept under the rug.
It’s not like I have the right to stop you is the subtext that Aether never sees.
They depart from the Church of Favonius at a lively pace, Jean staying behind to talk to Barbara. Aether doesn’t know where Venti plans to bring him, but his time around the cheerful Archon-in-disguise has endeared him to him, though the same cannot be said about Paimon. It’s likely that their destination is Angel’s Share, while the little pixie’s is the Good Hunter.
The lack of Otto by the entrance is an immediate red flag. From his wanderings up and down Mondstadt, Aether knows that the Knight’s shift does not end for another hour. His absence, especially without a replacement, raises his hackles and puts him on alert. Pausing, one hand on the large cathedral door, he reaches the other out in front of him for Venti-
-and a duo of Fatui agents rise from bubbling ground which has turned as black as the abyss, outstretched blades that had designs on the weakened Archon.
Aether calls for Jean once, briefly turning back to the Church’s interior, then lets the heavy door slam shut and leaps forward, unleashing an Anemo burst. The Fatui agents jump backwards, and he follows them, hand ready to summon his sword, but they sink back into the stone tiles leaving nary a trace of their presence.
He’s strayed too far from Venti, he realises, far too late.
A violent icy gust hits his back and he turns - too slowly. This is no gentle, lissome breeze native to Mondstadt. These are weaponised winds carrying with them the cruelty of a distant Archon, blowing Paimon away and freezing Venti in his tracks. Aether raises his hands to shield himself - as if he could fight the frosty air currents himself, weakened as he is from the battle with Dvalin, with so little power - and is taken off-guard by the rematerialisation of the Fatui agents that capture his arms and trap him in place.
Through the pain of their scorchingly warm gloves - pyro vision holders? - he sees a stern woman clad in regal attire approaching Venti. La Signora. The recognition gives him pause.
“At last, Mondstadt’s rodent ruler in the flesh.” Her voice is as chilly as the element she commands. “Scurrying through the streets, looking for leftovers… Mondstadt calls this a god?”
His heart twinges, but his attempts at verbal protests and renewed struggles are cut off by searing pain up his arms. He sees Signora opening and closing her mouth, yet she might as well be mouthing the words, for all he hears over the blinding pain are his own grunts. He fights the Fatui agents vigorously, but they are stronger than him, more powerful than him, more capable of fighting in this world than him.
There’s a shout from below.
Aether doesn’t recognise the voice, but he does recognise the silvery armour with a gold insignia adorning its chestplate. The Knights of Favonius had heard - or seen - the commotion; unsurprising, given its highly public location. He wonders if Otto is among their numbers, given his absence, but now he thinks that Signora might have done something to him and worries. With the pain still sharp, shooting up his arms, however, he cannot spare many more thoughts for the wayward knight.
They should be a saving grace, yet he is not foolish enough to believe that the Knights can take on a Fatui Harbinger, no matter their strength in numbers. And then Jean opens the door of the cathedral to the scene.
Signora’s eyes widen, this much he can see, and she reaches quickly for the incapicated Venti before a blast of Anemo energy, warm in contrast to the flurry from before but sharp as the blade Jean wields, send her stumbling. Venti turns - as much as he can with his legs still frozen in place - to see Jean and reaches one arm out to her as she draws close, braids glowing as teal elemental energy flows from his body to her own.
He may be the weakest of the Archons, but a temporary boost from the Anemo Archon to one of the strongest Knight Mondstadt currently has to offer, their Dandelion Knight , is enough to put Jean nearly on par with Signora. With how he slumps afterwards, Aether suspects that Venti’s infused Jean with as much energy as he can handle.
Faced with the sight of Jean, tired from the battle with Dvalin yet seemingly ready to leap into battle nonetheless, Signora blanches. This is no easy victory over two weakened non-humans that she had likely expected, and Aether relishes in the way her eyes narrow and burn holes into Jean and the Knights, who have since reaches the doorsteps of the cathedral and are now fighting off the Fatui Agents and Mages.
“To ambush us after a hard battle - have you no shame?” Jean almost shouts at the Harbinger, tone incredulous.
Signora simply sneers. The four agents she has brought with her have been subdued by now, and she is without support in the face of the Acting Grandmaster and at least five other Knights who have not been wounded in the fight. Ten more are only slightly injured.
“The Acting Grandmaster finally shows her face.” She spits out Jean’s title like it’s a slur.
The Harbinger raises a hand and the Acting Grandmaster mirrors her action, raising a shield of Anemo to protect herself and her Archon. Her quick reaction is the only thing that stops them from suffering the same fate as Paimon, and when the harsh gales fade and Aether can finally lower his arms from his face, Signora has vanished.
The Knights are fanning out, searching the area, but Aether drags himself over to Venti. Jean lowers her hands, Anemo chipping and breaking the ice coating his legs. She checks him over, once, but with the danger passed, his shoulders sag and his eyes close, small body collapsing in her arms.
“Venti!” Her cries mix with his own.
“The Symbol of Mondstadt’s Hero,” Aether gasps out, memories of Venti healing beneath Vennessa’s tree swirling to the forefront of his mind.
Jean turns to him, eyebrows lifting, but he pinpoints the moment she grasps what he’s implying. She lifts Venti up in a bridal carry, standing with ease and turning in the direction of Mondstadt’s gates. “I’ll bring him there as quickly as possible. Barbara should be out shortly…” Muttering a quick order to her nearest subordinate, she shares a glance with Aether before leaving, Venti in tow.
Secure in the knowledge that his friend is safe, the adrenaline fades just as Paimon finally returns from wherever Signora had blown her, shivering but mostly unharmed. Her high pitched worrying is the last thing he hears before he collapses against the cathedral wall and lets the dark take him, the early morning sun leaving pinpricks in his vision.