Windrise was quiet.
Too quiet.
The sacred tree stood tall and eternal, its trunk scarred by age, its leaves shifting softly in the still air. The moment the group stepped past the outer glade, the wind changed—no longer gentle, no longer free. It whispered, almost wary.
Noah stepped forward, his eyes scanning the forest with sharpened focus. The Force coiled tightly around him.
"This place feels... disturbed," he murmured.
Elysia glanced at the flora. "The colors are wrong. Even the flowers look like they're holding their breath."
Kiana gave a small laugh—forced. "Guess it's just dramatic scenery. We've seen worse, right?"
But her grip on her sword was tight. Too tight.
Lumine led them deeper in, past a grove of twisted roots and broken offerings. The remnants of a shrine lay shattered beneath the canopy. Elemental energy crackled faintly in the air, but it wasn't natural. It pulsed in waves—like something sleeping just beneath the surface.
As they neared the base of the great tree, Noah stopped abruptly. "Something's here."
The ground quaked.
From beneath the earth burst a mutated Ruin Hunter, its armor covered in Abyssal growth. Several smaller, twisted creatures surged behind it—shadowborn beasts with flickering limbs and shrieking mouths.
"Kiana—left!" Lumine shouted.
The battle began.
Noah moved like a phantom, lightsaber humming and slicing in sweeping arcs. He struck with precision, using the Force to sense every shift in the ground. His blade burned clean through corrupted limbs, keeping the flank from being overwhelmed.
Elysia's movements were fluid and radiant, her crystalline arrows arcing through the sky like starlight. She leapt from root to root, guiding her shots to protect Kiana's blind spots, always watching her.
Lumine was pure efficiency. Her blade cut through the dark like a whisper of wind, her elemental power countering the abyssal corruption. But even she began to feel the pressure of the growing swarm.
And Kiana—
She charged forward with reckless strength, a grin on her face. "Let's gooo!" she shouted, slicing through two beasts in a single swing. Her hair whipped behind her, wild with motion.
But something inside her trembled.
Her sword grew heavier.
The voices got louder.
"They're weak. I can help you. Why are you pretending?"
Kiana gritted her teeth, her swings growing wider. A beast lunged for her back—she twisted and cleaved it in two, but her breathing was ragged.
A flash of gold shimmered in her right eye.
Her next strike released a wave of void energy, pure and uncontrollable. It hit three enemies at once, reducing them to dust and silence. But the moment the energy faded, her knees nearly buckled.
"Kiana!" Elysia's voice rang out—urgent, but not panicked.
"I'm fine!" Kiana shouted, snapping back to her feet. "Just got excited, that's all!"
Noah's blade deflected a leaping shadowspawn as he turned his gaze toward her, the Force screaming warnings into his mind.
Lumine spun beside her, parrying a corrupted claw. "Something's wrong. She's unstable."
More creatures poured from the dark, but they fought harder now—driven by instinct, or perhaps sensing weakness.
Kiana moved faster than thought, carving her way forward. She wasn't fighting anymore—she was lashing out. The ground around her cracked with every step, her sword glowing faintly with abyssal energy she didn't recognize.
"Let me protect them," the voice purred from deep within. "You're not strong enough alone."
"No," she hissed. "Not you. Not again."
With a cry, she leapt and slammed her sword down into the final beast, cleaving it through as a ripple of unnatural power flared outward.
Silence followed.
The Ruin Hunter's shell hissed and cracked, collapsing in a heap. The corrupted mist dissipated slowly. The wind returned—slowly. Softly. Windrise exhaled.
Kiana stood alone at the center, panting, shoulders shaking. Then, as if sensing their eyes on her, she straightened, wiped her brow, and turned with a bright grin.
"Still got it!" she said, laughing breathlessly. "Piece of cake."
No one answered.
They regrouped silently. Elysia's smile didn't return. Lumine kept stealing glances at Kiana. Noah didn't sheath his saber right away.
—
The walk back to Mondstadt was quiet. Kiana walked ahead, humming, her usual energy in every step. She tossed a stick in the air, caught it, and laughed to herself.
But none of them laughed with her.
Elysia lingered at the rear, gaze still fixed on Kiana's back.
Lumine walked beside Noah. "You felt it too," she said.
"I did."
"She's not telling us everything."
"She's trying to," Noah replied. "In her own way."
The wind brushed past them again.
Elysia lowered her voice as they crested the final ridge. "Something's wrong with her."
Noah didn't answer. He didn't need to.
Kiana, ahead of them, threw her arms into the breeze.
"Another named commission cleared! What's next?" she called over her shoulder, grinning.
Her smile glowed in the sunlight.
But behind her, shadows stirred.
—
Not long after, Kiana lingered behind, stepping away from the others as they passed beneath the canopy. She wandered back toward the Windrise tree, drawn not by thought, but by instinct.
The wind stirred again.
This time, it whispered her name.
She looked around—nothing but leaves, roots, and silence. Yet her heart pounded.
"I'm fine," she muttered to herself. "Just… tired."
But something inside her didn't believe it.
She placed her hand against the bark of the great tree. It felt warm—too warm. As if the tree itself remembered something… or someone.
Then, faintly, the breeze shifted. It carried not fear, but a strange melody—soft, sorrowful, ancient.
A single feather drifted down from above. Pale green, rimmed in gold. It landed in her palm.
The moment it touched her skin, the wind calmed.
Kiana stared at it, her smile slowly fading. "What is this…?" she whispered.
A laugh echoed—not hers. Not malevolent. Just… playful. Distant. Like a forgotten song sung by the sky.
The feather shimmered once, then faded.
Kiana didn't move for a long time.
When she finally rejoined the others, her smile returned. But her steps were slower. Her laugh didn't rise as high.
She felt it in her chest—uncertainty, fear… and a question she couldn't name.
Somewhere above, the wind carried that tune away.
And somewhere far beyond their sight, a presence stirred.
Far above, high among the winds that touched no earth, a presence stirred.
It did not announce itself. It did not descend.
But its melody lingered, as though the very air remembered a song long forgotten. A song of laughter. Of rebellion. Of mourning.
The breeze carried no name. Only a hum.
A silent witness.
And perhaps, a warning.