The Second Archon War, Carmen Dei 2 (Patreon)

Beta’d and edited by The Grand Cogitator and Dr_Feelgood

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Steeling himself, Nakamura bowed to Raiden, motioning for her to enter. “Thank you, your Supreme Excellency, for gracing me with this visit.”

“You are one of the heads of the Tri-Commission. It is your privilege to request a personal audience with me whenever you so desire,” Raiden said, nodding to him, then entering and seating herself, taking a sip from the ice-cold bottle of soda on the table. “Hmm, yes, this is quite good. This is made in Japan, yes?”

“Indeed. We’ve had to start producing it domestically in fact,” Nakamura said, sitting down across from Raiden. He folded his hands together to keep them from trembling. “Lady Raiden, while it is not within my purview to set foreign policy, only to enforce your will…changes are going to need to be made. And soon.”

“Oh?” Raiden frowned, setting the bottle down. “Has not Japanese craftsmanship and production increased thanks to the sacred Sakura trees?”

“Yes. Our costs are so much lower than any other nation when it comes to heavy industry because of our free and unlimited energy that we are undercutting markets globally. We can make everything from aluminum and steel, to chemicals, to paper, to heavy machinery and even electronics far cheaper than any other nation. Which is why every nation on Earth has enacted or is close to enacting protectionary tariffs against Japan to protect their own local industries, as well as raising prices on any goods Japan imports from them. This is going to collapse our own markets and lead to a massive economic downturn if something is not done soon.”

Raiden frowned slightly. “They fear our might?”

“That, and, well…” he steeled himself again, feeling the tension in his stomach writhe like a nest of serpents. “Your actions, and lack of action, has provoked other nations. They are confused, afraid, and enraged that you have not acted against Behemoth or the new Endbringer.”

“They have not attacked Japan. Why should I?” Raiden said with a shrug.

“It’s excusable perhaps to not send our Vision Holders across the world,” Nakamura said, using the term that Raiden preferred for Parahumans. Though he was getting more reports that a new subset of Parahumans was arising that were baffling experts, all of them seeming to possess Raiden’s powers. “However, our complete lack of investment and interest in foreign affairs beyond the bare basics of diplomacy is causing a stir. We’ve alienated the Americans and refused to talk to them, and they were our largest trading partner previously. China was our next largest trading partner, and aside from the fact that they’re suffering economic catastrophe and internal rebellions, they too have been completely alienated. We were making some progress with other Southeast Asian nations, as well as nations in Europe, but our cold attitude has soured them. They’re threatening sanctions.”

Raiden considered this. “I do not understand these matters. I have been told these nations do not have gods of their own, what grudge do they have against me then?”

By that, Nakamura knew she also meant Japan. In Raiden’s mind, she was Japan, and frankly it was hard to argue with her. She was an absolute monarch in a fashion that hadn’t been seen since the collapse of the Great Empires of Europe after World War I. To Nakamura’s mind, and the mind of most of the citizens of Japan, Raiden was also the physical incarnation of the Spirit of Japan in a way more real than had been seen since the days when Emperor Worship was fervently practiced. In the eyes of the world, this wasn’t quite the case, but Raiden was definitely the face of the nation and a target of outrage and scorn by many.

“The Vatican, a nation that is home of the Catholic Church, has publicly denounced you and declared you an Antichrist, or perhaps the Antichrist. I do not know enough about their theology to understand this fully, but they have great sway over many other countries, especially in South America and Europe. They specifically find your claims of godhood to be blasphemy,” Nakumura said, wincing. Indeed, after the Pope had denounced Raiden, nations with large Catholic populations had been the first to levy sanctions on Japan, though that was also an economic move as Japan was set to devastate their own industries.

“Why should they care? I make no claim of authority over their lands,” Raiden said, frowning as thunder rumbled outside.

Nakamura sighed. The only way he understood Christianity was that he’d studied its history in Japan briefly and because it was important politically to a number of nations as it laid the basis for their values system. He still had a hard time understanding why they cared about the goddess of Japan at all, but they did. “They are an apostolic religion, but it is getting us sidetracked. The point is, we need to shift our policy because you threaten other nations and frighten them.”

“I see.” Raiden considered this briefly, then nodded. “Very well. How do you suggest we change things?”

“Well, for one, you need to start attending summits, making state visits, and playing ball with the other nations,” Nakamura said. When Raiden’s brow creased, he sighed and clarified, “You need to start treating this as a co-op game instead of single-player.”

“Ah.” Raiden pondered this for a few moments, looking out the window of Nakamura’s office to the streets of Tokyo below. She went over, examining the cars and people streaming by below them, and Nakamura went to stand beside her.

After a few minutes of contemplation, Raiden spoke. “This world is strange and alien to me. I confess I do not understand why other nations are so concerned about what seems to me to be our internal affairs, nor why they would wish for me to meddle in theirs.”

Nakamura felt his heart sink, but Raiden continued. “That said, I appointed you as head of the Kanjou Commission because I knew you would speak truth from courage to me. I will respect your advice and decisions. Draw up a list of diplomatic visits that must be made and appoint aides to help in crafting speeches for me to address the foreigners with. Send speakers of the foreign tongues as well to check that my words will not be misunderstood.”

“You wish to learn other languages?” Nakamura asked, surprised by this. He was fairly certain Raiden understood English as he had overheard her arguing with Kenta about whether dubbed or subtitled Disney movies were superior, but he wasn’t certain about the rest.

“If it is a mortal tongue, or even one of yokai tongues, I speak it already,” Raiden informed him. “Though at times, I have found my understanding of certain idioms to be lacking.”

“Ah.” Nakamura nodded, accepting that. Raiden was, after all, a goddess. “There is one other thing, your Excellency, though not of great import.”

“Speak, I am listening.”

“There are a number of scientists, ah, scholars, who wish to study the so-called monsters that have arisen. I also…well, do you know why they have appeared? The slimes, whopperflowers, specters, and so on,” Nakamura said.

Raiden only shrugged. “I have no qualms about allowing scholars to study here, so long as they do not attempt to steal our secrets. The Akademiya would send its sages and students to Inazuma for many such projects. As for why the monsters appear, it has always been so. Perhaps they merely return, for I have seen such beings spoken of in your legends.”

Nakamura was pretty sure that meant they appeared in popular video games. He’d actually started to try to get the Yashiro Commission to make some educational manga, anime, and video games for Raiden’s benefit. She would read books or listen to lectures, but she tired of them quickly. And, well, a bored goddess was not a problem you wanted to have.

“Well, then perhaps they will give us some answers. We will of course, carefully check the backgrounds of all such individuals. Some are sure to be spies.”

“Ah, if you find any, be sure to treasure them. A known agent is one we can feed whatever lies and truths we wish, then dispose of if they become a threat,” Raiden said. At times, she was rather canny, and always far from a fool.

“Thank you, your Excellency. I will have my staff submit a list of conferences that it would be helpful for you to attend, and some potential allies in the region we could begin to form closer ties with,” Nakamura said, smiling. He noticed Raiden was finished with her drink and fetched her another.

Really, bribing god with sweets and games wasn’t such a bad deal after all. He had learned to live with Raiden. Now, she had to learn to live with the rest of the world.

Playing with the ice in her cup, Capri looked across the table at Venti and tried not to sweat, despite the chill air. Venti seemed utterly absorbed with his milkshake, slurping loudly through the straw. Earlier, he’d been blowing bubbles in it. It was frankly weird to see a…whatever he was doing that, but she still wasn’t certain what to do.

Next to her, Naomi was looking into her cup of tea and staring at her reflection. She had been rather silent since they’d left the library, and neither of them were exactly sure what to do.

“Ah, that hit the spot! Just like something Diona would make!” Venti laughed, setting his milkshake down at last. He rested his elbows on the table and set his head in his hands, smiling at them both. “Now, I’m sure you’ve got a lot of questions. Go ahead and ask. No one can hear us, the winds will mute our words.”

“Are you…are you…the Lord?” Naomi asked, looking up nervously.

“Hmm. I’m going to venture you’re asking if I’m a specific god you know, so let me explain what I am and see if that answers your question.” Venti lifted his hands, creating a sort of screen between them that showed flashing images. “I’m from another land entirely. After looking at that atlas and reading that world history book, I think it’s safe to say that it’s probably another world. It’s called Teyvat.” A map, showing a strange-looking continent appeared, looking almost real as if you were looking down from space. “Within it were seven lands. One of them was my land: Mondstadt, land of Wind and Freedom.”

The image zoomed in, and Capri found herself holding her breath as she beheld wide rolling hills and grassy plains, along with giant windmills turning in the breeze. “For 2600 years, I was the god of Mondstadt, Barbados. I didn’t rule Mondstadt directly, though I did help out on occasion and make sure their lives were their own to live.”

People, regular people, appeared. They looked Germanic, actually, with light skin and hair, and dressed mostly as Capri thought someone from the Medieval period or Renaissance would, with colorful fabric and buildings of wood with red-tiled roofs.

“As the Ameno Archon, I would wander the land, just like a breeze, singing songs and staving off the worst dangers. There were other gods of other lands, but they kept to their lands and I to mine. However…there were always the Dictates of Celestia. Those rankled, but, well, I couldn’t do much about them! Still, life in Mondstadt was pretty good. However…I did lose my Gnosis. That was, well, think of it as a badge of office. I suspect that Celestia figured out just why the Tsaritsa’s minions got mine so easily, and well…I just hope Her judgment fell only on me.”

An image of Venti making a deal with shadowed figures, then losing what looked like a glowing green chess piece to a masked woman, then appearing in that alley Capri had found him in.

“So…you’re not the Lord of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob?” Naomi asked slowly.

“And you’re not Jesus Christ either,” Capri snorted, which got her a sour look from Naomi.

“No, I’d be interested to hear about this god of yours though. Are they the god of, what was, it, Israel?” Venti asked curiously. “It didn’t seem like there was a German god who ordered the religious persecution, but…well, I’ve seen that happen before.”

“Did…did you have Jews in Mondstadt?” Naomi asked, tears filling her eyes.

“No, though there were groups similar to the Romani,” Venti mused. “Travelers, who didn’t call one place home. There were those who tried to persecute them.” His expression darkened. “But I made sure the nobles fell, never to rise again. And that the Imunlaukr were wiped out completely for their sins.”

“Oh, well, ah…I guess…I can tell you a little of the history of the Jews, and how we became the Chosen People,” Naomi agreed.

Capri sat back and listened as Naomi spoke, hesitantly at first, but then with more fervor, moving her hands as if she were dancing as she did so. They’d never really talked about Naomi’s beliefs, since after all Capri wasn’t Jewish. She knew Naomi was religious and was fine with it, but the finer points of Jewish theology had escaped her.

“Interesting. So you really believe there’s only one, creator God?” Venti asked when Naomi wound down.

“Well, yes, but we don’t say…ah, His name. Some of us won’t even say G_d,” Naomi said hesitantly. “You’re…you’re not…?”

“Oh, no, definitely not,” Venti said with a dismissive wave. “I suppose to your way of thinking, I would be a powerful spirit or angel. The one who created the world…well, I can’t say for sure about this one, but in Teyvat we didn’t really talk much.”

“So, wait. Do you expect us to worship you or not?” Capri asked, leaning back and frowning. She really didn’t understand all this.

“Ehhhhh,” Venti made a face and waggled his hand back and forth. “I guess at some point I did need some worship to achieve apotheosis. I was born as a simple Wind Spirit, one you’d call a…faerie? Yes, I think that’s the word. Well, anyway, I made friends with a human, helping them to fight against a terrible tyrant, the Anemo Archon before me. My friend fell in battle and…and for the first time, I knew loss. I took up their harp, much like this one here, and continued the fight, taking their form as my own. I allied with other gods and powerful spirits, as well as making friends of the common people. We ended up overthrowing the Ameno Archon, the god of Mondstadt at the time. And, well, no one else wanted the job, so…I took it.”

“At first I did need worship to grow in power, much like an infant needs his mother’s milk. But once I grew into the strong, handsome man you see before you,” Venti batted his eyelashes playfully, making Capri snort despite her best intentions, “I didn’t need it any longer. I still maintained my position, watching over the land, but, well, to be honest…it gets sort of embarrassing having people worship you. Some gods enjoy it, or covet the power mortal belief grants them, but me? Well, I’d rather share a beer and a laugh with some friends.”

Capri and Naomi shared a perplexed look, and then turned back to Venti. Licking her lips, Naomi asked, “So…what do you want?”

“Well, first of all, I’m going to try out some of this famous German Beer!” Venti held up a tourist brochure, showing the recently concluded Oktoberfest. “I’m really disappointed I missed the big party this year, but there’s always next year! I’ll do some singing, earn a bit of money, and make new friends!”

Venti had been smiling and laughing, but he suddenly grew serious, and a storm brewed in his eyes. “And along the way, I’m going to find every single last Nazi bastard, and hang them by their underwear from the highest pole in the town square so everyone can know how foolish they really are.”

“That’s a plan I can get behind,” Capri said, nodding in agreement.

“You mentioned singing, and you have that harp. Are you a musician?” Naomi asked curiously. “David was, he was famous for playing.”

Venti gave her a pained look, then picked up his harp, and began to play.

There will come a soldier

Who carries a mighty sword

He will tear your city down

Oh lei, oh lai, oh, Lord

Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh, Lord

He will tear your city down

All around them in the cafe, silence fell. Even the cooks stopped working, peaking their heads out from the back. The waitress froze in the act of taking an order, turning around to see Venti play. Seeing he had an audience, Venti sprang up to stand with one foot on the table, the other in his chair, as he continued to play, singing louder and louder.

Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh, Lord

There will come a poet

Whose weapon is His word

He will slay you with His tongue

Oh lei, oh lai, oh, Lord

Oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh, Lord

He will slay you with His tongue

Oh lei, oh lai, oh, Lord

Capri found herself tapping her foot and clapping along, a smile blooming on her face as the music lifted her spirits. She could feel the cares and worries of the world lift from her shoulders, and tension melt away from her muscles. Beside her, Naomi slid out from her seat and began to dance, stepping in time with the music, her arms tracing shapes in the air.

Venti kept singing, but when he came to the chorus, he cried, “Sing it with me now!”

The entire restaurant echoed with Oh lei, oh lai, oh, Lord! Capri found herself pulled out of her seat by Capri and dancing as other patrons pulled back the tables and chairs, others standing to dance and clap. More people looked in from the street, hearing the music and drawn in as if by magic. Venti finished, paused to get a drink, then launched into another song.

Before Capri knew it, several hours had passed. Somehow, she had borrowed an acoustic guitar, she wasn’t sure from where, and was playing along to songs she’d never heard before while hitting every note perfectly, singing harmony with Venti. Naomi had gotten some sort of toy bongo from somewhere and was playing it as beautifully as if it were a finely crafted drum in a concert hall.

The cafe itself was full to bursting, with every table filled. The windows had been thrown open, and people outside were listening on benches or tables that had been dragged over, while the center of the diner had become a dance floor. The waitress was so busy they’d hired three more people on the spot to help serve, and the cooks had drafted another half a dozen people to help them feed the massive crowd. The restaurant across the street was also bringing in food, and the entire thing had turned into a massive party the likes of which Capri had only seen on rare festival days or large Romani weddings.

“Thank you, thank you!” Venti said, bowing to the crowd. There was loud applause and cheers, even a few whistles. Everyone was smiling and happy, even the tired-out waitresses and cooks. “But, I’m afraid that’s all for now. My friends and I have other work to do.”

“What’s your name?” someone called, and it was echoed by others.

“Me? I’m just a Tone Deaf Bard, blown in by the wind,” Venti laughed.

“The Tone Deaf Bards!” someone cried, and there were more whoops and cheers, along with hands pounding the tables in delight.

“The Tone Deaf Bards?” Capri shouted in Venti’s ear, as it was the only way to be heard in the ruckus. “We were called Stubborn Flames!”

“Ehe, sorry! Can’t be helped,” Venti said, winking and sticking his tongue out while he rapped his knuckles on his forehead.

They made their way out, but before they were more than a few steps out of the door a middle-aged man with round spectacles and a pink sweater hurried over to them, and said in a very pronounced lisp, “Oh my God! Capri, Naomi, who IS this lovely man? Where did you find him?!”

“Oh, Leon, uh, this is, er,” Capri glanced at Venti, who smiled.

“Venti! Venti Luft! I take it you know these two lovely ladies already?” Venti said.

Leon nodded, grabbing Venti and wrapping him in a hug. “Yes! I’m Leon Littner, owner of a small little bar just down the way called the Cheeky Ferret. We attract a certain crowd.” He fluttered his eyelashes and smiled at Venti. “I’ve had Capri and Naomi come play before, they’re such nice girls, and so talented! You just have to come, the boys there will just LOVE you Venti! There’s a big twink scene, you know, even if I’m more into Bears myself.”

“Ah, well, I don’t know if, er, Venti really-” Capri began, blushing mightily at the thought of god playing at a gay bar and getting hit on by half the men there.

“We’d love to!” Naomi burbled. “That was so much fun! Oh, Venti, you just have to join our band! Everyone would love you!”

“A bar, you say? Free drinks, right?” Venti naked in a teasing tone.”In that case, I’m there!”

Leon gave him a knowing smile. “One drink an hour on the house, or all the water and soda you want. Buuuutttt, if you can get the boys to buy you a beer or three, well, that’s just a bonus right? It’s 100 marks for the night in pay.”

“One fifty,” Capri said, her business sense kicking in before Naomi had them play for free or Venti had them play for booze. “We have a third member now, the price just went up.”

“Hmmm, one hundred is my standard rate,” Leon said, rubbing his chin.

“Leon, look at this place. You’ll double your customer base and you know it,” Capri said, gesturing to the packed diner. “No one even knew we were going to play. Book us for three nights. By the third night, Gunter won’t even be able to keep them out.”

“Oh how dare you talk about my big strong man like that,” Leon laughed, brushing the front of Capri’s blouse and laughing. “Fine, fine. We’ll call it 450 for three nights. But Venti you just have to be there every night, OK?”

“For free beers, you’ll have to nail the doors and windows shut to keep me out!” Venti laughed.

“Very good, very good, I’ll see you then,” Leon said, blowing them a kiss and then hurrying off.

“I like him!” Venti said, planting his hands on his hips and smiling. “I bet his bar’s a great place to drink!”

“I like it! It’s nice to hang out with other-oh.” Naomi suddenly blushed heavily, the implications of what they’d just agreed to washing over her. “Um, Venti, er, the Feisty Ferret, um, it’s-”

“It’s a gay bar,” Capri said bluntly.

“Well, I should hope so! Every bar should be gay! If people aren’t having a good time, what’s even the point of having a bar? That’s why I was always telling Diluc he should smile more when he was serving drinks!” Venti laughed.

“Uh, we um, we don’t mean a happy bar,” Naomi admitted.

“It’s a club for homos like us,” Capri said, pulling Naomi into a hug. Naomi blushed, but pecked Capri on the cheek and hugged her, then glared at Venti as if daring him to object.

“Er, can’t you drink at any bar?” Venti asked, clearly confused. “Or is it a bar for musicians? I don’t think I quite follow.”

“Most bars, um, don’t like it when people like us…”

Once more, Capri cut the bullshit and told Venti exactly how it was. “A lot of bars these days will throw you out if you start hitting on someone of the same sex. And some bars you’ll get knifed. Others it’s OK, but you have to know where it’s safe to let your flag fly. Leon’s place is a safe place. He opened it back in the 70s, and he’s had to fight off some of the damn Brownshirts from the LSLR more than once. Gustav was from East Germany, and some say he was in some spec ops group back before the wall fell. No one fucks with him, but had shootouts with those bastards and ended up in jail a few times because the police are all fuck heads.”

“Not all the police, Naomi, most of them hate the LSLR as much as we do,” Naomi said, but she had tears in her eyes.

Venti had stopped walking, and his eyes were stormy again. This time, it looked more like a hurricane than a gentle breeze. “Oh? So, exactly like it was in the Holocaust, then? These bastards think they can tell people who it’s OK to love, and harass anyone who steps out of line?”

Capri and Naomi both nodded.

Venti grinned. And it was all predator. “Rrrreaaaaaaallllyyy. So…how hard would it be to let them know that they’ll be a big gathering? A ripe, juicy target for them to attack?”

“Uh, Venti, why would we…” Naomi trailed off, and a cold wind blew, making her shiver.

“Because I think we just found an avenging angel. Or something like that,” Capri said, returning the devilish grin and cracking her knuckles. “And I think we owe those bastards some payback.”

Author’s Note

While Carmen Dei will mostly focus on Venti and the Tone Deaf Bards, we’ll still see what’s going on in the wider world, and with Raiden and Japan in particular. I can't say exactly how many chapters this section will be, but I expect it will take more than Imperatrix Umberosa as we have more characters to manage now. 

And also the Epic Drinking Contest in Berlin that Venti has with Raiden as he tries to figure out what is going on and she continues to be oblivious.