“Sister Venti, do you need some parts to trade for wine? Clara found everything she needed today, so if you’d like…”
Clara took out her small backpack, filled with the fruits of her labor for the day. Her generosity left Venti feeling a bit guilty.
The brief awkward silence must have come across as reluctance, prompting Clara, ever so considerate, to quickly add,
“Oh, I didn’t mean to offend you, Sister Venti! When you came and played music in the settlement, everyone was so happy. So… think of it as payment, maybe?”
With resources so scarce, the people in the Lower District understood the warmth of reciprocity well. In Mechanic Settlement, a community made mostly of scavengers, exchanges like these were a common practice.
But still, Venti had no intention of accepting Clara’s offer, so he gently shook his head.
“No, no. I’d never accept payment for a good deed. I perform for everyone because I want to.”
But the petite scavenger girl was nothing if not stubborn.
When she fixed her ruby eyes on him, staring as unblinkingly as a snow rabbit, Venti could only raise his hands in surrender.
“Well, how about this, Clara? Why don’t we talk as we walk back? This isn’t exactly the best spot for a long chat.”
“…Alright. I’ll do whatever Sister Venti says.”
And so, the two of them made their way back out of Rivet Town.
On the way, Clara continued to insist on giving him a small, high-value part, but Venti compromised by picking a nearly broken mechanical bird instead.
Seeing this, Clara looked downcast, thinking she hadn’t been much help to Venti after all.
“Hey now, there’s no need to feel down. It may look a bit beat up, but with a little work, it’ll be good as new.”
“Besides, the mechanical bird has a story about the sky and freedom. It’s a fitting trade.”
Venti ruffled her hair, soft and white as freshly fallen snow, and Clara’s face softened into a smile, a little like a small animal basking in affection. She soon looked away shyly, staring at her feet and murmuring almost inaudibly,
“…Sister Venti is so thoughtful. It’s like you’re treating Clara as family…”
“Eheh~ Well, I wouldn’t mind having such a sweet little sister!”
Though Venti fancied himself a carefree spirit, blowing through life like the wind, ready to spread tales of beauty and joy wherever he went, he couldn’t help but want to look after someone so pure-hearted as Clara.
“Mm—!”
Clara, with her honest heart, took his words at face value, and her face flushed with excitement as she drew even closer to him.
She admired Sister Venti and all that she stood for.
Not only could she travel to many places and make countless friends, but the power of her music brought everyone together as a true family.
That was the power of music—the power that belonged to Sister Venti alone.
In Mechanic Settlement, it wasn’t that no one sang, but that the boisterous, rap-like songs didn’t quite resonate with an introverted girl like Clara.
Still, she tried to like what others enjoyed.
But Sister Venti, who brought comfort to their tense hearts, was someone she respected on a level akin to her respect for Mr. Svarog.
And now, having been personally acknowledged as “family” by her…
If there was ever anything Sister Venti needed, Clara would do her best to help!
“Um… Sister Venti, you had something you wanted to tell me, right?”
Bravely, she asked the question, her small chest swelling with pride and purpose.
“Yes, but this is something that may require Mr. Svarog’s approval.”
Venti stroked his chin thoughtfully.
“E-eh? Sister Venti, you’re not planning to sneak off with the settlement’s medicinal alcohol, are you?”
Clara’s question caught him off guard, her gaze filled with worry.
“Mr. Svarog wouldn’t allow that. He said drinking like that could be very harmful to the body.”
“Er… No, that’s not it, but… do I really give off that kind of impression?”
Venti thought he’d reined in his drinking habits considerably since his days as Barbatos, when he’d often stagger home drunk in Mondstadt. Quality wines were scarce here in Belobog, and the watered-down, inferior liquor couldn’t hold a candle to the fruit wines in his memories.
Compared to Barbatos’ wild days, he’d been downright restrained here; people who knew him might even exclaim, “Who are you, and what have you done with our bard?”
So he really didn’t expect Clara to think of him as some drunken bard… right?
“But last time, when you were performing in the settlement, you kept chugging that drink while singing and then you started—um, ‘flowers, birds, wind, and moon’ and all that…”
Both Venti and Clara blushed at the mention of the incident.
Now, don’t get the wrong idea—it wasn’t some raucous outdoor bender. With Belobog’s cold, a party like that would likely freeze them solid first.
Clara’s “flowers, birds, wind, and moon” comment was more reminiscent of a memorable performance by a certain water goddess named Aqua in Venti’s memories.
Though his antics couldn’t compare to her “human fountain” display, it was still quite the spectacle for the Lower District residents, who rarely had access to such entertainment.
So, if Clara thought he wanted to sneak alcohol to loosen up for his performances… well, maybe that wasn’t too surprising.
“Ahem.” Venti coughed and tried to look serious, contemplating a smooth excuse when he noticed Clara’s concerned gaze and ended up blurting, “Fine, fine. I promise I won’t do that again.”
Clara shyly lowered her head, her pale fingers nervously entwining as she murmured softly,
“…You don’t have to promise Clara anything. Mr. Svarog just said you shouldn’t drink too much, that’s all.”
After all, in Belobog’s perpetual chill, a little alcohol was invaluable for keeping travelers warm.
But seeing that Clara was still young, Venti decided to steer the conversation away from alcohol and back to the matter at hand.
“Well, what I wanted to discuss with you actually concerns everyone in the Lower District—”
As he brought this up, his demeanor shifted from relaxed to serious.
Clara noticed the change and instinctively straightened up, her face tense.
“You’re aware of the increasing Fragmentum spread in the Lower District, right?”
“…Mr. Svarog has told Clara about it.”
“Then, what is Mr. Svarog planning to do?”
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