Those Who Share the Memory

6.

Barbatos would have liked to say that he was familiar with Mondstadt.

In spring, Mondstadt city would waft with the smell of flowers carried across the breeze from storefronts, in preparation for the Windblume Festival. In summer, the air became more sticky and the odour of wine often permeated the air as many drank away, bars becoming a particular hotspot during the night. It was during the autumn season that the winds often picked up and one walking along the streets of Mondstadt could perhaps smell the faintest whiff of freshly baked bread along the main plaza and in winter, the smell of roasted food often tingled passersby's noses as furnaces were turned up high. Those were the familiar smells of Mondstadt to Barbatos yet, as he gazed down at the city beneath him, the decaying stench of rotting corpses seized his lungs and a heavy coat of ashes and smoke choked the air.

Looking around, it seemed that he had forgotten just how different Old Mondstadt was from the city that he once lived and breathed in. In contrast to the bustling streets of Mondstadt City, Old Mondstadt was but a cage of death. Where once bards had sung songs all year long, all he heard was cruel silence.

The people were too scared to move, directionless without a God. Many bodies had never been able to be properly buried and were cast aside under rubble and other stray debris. It was all the reminder of the destruction that the rebellion had brought - the price of freedom wasn't always pretty. In this case, it was a shame that it had to be the blood and lives of many.

He had been nought but a wind spirit back then, one of the thousand winds. But in front of his people, he was now a god. And if his people wanted a face of order within the chaos; a face of hope and peace to help overcome the pain, then he was willing to give them that. For his people to freely fly, he was willing to sacrifice his own wings and freedom.

Barbatos let his voice ring loudly. "It seems that I have disappeared for too long. To the people of Mondstadt, I offer my sincerest apology."

The citizens remained quiet, still in shock as they stared at the god in front of them.

Barbatos continued. "Please understand, I am not Decarabian. The times of Decarabian are over and I Barbatos, God of Freedom, swear to protect your freedom. Both as my duty as a god, but also from my desire to see your happiness.

Go forth and establish a city of freedom without rule. That is my wish for you."

Is freedom demanded of you by a god really freedom at all?

He brushed the question aside. Now wasn't the time.

"Ehe~ It seems that there is quite a lot of work to be done. The days do tally so let us not dally." He pushed himself off the ledge and gently drifted towards the ground to which his feet touched the dusty and dirt-ridden pebbled streets. A tug on his outfit surprised him as he spun around, only to see a small child with his arms outstretched.

"Mr Barbietoes, I'm hungwy." The child's voice was soft and the boy's eyes darted from one place on the ground to the next as they avoided making contact with him.

A woman rushed, pushing to the front of the crowd, rotting fruits falling from the straw basket looped around her arm. "Henry, come back to Mama! Don't be so rude, It's impolite to touch a god." The woman protectively wrapped an arm around her child, pushing him away from the god. In the process, the boy tripped over his mother's dress, a high-pitched squeak escaping his lips.

Instead of the impact of landing into hard dirt, gentle hands embraced the child, shielding him from the ground. Barbatos crouched down to be at eye level with the boy. "Henry was it?" He extended his hand out and while a flicker of fear flashed in the mother's eyes, the boy remained standing firm, staring at his hand curiously.