redinkbunny

[redinkbunny]

autumn leaves, autumn sorrows

(Part 2)

Xiao recognized him before he could even notice his presence.

It was the way the wind picked up, as if carrying the content of seeing their master; it was the way music accompanied him wherever he may go, a tune too subtle for mortal ears, but to Xiao, it was one of his favorite sounds.

“Hey there!” The Lord of the Wind called, waving the hand that wasn’t holding a bottle of wine. Such frivolities he occupied himself with, much like Xiao’s own master. (His master doesn’t view himself as such anymore. He said it himself, he had retired, but Xiao still couldn’t get used to the feeling of freedom, not when there’s still so much work to do and no one to replace him if he were to stop.) “You seem tense.”

“Lord Barbatos" Xiao bowed, respectfully. Once, Venti has said he didn’t need to carry all the formalities, not when it was only them. Xiao, however, argued he at least had to demonstrate his gratefulness for the one who saved his life and granted him power, even though Venti acted as it was nothing.

Which, considering he was a being of unlimited power and knowledge of past, present and future, it probably was.

“Just Venti, aren’t we friends already?” Venti complained, tapping his shoulder. He walked past Xiao and sat on the roots of a large tree, motioning for Xiao to sit in front of him. “We have shared wine and songs, aren’t those the most intimate things you can share with another?” Smiling came easy to Venti, Xiao wished he could smile at him as well.

“My lor—," Xiao bit his tongue. Venti’s smile faltered. Right, he should have gotten used to the idea of friends a few decades ago. “I have come here with a favor to ask.”

Venti opened the wine, though there wasn't any glass for him to pour the content into. He took a sip directly from the bottle.

“What is it I can do for you?” He asked.

“I believe I have lost a very important item on your territory. Though it isn’t that noticeable, and perhaps that is the reason why I failed to perceive its absence before, it is still something I should retrive.”

“What is it? I can help you search for it.”

Before Venti could finish, Xiao was already shaking his head.

“It’s not for others to touch," he tried to state it in the gentlest way possible. “A cloak of feathers, weaved from my fallen wings, made to mold itself on the body of anyone who wears it. A harmless item for me, but who knows what it may cause at the hands of a mortal," Xiao explained, while refusing Venti’s offer of wine. The idea of putting his mouth where the Lord has touched previously was unnerving, but he also didn’t enjoy the taste of alcohol.

“I see." Venti brings a finger to his chin. “How long have you lost it? Do you know where it was last put?”

Something in Xiao hesitated.

“Probably a decade or so. I am to believe it must be near the border, I vaguely remember defeating monsters that day.”

“Then why have you come ask me for my permission when you could have just looked for it on your own?” Venti bursted. His anger was mild, Xiao was used to dealing with this one — the hatred for pleasantries. “You’re free to do whatever you please, Xiao." Venti’s fingers extended themselves in his direction, taking Xiao’s face between them. “The wind will carry you wherever you may go, stars and clouds shall guide your way, the breeze has your back on whatever decision you take.”

It was different when Venti talked seriously. It reminded Xiao from another time, when he was only a young, barely illuminated beast and he saw an Archon for the first time, powerful and wise and mighty. Venti looks every bit of wise right now, save for the wine breath.

“Now go, fetch your cloak, I assume that’s the cause of your nervousness?”

Xiao cannot lie to an Archon, but he can omit some facts. For that reason, he nods, for the declaration was a semi-truth, and vanished with a gust of wind, as rapid as he appeared.

Venti sipped on his wine and wondered if his friend would ever change.

[redinkbunny]

There was a sense of familiarity in holding hands with Bennett that Ajax hadn't felt in a long time — the warmness and comfort were slowly melting his heart, making him smile as Bennett pulled him along the pumpkin patch.

“Isn’t this place awesome? I used to come here with my dads every year”, Bennett laughs, pointing at the pumpkins as if they’re old acquaintances. “Fischl once asked us to pile them up and build a throne for her, it was the funniest aernoon ever.” His eyes were gleaming with excitement, old memories resurfacing and making him sound younger, the teenage boy he was supposed to have been. "Am I talking too much?” He asks hesitantly, turning back to face Ajax.

“No.” Ajax takes both of his hands to cup Bennett’s face, snuggling his nose in a clear sign of affection. There was it, the embarrassed laugh that he so much adores. “I love hearing you talk, sweetpie”, he murmurs, hot breath against Bennett’s cold face, making him giggle softly. “Tell me more, I want to hear all about your autumn traditions.”

The way Bennett lightens up wasn’t supposed to make his heart jump even more, but it did, and Ajax realized he could fall in love with him again every moment, every second, as long as Bennet keeps being himself.

[redinkbunny]

autumn leaves, autumn sorrows

(Part 1)

Once, there was a bird. It perched on the balcony of his bedroom and watched over him all night, its glowing, yellow eyes piercing through the darkness much warmer than any human eye ever glanced at him.

Every night, the same dark bird. Bathed in starlight just as any creature that belonged in the wild, bright and free, fierce and strong like he wished to be one day.

Young Diluc was enamored by it, by the way its feathers shone and its beak opened just the slightest as if to mimic the way one would mouth some words. He wondered what kind of words that bird would say, or sing, or chirp. He wished to get up and join it on the balcony, bask in the moonlight and caress its soft fluff.

One night, Diluc waited outside of his room, sat outside with the pale glow of a candle by his side. For all he waited, the bird had not come that day, so Diluc fell asleep, unaware of how the cold embraced his small body and almost made him sick.

A cloak of feathers dawned upon him, but the child was too deep in the land of dreams to notice, and, when he awoke, only the feeling of gentle warmth remained.

The following days, the child tried to wait on the bird, but it never again came to visit him.

As a result, Diluc went back to his usual routine, sleeping on his bed at a reasonable hour instead of staying awake to get a glimpse of an animal which, according to his own memory, started to as nothing more than a child’s dream.

However, sometimes he’d still feel the soft touch of feathers, as if a warm, big cloak was embracing him at times when the weather is too cold or his worries cloud his mind, impeding his rest. Diluc doesn’t think much of it, and soon, just as every good thing on his life, one day the sensation faded, never to be felt again.