A lost friend's journey

Chapter 14

Murata was rarely scared, if ever.

She followed Makoto without asking any questions. Venti's life was at risk. Barbatos'.

She couldn't quite come to term that Venti and Barbatos were the same person. Her mind kept repeating to her the first time she had met the bard. He had been lost in his thoughts, she had startled him. He had flinched.

Murata wondered how they could ever make it right with him, how they could ever excuse themselves properly to him.

All that time they had spent uselessly searching for him had been in vain. The Anemo Archon had been right under their nose from the very beginning, and Murata couldn't even bring herself to get mad at him.

What right did she have to?

She didn't know anything about him - she never did. She didn't know enough to judge him, she didn't know enough to pretend she could understand why he avoided them when he knew  they were searching for him.

And the worst part was that she couldn't even ask him for forgiveness if he didn't want to face them, if he avoided them like the plague. 

It made her think, why would he invite them to Weinselefest? Why would he make that move if he didn't want to have anything to do with them? He had seemed as surprised as Murata had felt in that moment. 

It was like he didn't want to have anything to do with them anymore. Like he wanted to forget all about them. Murata had a feeling he would have never revealed to them who he was if he wasn't forced to, if he hadn't been so brutally attacked.

But even if Barbatos didn't want them anymore... She couldn't stand by while he was being probably experimented on or tortured in that place. 

And this resolve led her to the present moment, in a nation that gave her the chills because there was just this forbidden feeling about it she couldn't shake away - and Makoto had never denied nor confirmed that this was somewhere they shouldn't be.

Murata didn't need her to say anything to draw conclusions by herself.

But now, she was standing in front of a strange being that was staring them down, looking at them directly in they eyes, expression cold and distant, lips pursed and clearly displeased. She made Murata feel like they were trespassing. Maybe that was precisely it, her mind supplied to her.

Murata gulped.

"Ah, the archons," she said, voice low and yet impossibly loud in the small space they were in, echoing around the walls and intensifying. Her voice was clear, her tone spiteful.

Murata didn't need anyone to say anything to know she held something against them.

Makoto was the first one among them to speak, "Are you...," she hesitated, biting her lower lip before continuing, "Are you the God of Time?"

The woman raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. Murata was mesmerized by the sheer strength that was emanating from her. The woman simply scoffed, raising her chin.

"And, pray tell, what exactly are you doing in my territory?"

Makoto seemed to be shocked into silence, not knowing how to respond. The woman was confirming she was the God of Time, but the attitude she had towards them... Murata couldn't decide if this was the God's personality or if she genuinely harbored bad feelings towards them. 

Murata had to admit, she was lost. The deity seemed to not have any idea behind their presence here. If the God of Time hadn't been the spirit Makoto saw in her dream, then who was it? She was confused, Murata wanted to know what was going on.