Young Venti felt a pain in his chest unlike anything he had ever known.
He looked down in a daze and saw the bloody, gaping wound, the crimson blood gushing out.
He could feel his strength fading, his legs giving way beneath him.
With a thud, he fell heavily to the ground, his face a mask of confusion, breaking the silence of the battlefield.
Seeing this, Barbatos, ignoring its own wounded body, rushed to Venti's side, throwing itself into the boy's arms, crying out his name.
"Venti—"
"Look, we won—"
"Get up—"
But the first thing Barbatos saw in the boy's arms was that dark, gaping wound, as if it would swallow him whole.
Though Barbatos was a god, it knew at once what that wound meant.
It could only lie against the boy's chest, weeping, trying to stop the flowing blood.
But how could a wisp of wind, without a physical body, shed tears? How could it stop the blood?
Barbatos could only hold the fallen boy in its breeze, feeling the life slipping from him.
Now, Venti was dying. He knew he would not live much longer.
He looked up at the sky, saw the dust swirling above, and knew his dearest friend was beside him.
Between labored breaths, he spoke.
"I wanted to see the endless blue sky…"
"I wanted to go to the outside world and touch the feathers of birds…"
"Barbatos, I'm sorry. I think… I'm dying."
"I won't be able to play my harp for you anymore, sing for you anymore…"
"I can't… go with you to see those things…"
As he spoke, feeling the breeze beside him, tears filled his eyes.
He knew Barbatos was there.
He tried to open his mouth to say more, but blood choked his throat. No sound came out.
With longing for the sky, with apologies to Barbatos, with unwillingness to die, Venti closed his eyes and left this world.
Then, the wind spirit Barbatos, still holding the boy in its embrace, could no longer contain its grief.
It wept bitterly.
"No—"
"I never got to show you my physical form, to surprise you—"
"I never got to take you to see the birds flying free—"
"I never got to take you to see the trees with their lush branches—"
"We never got to spread our songs of freedom to the world beyond—"
"You said you would play your harp for me, sing for me, for a thousand years, for ten thousand years—"
"Our promise is unfulfilled—"
Barbatos, still a wisp of wind, held Venti tightly, sobbing with all its might.
It wanted to save Venti.
With all its strength, it poured its power into Venti's body.
But no matter how hard it tried, the Anemo power that entered him dissipated like air from a torn balloon.
Barbatos was filled with regret.
If it had tried harder, absorbed more Anemo power, perhaps it could have formed its physical body sooner and could have taken that arrow for Venti.
Then, Barbatos did not notice.
As it wept, the Anemo power in the surrounding space seethed, as if boiling.
Wisp after wisp of gentle breeze, as if summoned, gathered from all directions toward Barbatos.
Around Barbatos and the boy, countless elemental powers, countless breezes, converged into a massive, raging vortex, encircling them.
And the raging Anemo power began to flow into Barbatos, strengthening it little by little.
Then, amid the howling wind, Barbatos, the wisp of wind, absorbed more and more power, its body growing stronger and stronger.
At last, it was ready to form its physical form.
In the wind, a vague human shape emerged—a faint outline of arms, a head—beside Venti's body.
Its features were unclear.
In that moment, Barbatos finally gained a body. It could shed tears, could reach out and touch Venti's face.
But its hand met only cold flesh, the cold corpse of Venti.
Barbatos held Venti tightly in its newly formed, indistinct arms, burying its face against him, weeping.
It murmured, telling Venti's body of the days they had met beneath the walls, the days they had played together.
Those were the happiest days of Barbatos's existence.
Barbatos had tried to learn the harp from the boy, to learn to sing.
But the music it played was always chaotic. The songs it sang were always out of tune.
Remembering those sweet days, Barbatos picked up the fallen harp and gently plucked its strings.
Though the sound was rough, anyone could hear the depth of feeling in it.
Barbatos played on, singing a few lines of song, badly out of tune, for Venti.
No one knew how much time passed.
Above, countless Anemo powers gathered into Barbatos, making it stronger and stronger.
Though newly formed, the power within Barbatos now rivaled that of the Lord of the Tower in his prime.
Barbatos noticed this.
In the wind, it stopped playing and murmured, "Venti—"
"I've decided. I will become a god."
"I will carry songs of freedom across this land. I will let the free wind bring warmth to this land."
"I will bring freedom to your side."
"This is our new promise."
With that, Barbatos picked up the boy's green cap and placed it on its own indistinct head, wrapped the green cape around itself.
It held Venti's harp in its hands, lifted the boy's blood-soaked body, and slowly rose.
Under the stunned, sorrowful gazes of all, Barbatos carried Venti's body and walked with the wind to a distant hill covered in blooming flowers.
It buried Venti on that flower-covered earth, beneath a great tree with lush branches.
"Venti—"
"Wait for me to return. I will play the harp for you. I will sing for you."