The wind whispered through Mondstadt, carrying with it the faint scent of dandelions and the distant hum of a lyre. In the heart of the city, on the stone steps beneath the grand statue of Barbatos, a familiar figure sat—Venti, the carefree bard with an eternal smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief and a touch of mystery.

Tonight, the stars shimmered brightly above, painting the sky with a thousand glowing notes. Venti’s fingers traced over the strings of his lyre, but he had yet to play. The city was quieter than usual, a rare peaceful night, as if waiting for something only he knew was coming.

He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, listening—not to the world outside but to the music within him. A melody was brewing, one that hadn’t been sung in centuries, a song older than Mondstadt itself. It was a tune of freedom, of ancient winds that once roared across the land long before walls were built or names were given.

Venti’s smile grew soft, almost melancholic, as he began to hum the first few notes. It was a song he hadn’t played since his time as Barbatos, a hymn to the winds that shaped the world. He could feel the wind stir in response, eagerly swirling around him, eager for the music to begin.

“Ah, this one,” Venti whispered to himself, his voice barely audible over the breeze. “This song... it belongs to the sky, to the stars.”

His fingers danced over the lyre, and the melody filled the air, sweet and haunting. It was a song that carried with it the weight of eons, of battles fought and won, of freedoms lost and reclaimed. The people of Mondstadt couldn’t hear it yet, but soon, they would. It would sweep through the city like the wind itself, leaving no soul untouched.

As Venti played, he glanced at the statue of Barbatos, his other self. His grin returned, playful but knowing.

“The wind never forgets a tune," he said softly, "And tonight... it’s time the world remembers this one.”

The song hung in the air like a promise, echoing across the streets and up into the night sky.