It began normally enough.
After a quick nap, I returned to the streets. Lute in hand and an easy smile on my lips, I found a spot by the streets and began to play. My music wasn't anything lavish—even with my Talent I could only do so much with a single lute—but the song I created was enchanting in its own right. People began crowding around me, and before I knew it another crowd had formed.
But unlike usual, I was approached by a militia guard before I could play another song. Thankfully, he simply complimented my music and told me to be careful tonight before he left. Seeing as I wasn't getting any complaints from the militia, I decided to continue playing.
I strummed my lute, playing song after song, all accompanied by my humming. The evening turned to night, but the excited crowd had yet to dissipate. Some had even bought some food before returning, eager to continue listening. The few kids that were there were especially excited, chanting for an encore whenever I finished a song. Naturally, I indulged their requests with a smile.
But some time later, a group of guards appeared. "You have been requested at the Golden Mint Stadium." The leader of the troupe said. Though he spoke of it as a request, it was clear that it was more of a demand than anything. I couldn't help but frown slightly as I heard so.
But before I could ask any further, the crowd around me gasped in delight, before congratulating me at the invitation. I blinked in surprise, unclear on the reason for their enthusiasm, or what the Golden Mint Stadium even was. Nevertheless, I apologized to the crowd and followed the guards away, not wanting to complicate things further by resisting.
The walk there was…uncomfortable. None of the guards spoke with me, and the people parted around us. Strangely, they didn't seem all that afraid for me—more awed and joyful than anything. It made me feel like this wasn't as bad as I was thinking it could be, but my gut told me otherwise.
My fears were proven true soon.
Because the so-called Golden Mint Stadium was the stadium. It was the place where the martial arts competition had been held, and it was the place where Guili's most lavish gatherings. The building itself was thrice the size of the building I stayed in, and built so high I could see it from even beyond the city walls.
"Lady Guizhong has requested your performance." One of the guards finally explained. "And in accordance with the great Lady, many now too call for your presence."
The subcontext wasn't hard to parse. This stadium was a place for the rich rich—certainly not something for a street musician like me. Which meant that the nobles of Guili would be my audience, alongside Guizhong herself.
Gulp.
I smiled as I silently grit my teeth. A well of anger and disgust rose in me at the thought of those pompous people. I hadn't seen them much since I first began living here, but just the noble I once saw walking the streets seemed like an absolute waste of space. Aah, and to think I would now become some strange attraction to them…!
I suppressed those thoughts as best as I could as I bowed to the guards. "Thank you for your time, good sirs." And before they could say anything, I went right in. My smile turned wry as I walked through the walls, lavishly lined with arts and all sorts of crafts. It felt as if I'd stepped into some museum or whatnot.
Then, I was stopped by a few handmaidens who led me to a dressing room. A foreboding sense of doom rose in me as I saw them, but they blocked my exit before I could leave.
Some horrifying amount of time later, I was finally let free. My usual, gender-neutral robes were instead replaced by a green flowing hanfu, fit for a female noble artisan. Strangely, the set of clothing I was presented with nearly matched the dresser I got my robes from—filled entirely with green. Though this time I could only wear robes fit for girls, I couldn't help but feel like Guizhong had quite a heavy hand here.
…yeah, thinking about it, wasn't this just an excuse from Guizhong to make me wear more feminine clothing?
I could only weakly chuckle as I walked to face my doom.
And now here I was, standing in an opulent stadium, watched by hundreds of nobles, with Guizhong seated at the very top. All of them watched me with bright eyes, no doubt eager to see if my skills could live up to their expectation. Perhaps some were already planning to buy me off like some sort of songbird.
Calm, Venti. Calm. This wasn't all that bad. I've gathered large crowds before. I've had dozens of people clap and cheer and ask for an encore when I played on the streets. This wasn't all that different. I just had hundreds of people this time, and instead of disappointment, the threat of having my neck chopped off hung over me instead. Not that different. No big deal. Mhm.
I took a slow breath, and giving my audience one last glance, I closed my eyes as I pondered. There were dozens of songs I've learnt, but none of them seemed fitting here. Not in this opulent space, and not with the worry and tensions rising within the people.
And more than anything, it had to be an ode. Both to Guizhong who waited with anticipation, and to Morax who bravely left to hold back the many demonic gods.
Then and there, a song came to my mind. Unlike the others, this one was incredibly clear. Its name, its lyrics, every strum of the lute I must do to recreate its melody—all of it perfectly recalled. My breath picked up slightly as the song passed through my mind; it was without a doubt the best fit for this situation!
I took a slow breath, and then gently, I began to play.
The audience quieted down, surprised by the somber melody I began playing. It was far unlike the usually jovial songs they were expecting. But it held that same enchanting melody they'd heard of, almost as if the air itself danced along with the strums of my lute's strings.
Guizhong's eyes went wide as she watched. Because she could clearly see it—the wind itself was dancing along to Venti's song. But the movements were slow, and somber. A waltz dedicated to the downed and weary. A balm to a scar that laid within one's heart.
Then, I began to sing.
My voice rang across the stadium, unimpeded in the slightest. Like a wind's bell, clinking to its lonesome as the winds blew past. I sang of what it means to fight, of what it means to be human. I sang of regrets, buried and carried. I sang of despair, and of hope.
I sang a song about the Weight of the World.
My eyes were closed as I sang, and so I didn't see the clear shock on the audience's faces. This was the first time I've truly ever sang, and many were enchanted by my voice. Whatever future plans they had were blown away as they were dragged into this moment, as if they were mere spirits drawn into a growing hurricane.
But it was the meaning carried within my song that truly anchored them. A song that truly, dearly refused to succumb to the weight of the world. No matter how much pain it carried, no matter how hopeless it seemed. Because this world wasn't meant to be upheld by a single person. Because even isolated, no one was truly alone.
No song lasted forever, though. And soon my song came to an end. The stadium descended into gentle silence for a few moments, before a thunderous applause rang. Some of the nobles even stood up from their seats, uncaring of their status after hearing the masterful performance I'd given.
My eyes remained closed through it all as I focused on maintaining my expression. Because as much as I played this song as an ode to Guili's two Lords, my chest felt tight as well. A deep well of sadness that'd been pulled from within my lungs, and now after the song had ended, it left my chest feeling raw.
I took a shuddering breath, before I stood and bowed. The nobles continued to clap.
Then, after the cheers finally ended, I continued playing. The rest of the songs I played were ones I'd learned locally, and though none carried the same immense weight as my first song did, the audience still enjoyed them to the highest degree.
By the time the whole performance ended, it was late into midnight, and I silently left before any of the nobles could get their grubby little hands on me. After all, I might've enchanted their hearts using my songs, but I knew that was far from enough to stop them from trying to get me.
Freedom was my calling, and I wouldn't let myself be tethered like that!
.
.
.
As the audience chattered amongst themselves, Guizhong had a somber smile as she gazed at the spot where Venti had stood just moments ago. She'd giggled when she saw him run out of the stadium like a frightened cat, but she understood. He wasn't used to the spotlight like others were; she wouldn't hold him here if he was that uncomfortable.
Besides, she'd finally seen Venti wear something aside from that boring robes of his. And oh was she glad she did! He looked so cute in those, and she could tell many in the audience thought the same. She wouldn't be surprised if Venti suddenly had many inviting mails sent to him by the next day.
But, past all that,
She hummed as she leaned into her seat. Normally, she'd have left the stadium once the performance ended, but this time she found herself waiting. That first song Venti had played—though her domain was not of songs and melody, she could still feel his intent. It was a gift, an ode to her and Morax.
It was the first time a mortal had done something like that. Gave them a gift that wasn't steeped in faith or prayer, but simply in gratitude, and in sorrow in realizing their duty. A reminder that even gods could not truly stand alone.
She hummed. "You've heard it as well, haven't you?"
And as if called, Morax stepped out of the shadows, having stood behind her. After all he'd told the people he was still beyond the walls. Not even he could've expected to defeat the demonic god so quickly. And yet his robes remained entirely clean, as if he hadn't just cleaved an entire mountainside in two just moments ago.
His amber eyes glowed with divine might as he too stared at the spot where Venti stood. "It was unique." He eventually said, but his voice was softer than usual. He too had felt Venti's intentions clearly, and he couldn't help but be moved. To be reminded that the world was not simply his to bear—that he had Guizhong and his adepti to aid him.
Guizhong giggled. "At least compliment him, Morax. After all," she leaned forward, her eyes gleaming. "His skills and luck could easily make him an adepti, right?"
He nodded. His mortal soul was unique even amongst Guili. He had seen none like it. A soul so unflinchingly bright, reminiscent of a newborn—untouched and unmarred by the lingering karma. If anything, it almost seemed as if the darkness that had steeped into the lands couldn't even graze his soul.
A mortal unchained by even fate.
Intriguing.
"Well, enough of that." Guizhong grinned as she took hold of his hand, and she laughed as she stood. "Come, Morax. Let us enjoy some tea, shall we?"
Morax hummed as he followed along.