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#even the lissome wind grows heavy with grief
protect-namine · 2 months
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going insane about venti and traveler all over again. poet summons a star to heal the hurts of the world. archon gives an outlander a home. storyteller chronicles the tales of an adventurer. god cheekily asks their companion to be their apostle. a witness to THE witness. god × god, archon pretending to be human × star pretending to be mortal. bard and muse. "a shade more ethereal than white, yet more radiant still than gold. it eases into your eyes, and restores to light a solitary soul" × "sometimes even the lissome wind grows heavy in its grief, but not that mortals could ever see a moment oh so brief"
"beloved of the anemo archon" indeed...
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strytells · 2 years
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        Sometimes even the lissome wind grows heavy in its grief...                  But not that mortals could ever see a moment oh so brief.
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panmangalover14 · 3 years
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I just finished the quest "Should You be Trapped in a Windless Land" and it almost made me cry. It's so bittersweet. Stanley's friend's spirit being finally able to move on was so sad. Then Venti's story of how he gained his human form. It was so good. And I originally thought this was going to be a silly quest at the beginning, I wasn't expecting the ending. Definitely one of my favorite quests so far.
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roc-writes · 3 years
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Mondstadt and its Archon
Sister Grace asks for help in preparing an offering to Barbatos, and he so happens to be there at the end.
Pairing: Venti x Traveler (Reader) Warnings: Some crying Note: I happened to unlock this quest and complete it while Venti was still at the usual place and I really just wanted to give him a hug, and then this happened.
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The green-clad figure is uncharacteristically silent. Sometimes even the lissome winds grow heavy in their grief… But not that mortals could ever see a moment oh so brief. The urge to embrace Venti from behind is almost overpowering, but you relent. The painful memories he holds for the past, for his friend, it is enough to forget all else. To forget that even in the present, there are people who care for the bard as he cares for them. The city of Mondstadt was filled with so much love, but it can do little to ease a broken heart. Perhaps… it would be better to give him some space. With a final gentle glance, you descend behind the statue of Barbatos so those who gaze upwards in delight as your glider falls would not see your friend grieve above.
“Traveler?” Sister Grace rounded the statue, eyes squinted softly in a smile as she spotted you turning back. You lowered your head briefly in greeting.
“What are you up to?” She hummed thoughtfully as you closed the distance between your bodies.
“I was praying to Lord Barbatos. It was and always has been his protection that has kept Mondstadt, the knights, and the adventurers safe.” Your face broke into a half-smile.
“Yes… How hardworking of him.” Sister Grace turned towards the pre-dawn horizon, when had it gotten so late? Truly, even if he favored wine just a bit too much, Venti would try his best to ensure the happiness of all those who called the City of Freedom their home. The silence was companionable, soft, until she spoke up softly.
“Traveler, if you have some time, could you do me a favor?” Noticing your attention was still on her, she continued. “May you bring me a batch of Dandelion seeds to spread on the winds atop the statue of Lord Barbatos?” Strange as the request sounded, you pulled out some seeds from your pouch. You had picked them earlier in your adventures with Venti, Jack, and Stanley. Venti even offered to make a wish with you over wine once you’d all returned safely, saying that it would surely come true as long as he was with you. You unwrapped them from the dainty cloth they were kept and offered them to Sister Grace.
“Will these do? I picked them only a few hours ago with a dear friend.” She beamed in return, nodding.
“Perfect. May I see them for a moment?” You placed the floaty seeds in her outstretched palms, and she gently curled her fingers around them. “…Lord Barbatos, please hear me…” Her prayer was gentle, grateful even. Thanking the Anemo Archon for the prosperity of the Knights of Favonius, the Adventurer’s Guild, Mondstadt, and she even offered a quiet prayer for you hoping it would grant you safety along your travels. Spending so much time helping the people of the city, everyone had learned of your journey and your name. It was humbling to imagine those that send wishes along the seeds of a Dandelion also wished for your safety and health in some way. Once finished in her prayers, you were handed back the seeds with the utmost care.
“I will spread these on the wind.” You spoke.
“Thank you ever so much.” Out of the corner of your eye, Paimon had finally returned once Sister Grace retreated into the walls of the cathedral to begin her duties. She was disgruntled and more than a little annoyed but carried a bundle of apples with her.
“Here are your STUPID apples! Paimon still doesn’t know why you sent her so far away like that!” You laughed gently.
“Thank you Paimon. And Venti wasn’t feeling well, I thought some food would cheer him up. Let’s see how he’s doing now, shall we?” The climb back up to the hands of the statue was swift and painless, you had nearly perfected it with how often you and Venti would abscond with the wind to have a moment to laugh together. Carefully treading over the arms of the statue, Venti was still observing the city below in silence. Turning to Paimon, you placed a finger to your lips before walking forward. He didn’t even budge when you crouched behind him, and you firmly believed he didn’t even sense you. So, you quietly unraveled the blessed seeds and blew against them. On your breath, the Dandelion seeds danced off into the wind. And that, Venti noticed.
“Dandelions?” He murmured, a croak in his voice that made your chest constrict in sorrow. Had he been crying? Suddenly, the hunched figure of the Anemo Archon straightened, and he looked back at you. His eyes were red and puffy, and they threatened to spill all over again when an apple was offered in front of him.
“Did you hear them? The voices of Mondstadt?” You asked as his teeth dug into the flesh of his apple. He sniffled once and swallowed with difficulty, but he nodded. You held out one more dandelion seed in your free hand, and with a smile you spirited that one away with the others. A wish you made, one that was spoken to Venti through a single wind. The dam broke and he flung his arms around you, sobbing. You returned his embrace as tightly as you could. It was a wish of happiness and love, and it danced along to the bright skies of a new morning that bathed the city in colors of blue and gold.
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symptomofgout · 3 years
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sometimes even the lissome wind grows heavy in its grief... but not that mortals could ever see a moment oh so brief
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shionbluu · 3 years
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Even the lissome wind grows heavy in its grief...
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delenhrr · 3 years
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version two of my previous art work. 
Sometimes even the lissome wind grows heavy in its grief... But not that mortals could ever see a moment oh so brief.
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rhymingstar · 3 years
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Plotted starter for @celestarial​
The green-clad figure is uncharacteristically silent.
How? Ever since the war, it had never even crossed my mind. The thought that I could awaken in a land where he was the last. The last of the original Seven. The memories we’d all shared...
Sometimes, even the lissome wind grows heavy in its grief...
Morax? Struck down..? So quietly. Almost as if he was never here. Does Teyvat not shed tears? The ground stands firm. Unchanging. Unforgiving. Uncaring.
But not that mortals could ever see a moment oh so brief.
He shakes his head, as if to clear it. No... Now was not the time to think such things. New winds blow across the world. Against those winds of change, all things bend and break, to be regrown anew in an infant age. Every new beginning requires a crushing end.
A memory surfaces. Six faces, smiling. Happy together at the end of the last age. The beginning of the new. The end of the war. The end of the tumult. Venti remembered smiling. It was the first true smile to cross his face since the fall of Decarabian. That, too had been a beginning. A shining new age. Still adjusting to his then new form, he’d called for the newly appointed Seven to gather. To know each other. To become acquainted with the gods of Teyvat who shared their title.
That age was no longer new. The sky was no longer so shiny and fresh. If anything, it had reached its dying days. If you’d told him then that he would be the last, he’s not sure he’d have believed it. Nor was he entirely certain that he wouldn’t. That seemed to be the way of things. Just as he’d come to rely on a presence. Just as he’d come to know it as something unchanging, these winds would blow. He’d come to expect them. In truth, Venti wasn’t sure what he thought of that.
Yet, it was those very same winds that brought him here. He’d sensed something. Something... drastic. Irreversible. Brown shoes stand near the shrine on Yujing Terrace, far from the grassy plains where they usually watched. Over two millennia had truly passed since they’d gathered here in Liyue that first time. Yet, he’d returned for a much more somber reason. This wasn’t a pleasant introduction, but a bittersweet farewell.
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Head bowed, Venti for once was at a loss for words. Rare as that may be, it didn’t seem to matter much. Words of grief would be lost without any ears to hear. And so he stood, alone at the site of an old friend’s demise, with only a turmoil of emotion for company. So lost was he in his thought, he didn’t even notice the approaching footsteps from behind...
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utanaza · 3 years
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// Sometimes even the lissome wind grows heavy in it’s grief... But not that mortals could ever see a moment oh so brief. //
I played Venti’s Story Quest and I cried.
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shadowbringcr · 3 years
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            The breeze dances on her face, tasting sickly sweet. Such a sharp contrast to the sugary spice the others would want to display, playing pretend at spooks and mock horror. Nay, this one dances to the tune of his own soul, free to do what he wills.
            It just so happens that she was in the mood to break some wills. And what a better target, than one who is so confident and comfortable with doing what he wants? She approaches him innocently enough - walking opposite his way at the sidewalk, nothing but a simple passerby. But not everything is so simple, not when she is quick to whisper down at his ear.
            “I know you. You think no one would notice, but I do.”
            Her words drip down like poison.
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            “You’re a fraud.”
@galearchon​ / sometimes even the lissome wind grows heavy in its grief.
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105nt · 2 years
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I love this one.
Humble Folk by Mary Webb
Above our lane two rows of larches lean,
And lissom, rosy pines with wild black hair--
One slim, bright-fingered chestnut in between.
In blossom-time and berry-time and snow
Are muffled sounds of feet that come and go
For ever, from the cones and falling spines
And the sad, homeless rhythm of the pines.
These are our friends; we feel the griefs they bear;
We know the larches' thin young April song;
The heavy, dark endeavour of the cone
That goes alone
Among the thick, obliterating dust--
Impelled by something faint and strong
Within her, by the lust
Of death, towards the red and living tree.
Our fingers and the chestnut's touch and hold
The blue light and the gold,
And in a little drop them listlessly.
We know so few things more than these--
The larch that moans in rain
And every March puts roses on again;
The wise, mute chestnut listening to the bees;
The pine
That drinks the icy wind like wine.
We ask no better birth than their brown roots;
We dare not dream of immortality
Unshared by their brown fruits.
And when the wild bee's voice
Grows faint for us, we only ask to lie
Like two straight trees cut down together,
Not fearing any weather,
Too soundly sleeping even to rejoice.
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