The sky over Mondstadt was golden with the setting sun by the time the group returned. The wind that greeted them wasn't sharp like it had been atop Stormterror's Lair—it was soft, familiar, as if the city itself exhaled in welcome.
They walked side by side, not speaking much, yet held together by a quiet understanding. The weight of what they had seen clung to their boots. The wounds on their arms weren't just from blades or claws—they were the kind that lingered deeper.
Shops were shuttering, and the city began its gentle descent into night. Children chased each other beneath the drifting light of street lanterns, laughter ringing like windchimes. Venti strolled ahead, whistling a half-finished tune. Alice floated backward beside them, her coat flaring like wings, arms folded behind her head as if gravity had grown bored of holding her down.
Lumine walked quietly alongside Kiana, occasionally glancing at the girl as if weighing something in her mind. She, too, had noticed the growing change.
When they arrived at the Adventurers' Guild, the old wooden sign creaked in the breeze. Ellyn was still there, leaning on the counter, but she straightened at the sight of them. Her eyes immediately went to their expressions—tired, guarded, different.
"Stormterror's Lair, right?" she said after a beat, eyeing the faint blood on Kiana's gloves and the soot smudged along Noah's sleeve. "You look like you've run across a few legends."
"Something like that," Noah replied, handing over the commission tag. His voice was even, but his shoulders stayed tense.
Alice leaned over the counter, eyes wide and sparkling. "If you think that's impressive, you should've seen the part with the dragon echoes, corrupted winds, and a knight made of shadows. Very dramatic."
Ellyn blinked. "...Right."
She then accepted the commission tag from Noah wordlessly, jotting notes down before offering them their stamped parchment. Then she reached beneath the counter and pulled out a small pouch jingling with mora and a set of crafted badges bearing the Guild's emblem. "Here is your reward." she said, handing the pouch and badges to Noah.
Noah accepted them with a small nod, the weight of the pouch resting heavy in his hand—not from gold, but responsibility. "Thank you," he said.
He turned and passed a badge to each of them one by one—Kiana, Lumine, Elysia. Then he split the coin carefully, handing out shares with calm certainty.
Kiana blinked. "That's… a lot more official than I expected."
Elysia smirked playfully. "The captain's always prepared."
Alice chuckled from the side. "A true quartermaster in spirit, even if not in title."
Venti tapped his lyre gently, letting a few idle notes float between them. "Rest well tonight, friends. Tomorrow, we walk into frost. Meet me at the southern gate, just after sunrise. And bundle up—the wind down there forgets how to be kind."
He offered them a theatrical bow, then turned, vanishing into the alleyways like a note released into the sky. Alice lingered only a moment longer.
"Get some sleep, skyfarers. Tomorrow, we play with ancient bones."
She hovered at the edge of the streetlight for a few seconds more, gaze trailing Noah in particular. Then, almost too softly to hear, she added, "The winds change fast in Mondstadt. Enjoy the stillness while it lasts."
Elysia tilted her head. "Are you staying in the city?"
Alice grinned, wide and unreadable. "For now. I find myself drawn to… unfinished stories."
Lumine raised a brow, stepping slightly closer. "You're not leaving?"
"I'll linger. The winds feel different lately," Alice replied, her eyes flicking toward Kiana for a heartbeat before she turned away. "Stories are brewing. You'll see."
With that, she spun on her heel and sauntered off into the night, humming something old and off-key, as if she were the only one who remembered the tune.
—
Back at the inn, dinner was quiet. The clatter of spoons against bowls, the occasional exhale. Warm bread, rosemary soup, and a few flickering lanterns casting gold across the table.
Elysia watched the flames dance along the windowsill, humming an old lullaby. Kiana sat with her chin in her palm, barely touching her food. Lumine sat opposite her, equally quiet—pushing her soup around with her spoon, occasionally glancing up to study Kiana's face. She didn't speak, but her worry was plain.
Noah sat nearby, sipping quietly from a small ceramic cup of tea, the warmth rising in faint wisps. He ate slowly, methodically, savoring each bite of the bread and soup without saying much. His gaze would lift now and then—especially when Kiana stirred or fell silent too long—his expression calm but watchful, like someone always listening for echoes only he could hear. There was no need to speak; his presence alone was steadying.
The silence between them was not empty—it was heavy with thought. Lumine reached for her water, paused, and said softly to no one in particular, "She hasn't been the same since the Lair."
Neither Elysia nor Noah replied, but their eyes met, and that was enough. They had all seen the change.
Eventually, Kiana stood and slipped away into the courtyard.
She found herself under the lanterns—those floating orbs swaying in the breeze. Their light dappled the cobblestone like stardust, soft and far away. She hugged her arms around herself. Not from the cold, but from something far more familiar.
Elysia noticed her absence first. Then Noah. Then, quietly, Lumine.
Kiana didn't look back.
"It wasn't a dream," she said, voice low, almost a whisper. "That thing inside me... I heard her. Felt her. And it wasn't just fear." Her arms tightened around herself, voice beginning to shake. "It was... rage. She hates everything. The world, the people in it—me. It's like she's screaming from behind my eyes, waiting for a moment to tear through."
Her breath hitched. "She doesn't just want control—she wants to destroy. And I felt it. Not like a whisper, not like something distant. It was in my heartbeat. Like a second pulse trying to take over."
She looked up, eyes wide and frightened. "I've never felt hatred that deep before. Cold and cruel. Like a star that already burned itself out and wants to drag everything down with it. That's what's inside me."
Elysia stepped beside her, eyes flicking gently to the side as if trying to read what Kiana wasn't saying aloud. Her voice was soft, almost careful. "Kiana..."
Kiana exhaled shakily, her voice trembling now. "I've felt this way before—like there's something rotting beneath my skin. I tried to ignore it. Smile through it. But it's always there."
She turned slowly, eyes wide and wet. "What if that's why he left? My father. What if he knew what I was becoming? What I already was?"
Noah moved closer, his presence quiet but grounding. "He didn't leave because of you."
"You don't know that."
"I don't," he admitted. "But I know what I saw today. You ran toward danger. Not to conquer it—but to shield others. That's not something darkness teaches. That's something you chose."
Elysia gently placed her hand over Kiana's. "What's inside you doesn't get to define you, Kiana. Not when you've come so far. Not when you still have us."
Kiana blinked quickly, the tears finally breaking. "But what if I lose myself? What if next time… she takes over?"
"Then we pull you back," Elysia said firmly. "Every time."
Noah nodded, his voice quiet. "And if we can't... then we fall with you. But we don't let go."
There was a beat of silence.
Then Lumine stepped forward at last, her voice calm and thoughtful. "I don't fully understand what's inside you, Kiana. But I've seen enough to know it's trying to hurt you. That makes it our enemy. Not you."
Kiana looked between them, lip quivering. Then, without a word, she stepped forward and pulled them all into a tight hug.
The wind stirred again.
No more words were needed.
Above them, the stars turned slowly. Tomorrow, Dragonspine awaited with its buried secrets and frozen echoes.
But for tonight, they were whole.