After coaxing Anna, Moh finally arrived to keep his appointment with Barbatos.
Starsnatch Cliff was much like what Moh remembered from his memories and the game—a lush green meadow carpeted with white Cecilias.
The sea breeze blew up from beneath the cliff, carrying a faint brininess that was quickly covered by the floral scent.
Barbatos had already been waiting by the cliff’s edge for a long time.
A dragon lay resting beside him.
Dvalin, the Dragon of the East Wind.
Perhaps bored of waiting, Barbatos was rehearsing the song to be performed at the banquet of the Seven.
It was the grand finale piece to be co-performed by two gods following the symphonic performance of the sprites, lasting over twenty minutes and spanning musical styles from various nations.
Half of the sheet music had been provided by Moh, and Barbatos had optimized and adapted the transitions while filling in the subsequent sections, making it a collaborative creation between the two.
The more Barbatos played, the more ingenious he found it.
The music seemed to possess a magical quality, allowing listeners to feel the composer’s emotions.
He had also heard that the Tsar of White Sands’ Winter Covenant Army had been inspired by his music on multiple occasions, rendering them brave and fierce in battle.
Truly worthy of someone bearing the title of the God of Music.
Though he wondered if the “Tuning” of Remuria originated from this Lord of Sprites.
Barbatos had also heard of the Fontaine region and the nation that had been destroyed by the celestial nail; the wind’s ears were always keen.
Dvalin curled up beside Barbatos.
Although he usually nagged Barbatos for slacking off, he had to admit that the fellow’s poetry and singing were indeed beautiful to listen to.
Mondstadt was a city of wind and idylls, home to many excellent bards, and the Anemo Archon himself was particularly skilled in poetry.
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Suddenly, another violin joined the ensemble.
Dvalin raised his head.
He saw a Frost Sprite playing a violin, stepping onto the lush green grass.
The newcomer had white hair, the long ears of a sprite, and a faint smile in his ice-blue eyes.
His steps were leisurely, and his violin flowed smoothly, naturally weaving into Barbatos’s melody.
Having finished the segment of the duet, both put down their instruments at the same time and smiled at each other.
“Ah, you’re finally here?” Barbatos stowed his lyre and winked at Moh.
He extended a hand toward the dragon beside him.
“Allow me to introduce him. This is Dvalin, the Dragon of the East Wind—my friend, and one of the reliable companions who helped me overthrow Decarabian, the God of Storms.”
He then looked back at Moh.
“And this is my new friend, the Tsar of White Sands of the Pale Star Court, the one among the Seven who wields the Cryo element.”
Moh took a step forward.
He examined the dragon before him.
Its body was slender and elegant, its indigo-blue hide shimmering under the sunlight.
Three pairs of magnificent blue feathered wings extended from its spine like drifting clouds or deep-sea coral. Read this novel at novelping.com for the best experience.
Those clear, bright eyes were staring straight at him.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, beautiful dragon.”
Moh extended his hand.
Cryo energy coalesced in his palm.
Within a few breaths, a small, exquisite ice sculpture took shape.
It was a miniature version of Dvalin, each feathered wing clearly defined, captured in an elegant pose.
He proffered the ice sculpture to Dvalin.
Dvalin lowered his head, gently touching it with the tip of his snout.
The color of the ice was peculiar—a mix of pink and blue, like the sky at dawn, or some rare gemstone.
It was entirely different from the transparent crystals condensed from ordinary Cryo energy.
“To be brought to see me by Barbatos,” Dvalin spoke, his voice deep and resonant, “you must be a friend worth making.”
He raised his eyes to look at the sprite before him.
This person was rather strange.
He was called a sprite, yet he carried an elusive, detached air about him, even more fleeting than Barbatos.
Though he stood right there, it felt as if he might vanish into the horizon at any moment.
“The world deems me mighty and fearsome,” Dvalin said.
“You are the first to call me beautiful.”
“Oh?” Moh blinked.
“But I do think you are very beautiful. Whether by human or sprite standards.” He spoke with genuine sincerity.
Setting aside how beautifully detailed miHoYo’s designs always were—Dvalin’s appearance was completely different from the typical ash-black, fire-spitting dragons of traditional Western fantasy.
He was slender and elegant, brilliantly colored, and supposedly based on a beautiful species of sea slug.
Truly beautiful.
Dvalin stared at him for a moment.
Then, a small vortex of wind swirled out from beside him, gently sweeping the ice sculpture from Moh’s hand and carrying it away into safekeeping.
“My, oh my,” Barbatos chimed in with exaggerated flair.
“My esteemed colleague certainly has an eye for beauty. Truly worthy of the God of Art. Now even I want to collect an ice sculpture like that.”
He stared longingly at the spot where Dvalin had stored the ice sculpture.
Moh glanced at him.
“If you like it, I can make one for you too.”
He extended his hand again.
This time, he sculpted Barbatos.
The same pinkish-blue ice crystal, the same exquisite detail.
Barbatos accepted it with delight.
“It’s absolutely lifelike!” He turned it over and over, examining it.
“But this ice is very peculiar.”
The ice was indeed unusual.
Its blend of pink and blue, coupled with a crystal-like transparency, made the small figurine look like a magnificent work of art.
What was even more unusual was that when holding it, there was no sensation of freezing cold.
“This is Ice VI,” Moh said.
“A crystal capable of sealing life, and it does not derive from the authority of Cryo. You can store energy inside it, making it a minor magical catalyst.”
“Wow, my friend,” Barbatos said, looking up with glittering emerald eyes.
“You are always more mysterious and generous than I expect.”
He caressed the ice sculpture in his hand.
Truly worthy of a Descender who had established good relations with three of the Shades.
Istaroth had even gone out of her way to remind him that befriending Monomakh was always a wise choice.
Dvalin watched the two of them from the side.
One was the Anemo Archon he had known for a long time—frivolous but reliable.
The other was the newly met Tsar of White Sands—elegant, composed, and capable of giving such gifts so casually.
He thought of the tiny ice sculpture he had just put away.
This new friend was indeed quite nice.
“Oh, right,” Barbatos suddenly remembered.
“Moh, which part was that melody you just played from?”
“The beginning of the third movement,” Moh said.
“Didn’t you say the transitions needed optimizing? I tried this version.”
Barbatos blinked.
“I didn’t say out loud that I had optimized the transitions.”
“But didn’t your music already say so?”
“Alright, I see I’ve met a true connoisseur.” He picked up his lyre once more.
“Come, let’s try it again. Dvalin, listen in for us and see which part sounds better.”
Dvalin rolled his eyes.
It was rare for Barbatos to meet someone who could match him in music, which had clearly stirred up his competitive spirit.
Nevertheless, the dragon obediently lay down, resting his head on his front claws.
The sound of instruments rose once more.
The violin and the lyre intertwined—one crisp and pure as snow, the other light as the wind.
The melody flowed over Starsnatch Cliff, drifting toward the distant sea.