The afternoon breeze blew gently through the cracks in the stone walls, carrying the scent of dust and old memories that had long since faded. The old church stood in silence, a monument abandoned by time—until today.
Venti stepped through the creaking oak doors, a bright smile etched on his face as if he had just returned from a spring picnic rather than a negotiation with the Ganesha Familia. In his hands, several bags of supplies swung in rhythm with his light footsteps.
"I'm hooome~!" he called out in a musical tone.
In the center of the gloomy hall, Alfia stood frozen. her sharp gaze swept over Venti from head to toe before shifting to the pile of materials he had set on the dirty marble floor.
"You took forever," Alfia commented flatly, her voice echoing in the vast, empty room. "And what is that? You brought wood and nails, but where are the carpenters?"
Venti chuckled, a sound reminiscent of wind chimes. "Carpenters? Oh, my dearest Alfia, why would we need strangers when the Anemo God is right here?"
Without waiting for a reply, Venti snapped his fingers.
Instantly, the atmosphere inside the church shifted. The wind no longer blew wildly; instead, it danced to the bard's will.
"Let the wind lead!"
Currents of teal-colored air swirled gently, lifting the wooden planks, nails, and newly bought drapes. Alfia, who was not easily impressed, widened her eyes slightly as she watched the nails glide into the joints of broken furniture on their own, hammered in by precise bursts of air pressure.
On the roof, shifted tiles flew back into place, sealed by cement mortar mixed and applied by invisible hands of wind. The holes that had let sunlight pierce the floor were now tightly sealed. Church pews that had been crooked and rotten now stood straight, their surfaces sanded smooth by the friction of micro-winds.
In less than ten minutes, the church that had looked like a haunted house was transformed into a habitable dwelling. Simple, yes, but clean and sturdy.
Venti placed his hands on his hips, wiping imaginary sweat from his forehead. "Phew! Exhausting work. What do you think?"
Alfia looked around. No more dust. No more sound of wind howling through wall cracks. "You... are actually useful for a god who looks like he only knows how to get drunk."
"Ehe! I'll take that as a compliment," Venti winked, then reached into his side bag. He pulled out a clear glass bottle filled with a purplish liquid that sparkled under the light of the newly installed magic lamp.
It was Soma Wine.
"Now, time for a reward for the hard worker!" Venti exclaimed, his eyes shining brighter than when he was fixing the roof.
That night, beneath the now-intact church ceiling, Venti uncorked the bottle of Soma. A sweet, intoxicating aroma immediately filled the room—a scent rumored to make humans lose their minds in ecstasy. But for Venti, it only reminded him of festival days in Mondstadt.
He poured a small amount into a wooden cup. Alfia rejected the offer with a firm shake of her head, choosing to eat her ration of bread for dinner in the corner of the room.
Venti took a sip. His eyes closed. The sweet taste of the divine fruit exploded on his tongue, followed by a warmth spreading through his entire body, similar to the feeling of basking under the Windrise Tree.
"Hmm..." Venti let out a long sigh. "Smooth texture, an aftertaste like forest honey, and the alcohol... oh, it kicks politely. Not as good as Diluc's Dandelion Wine aged for ten years, but by this world's standards? It's incredible!"
The night passed with Venti humming ancient ballads, while Alfia listened in silence, secretly enjoying a warmth she hadn't felt in a place called 'home' for a long time.
Morning greeted Orario with the hustle and bustle of merchants and adventurers. However, for the gods, today was a slightly more special day. The day of the Denatus—the banquet of the gods.
Venti stood before a cracked mirror he had polished. He straightened his green cape, adjusted his beret, and made sure the Cecilia flower on his hat looked fresh. In his hand, Ganesha's gold invitation glittered.
"I'm off, Alfia! Watch the house, okay?"
"Don't cause trouble," Alfia replied from the makeshift kitchen. "And don't come home being carried."
"No promises!"
Venti dashed out, letting the wind carry him toward the Tower of Babel looming high in the city center.
The Denatus banquet hall was located on a high level of Babel, a magnificent hall with a gigantic round table surrounded by intricately carved chairs. Food and drink were served in abundance, and the air was thick with overlapping divine auras.
When Venti stepped inside, conversations in the room didn't stop instantly, but there was a palpable pause. Dozens of pairs of eyes shifted to him. A new face. New energy.
"Oh my, oh my? Who is this sweet little kid?"
The voice came from a goddess with fiery red hair tied in a ponytail, her narrow eyes radiating a mischievous cunning. Loki. She leaned back casually in her chair, a glass of alcohol in hand.
Venti bowed theatrically, in the typical style of a street bard. "Greetings! I am Venti, a bard who just arrived in this beautiful city. Pleased to meet you, Goddess of Trickery."
Loki grinned widely, baring her teeth. "A bard, huh? And you know who I am? Interesting. You look like a gentle breeze, Kid. But for some reason, my instincts tell me you could be a storm if you wanted. Are you a boy or a girl, by the way?"
"Hmm, who knows?" Venti answered mysteriously with a wide smile. "The wind has no form, does it?"
The answer drew laughter from several gods. Loki snorted in amusement, clearly liking the new kid's boldness.
Venti walked further into the room. He felt a heavy gaze fall upon him. Not a curious gaze like Loki's, but a gaze that stripped him bare.
He turned and locked eyes with a silver-haired goddess whose beauty defied human logic. Freya.
The Goddess of Beauty did not smile. Her silver eyes stared straight at Venti, or rather, into Venti's soul.
What color does she see? Venti thought casually.
To Freya, Venti was an anomaly. His soul wasn't like other gods' pure gold or humans' multicolored hues. Venti's soul was a brilliant turquoise, shining yet transparent, vast and boundless like the sky itself. Ungraspable, unpossessable.
"You..." Freya murmured softly, her voice like silk. "You have a 'color' I have never seen before. So free."
"Freedom is expensive, Beautiful Lady," Venti replied lightly, not the least bit intimidated by Freya's charm, which usually brought other gods to their knees. "And I have no intention of selling it."
The corner of Freya's lips lifted slightly. "We shall see."
Breaking away from Freya's intensity, Venti walked toward the buffet table. There, a goddess with an eyepatch was examining a decorative sword on the wall.
"Hephaestus, right?" Venti greeted.
The smithing goddess turned. Her face was stern but professional. "Correct. You're the new god Ganesha talked about? Venti?" She glanced at the wooden lyre hanging at Venti's waist. "Your instrument... the wood is ordinary, but the structure is unique. It can channel mana very efficiently."
"Oh? Sharp eyes!" Venti plucked his lyre string gently, producing a clear note. "This is Der Frühling. My old friend."
"Practical," Hephaestus commented briefly, but her tone implied approval. "If you need weapon repairs—or instrument repairs—come to my shop. But I don't give discounts, even for fellow gods."
"I'll keep that in mind!"
Not far from there, a goddess radiating a warm, motherly aura was arranging fruits. Demeter smiled gently when she saw Venti approaching.
"My goodness, you look so young," Demeter said, offering a fresh red apple. "You must need nutrition. Eat up. This is the best harvest from my Familia's garden."
Venti accepted the apple with sparkling eyes. He took a bite—a crisp crunch echoed. "Sweet! Aaah, this reminds me of apples from Mondstadt. Thank you, Goddess of Harvest! You remind me of... well, someone who also likes tending to plants, though she's much smaller than you." Venti thought of Nahida for a moment.
"Eat plenty," Demeter chuckled. "Orario can be a harsh place for a god who looks as soft as you."
"Don't worry, I'm quite good at running away if things go south!" Venti joked.
Then, a god with a feathered hat and a suspiciously friendly smile slid up next to Venti. Hermes.
"Hello, hello! Wow, I finally meet you," Hermes draped an arm around Venti's shoulder as if they were old friends. "Ganesha said you came out of nowhere. No records in Heaven, nobody knows you. You're a walking mystery, aren't you?"
Venti brushed Hermes' hand off with a smooth motion, as if dancing. "The world is vast, Hermes. There are still many songs unsung and stories unrecorded."
Hermes narrowed his eyes behind his smile. As the god of messengers and travelers, he knew everything. Ignorance of Venti's origins bothered him, while simultaneously making him very interested. "You have a silver tongue. I like that. We should drink together sometime. I have many stories about 'heroes' you might like."
"Sure, as long as you're buying!"
As Hermes moved on to bother another god, Venti's gaze fell on a figure sitting somewhat isolated at the edge of the round table. A goddess with dark hair and an aura of justice that was calm yet seemingly lonely.
Astraea.
Venti's heart beat a little faster. Not out of fear, but out of a strange guilt.
In the original timeline of this world—or at least in the story known—Astraea should have had a powerful Familia. Alise Lovell, Gojouno Kaguya, Lyra, and of course, Ryuu Lion. They were tragic heroes of justice.
But right now, Astraea was still alone. She hadn't recruited them yet.
Venti took a deep breath. Forgive me, Goddess of Justice. But those children... Alise, Kaguya, Ryuu... I cannot let them meet a tragic fate under the Juggernaut. I will take them. First come, first served. But I promise, they will still be heroes, just... in a freer way.
Venti approached Astraea.
"Is this seat taken?" he asked politely.
Astraea looked up, slightly surprised anyone addressed her. Most gods avoided her because of her rigid nature regarding justice. "Please. You are Venti, correct?"
"That's right," Venti sat down, looking at Astraea with a sincere smile he rarely showed. "You look like you're contemplating the weight of the world."
"Just thinking about the order of this city," Astraea answered honestly. "There is still much injustice in the dark corners of Orario."
"Justice without power is just a dream, but power without justice is a nightmare," Venti murmured, quoting a philosophy from who knows where. "You will find your swords, Astraea. People who share a heart like yours. It's just that... perhaps fate will take a slight turn this time."
Astraea looked at Venti in confusion. "What do you mean?"
"Just a bard's prophecy!" Venti laughed, changing the subject. "By the way, you have to try this apple pie."
Their interaction was cut short when a blonde god with an elegant and friendly aura raised his glass in the center of the room.
"To the arrival of our new colleague, and to the prosperity of Orario!" the god exclaimed.
Dionysus.
All the gods cheered and raised their glasses. Venti raised his as well, but the smile on his lips didn't reach his eyes.
When their gazes met, Venti felt something tickle the back of his neck. Not a pleasant breeze, but something... foul.
Behind Dionysus's friendly smile and handsome face, Venti's senses—accustomed to detecting the corrosion of demon god remnants and Abyssal poison—caught a faint, repulsive scent.
The scent of betrayal. The scent of madness tightly concealed behind a mask of sanctity.
Ah... so it's him, Venti thought, his eyes narrowing for a split second before returning to his cheerful expression. Enyo. The Destroyer of Cities.
Dionysus smiled at him, a perfect smile of friendship. Venti returned it with a smile just as wide.
Interesting, Venti thought as he sipped his wine. It seems Orario is a stage far more complex than the theaters of Fontaine. There are sleeping dragons, roaring lions, and snakes hiding behind grapevines.
"HEY EVERYONE! I AM GANESHA!"
Ganesha's booming shout broke the subtle tension. The Elephant God stood on the table in his iconic mask.
"Today's main event at the Denatus is not naming! It is an official welcome! Venti, get up here! Show us what the God of Wind and Song can do!"
Venti set down his glass. He stood up, his green cape fluttering even though there was no wind in the room. He glanced at Loki grinning, Freya observing, Hermes curious, Astraea hopeful, and Dionysus waiting.
"Alright," Venti strummed his lyre, creating a note that made the entire room vibrate gently. "Let's get this show started."
This was Barbatos's first step in conquering the hearts—and fate—of Orario.