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riabef · 1 year

Text

✎. warmest wishes

SUMMARY: As the year finally comes to a close, it’s time for reminiscing on the characters between the Mondstadt and Liyue archon quests! (I couldn’t do the rest, I’m so sorry I didn’t even unlock Inazuma yet, but I’ll try to get to them as soona s possible!)

FEATURING CAST: Traveller (not specified), Venti, Diluc, Jean, Zhongli, Ningguang, Xiao, Xiangling, and Reader…. I think that’s it

PRONOUNS: gender neutral reader!, second person perspective “You” is used

WORD COUNT: 3359 words

WARNINGS: It’s like….. How to describe…. Angst in the beginning but then reader goes into their memories so it’s kind of fluff there but in short reader’s spending the holidays alone!

AUTHOR NOTES: haha ha aha hahaa CST timezone go brrr, most of this is written in a platonic sense (please read Xiangling as platonic 😭🫶, she’s like your younger sister in here) but can be regarded as romantic, but the feeling when I was writing this was reminiscing on friends when you spend the holidays alone

As the night of the year draws to an end, the cover of the night did little to shield you from everyone’s joys; joyous laughter fills the air as the hopes of new beginnings emerge. Families, friends, and people gathered amongst each other as they made their resolutions for the new year, putting their hopes and dreams into every word, wishing for what they desired. The celebration and festivities are celebrated with the warmth of others, never extinguishing as the holidays bring people together, in a way that wasn’t present before.

There were many things that occurred during the year, moments you cherished, moments you hated, moments you regret, and moments that you wish you never remembered; the year only seemed to never end as the passage of time seemed so incredibly unreal to you, one moment you were enjoying your simple childhood years, the next you had become an adult navigating the world in your own way. It flashed by so fast in the quick of an eye in hindsight, the days felt fleeting as though slipping through your hands without a second thought, without regard for your feelings.

Perhaps that’s what time is.

Once, in this room, a dining room full of chairs, lights hung up around the room, plates and cutlery set out for everyone before the meal; it was surreal to believe that this room was once used. Once a place to make memories was now left to sit in the dust. “Out with the old, in with the new”. You never really thought it would apply to you, the quiet whispers of the falling snow outside did little to help your current predicament.

Surrounded by the cold, there wasn’t another to warm you. Spending time with your friends was all that you needed, but as the years passed it was inevitable that they’d eventually find someone they wanted to spend their life with, it was not an “if” but rather a “when”.

With a solemn smile, you watch as others had made memories with each other, Kameras being used to capture the moments spent together; moments of time captured within a bottle, reminding the viewers of times when laughter was boisterous, of merry moments that made the passing of seasons seem a bit more joyful. Sometimes you looked back on these photos with fondness, tracing your fingers over them as though they would bring back memories of the living like they would warm the room that was laid to dust.

Always tracing their smiles, moving from person to person, hanging up photos in frames to cherish the importance of them; never once realizing that you were nothing but a ghost in the photos, always keeping the memories of others that your own never crossed your mind. Maybe one day, you’d be the center of one of these photos, maybe someone else for once could walk behind the Kamera and count down the seconds before the flash, maybe one day you could feel what it felt like to be engraved into the eternity of someone’s heart.

What wishful thinking.

A satellite is lonely, within the space and the stars that it climbs; in the space they orbit, nothing exists but emptiness. A longing for another, a longing to find someone that would make you understand why you had awoken to cards at your doorstep.

Cards that were cold to the touch, somehow enduring the cold as snowflakes melted into the material, the clumsy ink bleeding through the moisture, it was unmistakable for what was written on it,

Warmest Wishes,

Perhaps you began to understand why the alchemist preferred the solitude of the treacherous mountain, to the company of others.

Would it have been better to not have known such comforts at all? If so, then you wouldn’t be experiencing the strange feelings swirling within you, the endless thoughts surmounting within your mind, building on top of each other as if working to destroy you.

In the quiet house, you move like a ghost, never one to stay, always to wander, always to question your worth to others; the love that you gave was never reciprocated, for all you ever received was nervous smiles and the sudden urge to leave. Feelings were complex. One moment you wanted to be worth something to someone, to be so important that they wished to dedicate your identity to memory, knowing you like the back of their hand, like a map they were the cartographer of. A constellation that an astrologer discovered, caring for you as if you were their own, part of their soul that they adored, yet it only seemed like a useless endeavour.

Walking through the hall, memories came back to you in brush strokes, in carefully selected paints the artists chose, capturing the essence of life; it was your little walk through your memories that you’d rather not revisit.

But if you didn’t then how could you move on?

The first portrait was composed of a select few, yet prominent and influential people all the same. The traveller, with their companion, Venti, Diluc Ragnvindr, and Jean Gunnhildr. The small portrait was taken a while after the news of Dvalin being defeated was spread around, you could remember the cheers of the citizens like it was yesterday; echoing and deafening joy amongst the merchants, the relieved sighs of the Knights after the attack on the city came to its conclusion. You could especially remember the disappointment of the Adventurer’s Guild after the news was shared. Small giggles resounded within the hall as you reminisced upon your memories.

The traveller was unlike any you’ve ever known, both in their aptitudes and their floating companion; you could empathize with their longing for their sibling. For a moment, you felt your feelings warp into jealousy as you wonder if you’d ever experience someone missing you as much as they wished to reunite with their sibling. Your favourite memory of the traveller would have to be the moment you shared in a Sea of Dandelions. Originally you thought the place was only fictional, yet it seemed to bloom before your eyes, the glow of the flowers in full bloom as the ethereally beautiful traveller guided you with their hands for safety precautions. The memory hit you at full force, you could remember how their hair swayed in the wind, their unique clothing moving gently with the wind, and a smile as delicate as the fleeting first fall of snow. You remembered how their honeyed eyes stared back at you, expectedly waiting for you to take their hand as they urged you to take in the surroundings; it was funny that you always remembered them better than the landscape.

Next was Venti, you remembered the boisterous bard, it wasn’t like you could forget him anyways, his striking green clothing always sticking out in your memory. The notes he played on his lyre, and the faintest of moments when he’d let wisdom slip as words of both comfort and advice surrounded you like a blanket and a hot cup of cocoa on a winter day. You didn’t necessarily have a favourite memory with the bard, yet there was a moment that stuck out to you as you stared at his gaudy smile reflected in the portrait; it was like a cool breeze caressing your form as the lull of the wind at Windrise. The sun’s rays baring down on you, so the two of you sought shelter underneath the tree’s canopy. Venti made himself home on one of the branches of the tree, helping you get situated beside him; as he strummed his lyre you enjoyed the contented silence. Not a word was uttered, and for once, you felt right at home. With him and the wind by your side, it was a moment of peace and a moment of acceptance. In the full silence, you could not say you shared his pain, yet you understood more than words ever could. Perhaps that’s what music is for.

Diluc Ragnvindr was quite the imposing figure, always staying away from others, guarded like a fortress; never letting anyone in (yet not wanting to let others out either). The man, shielded in the cover of night would act as a vigilante hero, bringing safety to the citizens that he deemed the Knights incapable of doing, his red hair bringing your attention. At all times, he seemed so elegant and graceful in the way he composed himself, full of dignity and grace as he went about his day; with his admirers reeking of adoration for the man. Seeing the striking red paint threw you back to your memories, a night at the Dawn Winery was more peaceful than a night at Angel’s Share. It was a rare night, he didn’t have any urgent issues to attend to, and you spent a night of relaxation with your favourite beverage at your side. The quiet conversation was akin to whispers, yet it struck a child-like chord within you, it was not a business meeting, the Diluc that was so composed seemed to fall apart in front of you, the night passing by as a childish sleepover. Curiosity lingered in the air as you noticed the odd-looking vase, yet not pressing on in fear that he would once again reconstruct the walls you painfully tried to dismantle. In that moment, you felt nothing but gratitude radiate off of his actions, in the quiet “Thank you” and in the way he got up to make another cup for you.

Unlike Diluc, Jean Gunnhildr was a more friendly figure, more acquainted with the public, and more understanding of the Knights. If anything, you understood why Diluc had his reservations, but you were glad that Jean was the Acting Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius; yet you didn’t miss the constant pressure she was under. Endless work led to stressful nights, and unrestful fits of sleep that you knew she endured. Her blonde hair as healthy as ever, and the wisdom she shared on a daily basis reassured you of any doubts you may have had throughout your time with her. On the more reserved side, you enjoyed the moments of nostalgia you shared with her, wondering about your childhoods, thinking about the days when you had nothing to worry about; moments that you wished could’ve lasted forever. However it all stemmed from a night underneath the stars at the Knights of Favionus Headquarters, sitting on the cold stone wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience, yet spending it with Jean made it somehow bearable. It was late into the night, failed attempts at concealing your laughter after reminiscing on fond childhood memories, that you remembered how she had pointed out one of the shooting stars and hesitated before telling you to make a wish. The shy smile spread throughout her features as she looked up to the stars and with bated breath, hoped for her wish to come true.

The scene of the portrait was an odd one, drunken patrons present in the back, yet you couldn’t imagine it any other way, a painting of an eventful night in Angel’s Share echoed in your mind. The drunken bard, the annoyed bartender, a traveller, and a childhood friend gathered in one place, memories reflected in the enthusiastic round of cheers and applause as your time with them was drawn to an end.

Next, the portrait before you was of your friends in Liyue, as much as you would’ve liked to include Tartaglia within the painting you had a reasonable worry to fear that the others would be at his throat. It wouldn’t be a surprise, as each of them would protect the city they loved and guided for years, the city they watched over. Within the portrait, the somewhat formal atmosphere radiated off of it, Zhongli, Ningguang, Xiangling, and Xiao. You let your fingers hover over the painting, admiring the quick brushstrokes that did a fine job of keeping the atmosphere conveyed within its paints.

Like many citizens of Liyue Harbour would describe, Zhongli was nothing short of a gentleman according to old traditions, his knowledge of culture and of the years passed was fascinating. Despite his long tirades about culture, there wasn’t a moment that you would leave him without learning at least one new thing. One day, he had broken the routine (which was odd for a man so used to them). Remaining contented sipping tea in the comfort of his office at Wangsheng Funeral Parlour he listened and instead let himself be the one educated as he listened to your tales and woes of your life; all the ups and downs, all the moments where you had no one to turn to. The moments that you thought would never be spoken to someone, all found solace in him, and he kept your words as precious as a gem, and as treasured as much as they could be hidden within the crevices of his mind. While he stored your secrets in a place never to be seen, you busied yourself with remembering his appearance, the perfectly fitted suit, and the low ponytail he always wore, never seeming to escape from your mind. With eyes that shone like cor lapis within the shadows, you supposed that he wasn’t sought after just for his knowledge. A burdened sigh left his lips as you were snapped out of your trance as you were brought back to attention again, and with eyes that swirled with mirth, he asked you to continue your story. And late into the night, he was immersed with tales of your childhood, and of comforts that he was glad you had.

Lady Ningguang was another influential figure who was sought out relentlessly, for both admiration and malicious reasons. For you, however, she was a figure of dedication; a life of endless planning and preparation, there was only a steadfast admiration for her persistence. That’s probably why she had a geo vision. With Ningguang, there were moments of tension that were easily soothed by her, and her kindness towards you didn’t go unnoticed. If anything, it was what drew you to her more, and you gravitate around her like a spectator, watching her from the sidelines when she would make her appearance in public, or at social events. Yet nothing could compare to the moments before dawn that you shared together standing on the Jade Chamber. It was a magnificent sight that brought life within your dull world, the endless shades of dawn breaking across the horizon, painting the harbour in the magnificent glow of the first rays of the sun. The people below getting ready to start their day, and you watched in awe as merchants started unpacking their goods, and restaurants preparing their meals, in a city as busy as Liyue Harbour, there wasn’t a moment that you doubted their care for each other; in both fair transactions and the concealed smiles on their face as they started a brand new day. You had not known it then, but rather than looking at those below, Ningguang found a much better sight; your smile.

The famous chef, Xiangling made her appearance in the portrait, her endearing smile, and enthusiasm for food warmed your heart, much like she warmed your stomach with her amazing food. There wasn’t a single meal that she gave that left you unsatisfied, but rather than focusing on the food, the true delight was her presence; without much hesitation, she quickly became a dear friend to you. More like a younger sister, her passion warmed her heart, and you knew the moment that you saw a young girl dashing through the crowds, with a bob haircut and a red panda by your side, your day would be brightened instantly. Without fail, she brought joy to your days, as you did to hers, helping her look for ingredients quickly became a routine between you two for the time you were with them. It was difficult waking up at such odd hours in the morning, but you quickly became accustomed to it as seeing her enthusiasm for the day was enough to fully wake you. Once, there was a day that you had fallen ill, in hindsight it was probably due to the fact that you searched far beyond Liyue in search of ingredients, setting several steps within Dragonspine with Xiangling. Perhaps it was her pyro vision, but luckily she didn’t seem to be feeling any cold, unfortunately, you had taken the brunt of the journey heading back and had a cold. Without a doubt, you felt exhausted and too feverish to do anything, so for a day, you lay in your bed, refusing to get up except to refill your glass with water. The second day, however, in the comfort of your home, you awoke to Xiangling by your side, soup already prepared as she placed a towel on your head; with hurried apologies that you couldn’t make sense of, she began to spoon feed you the soup she made. Without a doubt it was delicious and already feeling better, you thanked her for her generosity.

The Vigilant Yaksha, known by many names to others, was Xiao to you. It took a long time to become someone that he considered a friend, but you never regretted the amount of time you spent befriending the man, more often than not, moments with him would be spent in silence since he was not a man of many words. It didn’t bother you though, just his presence was strangely soothing to you, and just having him by your side was all the reassurance that you needed. Although you wouldn’t be lying if you said that sometimes the silence was a bit awkward, when you fell into a routine with him, you found it much easier to decipher his silence and expressions. He wasn’t too fond of human food, yet he would eat any dish you gave him, as long as you gave him some time to finish it; although it seemed as though almond tofu remained his favourite. It took a while to convince Xiao to cook with you, the teal-haired adeptus expressing his inadequacy in the kitchen, but he relented to your countless reassurances. In the kitchen of Wangshu Inn Xiao impressed you with the dish he made, with all things considered it was a beautiful dish. The tofu looked almost perfect, and the presentation was appealing to the eye. With awe you regarded his dish, praising it, not noticing how he struggled to gain his composure without making his flushed state obvious. He shyly tried to look away, yet you had already voiced so much praise for him that all he could do was teleport away. Thankfully, within the hour, he returned with qingxin flowers, voicing his apologies.

The scene of the portrait was a rather odd one, taken within the mountains of Jueyun Karst, on Mt. Aocang an adeptus, funeral parlour consultant, the Tianquan, and a chef sit around a table that was once used for previous adepti meetings as indicated by the engravings on the table. The once eerie silence was filled with Xiangling’s enthusiasm that you couldn’t help but feel your heart get melted by. The gentlemanly yet knowledgeable Zhongli discussing matters with the Tianquan seemed too complicated for you to take part in, and the silent adeptus kept a watchful eye over the rest. With the stealth of a child trying to steal candy (in short, you really aren’t stealthy I’m sorry) you nudge the plate of almond tofu towards him, and you watch as the atmosphere relaxes.

The blissful memories come to a halt as you see two covered portraits down the hall, veiled in a black fabric, that the flicker of your candle can’t reach. Towards the end of the hall you see a door, locked with padlocks to ensure that no one could possibly get in. You watch as the memories you brought to the forefront of your mind leave with the smoke of the candle as the embers glow before your eyes.

To another year, trying to find a place to call home.

TAGLIST: @araranas @primojade

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