#Pilgrimage Essentials

[finance-with-mukesh]

15 Essential Things to Carry on Your First Kedarnath Yatra

Going on an expedition to Kedarnath is a special experience you’ll never forget. It’s a place of worship in the Himalayas and a beautiful part of nature. To make sure you have a safe and enjoyable trip, you need to pack the right things. While planning your Kedarnath Yatra, consider exploring Kedarnath tour packages that offer comprehensive itineraries, guided treks, and logistical support to enhance your pilgrimage experience further.

Here are 15 important items to bring to your first Kedarnath Yatra. They include practical items and things that will help you feel spiritual.

15 ESSENTIALS TO CARRY ON YOUR FIRST KEDARNATH YATRA 1. Valid Identification and Travel Documents Before setting off on your Kedarnath Yatra, ensure that you have all necessary identification and travel documents, including:

Government-issued ID: For identification purposes, carry a valid government-issued ID such as an Aadhar card, passport, or driver’s license.

Yatra Permit: Obtain a yatra permit, also known as a pilgrimage pass, from the Uttarakhand government, which is required to visit Kedarnath.

2. Backpack If you’re planning to go on a trek or yatra trip, it’s important to have a comfortable backpack. You’ll need a backpack that can hold 70-80 liters and is waterproof. This will ensure that you have enough space to carry everything you need and that your belongings stay dry in case of rain. You can ensure a comfortable and hassle-free trip by selecting the right backpack.

3. Comfortable Footwear For a peaceful spiritual journey, it’s important to invest in comfortable footwear with a good grip for the uneven trekking paths.

4. Weather-appropriate Gear The weather in Kedarnath can be unpredictable, with temperatures varying throughout the day. Pack weather-appropriate gear such as:

Warm Layers: Remember to bring thermal wear, fleece jackets, and woolen socks to stay warm during chilly mornings and evenings.

Rain Gear: It is always a good idea to carry a lightweight and waterproof jacket or poncho with you, especially during your outdoor activities, to protect yourself from unexpected rain showers.

5. Water and Snacks To ensure that you stay healthy, hydrated, and energized during your trek to Kedarnath, it is advisable to carry a sufficient supply of water and snacks with you. A great option is to pack energy bars, which are rich in carbohydrates and protein, and nuts, which are high in healthy fats and protein. Dried fruits are also a great choice, as they provide a natural source of sugar and fiber. Reduce plastic waste and stay environmentally conscious by carrying a reusable water bottle. Refill it at designated water points along the trekking route to stay hydrated while minimizing your ecological footprint.

6. Personal Hygiene Essentials It is important to prioritize personal hygiene and cleanliness while on your journey. To ensure that you have all the necessary items, make sure to pack essential toiletries such as toothbrushes, toothpaste, soap, shampoo, hand sanitizer, wet wipes, and toilet paper. These items will help you stay fresh and clean throughout your journey, even if you are away from the comforts of home. Don’t forget to include them in your packing list!

7. Flashlight or Headlamp To ensure safety, it is important to carry a reliable flashlight or headlamp with extra batteries when trekking to Kedarnath, especially during nighttime treks in dimly lit areas.

8. Portable Charger and Power Bank Make sure you stay connected, capture memorable moments, and navigate using your electronic devices throughout your journey. Bring a portable charger and power bank to keep them powered up.

9. Spiritual Items As you go on your spiritual pilgrimage to Kedarnath, consider carrying sacred items such as:

Prayer beads (mala): Use prayer beads to recite mantras, chants, or prayers as you traverse the holy paths of Kedarnath.

Offerings: Bring offerings such as flowers, fruits, or sweets to present at the Kedarnath Temple as a symbol of reverence and devotion.

10. Cash and ATM Cards While there are ATMs and limited banking facilities available in nearby towns like Guptkashi and Gaurikund, it’s advisable to carry sufficient cash for emergencies and small purchases along the way.

11. Medications and Prescriptions Medical facilities are available in Kedarnath, but it is always wise to carry a basic first aid kit to be prepared for any minor injuries or accidents that may occur. The kit should contain essentials such as band-aids, antiseptic cream, pain relievers, sunscreen, and insect repellent to protect you against the harsh mountain climate and any potential insect bites.

Suppose you have any health issues that require medical attention or need to take medication on a regular basis. In that case, you must pack an adequate supply of prescription drugs for the duration of your trip.

In addition, it is wise to bring copies of your medical history and prescriptions to ensure easy access to this information in case of an emergency. This can help to ensure that you receive the appropriate care and treatment while away from home.

12. Neck Pillow You may not sleep well on the provided pillows during your travels, so it’s recommended to bring a neck pillow that suits your needs.

13. Emergency Contact Information It’s important to keep a list of emergency contacts with you at all times, including relatives, friends, local authorities, and tour operators. Store this information in your phone and keep a hard copy in your wallet as well.

14. Travel Insurance When planning your Kedarnath Yatra, consider protecting yourself with travel insurance to prepare for unexpected events such as trip cancellations, medical emergencies, or loss of personal belongings.

15 Sunscreen Don’t forget to keep your skin safe and healthy by always bringing sunscreen along!

As you prepare for your first Kedarnath Yatra, packing these essential items ensures that you’re well-equipped to embark on this sacred pilgrimage with comfort, safety, and reverence. Remember to respect Kedarnath’s natural environment, local customs, and spiritual significance, allowing yourself to immerse fully in the transformative experience that awaits amidst the Himalayan splendor.

[lemedstudent2021]

There’s more than one Eid??? How much have I missed??? Eid Mubarak my beloved but I need to know what this one’s about 😭

dhwjfjhdjkskjfd only two!! and thank u so much ur the sweetest 🥺🌷

eid al fitr (the word fitr means to break fast) is the one after ramadan to celebrate the end of the month of fasting :D

eid al adha (adha meaning sacrifice) marks the end of the 10 next blessed days in the islamic calendar after ramadan, where folks on hajj complete the rites of pilgrimage as the rest of us fast and pray and all around do more good deeds like charity etc :>

so yeah were on eid 2 atm lol and no worries ur on time and both ways i appreciate it hehe <3

[etz-ashashiyot]

Hi, I saw your post about Jewish indigeneity and as a non-Jewish, non-indigenous person, have a genuine question that I hope you will take in good faith. At what point of conflict and violence do we say that being indigenous to a region does not actually confer land rights? I understand that having land stolen is a travesty and a part of genocide, and I don't mean to be dismissive. But at some level of conflict and violence, is it not healthier for individals to learn to love the place they are at, the people around them, and the new culture they can build together? I think there are ways to do that which are not assimilationist. And I think the ongoing suffering in war cannot be justified by mere land claims. I am presenting this to you hoping you can help me understand your view better, especially if you disagree with me. What am I missing? Thank you for considering my questions.

I'm gonna be honest: the fact that this is coming from a blank blog makes me far less likely to want to answer it, especially because I haven't been on tumblr as much lately and thus don't know if this is a copypasta ask.

Who are you? Have you read my pinned post? Have you read the many, many sources in it?

I am going to give you extremely truncated answers, but understand that you have a lot of reading to do that is not possible to summarize in an answer to a tumblr ask. (Edit: this got a lot longer than I expected, but I stand by my words that these are truncated, incomplete answers. You need to read several books to actually develop a reasonable understanding of this.)

At what point of conflict and violence do we say that being indigenous to a region does not actually confer land rights?

Never. What you are asking here conflates two separate concerns: (1) the rights of an indigenous group to the land they are indigenous to, and (2) the ethical responsibilities said indigenous group has towards other human beings, in particular those who also live on that land. People don't lose their indegeneity and thus their ties to the land by being bad people. "Indigenous" is not an indicator of moral purity or uprightness. It means that they have deep cultural, historical, and (often) religious roots in a particular land that cannot be severed without totally destroying the group as such.

Eretz Yisrael will always be the homeland of the Jewish people regardless of whether we have control over it or not, whether we have a sovereign nation there or not, whether we are permitted to live there or even visit there or not. All of our religious and cultural practices tie back to eretz Yisrael, even ones that have been adapted to the diaspora. Religiously observant Jews pray facing Jerusalem three times a day, our liturgy is infused with references to the land, the Temple in Jerusalem, the redemption (of the people to the land) and/or specific attributes of the land. Our sacred texts occur in and make constant reference to the land and our observance of the mitzvot and how that relates to the land. (A ton of the religious laws we are given are land-based because it developed as an agricultural religion, and a huge number of the rest are related to the Temple in Jerusalem.) We have three pilgrimage festivals that pre- forced diaspora, all Jews would make back to Jerusalem to make specific sacrifices. We still observe these festivals in ways adapted to the diaspora, but you need to understand that the essential condition of diasporic Jewry is one of constant longing to return to the land. We observe these things today to keep the knowledge alive so that someday, future generations of Jews can use that knowledge in eretz Yisrael. Jews are of that land and can never be severed from it without becoming something entirely different.

Now. Does that give us a right to act with total impunity? Absolutely not. We still have moral obligations to our fellow human beings that we have to observe no matter what. That is true of all peoples everywhere, indigenous or not.

But the idea that you can "punish" an indigenous group by severing their roots is to say that total cultural annihilation is a valid punishment ever, which is genocidal rhetoric.

I understand that having land stolen is a travesty and a part of genocide, and I don't mean to be dismissive.

You answered your own question here, don't you see? Reread what you wrote here, as many times as you need to, until you get it.

But at some level of conflict and violence, is it not healthier for individals to learn to love the place they are at, the people around them, and the new culture they can build together?

You need to read some Jewish history.

If you are asking this question about Israel, and in particular the Israel / Palestine conflict, you need to read more Jewish history.

"....to learn to love the place they are at" Jews in the diaspora tried this. Please read this list.

"...the people around them" Do you think that Jews were expelled, pogrommed, and genocided multiple times across numerous locations because we didn't "love the people around us" enough? For real? Read about the Kielce Pogrom and get back to me on that.

"...the new culture they can build together" Ah. I see. Yes this is the thing:

We don't fucking need a new culture. We have been fighting to practice the culture we already have in peace for thousands of years.

I think there are ways to do that which are not assimilationist.

Well. You're wrong. You are one in a long long long long long long long long long long long line of gentiles who think that "Jews can just..." and (1) you're wrong; read what the Nazis did to ethnic Jews who converted to Christianity, the history of "new Christians"/conversos/etc. but also even if that were guaranteed to work (2) why should we have to change our culture instead of other people not trying to kill us for it?

And I think the ongoing suffering in war cannot be justified by mere land claims.

This war is not about land claims though; not really. Hamas wants every Jew dead. That is why they started this war. They have promised a new October 7th every day until the whole land is entirely judenfrei. Of course there are reasonable Palestinians with legitimate policy objectives, but that's not who's driving this war, and the ones in Gaza who speak up about it tend to get abducted or have their families disappeared and are tortured until they escape, die, or are silenced.

Are there legitimate things to be discussed about Israel's approach in this war and/or in general? Sure. But this isn't "mere land claims." This is about the safety, lives, and self-determination of half the global Jewish population, the vast majority of whom are only there in the first place because they themselves or their parents/grandparents/great-grandparents fled (or were forcibly relocated) there as refugees of genocide. Israel is the only remaining place in the world for certain smaller Jewish sub-ethnicities. If Israel is destroyed, so much will be lost. And, we will be back to being subjects of the whims of hostile foreign powers who have proven again and again that they will just periodically expel or murder lots of us when it is politically useful for them to do so.

That is what is at stake for us.

The fact that you think that our connection to the land is "mere land claims" and not an existential part of our identity says volumes by itself, but the fact that you don't know what is actually at stake for us says even more. It tells me that you have a lot of reading to do.

What am I missing?

Empathy. History. Context.

Read People Love Dead Jews - I think it will help you understand more of these issues. There are other helpful sources in my pinned post too.

[sakuraszn]

— CHAPTER 1: FIRST TOUCH, FIRST TIDE.

summary : after a year of not being in town you finally come back for the summer to release all the tension.

notes : this is the first chapter, hopefully you guys enjoy it!! Don’t worry future chapters will be longer than this!! I’m very nervous about how this story will go, but we’ll seee. :) here’s the masterlist to this story!

wc : 2.2k

The bus pulls into the station with a slow, tired sigh, its doors creaking open to release its passengers into the thick summer air. You step down onto the pavement, the heat instantly wrapping around you, heavy with salt and the scent of sun-warmed asphalt. Kioku Shores, a name that whispered promises of remembrance, lived up to its billing. Gone were the towering skyscrapers and relentless honking of the city; in their place stood quaint, pastel-colored houses huddled together like gossiping neighbors, their windows winking in the afternoon sun. A gentle breeze rustled the palm trees lining the streets, their fronds swaying in a rhythmic dance that instantly calmed my frazzled nerves. The air hummed with a lazy, carefree energy, a stark contrast to the frenetic pace of my urban existence.

The town hasn’t changed much since you last been here.

My backpack, heavy with the weight of essentials and anxieties, felt lighter already. The tension that had coiled itself around your shoulders for the past few months, a byproduct of looming work and strained family dynamics, began to unravel. The constant pressure, the feeling of being perpetually on edge, seemed to melt away with each breath of this salty, sweet air. This was it - your escape, your sanctuary, your annual pilgrimage to this little slice of paradise.

Every summer, you sought refuge in kiouku shores, a ritual as ingrained in my life as breathing. It was a reset button, a opportunity to recharge before facing another piles of work papers on you. another round of societal expectations.

You take a slow breath. It’s been a year. A year since you last set foot in this place. A year since you left behind more than just the ocean.

It feels the same. And yet, it doesn’t.

A familiar voice cuts through your thoughts.

“Well, well. Look who finally decided to come back.”

You turn around already finding comfort in the knowing voice that called to you. “Hey, Mrs. Yoshida,” you say, shifting your bag on your shoulder and smiling softly.

Mrs. Yoshida stands in the doorway of her small grocery shop, arms crossed, a knowing smirk on her lips. Her graying hair is pinned up into a loose bun, her apron dusted with flour. She looks exactly the same—like she’s been plucked right out of your memories and placed in the present.

She looks you over before taking off her apron and slowly approaching you to give you a hug. “Oh, sweetheart, you look so different.”

You let out a small laugh as you wrap your arms around her, embracing her. “It's only been a year.”

“A year's too long!” she replies, cupping your cheeks before tilting her head toward the store. “Come in. You must be exhausted from such a long bus ride.”

You hesitate for a moment, the weight of her question hanging in the air, but she’s already stepping back inside, leaving the door open and inviting you in. As you cross the entryway, the familiar ambiance of the shop envelops you—a cramped, cluttered haven filled with the rich aromas of exotic spices and the comforting scent of aged wood. The shelves, overflowing witha diverse mix of bags of rice, colorful canned goods, and an assortment of local treats, create a delightful chaos that reflects the heart of this community.

A tiny fan whirs valiantly in the corner, struggling to combat the oppressive heat that seeps through the open doorway. She motions for you to take a seat on one of the worn-out wooden stools by the counter, its surface polished from years of use. You can see the care she puts into this place, each item a little story, each corner a memory.

With a probing look, she leans against the counter, arms crossed. “So,” she begins, her voice tinged with a mixture of teasing and concern, “you planning to disappear again after this summer?” Her question lingers, a reminder of your past decisions and the uncertainty that follows you like a shadow.

You exhale, running a hand through your hair. “I don’t know.”

She hums, unimpressed. “Figures. You always were a flight risk.”

You smile, but it’s small, almost hesitant. It’s strange being back, sitting here like nothing’s changed when everything has.

She sets a cold glass of lemonade in front of you. “Drink up. You look like you’re about to pass out.”You murmur a thanks, sipping the tart, chilled drink as she watches you.

“Y’know,” she begins, her voice a bit hesitant as if weighing her words carefully, “that boy has been looking for you.”

You feel a jolt of surprise, your hand freezing with the glass poised halfway to your lips. The refreshing chill of the drink inside is overshadowed by a rush of thoughts, your heart quickening.

Mrs. Yoshida, with her keen eyes that seem to catch every nuance of the world around her, notices the sudden stillness in your posture. She always does. Her gaze softens, and an understanding smile creeps onto her face. “Thought you should know,” she adds, her tone half-concerned, half-mischievous, as if she’s sharing an intriguing secret rather than mere gossip.

You look down, trying to process this news while avoiding her knowing look, the weight of her words hanging in the air between you.

You swallow. “I wasn’t—” You shake your head, setting the glass down. “I wasn’t asking.”

She snorts. “Sure, kid. Whatever you say.”

The conversation lingers between you, thick as the summer air.

You finish the lemonade, thank her again, and step back outside, your heart feeling heavier than when you arrived.

The streets of the town are lined with cherished memories, tucked into every nook and cranny, and resonating from every sun-faded storefront. You stroll past the beloved old ice cream parlor, where laughter once filled the warm summer nights as you savored melting cones that dripped sticky sweetness onto your fingers. A bit further, you approach the weathered dock, where you would sit with your feet dangling above the shimmering water, the gentle tide rocking you into a dreamy illusion of eternity. You once thought time would wash these moments away, yet they remain, deeply etched into the very bones of this town, patiently waiting for your return.

The hotel isn’t far—a modest structure standing resilient just off the beach, its wooden frame adorned with the patina of years gone by. The check-in process is swift, and the receptionist greets you with a warm, polite smile, handing over the old brass key to your room like a tangible piece of history.

As you step into the space, it feels both small and incredibly familiar—a sanctuary wrapped in cool, crisp linen sheets, softly illuminated by the gentle glow of yellow light. The faint, refreshing scent of the ocean wafts through the open window, mingling with the nostalgic air. You drop your bag onto the inviting bed and sink onto the edge, exhaling slowly as the weight of the past settles in around you.

You should unpack. You should shower. You should do anything but sit here and think.

Instead, you lie back, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of summer settle into your chest.

The ocean calls to you. It always does.

And despite everything—despite the memories, despite the past—you know you’ll answer.

As the hours slipped by, you found yourself drifting into a light sleep, surrounded by an array of unpacked boxes that were still scattered around the room. The gentle sound of waves crashing rhythmically against the sandy shore stirred you from your slumber. With a soft sigh, you shifted your gaze toward the window, where the sun began to dip low on the horizon, casting a warm golden glow across the sky. The salty breeze wafted through the open window, carrying with it the invigorating scent of the ocean, momentarily pulling you from the clutter of your thoughts and the chaos of your surroundings.

You got out of bed and searched through your suitcase for a swimsuit before putting it on and heading toward the place that feels like a second heartbeat, a pulse beneath your skin that you’ve never been able to ignore.

kiouku shores; the ocean that has always been the one thing that never changes. It’s constant—pulling in, washing out, whispering secrets in the language of waves. No matter how much time passes, no matter how many summers slip through your fingers like grains of sand, the tide always returns.

The sand feels warm and inviting beneath your feet as you walk toward the shoreline, where the gentle waves softly kiss the shore. Today, the ocean holds a serene blue hue that stretches endlessly to the horizon, creating a peaceful, uninterrupted view. The wind playfully tugs at your clothes, reminding you of the simplicity of this moment. Here, it’s quieter—far from the hustle and bustle, away from everyday responsibilities. You can embrace the calm, finding solace in the way the horizon blends with the sky in a beautiful display of color. It's a space for reflection and a gentle reminder of the serenity that life can offer.

This place has always felt like another world. A place untouched by reality.

“Well shit, look who it is.” A voice, rough and unmistakable, cuts through the stillness making your whole body go rigged.

It can't be? It's not him, right?

You come to an abrupt stop, heart pounding wildly in your chest as you pivot on your heel. There he is—Katsuki Bakugo—just a few feet away, and he commands attention like a storm about to break. With arms crossed tightly over his broad chest, he radiates a mix of defiance and intrigue that sends a thrill through the air. His golden hair, tousled by a playful breeze, dances in the dying sunlight, creating an almost ethereal glow around him. The fading light plays off his skin, accentuating the fierce angles of his jawline and the striking contours of his face. Instead of his usual scowl, there's a surprising softness in his expression, hinting at a vulnerability that catches you off guard.

The air between you crackles with an electric tension, brimming with unspoken words and a shared past that lingers heavily, enveloping the moment in a thrilling uncertainty.

He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck, glancing at the ocean as if it might have an answer for him.

His red eyes trace over you, unreadable. Then, after a beat, he scoffs. “Didn’t think I’d see you here.”

Your heart stumbles in your chest, but you keep your voice steady. “Yeah. Me neither.”

Silence. The tide pulls in, pulls away.

He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck, glancing at the ocean like it might have an answer for him.

Eventually, he looks back at you.

“You stayin’ this time?”

The question hangs in the air, straightforward yet heavy, burdened by the countless thoughts and emotions lingering beneath the surface. It presses into your ribs, a relentless reminder of everything left unspoken, every nuance of feeling that weighs down your heart. You take a moment, caught in the stillness, realizing that you can’t respond immediately. The words are stuck in your throat, tangled with hesitation and uncertainty. You search for the right answer, but the truth is as elusive as the shadows of doubt that dance in your mind.

Instead, you look out at the waves, at the place where the ocean meets the sky.

And for the first time in a long time, you wonder if maybe—just maybe—you don’t have to keep running.

You feel his gaze blazing into your skin waiting for an answer.

“I—” you start softly, your voice barely above a whisper, “well, I’m just planning to stay for the summer to help clear my mind a bit.” As you speak, your gaze drifts downwards, your fingers nervously intertwining, seeking solace in their familiar motion. “Things back home have been a bit overwhelming,” you confess, the weight of your words heavy in the air. The warm breeze rustles the leaves nearby, but all you can focus on is the way his eyes hold yours, making it difficult to shake the feeling of vulnerability creeping in. You feel a mix of apprehension and hope, caught in the moment. It was so awkward to reconnect after all this time. Especially after what happened last year..

He hums softly, as he shifts his gaze to the horizon where the sun has dipped below the edge of the world. The sky is painted with hues of orange and pink, the colors mingling like a soft watercolor wash as they fade into twilight. He stares, entranced, at the last remnants of daylight, while the moon begins to rise, casting a silvery glow that bathes the landscape ina peaceful blue hue. The stillness of the evening wraps around you both, as the first stars twinkle into existence overhead.

“Um, well, I should really head back to my room now since it’s getting late,” you say, your voice slightly shaky as you gather your thoughts and turn to face him. You can feel your heart racing as you take a step back, eager to put distance between yourself and his penetrating gaze. “Goodnight,” you finally manage to add, your words slipping out in a rush as you hurriedly turn away.

God, why did he have to be there, watching you go?

You can feel the heat rising through your body as you quicken your pace, acutely aware of his eyes trailing after you, a mix of curiosity and something unspoken lingering in the air.

“Goodnight,” he whispers gently, concern flickering in his eyes as he watches you slip away into the shadows of the dark night.

2025 © SAKURASZN !

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @v3n7s, @d4rlinxs, @rednicotine, @cielito--lindo, @nanasrkives, @afterlife11, @jazoewazoe

[astral-disastral-catastral]

HEAR ME OUT smilk's new beast raid boss is a goat looking thing BECAUSE

PV probably takes some sort of inspiration from prophets in abrahamic religions more notably jesus than anything else or atleast imo and like you see him with sheep and stuff like in 1 of his overworld animations where he's with a cotton candy sheep like he may have been a shepard before his pilgrimage and stuff and what are sheep known for other than being cuddly and cute and tasty? LOYALTY!!!! And there's like a buncha thing abt sheep in some religions too like in the bible sheep are brought up a lot and are of high value I think not 200% sure like sacrificing sheep or using them as metaphors for things like followers following a religion or prophet with loyalty. Smilk is essentially like legit the polar opposite of pv, deceitful, opposing colour palette, completely different personality, yk and what Is his beast raid boss? A GOAT THING!!! What are goat known for other than being also tasty? Being more disobedient and violent and stubborn compared to sheep who are easier to control and stuff so a goat is basically the antithesis of a sheep [especially in the bible there are metaphors and stuff used for like people eho are sinful i think again not 100% sure....] THEREFORE HIS BEAST RAID BOSS HIS A GOAT TO OPPOSE PV IN EVERYWAY EVEN FURTHER!!!!!! Like js think abt it........ smilk=antipv and goat is anti-sheep.... PLUS technically you could relate a goat to demon stuff like that 1 demon called baphomet kinda look like a goat sorta soo.... yeah I'm a genius I know very smart very demure

[shangrila11]

Silver lining // Brant (Wuwa) x Reader

(Congrats to those for who pulled for this gorgeous man! For those who haven't, may all Brant wanters be Brant havers! :D)

(CW: Mention of alcohol towards the end)

Splash!

The cold ocean water enveloped you as you sunk. You frantically swam up to the surface. With your head bobbing above water, you looked around for anything to cling onto. Fortunately, there was a driftwood floating not too far away from you. You swam towards it and struggled to hold onto it for dear life against the turbulent waters. You shivered, feeling your eyelids drooping but you tried to stay awake.

Just then, you spotted a ship. In a hoarse voice, you called for help but you weren't sure if the people on board could hear you over the howl of the wind. Your eyes slowly shut, exhaustion finally getting the best of you, and everything went dark...

xxx xxx

" -- alright?"

"I can feel a pulse so hopefully they are. Hey, can you hear me?"

You slowly opened your eyes. Two figures looked at you in concern. One was a male with short teal hair, purple eyes and a feathered hat and the other was a female with long, two-toned hair tied in bunches and heterochromia. The two of them heaved a sigh of relief seeing you had regained consciousness.

"You're awake! How are you feeling?" the male asked, smiling.

"W--what happened?" you mumbled, disorientated. You combed through your memories, trying to remember what had happened before you lost consciousness. When you finally remembered, you asked if they were the ones who rescued you.

"That's right. Lady Luck smiled upon you. You were suffering from hypothermia. If we came any later -- "

It was then that you realised that you were covered in layers of blankets and was wearing a new change of clothes. They must had done that to alleviate your hypothermia. A warm feeling coursed through you at the thought. The male shook his head, his smile fading for a brief moment before returning. "Anyway, we've made some soup for you. I'll go get it. While I'm at it, is there anything else you need?" You shook your head.

"No, I'm good. Thank you --?"

"Ah, yes. Where are my manners?" the male took off his hat and bowed. "I'm Brant, captain of the Troupe of Fools. And she's Roccia, my First Mate." Roccia shyly nodded her head in greeting which you reciprocated.

"Thank you, captain," you smiled weakly. You introduced yourself to him and Roccia.

"A pleasure to meet you, (Y/N)," Brant grinned. "I'll go now. Rest well. If you need anything, Roccia will be here." You watched as he exited the room, leaving just you and Roccia. An awkward silence filled the air. You hesitantly asked about the well-being of the people who had boarded the same ship as you. Roccia informed you that they had rescued a few people who might be them, much to your relief. You were, of course, devastated that some could not be found but at least there were survivors. The two of you moved on to other topics and you even got to meet the adorable Pero.

Brant eventually came back with the soup. You gratefully took the bowl and had some of the soup. You nodded your head in approval.

"It's delicious," you remarked, having some more of it.

"Glad you like it," Brant smiled. His face turned serious. "I assume you and your crewmates were sent on a pilgrimage by the Order?" You nodded silently, hanging your head.

"I figure as much. Only those going on the Pilgrim's Sail would pass through there," the captain sighed. The corners of his lips curled into a grin. "Since you're already dubbed a Fool by the Order, why don't you join our Troupe?" You pondered for a moment. It wasn't like you had anywhere else to go anyway since you were essentially an exile. Besides, Brant seemed genuine. You nodded your head. The male's grin widened.

"Welcome aboard, (Y/N). I look forward to seeing your performance, both on stage and off stage."

xxx xxx

"What do you think, captain?"

"Impressive. You have a talent for script writing," Brant grinned, giving you a friendly pat on the back. "With that said, it could use a little tweaking to make the dialogue flow more naturally."

"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind as I edit the script," you smiled bashfully, your heart fluttering.

"Splendid," the captain nodded, a twinkle in his eyes. "By the way, how is life with us so far?"

"It's been great so far. There's always something interesting going on and the people here are very welcoming. It helps that a few of my crewmates are here as well."

"Good, good," Brant smiled, his expression softening. "That reminds me -- " He snapped his fingers. In a burst of purple flames, a mask materialised. He handed it to you.

"For you, my friend. Roccia and I came up with the design and we think this best suits you. Now you're officially part of the troupe!" he grins. You took the mask from him, thanking him and remarking how gorgeous it looked. You attached it to your belt.

"My pleasure," the male bowed. "Come on. Let's go have lunch. All this work as captain has worked me up an appetite!" Taking your hand, the two of you headed to the dining area.

xxx xxx

"I'm sorry, you want me to what?"

"You heard me! I want you to play the lead role in our upcoming play," Brant beamed.

"B--but I've never done this before. What if I mess up?"

"That, my dear (Y/N), is what rehearsals are for!" the captain assured you. He looked at you sincerely. "I can't think of anyone more suitable for the role than you. Besides, don't you wanna act out the script you worked so hard on?"

"Well..." you considered for a moment before nodding. "Alright. I'll give it a go."

"That's the spirit!" Brant ruffled your hair. "Don't worry, I'll be here with you every step of the way." He winked. You smiled a little, anticipation bubbling inside you despite still having a little reservations.

"Aye, captain."

xxx xxx

You peaked out from the backstage. The audience was abuzz with excitement, chattering away. Your heart thudded wildly against your chest and your hands felt clammy with sweat.

"Is nerves getting to you, dear (Y/N)?"

You whipped your head around to see the captain, his usual easygoing grin on his face. You nodded.

"There are a lot of people out there. The last thing I want is to disappoint them and the troupe. What if they don't like my performance? What if I say the wrong lines? What if I --?"

Before you could continue, a familiar-looking hat was placed on top of your head. Surprised, your attention found its way back to the now hatless Brant. He gave you a gentle smile.

"Look. You've been doing wonderfully during rehearsals. Also, do you remember what we stand for?"

"Freedom and bringing laughter through tales."

"Mmmhmm. And to get the audience to enjoy themselves, we ourselves have to enjoy performing. So relax and have fun. You got this!" he winked. You smiled a little, feeling the tension in you loosening.

"You're right. I can do this. Thank you, Brant," you said softly. Brant took his hat from you and grinned.

"Then let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

xxx xxx

"To yet a successful show!"

The clinking of glasses resounded through the dining hall as everyone made a toast. Everyone was in high spirits, you could pratically feel it in the air. A broad smile crossed Brant's face. He lifted his glass once again.

"All of you did great tonight, from the actors to the backstage crew. It's because of everyone's efforts that the show was a success. Let's keep this up and may our future performances be just as spectacular or even more than this one! Cheers!"

Everyone raised their glasses, cheering. After taking a sip of his drink, the teal-haired male walked towards you.

"Amazing job earlier. Told ya you can do it!" he grinned, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

"Thank you. You did great as well," you beamed. It had still rather been nerve-wrecking at first but heeding Brant's advice helped. There were, of course, still areas of improvement such as your line delivery needing to be more smooth and expressive. With that said, you hadn't done too bad for your first performance if you did say so yourself. Overall, you were just delighted and relieved that your hard work had bore fruit.

"Glad that you like my performance!" Brant laughed heartily. His expression turned sincere. "Seriously though. I applaud you for being able to get over your nerves rather quickly."

"Haha. You flatter me," you laughed sheepishly, your cheeks flushing.

"But I mean it and it isn't the alcohol talking," the captain chuckled. The two of you then happily talked about other things, taking sips of your drinks in between.

"Nothing beats a good drink and good company on this fine, celebratory night," Brant remarked, swirling his drink. You nodded, sipping your drink.

"Yeah. I look forward to more of this," you beamed. Brant returned your smile.

"Same here," he agreed. Hearing Tina calling his name, he excused himself and told you to enjoy the rest of the celebrations. You assured him that you would. You smiled, watching him leave. Despite having the misfortune of becoming an exile, a couple of good things came out if it: meeting the captain and finding a group of people whom you could call family.

[ellitx]

Chapter 24: The Divine Order

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

previous || next

art belongs to: fridaynightcat

Starting from this chapter, there will be a lot of mentions and content about pregnancy. I know some of you may not be fond of this content, but it’s essential to the plot line. I’m simply saying this as a heads up to everyone. I would say you can skip them if you wish to do so, but you will be missing a lot of context in the future chapters.

word count: 9.4k

          It was hard to believe that it had been three months since the Lord’s Tempest— one which they had unanimously begun to call on the night of the raging Ludi Harpastum— but at least the land of freedom was slowly thriving. Despite the nation being close to havoc, the Church’s announcement that a maiden had been betrothed to the Anemo Archon had thrown everyone into confusion, even if everyone had witnessed their god declare about his beloved.

           Despite the rocky progress of the past three months due to the Abyss Order’s invasion, which had added to the burdens of an already-strained nation, the Knights of Favonius had remained steadfast in their duty to protect Mondstadt.

           It had been fortunate that the Grandmaster and his troops had arrived on time when the Abyss took advantage of the drastic situation. Otherwise, the nation would be plunged into chaos and its people would be left vulnerable to despair. 

           Once the Abyss attacks had lessened and people continued restoring the city, perhaps the Anemo Archon had noticed the Church’s frequent pilgrims to Stormterror’s Lair. They had gone there seeking his guidance and praying for Mondstadt’s recovery; thus, he decided to bless them with his divine grace. After all, it had been his own transgression that led to the city's ruin, but no one dared to say that out loud unless they were a masochistic fool who’d prefer to be punished by the divinity.

           To say everyone had been shocked when the plaza was rebuilt overnight was an understatement. Everyone was speechless to see everything— and by everything, it meant that the entire city was rebuilt. The houses were restored, the irrigation systems were functioning, all the debris and remnants of destruction were gone. It was as if the storm didn’t occur in the very first place.

           People had cried, rejoiced, cheered, and knelt before the very statue of the Lord of the Winds, offering their prayers and gratitude for restoring the city and bringing their lives to its peaceful state. Of course, none could ever forget witnessing the wrath of their own god. But for him to restore Mondstadt and bless them so generously, surely that meant he had forgiven them of their sins... right?

           While many could only speculate whether the Anemo Archon had indeed chosen to forgive them and bestow his divine blessings, the exact details of what had transpired remained known only to the Church. Most, however, did not question it. They simply obeyed, believing it to have come from the Seneschal.

           Since then, the Church of Favonius has been meticulous in spreading the word about the Anemo Archon’s wife to the whole nation, further bringing with it a sense of prosperity and good fortune. Not only were they messengers of his will, but they also claimed to have near-direct contact with the Anemo Archon himself.

           Formerly overseen by the Knights of Favonius, the Church had become autonomous, making this sacred faction outside the Knights’ jurisdiction. They take on the sacred responsibility of providing guidance to those who seek the Anemo Archon’s blessings and his beloved wife’s miracles and fortunes. With scripture entrusted to them by the Lord himself, they awaited only his divine word.

           If no priests or nuns were available, citizens seeking their holy blessings could instead visit the shrine the Church had built at Stormterror’s Lair. This spiked the increase in pilgrimages the Church had been undertaking with growing frequency. Though the name sounded ominous and the area was still used as a nesting place by the dragon it was named after, many believed it also served as the Divine Couple’s abode.

           Over time, the lair had undergone a significant transformation. Cecilia flowers now bloomed in a ray of path, lush greenery had overtaken the once barren grounds, soft vines adorned the stone walls, and the great tower itself was gradually being rebuilt with each visit. 

           Witnessing these changes with their very own eyes only strengthened their belief that it must be the work of none other than Lord Barbatos. However, the attempts to investigate were proved futile as strong wind barriers surrounded the borders, preventing any entries.

           Recognizing its sacred nature, the Knights of Favonius officially renamed Stormterror’s Lair to Sanctuary of Windswept Vow— or simply, the Sanctuary. Each week, the people of Mondstadt frequently visited the shrine, offering their own prayers, wishes, and gifts for Lord Barbatos and his beloved wife to seek favour from the divine couple.

           “So the sudden restoration in Mondstadt means that…”

           Aether nodded when they finally grasped the situation. “Venti— or Barbatos— could be the only one who did it. His reason behind this? I don’t know yet, but it must have something to do with [Name]…”

           Jean stayed quiet, her fingers resting below her chin, deep in thought as she carefully digested the Honorary Knight’s intel. She looked down at the table scattered with envelopes and papers, the gears in her head connecting the pieces of information relating to the Anemo Archon and Mondstadt’s series of events in the past three months.

           “And this [Name] is the Anemo Archon’s wife the Church claims to be?” she reiterated.

           The blonde stayed silent before nodding. His hands turned into fists as he glared at the wooden table. “Yeah. Most of you have probably seen her on the night of Ludi Harpastum. The girl Venti was carrying, that’s [Name].”

           The air was tense while everyone stayed silent, absorbing the information. Diluc crossed his arms, his crimson gaze sharp with suspicion as he leaned slightly against the table. The weight of the discussion was pressing down on them, and the implications of Barbatos’ actions left an unspoken unease in the air.

           “There’s been a sudden rise in activity from the Church, and I’m sure everyone is aware of the ‘miracles’,” he finally spoke, his tone edged with skepticism.

           Right, the miracles. 

           Over the past two weeks, there has been a sudden fluctuation of “blessings” being given. One could almost say the phenomenon was similar to how Mondstadt was restored in one night. Crops were nourished, Diluc’s grapevines in the winery were somehow resistant to pests and grape rot. Farmers reported unprecedented harvests, their fields bearing fruit twice as plentiful as the season before. Even those who had fallen ill mysteriously recovered.

           The sheer number of inexplicable blessings had left even the most skeptical citizens questioning the source of such divine intervention. The Church of Favonius wasted no time in proclaiming these miracles as the work of Barbatos himself, further solidifying their influence over the people.

           Merchants spoke of their wares selling out in record time, their profits soaring without explanation. Hunters returned from the forest with an abundance of meat far beyond what was natural for the season. Even the winds carried a warmth that was neither stifling nor bitter, as if the land itself had been cradled in an embrace of renewal.

           Albedo tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the table, his gaze flickering toward Jean. “It’s all a bit too convenient, don’t you think? Sudden prosperity after months of unrest... it feels more like compensation rather than mere generosity.”

           Kaeya hummed, swirling the wine in his glass as he smirked. “I don’t see any problems here. If anything, I see this as a win,” he said before taking a sip. “It benefits everyone. Everyone is happy, the Anemo Archon is happy, and Mondstadt is as free as the wind.”

           Diluc groaned at his comment. This was exactly why he didn’t want to cooperate with the Knights of Favonius, more so working with the Cavalry Captain. Sharing the bard’s identity with them could bring risk after what had happened, but feigning ignorance would only bring suspicion if brought up. 

           Only Aether, Paimon, Jean, Diluc, and Albedo knew of Venti’s identity as the Anemo Archon since the Stormterror had gone into a rampage. But after the events of Ludi Harpastum, it had become difficult for anyone not to recognize Venti. How could anyone not recognize the bard’s youthful face when he’s all over the town’s tavern, only to discover he’s an Archon in disguise?

           Just as Diluc was about to retort to Kaeya, a loud knock interrupted their discussion. Everyone turned their heads to the door and Diluc sighed. 

           “Come in.”

           A brunette girl dressed in Mondstadt’s traditional dress stepped inside. Her purple eyes drifted to Diluc’s guests and she bowed her head politely.

           “Mister Tunner has already gathered today’s harvest. However, some vineyards were infested by pests… We’re working on double-checking the grapes’ quality before processing them, just to be sure nothing compromised the batch. Mister Tunner also suggested postponing fermentation until we’ve completed the inspection.”

           She paused, hands clasped in front of her and her eyes briefly flicking to Diluc for approval before adding, “We’ll keep you updated if anything else comes up, Master Diluc.”

           Diluc sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. This was the third time he received a report that the vineyards were plagued by pests. But with the recent miracles, he couldn’t bring himself to complain. The profits at Dawn Winery had soared, thanks to what many considered a blessing from the Anemo Archon. Sadly, not every harvest could be safe from phylloxeras.

           “Alright. Thank you,” Diluc said with a calm nod, his voice low and composed despite the troubling news. “How’s your mother doing, Aurel?”

           The girl’s eyes widened at the mention of her parent. “Oh, she’s steadily recovering. She’s still a bit weak, but the medicine’s been helping thanks to your generosity, Master Diluc.” Aurel replied steadily, her gaze momentarily shifting to the floor before returning to the red-haired man. “I’m not particularly devout, but… lately, I’ve started to believe that maybe my prayers have reached the Anemo Archon after all.”

           Diluc gave a thoughtful hum. “I’ve heard from Adelinde that you’ve been making frequent visits to the shrine as of late.”

           Aurel nodded, folding her hands in front of her. “Yes, sir. I suppose it’s become something of a routine. The miracles, however… seem to be thinning out…”

           Kaeya raised a brow, his ever-present smirk curling his lips. “Thinning out? Now that’s an interesting choice of words. Care to elaborate, Aurel?”

           The girl shifted awkwardly, her brows knitting together as she tried to maintain her calm composure when his sharp eyes were locked onto her. “Well… I only heard from someone that the blessings aren’t as frequent as they were in the past two weeks. The Church hasn’t made any notice yet if there are new divine words from the Anemo Archon, so most are not yet aware of this occurrence…”

           Aether crossed his arms, his expression darkening as he processed her words. He turned and looked at the window, seeing many people making their way to the gates with baskets, flowers, and wines in their hands. He wondered how you were doing inside. If he hadn’t seen you for three months, did that mean you had accepted your fate? It felt… off.

           “Thank you, Aurel. You can take your leave.” Diluc said.

           Aurel nodded and quickly exited the room. Once the door closed behind her, silence filled the air for a brief moment.

           Kaeya broke it with a low chuckle, swirling his wine again. “Depleted miracles, huh? Sounds like our dear Archon might have overextended himself.”

           Jean frowned at Kaeya’s remark, folding her hands neatly on her lap. “This isn’t something to joke about. If the miracles are thinning out, it means something is shifting, and not necessarily for the better.”

           Albedo leaned forward, fingertips steepled as he glanced toward Aether. “You mentioned earlier that she didn’t know Venti’s true nature until you told her. Can you tell us more about that moment? What exactly happened that night?”

           Aether sighed, subconsciously reaching to his neck where he could still feel his assailant’s ghostly hands wrapped around his throat. “He was furious. I could feel it… he intended to kill me that evening. But…” His eyes cast downwards to the papers and books laid on the table, written anecdotes and history related to the Anemo Archon. “He looked desperate to make [Name] stay with him despite all the truths he hid from her… I really don’t know what their relationship is, but all I can say is, [Name] felt betrayed that he kept so many things from her…”

           Paimon, unusually quiet until now, floated a bit lower. “We could never miss that look in her eyes… It was like she shattered into pieces when we told her everything about Venti’s true identity…”

           The fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows along the polished floors of Dawn Winery’s main room. Albedo’s voice remained calm, but there was a trace of curiosity. “And the miracles… do you believe they’re tied to her?”

           Aether paused briefly before nodding slowly. “I do. Maybe not directly. But she’s at the center of it. Ever since the Lord’s Tempest, Mondstadt’s been strange. One day, Mondstadt was being attacked by the Abyss, and the next, there was a sudden restoration. And now the rise in miracles? People call them a blessing, but is it really a blessing if it's forced by a divinity?”

           “It’s been ongoing for weeks and everyone is flocking to visit the Sanctuary. Do you think she’s the reason the blessings are dissipating?” Diluc remarked.

           The Cavalry Captain chuckled lowly and their heads turned to him. “If it really did come from the Lady of the Winds, who are we to complain when all they’ve done is merely show their love to us? To shower us with their divine grace?” Kaeya added.

           Diluc’s jaw tightened, his gloved fingers tapping against the wooden table. “That’s exactly what concerns me. A deity’s power is not limitless. If it is truly her, how much of herself is she sacrificing to bestow these so-called miracles? And for what purpose?”

           Aether’s frown deepened as his gaze lingered on the window, watching the crowd grow larger as the sun dipped below the horizon. The flicker of lanterns carried by the people illuminated the path to the shrine, creating a river of golden light. 

           “It doesn’t feel right,” he finally said, his voice quiet yet firm. “Even if it’s her, this isn’t the freedom Mondstadt stands for. It feels more like... devotion born of obligation rather than choice.”

           Kaeya raised a brow, swirling the wine in his glass before glancing sidelong at the traveler. “Strange, hearing those words from you. You've crossed countless nations and seen stranger customs, yet this is what unsettles you?”

           It didn’t help that you were being venerated in a way that trapped you rather than honored you. And he feared you were being consumed by the role Venti had imposed. Aether wanted you to have the freedom to choose, not to be turned into a goddess out of grief or divine politics.

           Kaeya paused, his tone light but no longer mocking. “Though... I suppose it’s different when it’s someone you care about. You've been clawing at the windwalls for months now, haven’t you?”

           Aether’s jaw tensed. “You make it sound like I haven’t tried.”

           “I’m not saying that,” Kaeya said, his voice quieter now. “But when a god decides to love, it's rarely fair. You know that better than anyone.”

           The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the subtle crackling of the fire. Diluc shot Kaeya a glance, less sharp now and more contemplative. “You're saying the Archon’s emotions are fueling this... surge of miracles?”

           Kaeya shrugged, lifting his glass. “Or hers. Maybe both. Love has strange ways of manifesting when gods are involved. Only the Church of Favonius knows the true source of these miracles.”

           Paimon grumbled as she placed her fists on her small waist. “It’s always the Church of Favonius! Are the Knights no longer involved in this stuff? You know, divine revelations, blessings, whatever this whole thing is?”

           Jean folded her hands neatly atop the table, coughing her throat. “We are still involved, Paimon. But ever since the restructuring two months ago, the Church has gained more autonomy in handling all divine affairs related to the Anemo Archon. The Knights… we no longer have oversight over the rituals, miracles, or the Anemo Archon’s revelations. Only the clergy know how things are actually operating.”

           Paimon blinked. “Restructuring?”

           Jean gave a slow nod. “After the Lord’s Tempest, the Church declared a shift in divine authority. They claimed it was Lord Barbatos’s will that his revelations should be handled solely by his chosen clergy, not a military force. The people were desperate for hope after the chaos. They accepted it.”

           “And now no one questions it,” Diluc muttered, eyes narrowing. “How convenient.”

           Albedo leaned forward, the firelight catching the edge of his sharp gaze. “If the Church truly acts on Lord Barbatos’s will, then we must also entertain the possibility that any deviation, such as the waning of miracles, could be interpreted as punishment. Or… exhaustion.”

           “Exhaustion?” Kaeya repeated with a scoff. “From a god?”

           “Not a god,” Albedo corrected calmly. “A vessel. If the miracles are channeled through the Lady of the Winds, then she may not be infinite in her capacity. And if the Church is aware of this... it makes their silence all the more troubling.”

           Albedo took a round pendant from his coat pocket, a familiar glass orb encased in a gold casing with an intricate insignia carved into its surface. Inside the orb was a faded symbol of three short interlaced arcs.

           Aether’s eyes widened and beside him, he heard Paimon gasp. “Isn’t that [Name]’s pendant? How did you get it?”

           Albedo glanced at them calmly. “This is just a replica I crafted. I wanted to study its origins after you asked me to repair the original. The design… it felt too deliberate to be ornamental. And I was right.” 

           Albedo placed the pendant gently on the table, the firelight catching the curves of its ornate design. Everyone leaned forward to observe and inspect the said item.

           “According to my research, this emblem traces back to a noble crest once associated with the ancient royal lineage of Old Mondstadt, prior to the rebellion against Decarabian.”

           Paimon floated closer, eyes wide. “That’s what Dr. Edith said to us too! She mentioned the same symbol in her notes about Old Mondstadt relics. There were even old folktales saying Decarabian had a daughter, but she suddenly vanished without a trace…”

           Jean’s brow furrowed. “A daughter of Decarabian…? That’s not something I’ve ever seen documented in our official archives.”

           “Most records from that era were either destroyed or buried under layers of rewritten history,” Albedo said, almost absently as he rotated the pendant with a gloved finger. “But scattered folklore and fragmented texts suggest there is indeed a young girl close to the tyrant’s side. Possibly hidden from the public for her protection... or perhaps to preserve a legacy Decarabian feared would be erased.”

           He paused, his expression more serious now. “When I examined the original pendant, I found faint traces of elemental resonance. More curiously, embedded deep within the casing was a lingering essence of a divine being. We believe it to be the residual will of Decarabian himself.”

           Kaeya raised an eyebrow, setting aside his wine. “And you’re saying [Name] could be… a descendant?”

           “No,” Albedo corrected, eyes flicking up to meet his. “Not a descendant. There are signs that the pendant belonged to her. The original owner. That [Name] is the girl who disappeared.”

           A heavy silence fell.

           “But… that’s impossible,” Jean said, her voice faltering for the first time. “Decarabian’s fall was over two thousand years ago.”

           “Which makes the miracles, the pendant, and her confinement all the more concerning,” Albedo replied. “We may not be dealing with just the favored of Barbatos... but with a relic of a former god’s bloodline itself.”

           Aether sat back slowly, the pieces beginning to fall into place. It all made sense… 

           The pendant. The elemental residue. The old blood of Decarabian.

           The confusion in your eyes when Paimon mentioned the existence of Vision.

           The sorrow Venti wore like a second skin when your name was spoken.

           It wasn’t just a loss. It was longing.

           No one knew the daughter’s existence because she had been asleep somewhere hidden. Somewhere away from the danger. And where else was sealed off but none other than Stormterror’s Lair? An area blocked by storming winds until Venti arrived to save Dvalin.

           The lair had once been Old Mondstadt. Decarabian’s tower was in Stormterror’s Lair. The daughter had never been seen again after vanishing into the tower.

           [Name] is the daughter of Decarabian. The very same girl kept hidden away during the rebellion, now awakened after an era lost to time. For you to live this long meant you possessed Decarabian’s blood, didn't it? 

           You were the only person Venti had left in his life prior to his status as an Archon. He had told Aether about his past. His story of how he met his dear bard friend and a young maiden during his time as a small wisp in the rebellion. Venti told him he had been waiting for this maiden for centuries to wake up.

           Was that why Venti was so attached to you? 

           It all pointed to a god trying desperately not to lose you.

           But at what cost?

           Aether’s gaze lifted back to the pendant. Your freedom was taken by the God of Freedom…

           The irony struck like a blade. Of all Archons, Barbatos was the one who championed liberty, who let his people walk paths of their choosing. Yet when it came to you, he had bound you tighter than any chain. A prison wrapped in worship, in silence, in sanctuary walls masked as safety.

           And Aether understood now. It wasn’t malice. It was fear. 

           Venti had already lost a nation, lost friends, lost his innocence in a war against a god. You were the last fragment of that world. The only living proof of a time he couldn’t forget.

           Aether’s hands curled into fists. He looked to Jean, Kaeya, and Albedo, their faces lit dimly by the firelight, each caught in the same unease.

           The miracles.

           The rising fervor.

           The unreachable Sanctuary…

           Everything pointed to the Anemo Archon’s wife.

           “We’ll wait for the Church’s response to the declining miracles,” Aether said, breaking the silence in the room. “We’re not yet entirely sure if [Name] really is the source of these miracles, but we can assume she has a part in it. I know the Church can't remain silent forever.”

           Kaeya sighed and leaned back on his chair, one leg crossed over the other as his eyes flicked to the empty glass, reflecting his face. “If this is truly the work of the Anemo Archon’s wife, then perhaps the answers lie with her. Though, good luck getting past the wind barriers around the Sanctuary.”

           Aether’s amber eyes shifted to the image of Barbatos illustrated in a book, his eyes filled with determination. “I’ll find a way in. I need to see her. I need to know if she’s... if she’s okay with all of this.”

           “Hmm… So you plan to confront Lord Barbatos himself, knowing full well he wants you as far from his wife as possible?” Kaeya leaned in slightly, his tone light, but deliberate. “Or is this the part where the gallant Traveler tries to rescue a maiden from the arms of a god?”

           A moment of silence passed.

           Diluc’s jaw tightened. “Kaeya,” he warned under his breath, his voice low and disapproving.

           But Kaeya only raised a hand in mock surrender, settling back with a quiet chuckle. “Relax, Master Diluc. I’m merely curious. If anyone can challenge a god on something so personal, I suppose it would be our dear Traveler.” His gaze slid back to Aether. “Just try not to upset the Anemo Archon too much. We wouldn’t want Mondstadt to turn into ruins, would we?”

           Jean coughed, catching everyone’s attention. “I’m sure all this information may be overwhelming for some of you, so please take the time to rest. I’ll be reporting to Grand Master Varka on Mondstadt’s current situation.”

           “Don’t overwork yourself, Jean! Be sure to take a break as well,” Paimon quickly reminded her. 

           The Dandelion Knight softly smiled and gave a polite nod. “I’ll go on ahead. If anyone needs me, you know where to find me.”

           Everyone nodded except for Diluc who remained quiet and unmoving, his expression unreadable as he watched the exchange in silence.

           Before leaving, Albedo stepped beside Aether and handed him the replica pendant. “Take this,” he said calmly. “It may not hold power like the original, but... it might prove useful if you intend to investigate around the Sanctuary.”

           Aether accepted it with a quiet nod, his fingers curling around the smooth, cool surface of the glass. “Thank you.”

           One by one, they all left the room, their footsteps echoing faintly against the wooden floors of Diluc’s manor. Only Aether and Diluc were left in the living room for a moment longer, his gaze still locked on the pendant resting in his palm. 

           His thoughts churned like the winds outside, questions trailing behind every answer they had found. Just as Aether and Paimon turned to leave, the low voice of the master of Dawn Winery cut through the quiet.

           “Before the two of you leave,” Diluc said evenly, arms crossed, “is there a particular reason why the meeting was held in my home? Wouldn’t it be more convenient if it were held in the Knights of Favonius Headquarters?”

           Paimon blinked, clearly caught off guard. “H-Huh? That’s a good point, now that you mention it...”

           Aether paused at the doorway, then looked over his shoulder. A faint, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

           “Because it’s harder to eavesdrop here,” he said. “And unlike the church... or the Knights... I trust you to be honest when things go wrong.”

           Diluc’s eyes narrowed slightly at the answer. Not in disapproval, but in silent understanding.

           With nothing more to say, Aether turned back toward the path outside, tucking the pendant safely in his pocket.

—

             Two days. You have been giving Venti the cold shoulder for two days.

           The night of the argument still had a bit of tension. Venti was hushing you, hugging you, and apologizing over and over until your tears had stopped. He never fought back when you were weakly punching his chest. He never pulled away when you called him selfish. He just held you tighter, afraid you’d leave him who kept him whole for all these years.

           You were his last thread. And if rejection was crawling on his back, he’d be damned what atrocious things he’d do to his own nation.

           He hadn’t left your side that night. When your tears had died down and you fell asleep in his arms, he didn’t dare let the coldness seep over your skin and brought you to your shared bed carefully. Venti kissed your dried tears, but he, too, was silently sobbing as he held you close to him, hugging you as tightly as he could without disturbing your slumber.

           He stayed like that until the first light of dawn painted the Sanctuary in pale gold. He pressed his cheek against your hair and whispered half-finished lullabies and broken apologies into the silence while his hands rested over your abdomen, drawing slow circles on your chiton dress. 

           His breath trembled with every word, and yet he didn’t stop. Not even when your expression, peaceful in sleep, reminded him of everything he feared losing.

           He didn’t know when he had fallen asleep at that time.

           But the days that followed were quieter.

           You kept your distance, speaking only when necessary. Meals were eaten in silence. You’d sit by the open archways, watching the clouds pass, while he lingered by the bridge behind you. Close, but never quite close enough.

           As much as he wanted to approach you, take your hands between his and beg for your forgiveness, he sensed you needed your own personal space. He was desperate, yes, but he didn’t want to intrude, no matter how much it hurt him the longer you remained in silence.

           Now, in the Sanctuary’s south garden, Venti sat alone on the edge of the fountain. His arms draped limply around his knees as the soft wind around him stirred, mimicking his unrest.

           Venti was contemplating what to do to ask for your forgiveness. He knew he was a fool in love with you, but he couldn't bear to see you cry. His first thought drifted to something he had long prepared, something he had been waiting for the perfect moment to arrive. 

           To propose. To proclaim his love. 

           But it didn't feel right. 

           It felt too soon. Too desperate.

           You wouldn’t accept his proposal so easily if the relationship was on the brink of shattering. Not when he was the one who had shattered your fragile heart by lying to you.

           He clenched his fist as Barbatos sat idly next to him, blank and empty like a doll. The world blurred through shimmering dots. Colors seemed to bleed together, outlines of objects blurring into hazy, indistinct shapes. 

           The world itself was weeping along with him. Or perhaps it was just the salt stinging his eyes, blurring his vision. He blinked, trying to focus, but the world remained distorted.

           A teardrop fell on the back of his hand, then another like dew of raindrops. Venti sniffed and rubbed his eyes hastily with his arm. 

            Archons, Venti was so pathetically in love with you. 

           He wanted to grip his hair, slap himself, and punch himself for being so stupid.

           Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!

           If he had just told you that you had been in a coma, this wouldn’t have happened. If he had just stopped lying, hiding everything from you, you wouldn’t be crying. If he had stopped that damn doctor and his pet snake earlier, their peaceful and perfect life would have continued. 

           It was all Zhongli’s fault. He already told him to bring his adepti, and yet he brought a mortal. A fucking mortal. Into his own abode. To check up on you.

           If Morax had brought an adeptus with medical knowledge, they wouldn’t have sputtered nonsense in front of you. If Morax had simply listened to him, he wouldn’t have resorted to using his powers to erase their memories. But alas, when a situation turned dire, he would go back to using his archon abilities. 

           Take advantage of it.

           But Venti had already done significant damage. He didn’t want to make matters worse. He didn’t want to widen this already heartbreaking relationship. He wanted to return to you. And in order to earn your forgiveness, he needed to amend his faults. 

           Venti cleared his face of tear stains as he stood up from his seat at the base of the fountain. 

           The air was too heavy around him. His chest ached, his lungs refused to expand, and his breaths refused to reach his brain. And his heart—

           It hurt.

           His heart thumped irregularly against his chest. Pain and stress flowed through his body like venom, making his bones burn in agony and his muscles twitch violently.

           He gripped his hair, pulling it as he bit his lip harshly until blood drew out.

           Come back, come back, come back, come back!

           It wasn’t Venti’s fault! 

           Morax was the one who got the mortals involved!

           But if Morax hadn't brought Dr. Baizhu, he never would have known you were carrying his child. You would have struggled fighting your sickness, so weak and so fragile. You could have died if Dr. Baizhu hadn’t given you a diagnosis. 

           You and his baby windblume could have died.

           That thought alone made him fall to his knees in defeat. What would he do? How could he patch up this relationship without any more tears to shed?

           Dust puffed out from the ground. Venti heaved, his chest heavy and tight. Everything inside him felt taut, drawn tight as if his soul was clenching against his flesh, wanting to get out. His arms and shoulders tensed, muscles jerking and straining against his skin.

           “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Come back to me, please… I’m so sorry, love.” He kept whispering apologies under his own breath as if it could reach you through the melancholic hymns of the winds. 

           Venti wanted to kick himself. He had already sent Morax away, calling him stupid and irresponsible. It was an insult, but it was the truth, and Venti doesn’t deny his feelings anymore.

           Morax should have listened to his warnings!

           What would he do? What had he done before to patch up the relationship?

           Venti felt something metallic graze against his thigh.

           He blinked, eyes still stinging, and reached down with trembling fingers. His fake vision had slipped from beneath his robes. It was cool to the touch, its glassy surface glinting faintly under the soft sunlight.

           Then something clicked in his head.

           In a hurry, he snapped his fingers and strong gusts of wind gathered around him. 

           Why hadn't he thought of this earlier?

           Teal feathers fluttered gently and a bright light surrounded his hands until he could clearly see an orb take shape.

           As his thumb brushed across it, the orb pulsed. Hastily, he searched through the series of sequences that played. Images of a dark-haired boy with a brown cloak and a [hair color] dressed in a navy blue cloak played, smiling at each other as the boy held her close, cupping her cheek with fondness.

           There must be something here he could find. Something he did back then… something his friend had said or given to make you smile again.

           Venti’s fingers curled tightly around your memory orb, cradling it as faint teal light danced against his trembling hands. The winds around him stilled and the first image flickered to life.

           The same dark-haired boy returned, twirling clumsily beneath the twinkling night sky. Across from him was the [hair color] girl giggling, the flowers lighting up with each step they took together through a field of luminescent flowers. The young man reached for her hand, pulling her into a playful spin as soft glimmers of the fireflies’ lights danced around their feet.

           He plucked a flower and gently tucked it behind her ear. The maiden smiled shyly, her cheeks softly tinted with pink as her soft gaze cast downward before the bard nudged her chin up with a tender insistence. The wind stirred around them lightly, wrapping their silhouettes in swirls of dandelion seeds and fireflies. 

           He looked at her as if she were the only melody he wanted to preserve in the dissonant world. His voice was unheard in the orb, yet his lips moved with affection, saying something Venti already knew by heart. 

           Then, the maiden laughed. A small, beautiful sound that made her throw her head back slightly, glowing as if the moon itself leaned down to kiss her cheek.

           And all the while, the bard simply held her, his forehead pressed against hers, his hand never leaving her face, not even when the memory began to blur.

           Venti stared.

           He hadn’t remembered this scene in such detail before. Or perhaps, he never allowed himself to look too closely. It wasn’t him in that memory. Not exactly.

           But the longing was the same. The yearning. The way his dear friend had looked at you was the way Venti felt whenever he glanced at you now.

           Venti sniffed and wiped his tears away with the back of his hand as the memory continued to play. His fingers trembled as he lowered his hand, the orb disappearing as the last traces of feathers dissolved into the wind. He looked back at the tower, wondering where you might be, wondering if you missed him just as he had missed you.

           Sighing, he pushed back his hair and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths to relax and calm the storm in his mind. He needed to be quick. He needed to prepare everything fast. But this would take time, and he couldn’t do this alone…

           His energy was quickly draining and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold. 

           The quicker he could resolve this, the sooner he could recover. 

           When he moved to stand upright, his knees buckled slightly, and he exhaled sharply through his nose. Across the garden, the wisp perched at the fountain’s edge flickered, then dissolved into scattered teal motes, its borrowed energy returning to its master.

           With whatever strength and energy Venti could muster, he snapped his fingers. A parchment unfurled midair, and the tip of the quill hovered shakily above its surface before he began to write in silence. The strokes weren’t as graceful as they used to be, but the message bled through clearly.

           The Church would never fail him; that truth alone was enough for him to start his preparations. The parchment rolled and vanished into the breeze toward the cathedral spires. They would handle the rest. They always had.

           The Anemo Archon only needed to see his wife’s smile return. 

—

          “This or that?”

           “That.”

           A gust of wind brushed over Paimon and Aether who were strolling along the cobbled path. The small fairy crossed her arms over her chest and huffed.

           “Hmm… Paimon didn’t expect you to be so frugal.”

           “I’d rather spend my mora on weapons than on multiple dishes you’ll barely finish.”

           “Ah! Rude!”

           Aether’s lips quirked up faintly, though his eyes scanned the square ahead. The plaza was quieter than usual. Even though they had continued with their daily lives since the restoration, the townsfolk seemed more reserved today. Perhaps they had finally noticed the decrease in the miracles.

           Three days had passed and the Church still remained silent. 

           “Mondstadt is so quiet today… should we go to the Knights of Favonius and check in with Jean?”

           Before the blonde traveler could reply, his ears caught on the hushed conversation between merchants and passersby.

           “The crops haven’t bloomed the way they used to…”

           “Do you think the Anemo Archon is angry at us…?” The woman whispered.

           “I don’t know... But I heard the Church of Favonius will be holding a proclamation today. We should visit the cathedral and pray once more… maybe Lord Barbatos will hear our prayers…”

           So they weren’t being kept in the dark after all. If the Church remained silent, the people would drown in their fears and uneasiness, and who knows what would happen to this nation.

           Lost in his own train of thought, Aether paid no mind to Paimon’s calls, and he certainly didn’t notice a brunette girl approaching him.

           “Traveler?”

           A voice called. He blinked and turned to see a familiar face. It was one of Diluc’s winery staff he saw a few days ago. What was her name again? Aura? Ariel?

           He scrunched his brows, trying his hardest to remember. 

           “Oh, hey! You’re the girl we saw a few days ago at Diluc’s manor, right?” Paimon hovered closer, eyes narrowing in thought. “Um… Laura? No— Arla! That was it!”

           The girl smiled faintly. “Close enough. But it’s Aurel.”

           Aether gave her a nod of recognition. “You work for the winery, don’t you?”

           Aurel politely nodded and showed him a basket of bread she was holding. “I just finished my work. I’m on my way to the cathedral.”

            Aether glanced in the same direction, noting the distant cathedral spire rising over the rooftops of Mondstadt. “We’re headed there too,” he said. “We heard something might be happening.”

           “Oh? So you’ve heard the Church has a proclamation today? The sisters invited everyone to join the gathering this morning.”

           Paimon hummed unsurely, “Well, not the actual event itself. Mondstadt has been so quiet today, and we want to investigate what’s going on.” 

           Aurel smiled a bit, but her eyes reflected a more grim light. “People are talking about the miracles, and there’s no doubt it will reach the Church’s ears.”

           A gust of silence fell between them briefly as they crossed the square. “Do you come to the Church often?” Aether asked.

           She nodded. “Twice a week if I can manage. My mother has been sick for a long time… I come to pray at the Sanctuary’s shrine for her healing and offer gifts and flowers for the Divine Couple. A bottle of cider when I can afford it.”

           Paimon tilted her head. “Offer?”

           Aurel smiled wistfully. “Well, I’m not the only one. There’s been a surge of visitors to the shrine lately. Especially in the last three months.”

           They turned a corner, and the cathedral came into view, its stained glass glowing with filtered sunlight.

           Aurel’s gaze softened as she continued, “Every time I passed by, I’d hear the sisters rejoicing over the betrothal of Lady of the Wind to Lord Barbatos. My little sister would often come back home and tell me the stories from the Church. One time, she said that the Anemo Archon is showering blessings upon Mondstadt because his heart is filled with love.”

           She paused to glance at Aether. “Some say the more he is satisfied, the more miracles appear. I always thought it was a strange way to word it. But… the past two weeks have been full of blessings…”

           She clutched the basket of bread a little tighter. “That’s why so many come to the shrine now. To offer thanks. To offer prayers. It’s as if… they want to keep them happy.”

           Aether looked ahead again, his lips tight with thought. 

           Miracles occur because the Divine Couple is happy… 

           He remembered their discussion back at Diluc’s manor and their speculations. Were these miracles really coming from you and Venti? It was only a possibility that you may be the root of it, but if these blessings were declining, does that mean something happened at the Sanctuary?

           Aurel noticed his troubled visage and chuckled. 

           “Take my words with a grain of salt, Traveler. These are merely gossip from us and not the official message from the Church. You know how quickly word spreads and how people twist tales for their own pleasure.” 

           The traveler’s lips parted slightly, brushing his finger over his cheek sheepishly.

           Right. Now that the Church had finally made a call, Aether hoped he could get some more clues.

           “What about you?” Aurel asked, turning her head to his direction. 

           “Me?” Aether pointed to himself with a raised brow.

           “I’ve seen you near the shrine a few times... I wanted to say something before, but Acting Grand Master Jean was usually with you. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

           Aether blinked owlishly. “Oh… I didn’t realize.”

           “It’s fine. Whenever I visit the shrine and stumble upon you, you look like…” Aurel’s purple optics flicked to his as her voice lowered. “…you were trying to find a way to get in.”

           Aether’s eyes widened, and he quickly turned to her with a gaping mouth. His heart raced and sweat rolled down his neck. Before Aurel could throw another question, a new sound carried over the breeze.

           Murmurs. Dozens of them.

           As they reached the outer steps of the cathedral, a small crowd had already gathered. Mondstadters were murmuring amongst themselves, brows furrowed and voices hushed.

           “Has the Anemo Archon abandoned us?”

           “He was happy, wasn’t he…? Why did the miracles stop?”

           “We need answers! Where’s the Church and why aren’t they telling us anything?!”

           Paimon floated a little higher, peering over the heads of the crowd. “Woah, there are so many people today… even more than usual.”

           Aether scanned the faces. Some were anxious. Others confused. But all of them looked toward the cathedral with anticipation and worry in their eyes.

           “Everyone! Please calm down and wait patiently! The Herald of Lord Barbatos will arrive soon.”

           Aether saw Jean at the sidelines, calming the crowd. The rest of the Knights were also with her, keeping an eye on things. They seemed worried. Jean, in particular, didn’t smile or wave. Her mouth was a thin line as her sky-blue eyes bore holes into the ground, fists clenched at her sides.

           Aether glanced up at the towering cathedral doors. They hadn’t opened yet. But the pressure in the air was palpable.

           Then, faintly, the sound of bells began to toll from the belfry. Not the jubilant peals of celebration, but a slower, solemn rhythm.

           People turned toward the doors, the murmurs fading into silence as a young man stepped into view. He wore a pristine white cap with two black points accented with gold lining. With the same pure color and accent, his robes caught glints of sunlight with each step. Soft rose-pink hair framed his face, and a serene yet enigmatic expression rested on his delicate features. In his hands, he held a scroll tied with a mint green ribbon.

           Paimon clung to Aether’s shoulder with a nervous frown. “I have a bad feeling about this…”

           Aurel’s eyes narrowed. Her ears filtered out the anxious rustling of the crowd, her attention locked on the pink-haired figure as he unfurled the parchment.

           “People of Mondstadt and children of the wind, I ask you now to listen with open hearts for I bring news long awaited,” he began and the murmurs diminished to silence as all their attention was set on him.

           “Many among you have asked why the winds have been quiet, why the rains have come late, why the harvests have felt thinner, and the air colder. It is not judgment. It is not abandonment. Our Archon, Lord Barbatos, has not turned away. He has simply turned inward, choosing for a time to watch over his beloved.”

           Aether’s brows furrowed slightly. He leaned down toward Aurel and whispered low, “Who is that?”

           Aurel barely turned, her eyes still fixed on the speaker. “That’s Deacon Dahlia,” she murmured. “He’s the Church of Favonius’s high deacon. He’s also the voice and messenger of the Anemo Archon.”

           Aether returned his gaze to the deacon with renewed attention.

           Dahlia’s voice rang once more through the plaza. He didn’t raise his tone, but somehow, it still reached every ear and every heart.

           Aether’s thoughts whirred, and he asked again, albeit in an urgent tone, “Does he have close contact with the Anemo Archon?”

           Aurel raised her brow and glanced at him through her peripheral vision. “More or less. He’s the messenger, so of course he has Lord Barbatos’s favor.”

           He returned his attention to the deacon and narrowed his golden eyes, trying to grasp something from this assembly. 

           As if sensing the traveler’s gaze, Dahlia’s eyes briefly flicked toward Aether. For a second, his expression shifted. Not hostility. Not recognition. A flicker of skepticism at an unknown outlander.

           Then Dahlia’s gaze swept back over the crowd. His gentle smile returned, and he opened his arms wide as both priests behind him pressed their palms together in prayer.

           “The Lady of the Winds, beloved of our Anemo Archon, is expecting a child!” he announced.

           The whole plaza gasped, some awed in disbelief. Murmurs rippled across the gathered crowd as birds flew off from the cathedral spires when the bell rang loudly once again. Some women were clutching their hands to their mouths as their eyes welled up with tears. A few elders whispered prayers under their breath, while several younger attendees turned to one another in curiosity and confusion.

           "Now, as the truth is made known, let us rejoice!" Dahlia declared as his voice rose high. “For though the winds paused, they shall rise again. And when they do, they will carry not only blessing, but a new breath, a new voice, a new song born of wind and grace.”

           A hand shot up from the crowd. Dahlia turned to them with a patient smile.

           “Yes, my dear?”

           “You said the Lord has not abandoned us… He will still continue showering us with his blessings, right?”

           Dahlia gave a reassuring nod.

           “Indeed. But from this point on, we must understand that these blessings are now intimately tied to the Divine Couple’s well-being. When the Lord is joyful, his winds flow freely. When his Lady smiles, the land flourishes. And when both hearts are light, Mondstadt knows prosperity.”

           He paused, letting that settle before adding gently, “But should sorrow touch them, the winds may falter.”

           Another hush and the crowd grew solemn.

           The two priests then stepped forward in perfect synchronicity. “When the Lady smiles, the Archon’s joy will return. And the winds shall once again sing across Mondstadt,” they said in unison. 

           Dahlia rolled the scroll and looked down at the crowd. “Know this, the Lord still watches over us. He has not turned away,” he continued with a firm voice. “But if you wish for blessings to return in full, then give back your love. Visit the shrine. Offer your prayers. Let the Divine Couple know their people walk with them, even in times of quiet.”

           Dahlia bowed his head one last time and turned his heels. The two priests followed behind, guiding him back toward the tall cathedral doors.

           Aether’s breath hitched as his eyes followed their shrinking figures amongst the sea of the crowd. 

           Dahlia is the Anemo Archon’s messenger. He knows what’s going on inside the Sanctuary.

           Those were the only thoughts running through the traveler's mind right now. An objective. A mission to accomplish he gave to himself. All to free you from the place where Venti’s people worshipped you. 

           He knew Venti had become too paranoid and overprotective, to the point where you mustn't stray far from his side. The god was overflowing with feelings— perhaps overflowing with happiness because of these miracles and blessings— at the knowledge you were bearing his child.

           And because of the declination, it must be related to how you reacted to it. That was his best guess. 

           Without thinking, his body pushed forward through the thick crowd. 

           He couldn't let this chance slip away. Dahlia must also know about you and your whereabouts.

           “Wait!” Aether shouted, weaving through cloaks and shoulders. 

           “Aether!” Paimon called out behind him, flitting after his trail. “Hey! Where are you going?!”

     ��     Aurel, still standing idly at the plaza as she digested the Church’s words, saw the traveler cut through the gathering in haste. People shouted and glared at the blonde man. Her eyes widened upon the realization of what Aether was doing. She glanced back at the murmuring crowd, then down at her basket, second-guessing her choices. 

           Finally, with a deep, reluctant sigh, she shook her head and ran in the direction from which Aether came. He may be the Honorary Knight and Mondstadt’s hero, but she needs to catch Aether before he does anything reckless.

           By the time the blonde traveler reached the threshold of the cathedral, the heavy doors had not yet shut. He stepped inside with his heart pounding loudly in his ears. With a loud voice, his voice echoed across the high marble arches.

           “Wait!”

           Dahlia and the two priests halted in the middle of the candle-lit nave, the lingering scent of incense curling in the air. They turned slowly, the two priests unsurprised except for the pink-haired deacon, as if they were expecting this.

           The traveler's boots echoed on the polished marble as he stepped forward, panting slightly from the chase.

           “You’re… you’re the herald of the Anemo Archon...” Aether said between breaths. “You can reach him, right?”

           Dahlia regarded him with a calm but bewildered gaze, his lashes half-lowered in thought. “Indeed, I am,” he answered softly. “Though I am just a mere messenger entrusted with passing his words to his children.”

           Aurel and Paimon had finally caught up to him, the pair standing near the cathedral doors as they caught their breaths. Paimon was the first to trail after him, quickly hovering near Aether with a nervous look on her face. Aurel flinched upon seeing the two knights guarding the door. They may have seen them but chose to say nothing. She slowly stepped forward and listened from a distance, as if one single echo from her shoes would mean a disturbance in this sacred palace.

           “Can… can we request an audience with him and his wife?” Aether’s voice wavered with desperation as he stepped closer. 

           The silence that followed was palpable. Dahlia stiffened and his expression faltered into something unreadable. His purple eyes widened with unease before flicking toward the two priests beside him. The clerics exchanged sharp, knowing glances, their eyes narrowing in warning as they turned their attention back to the traveler.

           “I… I’m afraid not,” Dahlia finally said. His voice was low as though the very question had summoned a chill in the air. “Lord Barbatos prefers to keep their solace undisturbed… It is a sacred time for them both.”

           “Then what about a message?” Aether took another step forward as his voice raised slightly. “We don’t even need to step foot near the tower! Just let him know what’s happening. Please, just ask him to give [Name] her freedom!”

           Dahlia’s mouth remained slightly ajar, but no words came. The priests looked increasingly tense. One of them placed a hand subtly on the edge of his robes.

           “She doesn’t deserve this,” Aether continued, voice rising with each breath. “You all call her the Lady of the Winds, but she’s locked away in that tower like some secret no one’s allowed to speak of! She was deceived, and now she’s trapped. And none of you are doing anything about it!”

           A heavy silence fell along the quiet hall. Aurel sensed the increasing tension between Aether and church members and quickly marched to his side, disregarding the pair of eyes fixed on her at the noise her heels made on the tiled floors.

           Dahlia’s features hardened, though the guilt in his gaze was unmistakable. He turned slightly toward the cathedral guards standing near the entrance with his jaw tight.

           “She deserves better,” Aether cried, stepping forward again. “Barbatos is keeping her there against her will, isn’t he?!”

           Aurel grabbed his shoulder. “Traveler, that’s enough—“

           But Aether pulled his arm free with a harsh shrug, shaking off her grip without looking her way. “She’s being deceived!” he yelled. “She has a right to choose her fate! Why won’t any of you do something?!”

           The cathedral guards were already in motion, their heavy boots echoing against the marble floor. Steel-clad hands closed around Aether’s arms, yanking them behind his back. He struggled, muscles tensing with resistance. 

           “Wait— just listen!” Aether shouted, backing away a step, but it was too late. He struggled instinctively, but the weight of the guards' grip was unyielding. “You can’t just ignore this!”

           Aurel stepped back in alarm, her hand hovering midair as though unsure whether to intervene or withdraw. But one of the knights misread her proximity and, in the commotion, grabbed her by the wrist as well. The basket of bread fell on the floor with a thud and rolled away as she cried out in pain.

           “W-Wait—!” she gasped, caught off guard. “I didn’t—I'm not involved!”

           “She’s with him!” One of the priests barked. “Take the fairy as well.”

           Paimon whirled around with wide eyes as another guard rushed in and seized her. “What?! No! You have to be joking, right?!" 

           “Stop! At least let Aurel go!” Aether shouted, his struggling renewed with twice the force. “She had nothing to do with this!”

           But the knights remained resolute. With an iron-tight grip, they dragged the three out. Paimon struggled desperately between the guard's hold, kicking and shouting. “H-hey, stop this! Aren’t you both from the Knights of Favonius?! Don’t you know he’s the Honorary Knight?!”

           “[Name]’s not safe with him!” Aether’s voice echoed against the stone pillars of the hall. “Barbatos is not who you think he is!”

           Dahlia said nothing more, his mouth pressed in a tight line as the situation quickly grew out of control. His eyes followed Aether’s retreating form, emotions clashing and swirling in their depths.

           “She has a right,” Aether shouted one last time, his voice ragged and hoarse. “Please… just let her go!”

           The grand doors of the cathedral slammed shut behind him, leaving only the fading echoes of his cries to disturb the silence.

           Dahlia flinched visibly, his eyes scrunching tight and his teeth clenched as he looked away. The taller cleric stepped beside him, laying a firm hand on his shoulder.

           “Do not forget your place, Deacon,” the man said coldly. “You speak for the Anemo Archon, not against him.”

mhmm I love me church politics. next chapter would be the longest of all the chapters. all I can say is you sinners would be having a whole feast ahead in the future lol

[maester-of-spreadsheets]

i do have Pilgrimage on as background noise bc I was going to request it. and for the millionth time it has me going "seriously WHAT happened in the backstory between all these normans and priests and former crusaders." i love that we mostly don't find out but it does have me insanely curious

omg gonna have to call it on this candy hearts signup and delete it. writing prompts is like pulling teeth right now even though I have a very clear idea of what I want to request

[serpentface]

I’ve been on a gemology kick lately; so-if you feel up to it-I’d love to learn which precious and semiprecious stones occur in Imperial Wardin, and which species are considered the most valuable. Are any stones associated with specific faces of God, or otherwise carry spiritual or superstitious connotations?

Just in general, the traditional medicine practice here ascribes a spiritual Essence to each type of matter (minerals, metals, plants, different types of water, different body parts from different animals, etc) which plays into how it can or cannot be used for healing. So most commonly occurring stones are going to have Some associations Somewhere, but for a lot of them it's just going to be like 'worn around the hips in a sachet it will reduce stomach aches' or etc.

Here's a few of the big ones I've had at least partly established though (some of these are metals but bear with me)

Meteroric iron can be found in fairly large quantities here (due to the ancient impact that left the Sons Of Creation crater lake) and is considered to be the physical remnants of God's blood shed in the act of creation. This is THE holiest naturally occurring material, as it is the only substance that is regarded as being a discrete part of God's original, LIVING body (the whole World is Its dead body) and the blood is the carrier of living spirit, one of two types of soul in each body. Meteor iron is essentially God's soul in physical form.

This substance has the most severe doctrinal restrictions surrounding its use. Actual modification of meteoric iron and use of objects made from it (knives scepters etc) is considered reserved to priests and royalty, and violations can be punished very severely (though in practice this is very, very difficult to enforce outside of thefts of known meteoric iron objects, as they aren't visually distinct from other iron objects). Touching this iron is strictly forbidden for any person considered to be ritually unclean (whether as a temporary or permanent state).

Its most ubiquitous use is in the form of sacrificial blades, which are only considered legitimate when made of this substance. It's also used to make cult icons. The temple at the Sons of Creation (which is a general pilgrimage destination and the site of the annual dry season human sacrifice) holds a fairly large meteoric iron sculpture of God in Its primordial form. This cult object is venerated year round, and carried out of the temple during the offering to 'receive' the sacrifice (which signifies the completion of the annual cyclings of God's living spirit). This icon is wholly forbidden to touch for everyone but the human sacrifice themself, who lays their hands on its forehead while their throat is cut.

As a physical relic of God's original body, it's not considered uniquely related to any of the Faces but in practice is associated with Mitlamache (itself partly associated with blood and sacrifice). Galenii have their ears pierced and stretched and wear bands of meteor iron as a marker of service, and the great temple to Mitlamache in Ephennos has a large, unmodified chunk of meteor iron as a cult object that is permitted to be touched by worshippers.

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Lapis lazuli is one of the other discrete remnants of God's physical body (in this case one of three horns) though it lacks the nigh-untouchable Holy status due to being a post-death relic.

It's called 'blue moonstone' and believed to be pieces of the 'blue moon' (which isn't like, really blue, but has a slight bluish tinge). There is no Bad Place afterlife in this religion (the bad afterlife is being stuck as an earthbound ghost), but the proper afterlife is divided into three lunar lands, with the most honored dead going to those of this blue moon. This stone has particular associations with concepts of honor, piety, and physical/spiritual purity.

Deep blue colors tend to be associated with wealth and royalty, and lapis has taken on this association as well. The double-viper scepter carried by the Usoma has lapis lazuli insets for eyes and scales, and the post-cremation skulls of royalty are given a lapis crown before interment. In conjunction, lapis has gained more recent associations with the face Kusomache as the protector of royalty, and it's utilized as offerings in rites intended to bless them.

It's also among the most valued stones in general for its beauty, used in jewelry, pigments, sculpture, and very expensive blue eyeliner.

Moonstone and selenite are associated with the other two moons (the largest in the sky and the smallest respectively) and are the other two stones considered to be discrete bodily relics of God (from its other two sets of horns).

All three of these 'moonstones' are involved in funerary rites. The dead may have one of these stones placed in their hands before cremation. Dogs killed at funerals to serve as guides are encouraged to sniff these stones before their death, in order to have the scent of the lunar lands and better lead the deceased. Neither aspect is considered a hard Requirement to get the dead safely onwards, but its an additional level of failsafe.

All three are considered sacred to the Face Kusomache (rather than the more obvious lunar Mitlamache) due to their heavy association with death and the afterlife. Moonstone and selenite in particular are likened to the light from the moons and stars, and transparent selenite is used by astrologers as a lens, under the belief that it exposes subtle nuances in the light and movement of heavenly bodies. Folk belief holds that you can see ghosts by looking through selenite.

All three have some restrictions surrounding their use, but not nearly as severe as those of meteor iron. Anyone can use, wear, and modify these stones, but touching them in a ritually impure state is taboo. Some folk beliefs hold that a woman who touches any moonstone while menstruating will be cursed with barrenness, miscarriages, or death.

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Opal is heavily associated with rainbows (and rain by extension), and is considered sacred to the Face Anaemache. It is appreciated for its beauty and ascribed as having positive medicinal qualities for female fertility when worn. Broad folk belief holds that opal forms where a rainbow touches the ground, or that its a solidified drop of rain that has fallen through a rainbow.

Some South Wardi folk practices retain older Wardinae beliefs in the sky-serpent deity that physically brings the rains (often conceptualizing it as a lesser spirit that serves the Face Anaemache) and consider opals to be pieces of its shed scales. These sects share a nearly identical practice with the Cholemdinae people in using opals to both summon and repel the sky serpent as needed. A serpent effigy stitched from cloth with an opal sewn into the head can be used as the focal point for these rites. The serpent can be summoned by singing a coullagri (summoning prayer) to the effigy as it's carried into the village or crops, and providing the effigy offerings of food and drink to welcome it. In years of damaging and excessive rain, the sky-serpent is driven off with a decisively more high-energy rite where the effigy bearer runs around with the cloth serpent while others chase it, chide it for its laziness (just sitting in one place instead of bringing the rains everywhere like God intended), yell at it, whack it with flyswatters, etc, until it is carried out of the village.

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Rubies have are considered sacred stones to the face Inyamache and have strong associations with the sun, male vitality, and bravery.

They're ascribed positive medicinal qualities for male fertility and health when worn. Folk belief holds that a man clasping a ruby in one hand during sex will guarantee any resulting offspring to be male, though sources disagree on Which hand this is exactly.

Rubies have some involvement in warrior culture. Ruby-adorned khattanocuy (the khaitsmane tassels ornaments you see on the front of some characters' belts) are awarded for displays of valor, and most ceremonial weapons are decorated with ruby insets.

The (wholly mythological) spear of the culture-hero Erub is said to have had a head made entirely of ruby. It's described in texts as being given to him by (the old solar deity reinterpreted as) Inyamache, so sharp and strong that it could fly clean through a khait's body, and to 'drink the blood of its victims' (which may have been meant literally). It's widely believed that this was a real artifact, was stolen by Burri soldiers during the first period of occupation, and is now hidden somewhere in the flooded ruins of Old Bur.

Rubies aren't very well distinguished from the similar looking spinel and garnet, and the three together are usually referred to under the same name.

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Silver is regarded for its beauty and thought to have purifying/protective medicinal and apotropaic qualities. It is thought to assist in expelling disease-causing dagi spirits from the body, and is both worn and ingested as a medical treatment. High quality protective phallus/skimmer woman amulets tend to be made from silver to add Extra Protection, and drinking/eating from silver dishware is thought to help eliminate poisons.

Some folk traditions consider touching silver to be a replacement for water ablutions, though this is doctrinally condemned.

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Pearl is very similar to silver, highly regarded for its beauty, believed to have purifying and protective qualities, and sometimes being ingested medicinally. Most non-blue pelatoche eye amulets are made of pearl (or mother of pearl in some cases). It is considered sacred to the face Pelennaumache and is a key offering to this deity-aspect.

A very widespread folk belief holds that drinking while holding a pearl under the tongue prevents intoxication. This is hard to confirm or deny, as people drinking heavily with a pearl under the tongue have a tendency of accidentally swallowing said pearl in the process

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[grasshopperdoingdogpaddle]

Do you have any hcs for good!Chase in that alternate timeline in which Clay becomes the leader? What are his dynamics with other monks because with Omi it's quite obvious (he's basically his dad)

When he was with Master Fung and the group as a whole, Chase was essentially a TA to Master Fung, but that's not what he was usually doing.

Master Monk Chase still sort of did his separate thing and did pilgrimages and solo missions like we see Guan doing, he simply chooses to work with the Xiaolin temple much more closely and base himself there instead of splintering to his own temple. He's still usually not part of the kids' Shen Gong Wu hunts.

Even after Master Fung is gone, Chase stills goes off on his own to do solo missions (like searching for Omi himself when Omi sneaks off back to the temple, something Chase does seem like he really filled the others in on).

So he doesn't really consider himself in charge of supervising them or acting other them-- that was Master Fung before, and now it's Clay. Chase sort of becomes Clay's occasional TA, but they still operate semi-autonomously.

Chase leaves most decisions about the monks to Clay. This new home, the farmland, Master Fung's statue-- those things are all Clay. Chase doesn't feel any need to question or challenge Clay's position, and is certainly not competing with him for it.

Master Fung and the other three monks who aren't Omi facilitate a lot of mutual growth in each other throughout the main series, and they do a lot of the same here. So you can tell Master Fung was still their main teacher.

Master Fung still helps Raimundo learn discipline and duty and to stop hiding behind a class clown status to avoid his fear of applying himself that Raimundo leaned on to avoid failure, and Raimundo still helps Master Fung learn to be more gentle and more empathetic with his lessons and more willing to bend and take their input into consideration and respect his students more. Master Fung still helps teach Kimiko how to calm down and find her center when she wants to and Kimiko helps teach Master Fung how to be emotionally intelligent and emotionally available for a kid who is crying or breaking down and needs a soft hand. Master Fung still helps Clay find a home away from the suffocating environment of the Bailey Family home and in praising Clay for his out-of-the-box thinking, and Clay stills helps Master Fung in being the support and foundation the team needs.

Chase's involvement indirectly smoothed out a lot of the internal affairs with the monks from the series. That, and Hannibal's presence from the start meaning that Wuya was slightly less hard pressed in needing a lackey outside of Jack.

Either way, in some way or another, I don't think Raimundo betrayed the monks in this timeline. Raimundo's conflict with and resentment towards Master Fung still happened, but it was a much smaller hiccup and they resolved it differently, since the permanent cracks in the group's dynamic that Raimundo left from his betrayal don't seem to be present in the alternate timeline.

Kimiko seems pretty friendly towards Chase, since she was the only one who stopped what she was doing to wave and greet him when Chase returned after what must have been a very sudden and unexplained departure. Though Chase's restrained greeting back is definitely something less personal and animated than he had with Omi a few minutes prior.

But Kimiko is also very willing to pass the Lao Mang Lone off to Chase where she vehemently stopped Raimundo from drinking it. So despite being the one of the monks who's probably friendliest with Chase, this also shows still shows that distance that still exists between Chase and the other three.

Outside of Chase's personal attachment to Omi and tendency to personally interfere in directly Omi-related matters, Chase ultimately keeps himself at that distance with the others and asks them to operate their team according to their generation's decisions. He's certainly happy for them when they do, but he also doesn't consider himself a necessary part of it.

Chase also helped iron out a lot of the drama of the leader selection, since that had to happen shortly after they lost Master Fung and the temple.

Namely, I think Chase just went ahead and declared that, although they shouldn't compete or backbite each other since the universe would be making the call in the end, Omi was not in the running-- he was the youngest and was still essentially Chase's protégé. Especially since when the topic of leadership came up, one of he monks probably pointed out Chase's very open favoritism towards Omi and asked if that would tip the scales, and Chase had to clarify that. (Because Omi freezing himself in this time had nothing to do with the leadership selection. Everyone already fully expects Omi to know that Clay is already the leader. Something else motivated Omi there.)

Chase's presence also irons out a lot of the internal conflicts in the team because he was there for Omi, and vice versa.

And Chase and Omi still facilitate mutual growth in each other-- Chase was very jaded after losing Guan and Dashi, and Omi is who helped Chase softened and come back out of his shell after 1500 years of being pretty closed off to the world. Even though Chase never really went full scorched earth the way Guan does in the main timeline, Omi is what anchors him and helps him be who he is today.

And Chase being Omi's favorite person from the start and the person he clings to frees Master Fung and Omi of their uncomfortable one-sided relationship where both Master Fung and Omi wants the other to be something and someone they just can never be and don't really want to be. In Omi's moments of acting out or feeling isolated, he has Chase to cling to. That's why Omi hasn't thrown caution to the wind and jumped into the Yin-Yang world to rescue Master Fung at any cost in this world.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Known your not feeling well and I'm sorry to ask but this idea for jttw stoen egg au just kept nagging at me. This takes place during the Journey of course since it's, essentially, during and right after the Camel Ridge incident.

After the rather disastrous meeting of Wukong's brothers, whom entire existence explains way too much about their most chaotic member for the Pilgrim's comfort, particularly in regards to his habit ofmputting himself into danger without a second thought and reavted to even the alightest hint of failure, Tripitaka determines they need a break. So they find an inn.

Macaque, he lost his eye. Unlike in the other aus, it wasn't Wukong who took it. It was Azure. And Wukong is absolutely distraught over both how things escalated and how he had unintentionally been forced into the position of a damsel in distress by Azure. The way his trusted elder brothers, whom he had looked up to, had turned against him and how the man he had admired had crippled his precious mate to whom he only recently reunited with he himself unable to do anything due to his baby! How he had intentionally kept Macaque away from him, he later discovered. It all culminated into a very, very upset monkey.

Macaque for the most part is okay with the loss of his eye. As far as he's concerned, it's a small price to pay for to make up for how horrible a mate he's been to his Peaches and what any person would do to protect their mate. He's too injured to really do much of anything, but he tries to stay as close to Wukong as possible. Ao Lie finds it sweet.

Tripitaka, however, is not happy. He had trusted in the bonds of Wukong's family, having had nothing but good, if terrifying experiences with them, and had nearly lost Wukong because he'd trusted the wrong demon! He isn't mad at Wukong or Macaque, as neither were really at fault since nobody expected Azure to pull that stunt, but the fact it happened angers him. To discover his first disciple had suffered and been betrayed by one he trusted enough to call brother is nothing less than an outrage to him. The more he learns about Wukong's treatment by the Brotherhood from Macaque, the more Tripitaka wishes he had not been a pacifist.

Wujing and Baije have had their worlds rocked in an irreparable way. They'd already accepted that their belief about Wukong being the monster they had once thought he was most certainly had been destroyed by then. Zu Baijie has even come to tease Wukong as his Little Big Brother and looked forward to being an uncle for Wukong's cub! But to discover all of Heaven's beliefs about the Havoc and the War thay followed was a fallacy created by one man who manipulated their brother into doing the crimes he did when he was but a cub... it doesn't sit right for either of them, and they notably stand closer and more protectively of Wukong for a bit. As close as his overprotective mate will allow them, at least, yikes! And Baijie had thought Ao Lie was aggressively protective! He's got nothing on the shadow monkey!

prev.

Ohhhh the idea of Mac losing his eye to Azure in the Jttw SE au is galaxy brain. Since Mac lost his eye in his canon fight with Wukong, losing the eye whilst choosing to protect Wukong is a really good story twist!

The Pilgrims and the Brotherhood are not having a good first meeting, and Macaque sees it all go down.

He hates the Pilgrims personally; dragging his King away from the island where he's needed, forcing him to act as an errand boy for the Buddha, that disgusting circlet with the mantra even he feels in his skull.

Macaque had watched Wukong and his travelling companions from afar long before revealing himself to them. He had overheard the jubilant calls from Flower Fruit Mountain that the King had returned - but also heard the disappointed confirmation that he had chosen to continue on a pilgrimage with the Tang Monk to Thunderclap Monastery. The shadow monkey had leapt from his employment with Jiuweihuli to devote himself entirely to tracking down his returned mate (the vixen had not minded, she understood that her protégé's heart was yearning).

Macaque trailed the group for weeks before the Brotherhood ever thought to ask him for his input. Macaque had spat his hatred for the hypocritical monk, the perverted swine, the thoughtless fish, and the useless dragon-horse, so venomously that the three demon kings were convinced of his loyalty to them.

However, Macaque's disdain for the Pilgrims did *not* mean his devotion to Wukong swayed. Because something disgusts him even more than this whole Journey;

How his former brother Azure treats Wukong.

Treating Macaque's King, his Peaches, his Mate; like he owned him. That Wukong surrendering was tantamount to betrayal. They speak of him as though he's one of the gods that repressed them. Their sworn brother, the person who sacrificed his freedom for their survival!

Then Azure grabs Wukong by the shoulder and orders that the king stay in Camel Ridge. Giving their former leader an offer that sounds far too layered and provocative to be one of mere loyalty...

Macaque: "I'm going to have to stop you right there Azure. Wukong goes where he damn well pleases. And if he doesn't want to stay here with you, then he should be allowed to leave." Azure: (*dumbstruck by Macaque's outburst*) Peng: (*shocked but impressed bird noise!*) Yellow Tusk: (*calmly prepares for the rumble thats about to go down*) Wukong, in awe at Mac's protective act: "Mihou..." Macaque, rushes over to Wukong: "Peaches... I- I thought it was wrong for you to go on this pilgrimage, but you've... healed. You were really hurt when they sent you under that mountain, I saw it first hand, and even though I don't care for your companions-" Zhu Bajie: "Hey!" Macaque, continues: "-they clearly have your best interests in mind. They jump to protect you, even though they know you're strong enough to bend the sky in half. I've seen the Monk allow himself to be tossed from a horse's saddle just to convince you to ride instead of walk in your condition." Wukong, happy tears: "Master's cassock is still stained from that day..." Macaque, happy laughter: "And I still have the bite wound from when I first approached you. From the monk!" (*Wukong & Macaque press their foreheads together with affection*) Macaque: "This is going to sound... absolutely insane, but from what I've seen and heard in the few weeks... I'd like to stay along for the ride. If you'd have me." Wukong, trying to hide his joy: "You mean it?! You'll come with us all the way to India!?" Macaque: "Yup. Beyond that too." (*gently places hand on Wukong's mid-section*) "I wanna be there to see the Egg come into this world. And be there to see how much havoc they cause our kingdom." (*Romantic monkey noises ensue!*) Tripitaka: "Um... I'd hate to intrude-" Zhu Bajie: "No you don't." Tripitaka: "True. But we are currently in the middle of being attacked by three of your former sworn brothers." The Brotherhood: (*already mid-battle with Ao Lie and Sha Wujing*) Macaque & Wukong: "Oh yeah..." "Forgot they were still here..." Macaque: "Be back in a moment peaches." Macaque: (*Rushes at Azure and turns into his Kaiju form*) Wukong: (*purring and heart-eyes*) (*♥ω♥)

The ensuing fight is pretty brutal, all things considered. Even though Wukong does swing his staff around, the others don't want to risk his health in his condition. Tripitaka and Ao Lie in particular keep trying to route Wukong away from the battle entirely.

Macaque and the dragon end up forming a tag team to take down Azure, whilst Bajie and Wujing deal with Peng and Yellow Tusk respectively.

Azure suddenly changes course, aiming his sword for Wukong's middle.

Macaque jumps ahead of the swing.

Wukong screams as blood sprays both him and Azure.

Macaque crumbles to the ground, his face a red mess. A massive gash stretching across his face and cutting through his right socket.

Wukong feels his heart stop.

And within seconds; Yama and the Ten Kings greet the three rogue celestial animals in their court. The bodhisattvas and the Buddha's most trustworthy arrive shortly thereafter, looking supremely disgusted with their steeds' actions.

-

Macaque is out cold for days afterwards. The Pilgrims find the nearest inn brave enough to operate in demon territory. The monkey is silent and unmoving, but his heart still beats. Wukong refuses to leave his bedside for even a moment.

The Pilgrims finally understand how much both monkeys mean to one another.

Bajie does his best to comfort his little-big brother, feeling the sympathy of a hundred heartbreaks. He takes over cooking duties without being asked for the first time in forever. He starts making soups.

Ao Lie sneaks into the room in his smaller dragon form, curling against Macaque's body and whispering for him to please wake up and not leave brother Wukong to raise his pup without his mate.

Tripitaka is furious. Not at his disciple or even his disciple's antagonistic mate. But at the Brotherhood, at the Taoist Gods, himself - every level of anger he's every felt in one lifetime. Wukong even hears his Master attempt to take his rage out on his holy vestments (he had thought to strike a tree or rock but decided against it). The cassock and hat are noticeably crumpled the next time Wukong sees him.

Sha Wujing is the one to suggest that they all come together and meditate and pray in this dark moment. His qi exhausted from (without his brothers' knowledge) astrally contacting any and all people who may wish to see the Macaque one last time. He felt it was the least he could do.

Guanyin appears, called forth by each Pilgrim praying for the shadow monkey's survival. A certain king's prayer the loudest of them all. All the goddess can provide is a drop of her healing waters to awaken Macaque from his coma.

Macaque right eye is permanently blinded. Azure's divine attack destroyed it entirely. A blow meant for Wukong - no, meant for the Egg. Without even caring for his injury, Macaque immediately springs forward, worried about his King.

Wukong cries so hard with relief that he gets hiccups. Him and Macaque do not part from their embrace for hours.

The Stone Egg begins kicking for the first time.

[numbersandstars]

China: Countries and Sound Series

Disclaimer: the point of view I will give is merely the astrological point of view, not my personal perspective, likes and dislikes. Astrology is light and is above petty, ambitious, business-minded and biased agendas of some media. Also, I will not analyze the countries’ birth charts in this series as it would be too long. I might refer to them a little bit sometimes only.

🤔What is it all about? How do we analyze the sounds in Jyotish? Why? See intro here. In Mandarin Chinese, China is called: 中国/ zhongguo. "Zhong" sound is the closest to "cho" sound, found in Ashvini pada 3.

Ashvini: the Unstoppable Horses

🐎Horses: Ashvini's animal is the horse. Horses played a significant role in Chinese history. The Han conquered all the other warring states with horses while their enemy from the North also used the horse to submit them. The great wall they tried to build never stopped these Northern tribes to defeat them. The horse was also essential to keep in touch with other far away places in the West. Today, the car has replaced the horse: recently China has built flying cars, such as the pilotless flying taxis. Innovation in this field will make them successful.

🐎Martial arts: China is famous for its martial arts, especially kung fu. Ashvini is related to martial arts and warfare. 🐎Movement, migrations: In mainland China, many people migrated from North to South and East to West. They even went across the sea to establish themselves. Ashvini is a nakshatra that is always on the move. 🐎Medicine: Ashvini is all about medicine. China is known for its traditional medicine which still proves to be highly efficient today. This medicine is very complex and uses herbs. It also involves energetic therapies such as acupuncture, qi gong, tai qi. This type of medicine is very Ashvini-like.

🐎Levitation: In Chinese movies, we can often see characters flying. Ashvini is fascinated by levitation. 🐎Long hair: Horses have beautiful manes. Ashvini natives like to take care of their hair. In many Chinese TV shows, long hair is often seen.

🐎Sacred mountains: Taoist believers still make pilgrimages to sacred mountains throughout the country. They climb up mountains where temples are built. Ashvini likes to climb up on top of mountains, hills etc. 🐎Innovation: China has been the source of many inventions, such as printing, the compass, the gunpowder... When China stopped innovating, it fell down. In 1793, the emperor Qianlong arrogantly ignored steel and steam- yet offered by the British- which would make the British number one. The Chinese paid for this dreadful mistake: the country slowly sank into anarchy and wars later on. Innovation, an Ashvini quality, is key to success in general but most importantly for Ashvini. Now, the Chinese are known for their innovative technology surpassing Europe greatly.

🐎Humiliation: The Ashvin kumars, the Ashvini's rulers, had always been badly treated by the other demigods. They were always refused to drink the soma despite their godly lineage and deeds by them and Indra. But they found a cunning way to make the demigods change their minds. They had no choice but letting them drink soma, which deeply irritated Indra, the king of the demigods and the ruler of Jyeshtha. China faced heavy humiliation especially in the 19th century and was torn into pieces by foreign forces. And guess what? Their archenemy was the United Kingdom, whose letter "u" is related to Jyeshtha... Indra. And now, their major enemy is the U.S.A, which sound is the same... China found a cunning way to be in the top position: the U.K, the U.S and other countries gave most of their means of production to them, being lured to relocate their factories there due to their greed... And now the Chinese are in the top position.

🐎Selfishness, brutality: the Ashvini individual's dark side is self centeredness and lack of consideration for others. China revealed these traits in the past. For example, the way the Han subdued the other states had been harsh: unity meant destruction of cultural differences. Or in their philosophy, China was the center of the world: the emperor Qianlong showed it clearly, his sense of superiority clouding his vision regarding the western nations. As they thought they were the core of the world, they naturally spread their philosophies and culture to their neighbors. You were considered refined (aka superior) when you were able to recite Chinese poetry during the Japanese Heian period, for example.

🐎Red: Blood red is Ashvini's color. Red is a significant color in Chinese culture. 🐎Characters, writings, Hanzi: Writing, Chinese characters, play a major role in Chinese culture. It is considered as art, used for prayers, and communication throughout the country. It even spread outside of China. "Cho" corresponds to pada 3, which falls in Gemini, which is all about communication and writings. 🐎Trade: Chinese people are known for their merchant skills. Gemini is all about negotiations, money and trade. Next, we will see Russia. 🇷🇺 Previously, we saw the USA. 🇺🇸

[uma1ra]

SUBHAN'ALLAH, THIS TEXT CONTAINS VERY INFORMATIVE KNOWLEDGE FOR ALL!! READ & SPREAD IT AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE, IT WILL BE SADQA-E-JARIAH FOR YOU AND ME.

1-Akhi - Brother

2-Ukhti - Sister

3-JazakAllah khair - May Allah give you Ajar/Sawab for your deed.

4-Ma'Shaa'Allah - As God has willed.

5-HayakAllah - May Allah give you life.

6-BarakAllahu Feek - May Allah put baraka in what you are doing.

7-Wa feeka barakallahu - and May Allah bless you. (in response to Barakallahu Feek)

8-Wa iyyakum - And to you

9-Alhamdulillah - Praise be to Allah

10-Allah - God

11-Allahu Akbar - Allah is Most Great

12-Amanah - Trust

13-Assalamu Alaikum - Peace be upon you--the "official" Islamic greeting.

14-Assalamu Alaikum wa Rahmatullahi wa Barakatuh - "Peace and the Mercy and Blessings of God be upon you" Extended form of the above.

16-Astaghfir Allah - I seek forgiveness from Allah (used when mentioning something that goes against the standards of Islam)

17-Ayah/Ayat - Qur'anic verse

18-Bid`ah - Innovation, addition to the religion's essentials

19-Bukhari - One of the most noted compilers of hadith. His collection is 20-known as Sahih Bukhari

21-Bismillah ar-Rahman ar-Rahim - In the Name of Allah, the Most Gracious, Most Merciful

23-Da'wa - Invitation (for humankind to Islam)

24-Du`aa - Supplication

25-Eid - Islamic holiday

26-Fatwa - Islamic legal ruling

27-Fiqh - Islamic law as interpreted by scholars

28-Fitnah - Corruption and disorder, also temptation

29-Hadith - A report of a saying or deed of the Prophet

30-Haj - Pilgrimage

31-Halal - Allowed (per Islamic law)

32-Haram - Forbidden (per Islamic law)

33-Hazrat/Hadrat - Honorable

34-Hijab - Modest way of behavior and dress (including head scarf for women)

35-Imam - Leader

36-Iman - Faith

37-In Shaa Allah - If God wills. (Used when talking about a future event)

38-Injeel - The scripture sent down to Prophet Issa (Jesus)

39-Isnad - Chain of transmitters, the list of people who successively narrated a given hadith

40-Jannah - Paradise

41-JazakAllah Khair - May God grant you what is good. (Often used instead of "Thank you")

42-Jihad - Striving for Islam, whether by peaceful or violent means

43-Jinn - Unseen beings, who, like humans, are given the power to choose between right and wrong

44-Kafir - One who denies the truth. Literally, one who "covers" the truth (sometimes applied to non-Muslims).

45-Khalifah - Caliph: Leader of Muslim nation

46-Khilafah - Caliphate

47-Khutba - Sermon

48-Kufr - Denial of the Truth, rebellion against God

49-La Ilaha Illa Allah - There is no deity but God

50-Ma Shaa Allah - What God has willed! (Usually used to express wonder at Allah's creation)

51-Madhhab - School of jurisprudential thought

52-Makruh - Detested, but not forbidden (per Islamic law)

53-Mandoub - Recommended, but not required (per Islamic law)

54-Mubah - Neither forbidden nor commended. Neutral (per Islamic law)

55-Mushrik - One who commits Shirk

56-Muslim - One who submits to Allah and is a follower of Islam; also, name of one of the most notable hadith scholars. His collection is known as Sahih Muslim

57-Nabi - Prophet

58-Qur'an - The Words of Allah conveyed to us by the Prophet

PBUH - Peace Be Upon Him. Same as SAW

59-RAA - (Radia Allahu Anhu/Anha.) May Allah be please with him/her

60-Ra-sool - Messenger (Prophet to whom a scripture is revealed)

61-Rasool Allah - Messenger of God (used to refer to Prophet Muhammad)

62-Sahaba - Companions of Prophet. Singular is "Sahabi"

63-Sahih - "Sound in isnad." A technical attribute applied to the "isnad" of a hadith

64-Salaam - Peace. An abbreviated version of the Islamic greeting

65-Salaat - Prayer

66-SAW - (Salla Allahu Alaihi Wa Sallam.) Peace Be Upon Him

67-Sawm/Siyam - Fasting

68-Seerah/Sirah - History of the Prophet's life

69-Shahadah - Bearing witness that there is no god but Allah and that Muhammad is His Messenger.

70-Shari'ah - Divine Law

71-Sheikh - Scholar (or any elder and/or respected man)

72-Shirk - Associating partners (e.g. helpers, other gods) with Allah

73-Shura - Consultation among Muslims

74-Subhan Allah - "Glory be to God"

75-Sunna/Sunnah - Tradition of the Prophet

76-Surah/Sura - A Chapter in the Qur'an

78-Tafsir - Interpretation

79-Tawraat - The scripture sent down to Prophet Musa (Moses).

80-Ulama - Religious scholars

81-Umma - Nation, community.

82-Ustadh - Teacher

83-Wassalaam - And peace. It means "goodbye"

84-Zakat - Required charity

[theprophetsaid]

Do you have any particular moments where Brian's said or done something that made you go "how the hell were we supposed to interpret this" aka Brian saying something about/to Fred that can't possibly be meant in a platonic way from a straight man 😅

Cos imo most of the things I've heard Brian say and do for Fred sound straight from a romance novel.. My boyfriend's a major Queen fan and he talks about them all the time and I just wanted to know your thoughts so I can maybe relate with my bf more :')

Oh, anon, where do I start? I'm glad you asked. Finally, I can actually use my knowledge for something. I'm gonna give you these in bullets because that's just easier.

Brian admitted that he'd say, "I love you," to Freddie if he could speak to him one more time.

(about Rock Montreal footage) "You just love seeing how his muscles move. You wanna see every breath he takes."

"Orion has to be the strongest, most striking, most beautiful constellation in the sky. It would suit Freddie perfectly."

Writing Save Me because Freddie's heartbreak and unsatisfying sex life bothered him personally. Like??? Most insane action in Rock history. I'll never be over it.

The way he hates Don't Stop Me Now and Body Language essentially because, for him, those songs represent Freddie separating from Queen him and going toward 'dangerous' influences (toxic friends and drugs). Brian has implied he still feels guilt over that to this day.

He kept a Funko Pop of Freddie on his nightstand at one point.

He went on a 'pilgrimage' to Zanzibar to reconnect with Freddie's younger self.

"You could throw me in the audience."

He once told a blowjob joke about Freddie in front of an audience at his book launch ????

I thought I'd end this on a light note lmao. There are way more things I could add, but this post would be a mile long. Now, could these things be seen as platonic? That's subjective. Personally, I think they're all insane, and it's why I'm still here rambling about their dynamic after 4 years.

[goldroses123]

Astrology

astrology

On this subject Isaac Myer states: "We think that the Zodiacal constellations were first ten and represented an immense androgenic man or deity; subsequently this was changed, resulting in Scorpio and Virgo and making eleven; after this from Scorpio, Libra, the Balance, was taken, making the present twelve." (The Qabbalah.)

The autumnal equinox apparently occurs in the constellation of Libra (the Balances). The scales tipped and the solar globe began its pilgrimage toward the house of winter. The constellation of the Scales was placed in the zodiac to symbolize the power of choice, by means of which man may weigh one problem against another. The autumnal equinox apparently occurs in the constellation of Libra (the Balances).

The scales tipped and the solar globe began its pilgrimage toward the house of winter. The constellation of the Scales was placed in the zodiac to symbolize the power of choice, by means of which man may weigh one problem against another. Millions of years ago, when the human race was in the making, man was like the angels, who knew neither good nor evil.

He fell into the state of the knowledge of good and evil when the gods gave him the seed for mental nature.

From man's mental reactions to his environments, he distills the product of experience, which then aids him to regain his lost position plus an individualized intelligence.

Paracelsus said: "The body comes from the elements, the soul from the stars, and the spirit from God. All that the intellect can conceive of comes from the stars [the spirits of the stars, rather than the material constellations].", as may be learnt from that book of Æsculapius which is called Μυριογενεσις, (i.e. Ten Thousand, or an innumerable multitude of Genitures)

in order that nothing in the several genitures of men may be found to be discordant with the above-mentioned geniture of the world." The seven ages of man are under the control of the planets in the following order: infancy, the moon; childhood, Mercury; adolescence, Venus; maturity, the sun; middle age, Mars; advanced age, Jupiter; and decrepitude and dissolution, Saturn.

THE LIBRA BODY PART. Ever the sign of the Scales, this sign rules the kidneys that balance the body and the lower back. The Libra body part is the lumbar region, the buttocks and the endocrine system. The Scorpio zodiac sign rules the genital organs, bladder and associated arteries.

i. Indra is the Sanskrit word “indriyas”, or senses. so, there is the ability to master control over one’s senses. Controlling one’s senses is essential to achieve higher states of spiritual evolution.

Indra achieved his power through self-sacrifice and deep meditation. Agni is the God of the fire, and burning desire is the theme of transformation.

The three quarters of Vishakha within Libra provide affluence, comfort, and the pleasant experiences of life, which all come under the domain of Indra, the king of the gods and ruler of heaven. The last quarter of the asterism, falling in Scorpio, is full of the trials and tribulations which are essential for every kind of transformation. Jupiter is the ruling planet which gives enthusiasm, faith, optimism and hope for the future and reflecting the deep connection with one’s soul purpose. It gives the power to achieve many and various fruits in life. Vishaka is reflected through plowing or cultivation and finally obtaining the fruits of harvest. They often will make good farmers and gardeners. Vishakha natives will cultivate their ideas and creations until they have reached perfection. The deities are ones of lightning and fire, so therefore are extremely intense and often will disregard others in their pursuit of their desire. The power of Vishaka to give patience and determination to accomplish work is very strong for creating the foundation of success.

Vishaka Nakshatra: Range 20°00’ Libra - 03°20’ Scorpio. Ruling Planet: Jupiter. Deity: God of fire. Symbol: Archway, potter’s wheel. Gana (Nature): Rakshasa (demon). Animal Symbol: Male tiger. Sounds: Thee, Thoo, They, Tho. Primary motivation: Dharma, Right activity.

Long before the introduction of idolatry into religion, the early priests caused the statue of a man to be placed in the sanctuary of the temple. This human figure symbolized the Divine Power in all its intricate manifestations. Thus, the priests of antiquity accepted man as their textbook, and through the study of him learned to understand the greater and more abstruse mysteries of the celestial scheme of which they were a part. It is not improbable that this mysterious figure standing over the primitive altars was made in the nature of a manikin and, like certain emblematic hands in the Mystery schools, was covered with either carved or painted hieroglyphs.

The statue may have opened, thus showing the relative positions of the organs, bones, muscles, nerves, and other parts. After ages of research, the manikin became a mass of intricate hieroglyphs and symbolic figures. Every part had its secret meaning. The measurements formed a basic standard by means of which it was possible to measure all parts of cosmos. It was a glorious composite emblem of all the knowledge possessed by the sages and hierophants.

Then came the age of idolatry. The Mysteries decayed from within. The secrets were lost, and none knew the identity of the mysterious man who stood over the altar. It was remembered only that the figure was a sacred and glorious symbol of the Universal Power, and it: finally came to be looked upon as a god--the One in whose image man was made. Having lost the knowledge of the purpose for which the manikin was originally constructed, the priests worshiped this effigy until at least their lack of spiritual understanding brought the temple down in ruins about their heads and the statue crumbled with the civilization that had forgotten its meaning.

"Kidney beans" also "woman" "magical gesture' Shakit … murda 'Kidney beans" a female-genital symbol associated with transmigration of souls … vish

Penta * nov 12,1995 maybe 1992 said he was 27 Sun D Virgo 11-04-54 Hasta 1 Neutral Moon D Virgo 28-32-26 Chitra 2 maybe Vishaka using the Chicago as birthplace moon in Gemini Pun varus and year could be wrong cause I used xqc birth year :/ (LOL) xqc plus Charles Manson loll Anne Hathway Félix Lengyel (born November 12, 1995), xqc sun libra Visha …moon gem Pun varus :PLaval, Quebec, Canada* ban for sexual content ACEU Indiana 7th April 251993 he could be Vishaka sun Pisces Revati moon libra Swati

INTERESTING FACTS

He dreams of starting up his own fashion brand someday. Thanks to his stepfather’s involvement with video games, both he and his mother were always supportive of his gaming pursuits, just as long as he was safe and earning enough money to support himself.

He has a long-term girlfriend listening to music inspiring people to get into new artist getting new 27 tattoos going to Japan likes goth girls …post a bunch of motivation quotes lol

TheDiamondMinecart- Nov 08, 1991 (age 28) · Aldershot, United Kingdom sun libra visha moon Scorpio Anurada -spouse April 9, 1992-Wellingborough, United Kingdom- Jemma Middleton sun Pisces Revati, moon Gemini Arda Stamp longnose-Dec 13, 1990 (age 29) · Portsmouth, England* sun Pisces Revati moon Scorpio Vishaka

[whencyclopedia]

Martyr

A Martyr is someone who voluntarily dies for either a religious or secular cause. The word originates from "witness" in Greek and is related to a witness in court testifying to one's beliefs or truth, despite the risk involved. As such, it is considered one of the greatest sacrifices that a person can make.

The title and status of martyrdom are assigned by society, where the person/event is memorialized in stories and monuments. Martyrdom is most often juxtaposed to a dominant social or religious worldview or an oppressive government. In the Western tradition, the concept of martyrs and martyrdom is drawn from Greco-Roman stories of a noble death (hero cults), the Jewish Maccabean Revolt of 167 BCE, and the persecution of Christians by Rome.

Greco-Roman Concepts of Noble Death

The act of voluntary death, suicide, was never condemned in antiquity, but the reason for the death was debated as one that was honorable and necessary. Social memory was an essential concept of the afterlife; without memory, there was no existence. In the philosophical schools, the template for noble death was the story of Socrates (469-399 BCE), as related by his pupil, Plato. Socrates had been put on trial in Athens for corrupting the youth and condemned for execution. Despite plans by his friends, Socrates refused to flee Athens and accepted his fate. His drinking of the hemlock demonstrated that he was in control of his own fate, not the Athenian Greek government.

Ancient Greece had created the concept of hero cults, with apotheosis, or the deifying of individuals after their death. Their accomplishment of great deeds in life was rewarded with being among the gods after death in the Elysian Fields. The god Herakles/Hercules was a model. People made pilgrimages to the sites of the heroes' alleged tombs and were able to petition them for benefits. Rome was slow to borrow this idea, but it became a popular way to honor great generals such as Scipio Africanus, who defeated Hannibal in the Second Punic War (218-201 BCE).

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