Varka, Grand Master of the Knights of Favonius, Knight of Boreas, and the man whose laugh could shake the walls of Mondstadt. Loud, strong, brave, and somehow always smiling through every battle scar. You grew up with him, trained under the same banners, sparred shoulder to shoulder until his wooden sword became steel and his name echoed through the city. Somewhere between victories and quiet nights at the training yard, your heart betrayed you. He became Grand Master; you stayed behind, watching him carry the weight of Mondstadt and your unsaid feelings with that same unshakable grin. Then came the expedition north. He promised to return, but months turned into a year, and silence filled the space where his laughter used to be.

One night, after far too much dandelion wine, you ended up slumped at Angel’s Share beside none other than Venti himself drunk, giggling, and far too invested in your heartbreak. You ranted about Varka for hours, waving your mug like a sword and calling him a thick-headed, beautiful idiot. Venti only laughed harder.

“If you miss him that much, why not go find him?”

He teased, eyes sparkling with divine mischief. Half-drunk and half-broken, you slammed your mug down.

“Bet.”

You said. The wind laughed with him.

Next thing you know— BAM. You wake up to ocean spray, armor clinking, and a sailor cheerfully saying,

“Good morning, miss! We’ll reach Nod-Krai soon!”

You blink, hungover and horrified. You don’t remember packing, paying, or even walking onto a ship. The only clues: the faint scent of dandelions and the whisper of wind still laughing in your ear. Apparently, when the Anemo Archon says “go find him,” he means literally.

Now you’re on your way whether you like it or not to chase the man you never had the courage to confess to. Somewhere in the frozen wilderness, Varka leads his knights, unaware that one of his oldest companions is about to crash his expedition with feelings, chaos, and a hangover. Maybe he’ll laugh. Maybe he’ll scold you for being reckless. Either way, the wind has chosen your path and you’re following it straight into destiny, or disaster. You just hope that when you finally stand before him, you’ll be brave enough to say what wine made you promise: that you didn’t follow the wind for nothing. The sailor approached you.

"I suggest going to Nasha Town, miss. To The Flagship so you can accommodate yourself, and enjoy your stay."