Not far ahead, the first thing that entered their sight was a thick, towering tree with lush green leaves. A gentle breeze drifted past, soft and warm, like an invisible hand brushing across their cheeks and hair.
Farmas narrowed his eyes, savoring the pleasant caress of the wind. For some inexplicable reason, his heart relaxed.
In the ancient war-torn kingdom of Munata, even the slightest breeze carried scorching heat. The wind there only made the flames burn fiercer—nothing like the winds of freedom that flowed through this land, soothing and comforting.
Swaying his body, Farmas enjoyed the breeze.
Before the great tree stood a Statue of The Seven, dim and dull, no different from an ordinary stone sculpture.
"Lumine, let's go."
Farmas spoke from within Lumine's arms.
"Mm."
Lumine jogged forward while holding Farmas, stopping directly before the statue.
"The statues of the Archons are scattered across the land—they represent the Seven protecting this world! Among the Seven Elemental Archons, this one governs wind. I don't know if he's the god you're looking for, but bringing you to the land of the Anemo Archon first definitely makes sense!"
Paimon floated ahead, acting as a guide.
"As everyone knows—language and poetry ride upon the wind! Somewhere in the breeze, your brother's message is sure to be waiting! …Probably. Anyway, whether the god will respond is something we'll only know if we try. So—start praying!"
Lumine nodded, gently setting Farmas down. She placed her hands together and closed her eyes in solemn prayer before the statue.
Her palms, still warm from holding Farmas, pressed against the stone. Instantly, the statue lit up with a soft sky-blue glow. Lumine felt something like a ribbon of wind coil around her body, making her movements lighter and more agile.
"I can feel it… Some kind of power?"
She turned to Paimon and the bouncing Farmas.
"Did you sense the elements of this world? Looks like as long as you touch a statue, you can obtain Anemo power!"
Paimon answered confidently.
"As long as you do not lose your nobility, the world shall open before you."
The words left Farmas' mouth as he stared at Barbatos' statue—a line spoken with unusual depth.
"Eh? Farmas, you…"
Paimon stared, pouting in surprise.
"Head west from here and you'll reach the city of freedom—Mondstadt. It's the City of Wind, dedicated to the Anemo Archon. There're tons of bards in the city too. Maybe one of them has heard news of your brother."
Farmas explained to Lumine, who was still gazing thoughtfully at the glowing statue.
"Hey! That's my line! Farmas!!"
Paimon snapped back to herself and only then realized her role was stolen by a slime who'd joined Lumine for less than half a day.
"I've got plenty more, Paimon—like, 'The worms ahead… we'll explore later—' "
"Stop! Eww! Farmas you're awful!"
Lumine could only smile helplessly at the bickering pair.
"Let's get going. If we don't hurry, we'll have to camp outside again."
"Hmph! I'm not arguing with a slime!"
With Paimon conceding defeat, Lumine picked Farmas up once more and headed west toward Mondstadt.
The three continued in silence.
"Lumine, if your arms are getting tired, you can put me on your wrist, you know."
After a while, Farmas noticed Lumine's breathing was a little uneven—seemed like he was getting heavy.
"It's fine, Farmas."
Lumine shook her head, which made Farmas sway gently against her chest.
"I'm not tired. Besides… you're way too big to fit on my wrist."
"Mm."
Even though the faint fragrance from Lumine was intoxicating, Farmas still tried to be a gentleman.
"I can shrink more. If I try, I can probably get down to palm-sized."
Before Lumine could react, Farmas' body began to compress, shrinking until he was barely half the size of her palm—light enough to hang from her waist like a trinket.
"I knew it! Farmas, you're totally after Lumine's body—ugh!!"
Paimon shouted accusingly.
"Paimon, don't say that… Farmas wasn't thinking about anything like that…"
Lumine's cheeks flushed pink. She defended Farmas with her words, but her mind wandered dangerously close to Paimon's imagination.
"Alright, alright—let's talk about something else."
Lumine sighed helplessly.
Farmas, now tiny, curled up on Lumine's forearm with only his eyes showing.
"Mondstadt is known as the 'Crown of the North,' the 'City of Winds,' and the 'City of Song.' Its people worship the Anemo Archon, and on the highest point of the city stands a giant statue of Lord Barbatos."
After a few minutes, Paimon recovered her energy and began enthusiastically explaining Mondstadt's history and her adventures with Lumine.
Soon, just before they left Whispering Woods—
"Hmm? I hear something…"
Paimon frowned.
"Let's take a look."
Lumine sensed an unusual fluctuation of elemental energy ahead.
The three crept behind a tree and peeked out.
"Waaah! What is that? Is… is that a dragon?!"
On the ground ahead lay a massive dragon covered in vivid teal scales, shimmering with flowing energy. Three pairs of wings spread from its back.
"It looks like the dragon we saw before."
Lumine whispered.
"You met it earlier?"
Farmas asked quietly.
"Yeah! The wind it kicked up almost blew us away!"
"So it really is him… the East Wind Dragon—Dvalin."
Upon hearing Paimon's answer, Farmas looked up—to see a boy in green, with emerald eyes, wearing a cloak and holding a green lyre.
"Barbatos…"
It was the very god Farmas had been looking for—Barbatos himself. Or, more casually, Venti.
Farmas was just about to call out to him, but seeing Venti locked in gentle eye contact with Dvalin, he swallowed the words back down.
He and Dvalin didn't have the best history… The war-forged country of Munata needed enormous amounts of weapons, and Dvalin's feathers were perfect for arrow fletching. Farmas had "borrowed" more than a few in the old days.
A scholar borrowing materials—how could that be called stealing?
"…Better wait until Barbatos finishes catching up with Dvalin before I talk to him."
He glanced at his slime body.
Protecting his own life was the wiser choice.