"Oh! So this 'Stanley'… he stole his companion's name?" Paimon finally realized.
Venti gave a slight nod.
"Stanley… I've been afraid for so many years. Afraid that the people of Mondstadt would forget you. That's why I kept telling your stories everywhere… I—I wanted Mondstadt to remember! Stanley reached the center of the Sea of Ashes! He was the greatest adventurer—he's still alive!! Stanley won't die, because I… I am Stanley…"
As he spoke, "Stanley" grew more and more agitated. But midway through, his voice suddenly faltered, sinking into exhaustion.
"I'm sorry, Stanley… Even I've grown old. I've grown old too…"
Venti and Lora remained silent, neither of them speaking, lost in their own thoughts.
"Stanley" finally noticed the group listening behind him. Taking that as their cue, they stepped forward to stand before him.
"Go," he said, shaking his head. "Don't ask anything. Just leave me alone for a while…"
"But—" Paimon began.
His emotions suddenly flared. "Go! Don't make me say it twice!"
"Mr. Stanley," Lora said calmly, meeting his gaze, "you told your story beautifully. Both the Sea of Ashes—and Stanley."
"I… told it well?" He froze, clearly stunned.
Lora nodded solemnly. "Yes."
He stared into her eyes—eyes infinitely gentle, vast and all-encompassing like the ocean itself. In the end, he could only let out a sigh.
"But now… my memories of adventure… of Stanley himself… they've all grown blurred. That's my greatest secret. My deepest fear."
"All these years, I lived for his story. But his personality, his life… I can't remember them clearly anymore. Hah…"
He let out a bitter laugh.
"The only thing I can't forget is that he died in the windless Sea of Ashes—where the wind couldn't carry his soul away!"
His entire life had been submerged in guilt, even though it was never something he was meant to bear alone. Purifying the heart was not Lora's role. She stood silently to the side and said nothing more.
"In his memories," Venti said softly, watching him, "Stanley is no longer a living, breathing friend. He's been frozen into the image of a battered warrior—one that shackles his entire life."
Lora listened and let out a faint sigh. Stanley was like this… and was she truly any different?
"I'm old… I can't remember much anymore!" he shouted, his voice trembling with refusal. "But a great adventurer can't die like that—he can't!"
Lumine remained silent. Paimon remained silent.
Lora stepped back, giving space to Venti.
Venti cast her a grateful glance, then turned to "Stanley."
No… he wasn't Stanley.
He was Hans Archibald.
Hans lifted his head, staring at Venti in shock. "How do you know… my real name?"
Venti smiled gently. Azure winds rose behind him, soft and clear.
"Wind…" Hans raised his hands, feeling it brush against his skin. "This is the wind I could never hear in the Sea of Ashes…"
Venti unfolded his domain. In that moment, he once more became the god who brought hope and turning points—the God of a Thousand Winds. Gentle. Benevolent. Radiant with divinity.
"I always believed…" Hans stood up, eyes shining as he gazed at the god before him. "I always believed in your existence."
Venti extended his hand, a god reaching out to his devout believer.
"May you entrust your old friend's soul to me?"
Hans looked into his eyes. His hand trembled as he placed it into Venti's.
Stanley's form appeared upon Venti, replacing him, meeting Hans's gaze. With a peaceful smile, Stanley's soul rose amid countless winds, flying toward the high heavens.
"Thank you… all of you. And thank you, Lord Barbatos." Hans exhaled, visibly lighter. "I feel much better now. It's time for me to go back and rest properly. I'll keep telling Stanley's legendary stories—but this time, I won't sink into despair again."
"He's drunk," Lora said quietly. "Lumine, Paimon—could you take him home?"
After the others left, she turned to Venti.
"Can you still hold on? Your emotions?"
Venti looked at her and smiled. "Ah… you've seen an embarrassing side of me."
"Still able to smile," Lora replied, gently patting his shoulder. "Then you're managing, at least."
They fell into silence for a moment before she continued.
"Hans Archibald is no longer bound by his fallen friend. So… what about you?"
"Thousands of years ago, you ascended the divine seat in this form and granted Mondstadt freedom. Yet the least free of all was you—the God of Freedom himself. Venti, you've imprisoned yourself in your own land without wind."
Venti did not answer immediately. His eyes were filled with distant memories.
"I can't remember many of the things he said to me," he murmured at last. "But the poem he gave me at the end—I've never forgotten it."
"'Fly, fly, like a bird. See this world for me. Fly to the heights of the sky.'"
"…So that's why," Lora said softly after a pause, "you've always watched the world from this form?"
"I don't think there's anything wrong with it," Venti shook his head. "Among the Seven, I'm hardly the only one bound by chains."
"The unyielding stone is trapped by its own contract. Fleeting lightning clings to an unchanging eternity. Lamenting ice seals away its own passion. Benevolent greenery gives rise to the folly of its followers. Blazing fire burns away the land's very vitality."
"And even you—are you not trapped by Fontaine's 'Original Sin,' unable to escape?"
"Everyone has their own land without wind," Venti sighed. "Even gods have their cages. My cage isn't this body—it's this world itself. Beneath this sky, I am free… yet I will never leap beyond it."
"Because I lack the courage."
Lora sat down, tilting her head to look up at the God of Wind and Freedom.
"No," she said quietly. "Your courage shines brilliantly."
"…Does it?" Venti paused, genuinely surprised.
"Care for a drink?" Lora asked. "My treat."
At those words, Venti immediately broke into a smile. He sat down across from her.
"Then I'll gladly accept your generosity."