A lost friend's journey

Chapter 8

On a particularly hard morning, Venti woke up with a stinging, horrible pain in his chest that had him doubling over and almost falling from the tree he was perched on, eyes and teeth clenched, tears threatening to spill. He felt his skin burning, hot flames going from his fingertips all the way to his heart which he gripped desperately, wondering absent-mindedly if it would stop beating from the sheer pain his body was going through. He had trouble thinking straight, all his boiled mind could register was pain. Pure, hot pain. Like knives were being put in his arm, piercing his bones and going out the other way. He felt like he was suffocating. 

It seemed to him that hours had passed before he finally started to feel the burning diminish little by little, before he finally calmed down enough to open his eyes and breath normally again. He laid there a few more minutes, staring in front of him at the leaves but not really seeing them.

He knew exactly what was happening to him.

Durin's corruption was getting to him.

Letting his gaze fall dawn to his hand, he immediately noticed the faint but nonetheless present purple vein that went up from one of his bandaged fingers all the way to inside his sleeve.

He was scared of what he would find if he tried to see under it.

Venti laughed bitterly at his own predicament. As if fate wasn't cruel enough already, he had to manage to get himself corrupted by coming in contact with the very same being he killed thousands of years ago.

He wanted to scream into the void, shout at the world that cursed him as soon as he was born. The only somewhat reassuring thought he could think about was that soon, they would either get killed or they would miraculously find a way to truly overthrow Celestia and he would be able to go into slumber again.

He never liked this. For the two thousand years he had been around, he spent at least three quarters of them sleeping, unaware of the way Teyvat was changing, of all the things that were happening in Mondstadt. And the worst was probably the fact that he always awoke in a time of crisis... First had been the Archon war, then Mondstadt's tyranny, and more recently Dvalin's corruption... Just when would he ever get some time to truly enjoy spending time with his people without having to think about the heavy weight she had put on his shoulders, they all... had put on his shoulders...

It pained him to have to leave Mondstadt once again. He hated it. He never had any control of how much time he slept, and he had no way of knowing what was happening in his beloved nation. He could only be glad for Mondstadt's independence to him and hope they wouldn't let tyrants rule them once again. Despite himself, he smiled. He was confident that if such a thing were to happen, the Knights of Favonius wouldn't allow it. They would fight until Mondstadt was free once again. This time around, he wasn't all alone.

Slowly, carefully and with the help of gentle winds, Venti got down from the tree.

Today was the Weinlesefest. Surprisingly, even the thought of the wine didn't raise his spirits up. Too many things were happening at the same time. His mind was constantly thinking about the complicated situations he somehow managed to land himself into. And the pain... It was slowly getting worse. The faint purple that had spread from his fingertips had now darkened a bit and went all the way to his elbows. Not for the first time, he was glad for his long sleeves, hiding the ugly marks of corruption to the world, but also to himself.

It had turned out that his burnt fingers were just early signs of the corruption that had quickly spread.

.

.

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Murata... wasn't feeling so good. For some inexplicable reason, she had a queasy feeling in her stomach, like she knew something would go wrong today, like the day wouldn't go in her favor.