"Calm down, Rosalyne. As a harbinger, you must remain rational at all times."
Shajin's voice was calm and composed. He lightly brushed the ice shards from his coat, as if using the gesture to signal tranquility.
His gaze landed on Rosalyne with a faint, nearly imperceptible hint of concern.
Rosalyne's breathing was ragged. She tried to steady herself, but the rage in her eyes blazed like a lit fuse, impossible to extinguish.
Ice spikes once again formed in her hands, each one sharp as a blade and glinting with a piercing chill.
"Rational? How do you expect me to stay rational?!"
Her voice was nearly a roar, every word squeezed out between gritted teeth, burning with fury and frustration.
"I need this lyre to find Barbatos!" she snapped, her voice laced with urgency and resentment. To her, the lyre was her last hope—the culmination of all her efforts.
The ice spikes trembled beside her, ready to launch at any moment.
"Don't let me weasel out—no, hear me out, Rosalyne." Shajin quickly stepped forward.
His movement was swift and decisive, as if trying to prevent a brewing storm from erupting.
He gently pressed her into one of the few intact chairs.
"Relax, Rosalyne. I've already found Barbatos."
His voice held a soothing tone, like one coaxing a frightened beast.
There was a steadiness and confidence in his words that made them hard not to believe.
"Huh? Really?"
Rosalyne's eyes widened, surprise flashing across her face.
Her grip loosened, and the ice spikes began to melt into droplets, dripping from her fingertips.
A flicker of hope lit her gaze—but was quickly replaced by doubt.
"I swear it's true!" Shajin raised his right hand in a solemn oath.
The earnest gesture and sincerity in his tone made it hard to question him.
"You'd better not be lying."
Rosalyne's anger had cooled slightly, though her expression still held wariness.
Her eyes reflected a tangle of emotions: hope, unease, and suspicion.
"So… what's your plan now?"
She asked, her voice probing. She needed clarity—something she could believe in.
"All that's left is for that bard to play the Hymn of the High Heavens~"
Shajin's lips curled slightly in a confident smile, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.
…
"That's weird. Why are there so few Fatui around here?"
Paimon scratched her head, visibly confused.
"What, would you rather a harbinger be standing guard here too?" Lumine shot her a glare, finding her question utterly absurd.
"I'm just saying, isn't the Skyward Harp super important? Shouldn't it be heavily guarded?"
Paimon's tone was earnest. It didn't make sense for the Fatui to leave something so valuable unprotected.
"There's only one explanation—they no longer have any use for the Skyward Harp," Diluc said with a furrowed brow.
He recalled earlier conversations with the Fatui. They had once treated the lyre as a key artifact. But now… something had changed.
His tone grew heavier, clearly considering something deeper at play.
"That's not necessarily a bad thing. Since we've got the lyre, we should head back," Jean said as she stepped forward, gently cradling the Skyward Harp.
Her voice was lighter now, as if a weight had been lifted.
"Yeah, good point! Let's go already," Paimon agreed eagerly, itching to bring the good news to Venti.
The group turned to leave. But hidden in a quiet corner, a lone Fatui soldier watched their every move.
As soon as they departed, the soldier pulled out a communicator. "Notify The Gambler: the targets have moved."
"Yes, sir," came the curt response. Clean and precise.
Moments later, Fatui operatives seemed to emerge from nowhere. They quickly began sweeping the area, erasing all traces—like ghosts who had never been there at all.
…..
Starsnatch Cliff.
"Heheh, you guys move fast, don't you?"
Venti chuckled, his voice light and easy.
He stepped forward and took the Skyward Harp.
"Well then… it's time for the greatest bard in the mortal realm to strum his strings."
He spoke with confidence, a glint of purpose in his eyes.
Venti walked to the edge of the cliff. As he plucked the strings, a gentle melody flowed into the air.
The music was crystal clear, soft as the breeze—soothing to the soul.
Gradually, the melody swelled, Venti's playing growing more impassioned with each passing note.
His fingers danced across the strings, each note resonating with raw emotion and power, drawing listeners in.
Suddenly, a wild gust of wind swept across Starsnatch Cliff.
It carried a raw, untamed energy—an omen of the storm to come.
ROAR!
With a deafening cry, Dvalin flapped its massive wings and soared toward Venti.
Its eyes shimmered with a feral glint—filled with fury and resentment.
"You…"
Dvalin's voice rumbled with confusion, as though struggling to recognize the figure before him.
"Yes, I've come," Venti said, raising his right hand with quiet confidence.
"You shouldn't have. There's nothing left for us to say."
Dvalin's tone was resolute—final, like a verdict already passed.
"Hahaha… that's more like it!"
A sudden interruption—a Abyss Mage appeared, cackling as he swung his staff and knocked the Skyward Harp from Venti's hands.
His voice was laced with mockery and glee, reveling in the chaos he'd just unleashed.
"Don't be fooled, poor dragon. He abandoned you long ago."
The Abyss Mage's words dripped with venom and malice, an attempt to twist Dvalin's mind.
"And now, he returns to deceive you once more!"
His voice was laced with provocation, fanning the flames of rage and doubt.
"Let your hatred flow! Give in to your wrath!"
His tone was almost incantatory—hypnotic.
"You are now an enemy of Mondstadt."
He declared Dvalin's fate, a judgment carved in stone.
"There's no turning back!"
The Abyss Mage's voice turned cruel, almost savoring Dvalin's suffering.
The poison thorns around Dvalin's neck pulsed darker, and agony filled the dragon's eyes.
It was locked in battle—not just with the voices around it, but with the demons within.
"Barbatos. You… and these people…"
Dvalin's voice trembled with despair, as if resigned to its fate.
"Did you come to hunt me?!"
Its roar was thunderous—furious, tormented, and completely unhinged.
_
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