The uproar caused by the Abyss's invasion gradually faded from people's daily lives.
In the plaza, children raced across the cobblestone paths, their playful shouts echoing against the distant city walls.
Only those truly rooted in Mondstadt understood that some voids could never be filled.
On the wall beside the fountain, the snow-haired girl no longer leapt down at dawn, bathed in the morning light. The path to the Cathedral now echoed with fewer lighthearted footsteps.
The nuns, carrying watering cans, tended to the flowers and plants around the Cathedral as usual.
As their footsteps passed the narrow alley half-concealed by climbing vines, both women instinctively slowed their pace.
A faint scratch remained on the cobblestones at the alley's entrance.
It was a mark left when Lydia, then seven years old, had secretly slipped out to play with Amber, accidentally tripping and scraping her knee.
Back then, she had rubbed her knee, tilted her head back, and stuck her tongue out at Grace, who had come chasing after her: "Sister Grace, I was only out for a little while..."
Grace reached out, gently stroking the cool cobblestones, as if trying to touch the lingering warmth of the girl's past.
Gotelinde stood beside her, silently reaching out to straighten the crooked vine at the alley's entrance. The verdant vine coiled around the old scratch, as if guarding the girl's last childish secret.
In the clearing behind the Cathedral, the simple wooden cross had long been replaced by a towering white stone monument erected by the Favonius Knights.
Engraved on the monument's front in gilded characters were the words "Lydia, Guardian of Mondstadt." Sunlight bathed the monument in a gentle, warm glow.
Lumine approached the monument, cradling a freshly picked bouquet of Cecilia flowers still damp with morning dew in one arm and a carefully held painting in the other.
She placed the flowers on the stone platform before the monument, then slowly lowered the painting—a tender scene of Lydia and Klee sleeping soundly in each other's arms, rendered by Albedo's hand.
"Lydia, I've come to see you," Lumine murmured, her voice tinged with wistful nostalgia. Her fingertips brushed softly against the girl's cheek in the painting.
Soft footsteps sounded behind her. Turning, Lumine saw Venti standing in the shadows nearby.
He held a familiar black longsword—Lydia's Festering Desire. The blade had been polished to a flawless shine, even the intricate patterns on the hilt were clearly visible.
"Traveler," Venti stepped forward, extending the Festering Desire toward Lumine. His eyes swirled with complex emotions: remembrance, regret, and a subtle hint of tenderness. "This sword... it should be in your keeping."
He paused, his gaze drifting toward the distant snow-capped mountains, as if recalling something. A faint smile curved his lips.
"Lydia was a wild child from the start, always talking about traveling the world to find her parents. Now that she's gone with them, you continuing your journey with this sword will be like fulfilling her dream of seeing the world."
Lumine reached out and took Festering Desire. The hilt still held a faint warmth, as if she could still feel the girl's strength lingering there.
She nodded firmly, her eyes rimmed with red. "I'll take good care of it. I'll never let it gather dust."
"No matter what country I visit, I'll keep it with me, just like... just like Lydia's still by my side."
Lumine's gaze unconsciously drifted to Venti's waist, where his Vision hung quietly, its light extinguished.
It was Lydia's memento.
Lumine's throat tightened slightly, and she silently averted her gaze.
As if sensing her gaze, Venti gently touched the Vision at his waist. The icy coldness softened the emotions in his eyes. "Don't be too sad. She's just found a different way to stay with us—the wind will carry her thoughts and memories across every inch of Mondstadt."
"Oh, that reminds me!" Venti suddenly changed the subject, a familiar mischievous glint flickering in his eyes. "Liyue's annual Rite of Descension is about to begin. You're just in time for the festivities. Why don't you go take a look?"
"Liyue's Rite of Descension?" Paimon popped out from behind Lumine's shoulder, her curiosity piqued. "What's Liyue's Geo Archon like? Is he a slacker like you?"
Venti chuckled, reflexively uttering his signature "Ehe."
"What does 'Ehe' even mean?! Don't change the subject!" Paimon glared, demanding an answer.
Seeing Paimon's puffed-up cheeks, Venti couldn't help but laugh, abandoning his playful teasing.
"Liyue's Geo Archon, Morax, is a god who deeply values contracts."
"At each year's Rite of Descension, he descends to issue divine decrees, guiding Liyue's development for the coming year."
"Wow! He sounds way more reliable than you!" Paimon nodded emphatically, not missing a chance to tease. "Unlike some gods who just drink all day and can't be bothered to care!"
Venti didn't argue, simply shaking his head with a smile. "But we do have something in common."
"If Lydia was like a daughter I watched grow up from childhood, Morax also had a girl he raised from a young age—a real firecracker."
"In some ways, she's even more mischievous than Lydia."
"What? The Geo Archon has a daughter?" Lumine and Paimon's eyes widened in unison, their faces etched with shock.
In their minds, the Geo Archon was a figure of solemn dignity—how could he possibly have such a mischievous child?
"Well, half-daughter, maybe?" Venti shrugged, deliberately being cryptic. "You'll have to go to Liyue and see for yourselves."
He glanced at the sky, took a few steps back, and waved. "Alright, I have matters to attend to. Excuse me for now."
With those words, his figure dissolved into a gust of wind, vanishing into the horizon in the direction of the breeze, leaving behind only a lighthearted remark: "Give my regards to Morax—tell him his 'little trouble' is far less troublesome than my 'little knight'!"
Lumine and Paimon exchanged a look, both their eyes brimming with anticipation.
Lumine tightened her grip on Festering Desire, then glanced at Lydia's name carved on the stone tablet. Softly, she murmured, "Lydia, I'm going to Liyue now."
"When I return, I'll tell you all about Liyue."
With that, she and Paimon turned and walked away.
The setting sun stretched their shadows long across the ground. The hilt of Festering Desire glimmered faintly in the sunlight, like the girl's resolve... accompanying them on their new adventure.
-
The scene shifted.
In Dragonspine's Wyrmrest Valley, the icy wind continued to howl, whipping snowflakes against the rock walls with a rustling sound.
Albedo stood beside a massive boulder outside the cave, the Cinnabar Spindle clutched in his hand, his gaze fixed on the cave's depths.
There, Durin's heart lay undisturbed in its original location, shrouded in an unsettling black miasma.
A gust of wind swept through, and Venti's figure materialized from the gale.
Gone was his usual smile; his eyes now burned with a murderous intent.
He roared into the cave, his voice piercing the icy wind, causing snow to cascade from the cliffs: "Hiding in there for so long! It's time to come out!"
No sooner had his words faded than the heart within the cave began to pulse violently.
The sound echoed through the empty chamber, and the black miasma surged from the heart's surface, coalescing into a sinister dark figure on the ground.
The figure exuded a bone-chilling Abyssal aura as it halted in the cave's center, emitting a piercing screech that seemed to answer Venti's challenge.
Albedo tightened his grip on the Cinnabar Spindle, Elemental Power beginning to coalesce: "The Abyss... what exactly did they do with my notes?"
Venti summoned the Skyward Harp to his hand, its strings crackling with concentrated Anemo energy. "I don't know, but they've targeted Mondstadt and killed Lydia. They won't leave this place alive."
Facing the fully unleashed might of Venti and Albedo, the dark figure showed no sign of panic. Instead, it let out a piercing, shrill laugh that felt like countless needles stabbing the eardrums.
"Anemo Archon Barbatos," the figure rasped, "you're searching for that snow-haired girl... and the souls of her parents, aren't you?"
Venti froze mid-motion, the killing intent in his eyes instantly replaced by shock. His breath hitched.
Ever since he'd rushed to Lumine's side, he had known everything: the Abyss's imprisonment of Lydia's parents' souls, Lydia's communication with them, her acquisition of a Vision...
In recent days, he couldn't shake the feeling that the girl who had laughed and joked with him, the girl who had protected Mondstadt even as she faded away, shouldn't have simply dissolved into dust carried by the wind.
Yet no matter how meticulously the "wind" searched, not a trace of Lydia's or her family's souls could be found, as if they had never existed at all.
He hadn't even told Lumine about this, only vaguely mentioned it to Dvalin while drunk.
Dvalin would never betray his trust, and Venti himself would certainly never reveal it to others.
He never imagined this Abyssal Dark figure would expose the truth so bluntly.
"How did you know?" Venti's knuckles turned white as he gripped his bow tightly, his voice strained with suppressed fury. The Anemo energy coalescing on the bowstring intensified, almost solidifying into a tangible form. "Did you hide her soul again? Or did you turn her into something like her parents...?"
The dark figure let out a low, mocking laugh. Abyssal Black Miasma twisted into a grotesque vortex on the ground, and within it flickered glimpses of Lydia's childhood self—that little girl secretly wiping away tears in the Cathedral.
"Hide?" The figure's voice dripped with disdain. "We have no time for such petty schemes."
"It's only natural you can't find her soul. After all, her fate has been bound to the Abyss's reincarnation cycle since the day she was born."
"Reincarnation?" Albedo stepped forward, the tip of the Cinnabar Spindle pressing against the ground as Geo energy spread beneath his feet. "What are you talking about? How is Lydia's fate connected to the Abyss?"
"The cycle has only just begun..." The dark figure's voice suddenly softened, yet carried an unnerving, hypnotic quality.
Countless fragmented images materialized within the Abyssal Black Miasma: ghostly scenes of Lydia embracing her parents amidst fields of flowers, and visions of the seven Statues of The Seven gradually losing their light as they became entwined with Abyssal Black Miasma.
"After the Seven Cycles, the true Abyss will descend upon Teyvat. At that time..." It paused, its voice brimming with smug satisfaction, "...Lydia will become her true self."
Its tone shifted abruptly, becoming eerily seductive, as if dangling bait: "If you wish to see that girl resurrected, guard this ownerless Vision well."
Venti instinctively reached for the Vision at his waist—the once-radiant orb now hung there silently, its light extinguished.
The moment his fingertips brushed against the Vision's icy shell, he felt a faint current of Anemo Power stirring within, as if something were gently responding to his touch.
"Resurrected?" Venti's head snapped up, his eyes blazing with urgency.
He was about to demand, "How can she be resurrected?" and "What does the Vision have to do with it?" when the scene before him froze his words.
The dark figure at the center of the cavern was gradually dissolving.
Only a final, feather-light whisper remained, drifting like a feather to their ears: "Guard the Vision well. When the next cycle begins, we shall meet again..."
Silence descended upon the cavern, as if everything that had just transpired were nothing more than a bizarre hallucination.
Venti stood rooted to the spot, his hand clenching tightly around the Vision at his waist.
He turned to Albedo, his voice trembling imperceptibly—a mix of anger, worry, and a flicker of hope he couldn't bring himself to admit. "Did you hear what it said? It claimed... Lydia might be revived."
Albedo nodded. "Seven cycles of reincarnation... the Abyss descending..."
"If Lydia's death counts as one cycle, then... similar tragedies might unfold six more times."
Venti lowered his gaze to the Vision in his hand. The faint Anemo energy still flowed gently within it, as if Lydia were silently comforting him.
He took a deep breath and stowed away the Skyward Harp. "The tragedy of Mondstadt will never be repeated. No more sacrifices will be made."
"I will crush the Abyss's schemes, find Lydia's soul, and bring her... and her parents back. This is my promise to her, this is... the vow of the Anemo Archon."