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There had always been a distinct sound that was associated with Mondstadt’s wind, no one could really place what it was but it was always there and everyone knew it would never leave.
Maybe that’s why the self-proclaimed ‘best bard in all of Tyvat’ music was so popular; it reminisced that of the wind. Every strum of his lyre flows through the city embedding itself into the crevices of every building, clinging onto the structure almost protectively.
The time when Mondstadt's wind would soothe the most people thought would be in the later hours of the night. Like a lullaby, meant to whisk you off into the joyous world of dreams. It never mattered who you were or where you came from the wind would still rock you to sleep. For some, this was comforting for one this was cruel. The song draped itself over those who still dared to be awake, making them leave the mountain of papers and unfinished work behind.
Though the taverns were always an exception, for when the wind would coo others to sleep, in the tavern it would dance and embrace the atmosphere, if one bottle went missing the bartender knew whose tab to put it on.
Even the unforgiving weather of Dragonspine could not silence the wind, tucking in the artificial life that resides within the snowy hell. Though the tune is loudest around the past tormented dragon, reassuring its freedom and safety.
Yet it cannot soothe all who hear it. The source of the melody sits alone on top of a tree, mindlessly strumming his lyre. The boy has breaded hair and a face that mourns someone who only got the chance to hear the wind's anger. The boy in the tree has a face just like his. A face that isn’t comforted by the winds. The face of the real best bard in all of Tyvat.