"Should we contact Her Highness, the Princess?" the Abyss Mage asked cautiously, glancing into the empty air as if an answer might echo back.
As a practiced flatterer, he had noticed the change in Sora. The way the Abyss Prince referred to his sibling had shifted from the clinical "your blood relative" to something softer — "Her Highness, the Princess." In a court of monsters, subtlety like that could buy you a step up the ladder.
"Her Highness the Princess, hmm?" Sora replied with a small, pleased smile. The title had a ring to it. He had always meant to treat Lumine as dear kin; adopting an honorific made the sentiment sound more formal, more powerful.
"As for Lumine," Sora continued, "do not worry too much. Her powers have not fully returned, true, but she is no ordinary target. She has survived fights with gods and monsters alike. So long as she avoids needlessly provoking the Archons, wandering into chaotic domains, or exhausting herself to collapse, she will not be easily harmed."
He kept the caveats in place not because he feared her, but because the Abyss's designs required time and careful coercion.
"Witnessing Mondstadt's fall and Barbatos' ruin will teach her the cruelty of this world," Sora said firmly. "Then, she will come to us of her own accord, hungry for answers — and power."
One niggling doubt remained in his mind: what if the trauma pushed her away from them, toward vengeance against the Abyss? Sora hated that possibility. He loved his sister precisely because she remained her stubborn, reckless self; he swore he would not let anyone break her resolve against him. He would walk the line, tempt her softly — never outright destroy her.
Late that night, Venti burst into Kael's room like a spring breeze collapsing into the hearth. "Kael! Great news!"
"Huh?" Kael blinked, half-asleep. "Why so loud? Weren't you worried someone might overhear?"
"I prefer face-to-face!" Venti grinned, hair a tousle of green. "Jean and Diluc spent their saved points clearing Dadaupa Gorge today. Then I called in a Thousand Winds surge to sweep the leftovers. My point total just jumped past one million!"
Kael smiled wryly at the bard's glee. "I heard. But you should know—Morax has been spending a lot of his points purifying Abyssal corruption in the Chasm. His gains have outpaced yours. He's already recovered a significant portion of his lost vigor."
"One-tenth?" Venti's eyes went wide. The Anemo Archon's hands went to his lyre as if measuring the implied scale.
Venti had been gorging on points for quick growth, but the image of Morax — patient, methodical, grinding away to cleanse the Chasm — humbled him. The Geo Archon's restoration was no small matter. If Zhongli had reclaimed even a sliver of his former contract-forged strength, the landscape of power in Teyvat might shift.
"Ugh, so frustrating!" Venti moaned theatrically. "I need more monsters to purge. I want that abyssal energy flowing into me!"
"Don't overdo it," Kael warned. "You're not Morax. You don't have the patience to sit and refine corruption into something useful. Use your speed and control, not brute accumulation."
Venti laughed. "Wind can cleanse, too—just not by sitting still. I'll keep sweeping the fringes near Mondstadt. If Dvalin breaks free again, monsters will take advantage. We can't let that happen."
Kael nodded. The plan was simple: make the Abyss think Barbatos was faltering while in truth they bided time, training Mondstadt's defenders and purifying leyline pockets bit by bit. Let the Abyss overcommit, then crush it.
"Just remember to act weak," Kael added. "Feigned weakness invites enemy overreach."
"Acting weak? That's my specialty," Venti said with a theatrical bow. "Been doing it for ages!"
"Also," Venti asked after a beat, more sober now, "when will Eula join the chat group?"
"Not yet," Kael replied. "Not until this finishes. People change once they're in the group; their hearts shift. I don't want her decisions colored before she's ready."
Venti nodded. "Fair. And Barbara?"
"She's not fit for combat. Her strength is in healing and in calming people — music heals sore spirits, too. The chat group's mechanics won't help her much right now. We have limited slots. We can't dilute the power."
Kael let a soft smile cross his face at the memory of Barbara's thin, honest voice humming the song he'd suggested earlier. Time spent with her felt like an anchor, a reminder of why they fought: for the small comforts people took for granted.
He banished the uncomfortable thought that followed — Barbara calling him anything like "Daddy." He was not that foolish.
Venti grew serious then. "Inazuma will need help eventually. The ley lines there are a mess. Baal — the Raiden Shogun — can't hold everything alone."
Kael's lips tightened. "Even the Sacred Sakura has its limits. Orobas' resentment, the War of the Shogun — Inazuma's wounds run deep. But I plan to go Sumeru after this. Nahida's plight and the Dendro Gnosis matter. I can offer cleansing, and perhaps negotiate."
"Just be careful," Venti muttered. "To Baal, you're probably an eternal exception. She doesn't tolerate surprises."
Kael allowed himself a small, wry chuckle. "If she tries to cut me down on sight, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. I'm getting stronger every day. With allies like Zhongli and Xiao handling purges on other fronts, things will tilt in our favor."
He listed them off quietly: Zhongli in the Chasm, purifying Abyss scars; Xiao continuing his penance, turning the hatred of the plains into something less lethal; Madam Ping offering what quiet guidance she could. The web of help already stretched across the nations. It was only missing a few key hands.
"Honestly, those folks are incredible," Kael said, genuinely impressed. "If only Mondstadt had more fighters of their caliber."
Venti hesitated, then asked softly, "Do you want my insights into the wind element? I can teach you subtleties — currents, vortices, the way wind listens to the soul."
"If you offer, I accept," Kael replied. "But knowledge comes with price. I promised Morax I wouldn't harm the Cryo Archon to gain his favor."
Venti's face went thoughtful. "You made such a promise? For Morax's power?"
Kael nodded. "I gave assurances. Some things I cannot break without cost. Morax's restoration was worth the exchange."
Venti's expression softened with genuine sympathy for the Cryo Archon then. "I may have once thought of using Ei as a bargaining chip," he admitted, "but no more. If you protected her name for Morax's sake, then that's on you."
Kael's jaw tightened just a fraction, but he let the comment pass. The Fatui and their machinations, the old bargains between Archons — those were stories he still had to untangle carefully.
"Let the Fatui squabble," Kael said finally. "The fewer of them are useful, the better."
Venti laughed and left in a flurry, humming a song about winds that smelled faintly of rain.
Kael lingered, looking toward the window where the stars washed the city in silver. The war with the Abyss was a storm that would test every bond they had forged. The plan hinged on timed sacrifices, on keeping certain truths hidden long enough to prepare.
One misstep and the entire game would collapse.
But Kael felt the quiet certainty that came with tools, allies, and a plan. The next moves were set. They would draw the Abyss in, appear weak, and then strike when the enemy had overreached. In the meantime, they would grow — carefully, deliberately.
He rose, strode to the balcony, and let the night wind braid his hair. A moment of calm before another coming storm.
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