|A Lone Adeptus| xiaoven

六

He motioned for me to sit in front of the fire, where mats with worn cloth were folded. "Do sit. Enjoying food while standing isn't ideal."

Plopping down with a huff, I continued to watch him cook. I didn't know why I felt so drawn to this human. I've been shown sympathy by mortals on rare occasions, though nothing of this sort. I could tell by his gestures and movements that he truly had no ulterior motives. A heart as pure as the white snow.

"Do you like onions or potatoes in your soup?" he asked, holding each of the sorts in his hands while looking at me.

I looked at him with a raised eyebrow before turning away to look out through the open wall. "Either or," I responded without thought. There was doubt I would eat all of the food as I was so picky with my meals, though I did appreciate his effort.

The bard continued, humming as he stirred the pot with a wooden ladle. Whatever tune he was humming, drew me into a trance. I gazed out at the snow-capped terrain, not a single disturbance besides the gentle breeze and the falling of snow.

I could hear him shift to sit next to me, handing me a wooden bowl with more wear than my battle-worn spear. "It should cool down fast since it's so cold," he said as he shivered, stirring his bowl of soup with care.

I eyed the soup, though not because I was worried it was poisoned, but because the potatoes he chose to put in the soup seemed old. "Do you not like soup?" he said, his empty bowl set off to his side.

Raising an eyebrow at him before looking back to the soup, I responded, "I don't like mortal food." I decided to be honest with him since he seemed to have not caught on I wasn't someone to be meddled with, not to mention invited to their camp to share a meal with.

He chuckled, getting up to rummage in his bag for something. "Then what do you like?"

What did I like? I thought about the question for a moment, looking at the soup with fixed eyes. "I don't know," I responded with honesty, glancing at him as he returned to sitting next to me. How his eyes did not change when speaking to me even as I relayed I wasn't human bewildered me.

He had that same unfaltering smile. Nothing seemed to irk him of his peppy mood. He held his lyre in his hand, plucking a few of the strings with a chuckle. "Would a song help you eat then?"

I looked at him as if he were crazy, though nodded. I didn't see how a song would coerce me into eating the soup, though if he offered, I wasn't going to turn down more of his kindness.

Clearing his throat, he began to strum the lyre with advanced hand motions. "Over the mountains and through the valleys, he pierces through the air to rain down, extinguishing the dangers of the golden town ."

Taking slow spoonfuls of the soup, I came to focus more on the words of this sung story, and the music. I've heard music played by many mortal instruments, though none were on par with this human's skill.

"Paving through the darkness for the choir and dance of the delicate, there are little who recall the great deeds of their advocate."

Before I noticed I was finished with the soup, I came to realize I was staring at the bard singing the story. He finished with a final line and string of rapid notes, "Through years of excruciating trial, only one remains after the vale. While the future of the lantern-lit leaves disperses behind their last eternal protector, the duties of the Vigilante Yaksha remain forever. If forever it may be his pain, so will certainty of the rain"

Once finished with the story, he set his lyre down on his lap, eyeing the empty bowl in front of me. "My music has never failed me, ehe. Did you like the soup?"

Caught in a daze, I blinked twice before responding. "It was fine."

It was silent before he spoke again. "Then what about the story? Did you like it?"

I looked back to the opening in the wall, watching the snow settle to form more layers of snow. The fire crackled in front of us, the gentle wind delivering snowflakes into the cave. It was peaceful.

"Did you make it up?" I knew this story was about me. Had he sung it on purpose after knowing my identity, or was it only a mere coincidence?

"No. He lives a story that only I can tell through song." He smiled again, though it seemed sad. Did I know him? I felt to have met him one way or another, though I couldn't recall ever meeting a Mondstadter, especially one like this odd soul.

It was silent again before I spoke, "What is your name, mortal?"

He looked at me, his mouth agape for a moment before a smile formed. "Venti. You can call me Venti."

I nodded, standing as I took hold of my weapon. "Thank you for your kindness, Venti."

Instead of dispersing as quick as a gust of winter wind, I stayed a moment longer to hear his response.

"What about you? What's your name?" he turned from where he sat, curiosity glowing in his eyes.

Just as I had no hesitation with Traveler, I felt comfortable enough to share. "Xiao," I glanced into his eyes. "Adeptus Xiao."

I then left along with the cold rush of wind. What disdain I had arrived with had somehow melted when I was met with that bard, just like when spring comes to melt the snow. A thought ran through my mind, irking me of the human emotions which had overwhelmed me. Would I see him again?