The Second Archon War, Carmen Dei 3 (Patreon)

Beta’d and edited by Yae Miko, Philosophysics, Arcahm Wynter, and the Grand Cogitator

With only two days until Wednesday night and the Tone Deaf Bards’ debut, Naomi had to put her foot down. She was nervous about it, still rather uncertain of just how she should react to Venti. She decided to just pretend he wasn’t an angel, or worse actually a demon, and act like he was just a friend she had just met and who needed a little help.

“Venti, no offense, but… your clothes,” Naomi motioned to Venti’s ensemble. “They need some help…”

“I did notice I stick out like a lawacurl at the Windbloom feast,” Venti admitted, giving Naomi a lopsided grin. “While I am fond of these clothes, I suppose I could do with a new outfit.”

“We don’t have that much money, but I, ah, I think we can scrape together enough for something that will work for our performance,” Naomi said, wincing at the thought of her and Capri’s budget. The life of a couple of wandering musicians didn’t exactly result in an overabundance of funding.

Which was one reason she avoided talking with her mother. Aside from the fact that her mother refused to speak with her until she “got over this silly phase with girls,” there was the whole issue of all that expensive schooling she had that her mother claimed Naomi wasn’t using.

Well, she was, it was just that she’d taken her theater and dance training in a very different direction. Besides, she’d always enjoyed playing the drums, and now she could play as much as she wanted to.

“Will those marks those thugs thoughtfully donated to us help?” Venti asked curiously. “In Mondstadt, you can usually expect to pay a month's wages for a decent outfit.”

“Uh, I think maybe things are cheaper here. It’ll cost a couple hundred marks to get you a few sets of clothes of good quality, but that’s buying everything from shoes and underwear to jackets and pants,” Naomi said, glancing to Capri for confirmation..

“Hey, we can just get him some secondhand stuff for half the price,” Capri said. Naomi was grateful she left out the part about “not all of us grew up rich.” She’d stopped with the rich jokes after Naomi had told her how much that hurt her a year or so ago. Sometimes she did miss having a home and nice things, but then Capri would touch her, and she was glad she’d run away with her all over again.

“Most of them can be secondhand,” Naomi allowed. “But we need at least one nice outfit for performances.” It would have been better to have a new outfit for each night they performed, but Venti hadn’t stolen that much from those jerks.

“A shopping trip? That does sound interesting! Though you say it doesn’t cost as much to get new clothing? These cost me quite a bit of mora, though I think a mark is perhaps worth more than a mora,” Venti said, pulling out some bills and unfolding them. “We’re getting paid 150 marks a night to perform?”

“Yeah, and in a three-way split that actually isn’t a lot,” Capri sighed. “Most of the time we work the day shift doing odd jobs. We called out today, which won’t do us any favors. But, uh, well, things change…”

“Usually, I can make between eighty and one hundred marks on a normal day,” Naomi agreed. “I usually can find a day job at the local synagogue, sometimes as a waitress or clerk, other times as a painter or even a fruit picker.”

“I work as a short order cook, usually. I’ve traveled enough that I know enough people who can appreciate my skills. It was here in Munich that I ran away the first time, and old Ziggler taught me,” Capri said with a shrug.

“So, you’re not full-time musicians?” Venti asked, nodding to the instruments in the back of the van. They were sitting around outside it, enjoying the evening air with some takeout. They’d gotten plenty of tips thanks to Venti’s performance at the dinner that morning and thus were having a little treat.

“I wish,” Capri said with a snort. “It’s hard enough for a gypsy and a Jewess to get gig jobs at venues in good times. Throw in the fact that we move around a lot and the current crop of assholes, and of course the damn capes running around…”

“But with your help, I’m sure our next performance will be a smash hit!” Naomi said happily, standing up. “Come on, the stores will be open for a few more hours.”

It wasn’t that far to some decent secondhand stores, where Naomi busied herself selecting outfits for Venti and Capri browsed around, earning herself glares from the shopkeeper. That always irritated Naomi, but Capri just ignored it. Venti seemed to notice but didn’t say anything, sticking with Naomi as she picked out clothes.

“You’re on the short side, so I’m afraid there isn’t much selection. You’d almost fit better into women’s clothing,” Naomi said with a sigh, holding up a pair of women’s jeans that would probably fit Venti.

“Those do look like they’d fit me,” Venti said, taking the pants and holding them to his waist. “I can always adjust my form if I have to.”

“You…can make yourself taller?” Naomi asked, wondering just what sort of powers an angel had. She’d seen capes before, even one that had some mild mind control powers, but the sense of awe and power that Venti had briefly radiated hadn’t been anything like a parahuman.

“And a few other things,” Venti said, taking the clothes they’d selected. “I’ll just try these on.”

He headed for the changing rooms, leaving behind Naomi. She shot a look to Capri who was a few rows down, but Capri just shrugged. It wasn’t like they didn’t know men who preferred women’s clothing, and it certainly wouldn’t stick out at the Feisty Ferret.

“Sir, these are the women’s changing rooms,” an attendant told Venti. She pointed across the store. “The men’s are over there.”

“Really? Could I try on those clothes behind you?” Venti asked, pointing behind the attendant.

She frowned, turning to see several skirts ready to be re-shelved behind her. Venti’s form rippled slightly when she did so, a faint breeze whipping the clothes around him. Or…her? Naomi blinked rapidly, and Venti turned to her, putting a finger to…her lips? Oh dear.

“Uh, I suppose you could try on these skirts sir, but…” the woman turned back and blinked. Venit now had hips and a bust. Not terribly pronounced, but still obviously feminine. “Oh! I do apologize, um, ma’am, I, er-”

“Well, I’ll take the skirt and just be in the women’s changing room,” Venti said lightly, snatching a green skirt from the rack and heading into the changing room.

“Did…did you know Venti could do that?” Naomi whispered to Capri, leaning over a clothing rack.

“Hey, you’re the religious one! Can angels or whatever shapeshift?” Capri hissed back.

“Um, well, they’re usually called the Sons of God, but…I think I really need to talk to Rabbi Goldstein now,” Naomi said faintly. She hadn’t exactly slacked off during her religious studies, but she was realizing quickly that there was a lot she didn’t know. Maybe all that time reading kabbalah instead of the torah hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

Venti came out a few minutes later, now back in a more masculine form, but wearing the women’s jeans with a white and green striped long-sleeve shirt. “Well, what do you think? I rather like this style of trousers. What’s the fabric? It seems rather sturdy.”

“It’s denim. That does look good on you, um, Venti, turn for me? Hmm, baggier jeans are in style but they do look good on you I suppose…”

“I do look rather dapper, don’t you think?” Venti giggled. “I-” He suddenly trailed off, then grabbed Capri and Naomi and dragged them both to the ground.

A moment later, someone flew through the glass windows at the front of the store, prompting screams and shouts from the patrons and clerks.

The one who’d been thrown stood up, brushing themselves off. They were a tall, muscular man in a cape outfit that left their chest bare with only red ropes running over their chest, and torn and bloody baggy pants. A demonic red mask with large fangs covered their face and gave them an intimidating air. However, that was ruined when the man spoke. “It’s cool, it’s cool folks! Sorry about the mess, not my fault! But never fear! The One and Oni hero of the Meisters is here to-”

A massive club with thorny spikes on it flew out of the night and slammed into the man’s chest, making him grunt. “Ow! Uh, well, thanks for throwing me my club! Now, if you lovely citizens could please evacuate before me and my compadre trash the place while we settle our differences, that’d be super.”

“Let’s go!” Naomi hissed, pointing to a back exit, where several others were already scrambling or crawling towards. “Cape fight!”

Venti, however, had already popped up. Somehow, he was back in his original regalia, and holding the harp they’d left back at the van, though he also had on a domino mask of all things. “Good evening my good sir, I do have to wonder if you normally do this sort of thing. Be thou a villain, here to accost the gentle citizenry?”

“What? No, man, you’ve got it all wrong!” the cape said, picking up the club and waving it around like it weighed nothing. “Dammit, it’s the mask, isn’t it? I know it’s the mask. Ah man, I thought it would look so sick, you know? Big scary demon guy, but one with a heart of gold here to-”

Another object flew out of the night to slam into him. It was apparently a mailbox, as letters exploded from it, scattering papers around to flutter everywhere.

“Ah man, I’d really love to talk and all, but I gotta deal with this real quick. I’ll work on the mask, don’t worry. Catch ya later! IT’S CLOBBERIN’ TIME!” the masked man cried, and leapt forward, swinging his club as hard as he could.

“Come on, now’s our chance,” Naomi urged, but Capri had stood up to stand next to Venti, and neither of them were going anywhere.

“Hmm, hold on, he’ll be back in a moment,” Venti said, frowning. “Those are some really weird visions though. One of them almost seems to have an Anemo Vision, but our friend, ah, never mind, here he comes.”

“aaaaaAAAAAAAA!”

The man flew in through a previously unshattered window, landing with a mighty crash amongst the racks of clothing. Fortunately, everyone else had listened to his warning to evacuate, and his dramatic re-entrance didn’t cause any injuries.

“It’s clobbering time?” Capri asked, frowning at where the man was struggling to his feet. “You ripped that off a comic book, didn’t you?”

“What?” the man jerked his head around, waving his hands in a negative. “No, no, no, I promise, totally original! I just, you see, I’m the Red ‘Takes a Hit and Keeps on Truckin’ Oni! And I got a club, for hitting things. I’m still working on a motto, you see, and-”

“Duck,” Venti advised.

“Huh? No, duck isn’t a slogan it’s-”

A garbage can flew through the broken window and wrapped itself around the cape's head. This didn’t seem to bother him overly much, as he peeled it off and tossed it aside without breaking stride.

“Ooooooh! You meant like, I should duck. Got it. I feel you, I feel you. Uh, anyway, you folks really should evacuate and stuff, so I can finish this battle.”

“Are you Japanese? I recognize the mask and name,” Naomi asked, feeling her pulse race slightly. They really should evacuate, but Venti seemed so calm and in control.

“J-Japanese? Uh, I dunno what you’re talking about! Nope, I’m just a-”

“Duck,” Venti said, pulling Capri and Naomi down.

“I’m not a duck! I’m an oni! Seriously man, keep up with-”

This time, a sedan flew through the wall, horn blaring, and landed on top of the Red Oni.

“Oh, I get it,” Red Oni said, his voice muffled, echoing slightly from under the car. “Duck. You meant like, I should duck.”

“I think I like him!” Venti said brightly. “Now, who’s the one who keeps throwing things and/or people through walls?”

The car shuddered, then was heaved aside as Red Oni stood up, dusting himself off. His mask was cracked and he had a few small cuts and bruises on his body, but he seemed mostly unharmed despite that. For a cape that Naomi had never heard of, he seemed to be rather durable.

“Right, sorry, forgot, I’m sorta in the middle of something. Be back in a minute,” the Red Oni said, turning around. “Oh. Shit.”

A tall figure floated into the shop, and made Naomi’s blood positively boil as beside her Capri let out a snarl. Both of them reached for one at the same time, as fear kindled in both their hearts.

The newcomer was obviously a cape, floating half a meter above the ground. Several objects floated around her, including the Red Oni’s club. She was dressed in the uniform of a World War II Luftwaffe officer, though her shoes had six inch heels on them in a fit of impracticality. Not that it mattered so much if she floated everywhere. Her, Naomi recognized. Stuka, a cape with some form of telekinesis who had been active in Munich for nearly a year.

“Well, untermensch, you were amusing for a short time, but I grow weary of this. I think I shall end this,” the floating woman said. A long metal pole that still had a handicapped parking sign on it oriented itself toward the Red Oni, causing him to fall into a fighting stance.

“Question!” Venti said, raising his hand. “Are you a nazi?”

“You know dude, duddette? Eh whatever. We haven’t known each other very long, but asking me that really hurts,” the Red Oni said, hand over his heart. “How could you- Oh wait, you mean her, right?”

Stuka looked at Venti, her expression turning into a sneer. “Do you not recognize me, fool? Yes, I am a member of the master race, here to purge the Fatherland of-”

A massive bow appeared in Venti’s hands and a green arrow made of pure wind roared at Stuka, catching her in a whirling mini tornado.

“Oh good! I figured I should ask before I shot you. Didn’t want to make any mistakes,” Venti said cheerfully.

“Oh shit!” Capri gasped, and she and Naomi both dove for the floor.

“Hey, nice one, uh, man. Ma’am? Whatever, good job!” Red Oni said, giving Venti a thumbs up.

Venti, however, was crouched down by Capri and Naomi. “What? Do you know something?”

“Stuka’s pretty well known. She’s not dangerous unless you try to hurt her!” Naomi hissed. “Her powers won’t activate unless-”

The handicap sign rocketed through where Venti’s head had been a moment before, impaling itself in the wall behind them.

“-unless you hit her,” Capri finished. “But it looks like some idiot already picked a fight with her and tried to hurt her.”

“Hey! Who are you callin’ an idiot?!” the Red Oni demanded. “She’s a bad guy! You know, in the SS get up and stuff? That’s totally evil!”

“Fool,” Stuka laughed, her voice distorted by the winds still whipping around her. “This isn’t an SS uniform, it’s the Luftwaffe formal officer’s uniform, circa 1941!”

“Oh. Uh, it’s just an air force uniform?” Red Oni asked, clearly confused.

“It’s a nazi uniform, just a different stripe!” Capri snarled at Red Oni. She grabbed Venti, and pulled him close to hiss into his ear. “Look, I know you're super powerful and stuff, but maybe this is one fight we should skip! That moron has supercharged Stuka!”

The wind died down, revealing a Stuka who was now hovering even higher in the air, a mad grin on her face. “Well, thank you for the little power-up, but now I-”

“GERONIMO!” Red Oni roared and tackled Stuka right back into the street.

“...that’s going to go very badly for him,” Naomi said, wincing. The big cape seemed to have his heart in the right place, but clearly, brains were not his strong point.

Indeed, cries of pain and distress were coming from the outdoors, along with for some reason, the yowl of an irritated cat.

“Well, I can’t just leave such a brave soul to his demise! Don’t worry, this won’t take long!”

“But if you attack her, she’ll just get stronger!” Capri protested, scrambling after Venti.

Despite her instincts screaming that this was a Bad Idea, Naomi followed, trying not to step on all the broken glass that littered the shop and failing, though none of it bit through her sneakers. When she caught up with Capri, they both watched as Stuka was hovering over the Red Oni, who was pressed into the concrete of the sidewalk. The streets were deserted now, though sirens could be heard in the distance.

“Fool. You think you can stop the harbinger of the Fourth Reich?” the Red Oni’s mask snapped, revealing a blond-haired, blue-eyed face that was nearly perfect, with a strong jaw and handsome features. “You should be one of us, not fighting against members of your own race.”

“Hey, The Red Oni is a member of the HUMAN race, and I’m a good guy, thank you very much!” he grunted, flexing his muscles, though the force that was keeping him down prevented him from lifting them very far. “Besides, what if I told you I was Jewish or something?”

“Then I would be forced toooooooOOOOOOOoooooo-”

Stuka was suddenly launched into the air by a gust of wind, flying off high into the sky as a perplexed Red Oni watched. He flexed his admittedly impressive biceps, looking confused. “Did I do that? I must have done that. Ha ha! Good prevails!”

“Very impressive showing,” Venti said, clapping slowly as he walked over to kneel by the cape still stuck in the concrete. “But I have to wonder, maybe you’re going about this wrong?”

“What? I mean, she’s a Nazi!  How can you not punch Nazis! That’s what my granny taught me, and Granny Oni ain’t no fool!” the Red Oni said, grunting as he pried himself out.

“A laudable goal I’m sure, but since her abilities seem to revolve around some sort of energy storage and reversal, perhaps direct conflict isn’t the right way to go about this?” Venti suggested.

“Ah, no no no no no, you’re trying to trick me!” the Red Oni said, standing up. He assumed a wide stance, rolling his neck muscles and stomping, which caused the ground to shake and the pavement to crack further from the force. “And Granny Oni didn’t raise no fool! It’s like what Raiden would do! If you see a problem, you punch it! And if you get knocked back down, you get back up, and keep on fighting! My superior abilities have once again saved the day! Or, uh, for the first time. Since, you know, this is my first time doing the whole ‘hero’ thing.”

“Sorry just a second,” Venti said, as Stuka’s scream slowly became audible again. Naomi had to admit, it did sound a bit like the infamous horn on the old dive bomber. However, before Stuka hit the ground, another gust of air sent her rocketing back up into the dark night sky. “There we go! Where was I? Yes, you do seem the heroic sort, however, there seems to have been a bit of destruction in your little fight. Don’t you think the authorities might have some problems with that?”

“Eh, capes get into fights, it’s what we do! I’m sure it’ll be fine. Besides, that’s why I wear my mask, so they can’t identify me!” the Red Oni said, grinning broadly at Venti.

Capri let out a groan and put her head in her hands, while Naomi stepped forward. “Ah, Mr. Oni? Your mask, ah…”

“Pretty cool, right?! I got it imported and everything!” he beamed at her, clearly unaware of the fact that his broken mask was lying in pieces behind him.

Naomi raised her hand and touched her nose, then rubbed it. “You, ah…”

“What? Do I have something on my face?” Red Oni said, touching his own nose and rubbing it. “I…oh. Oooooooh. Huh. Well…um, I just remembered somewhere I have to be before the cops arrive. We, uh, we’ve had some…disagreements? Anyway, they know me from before so, uh…later!”

Venti reached out and caught the Red Oni’s arm before he could run off. “Just a moment. We’re holding a performance at the Feisty Ferret soon, and looking for individuals who would like to put a stop to the nonsense Miss Stuka and her friends have been spreading. Why don’t you join us on Wednesday night to talk?”

“A band? Yeah, that sounds chill! I, uh, I was sort of lying about being with the Meisters before. You seem like a chill dude, pretty cool, pretty cool. If you’re capes, we should totally join up! I’ll be there; you can count on it!”

“It’s a date,” Venti said happily, waving farewell. The Red Oni leapt up into the air, landing on the roof of a building. Then sliding down the other side and landing with a loud crash, and another yowl from a cat.

“It’s cool! I’m OK! Damn, gotta work on the landings…”

Venti chuckled and shook his head, then held out a hand as another scream echoed through the night. Stuka landed on a cushion of air that slowed her fall, preventing serious injury. She was pale and out of breath, looking rather frightened.

“I…hmph! Well, you cannot hope to stop me now! You are an enemy of the Reich, and-”

“Party at the Feisty Ferret! Wednesday Night! Be there, or be square!” Venti said, slapping a flier into her hands. Naomi blinked. When had they gotten fliers?

“What!? Why would I go to that filthy den of perversion and…”

Stuka’s lips continued to move, but no words came out. She started to turn red, floating up into the air, only to stagger back down. She shook her fist, pounding it on Venti’s chest, but no sound came from her.

“I’ve seen abilities like yours before,” Venti mused, plucking a few cords on his harp. “Very dangerous if you continue to hit someone. Regina, the Goddess of Revenge, could devastate armies with her powers, after she’d absorbed enough punishment. But, well, funny thing about revenge…”

Stuka slumped to the ground, her lips turning blue. Her chest was heaving, but no air seemed to be going into her lungs. Then, she lay down, and passed out. Naomi wondered if the villain was dead.

“If you break the cycle, there’s no more revenge to be had!” Venti knelt, putting a hand over Stuka’s lips. “Well, she’s still breathing. Now, let us be off before the guards, no, police? Yes, police arrive!”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Naomi agreed, but Venti dashed back into the store, and she and Capri followed.

“There’s a bit of a hold-up, somehow all the street signs blew the wrong way,” Venti commented, picking up the clothes he’d dropped earlier. He tossed a few marks toward the register, and they landed neatly atop it. “That covers our bill I think! And now, away with the wind! The night is yet young!”

“You’re crazy,” Capri laughed, but she followed Venti out the back.

Naomi giggled as well, following after. But she had to wonder:

If there were going to be cape fights like these, what good was she even going to be?

Kenichi sat on the cold stone floor of the courtyard under the crackling blossoms of the Thunder Sakura tree. He sipped at his morning tea, feeling at peace with the world. He was dressed in the full jōe robes of a Shinto Priest, though his black cap sat on the ground beside him. His breakfast this morning was simple rice with a few small fish, as it was most days. He did occasionally have eggs instead of fish, or even some natto, but he kept his diet simple.

His life now was very different than it had been before he had met the Goddess Raiden. He was no longer an engineer and salary man, but instead, head of the Yashiro Commission. In his role, he was essentially the High Priest of Japan, second only to the Emperor in ensuring the observation and continuation of the Reformed Shinto religion. He lived a mostly austere life, but he wielded great power, overseeing everything from Education and Welfare to, what he considered his primary duty, ensuring devotion to the Great Narukami Oshogo and Goddess of Japan, Raiden Shogun.

There was a rustle beside him, and a woman in miko’s robes approached. She was one of his chief aides, as well as attending to her duties here at the Ise Grand Shrine, headquarters of the Yashiro Commission.

“A message from her Excellency, Lord Yoshida.” She held out an envelope, which Kenichi took immediately, setting down his cup and forgetting about his breakfast.

The note was short, simple, and to the point, as most of Raiden’s directives were.

This morning, a new Vision Holder appeared in Osaka. Unlike the electro visions or parasitic ones, this was green, with the symbol of anemo. A new Anemo Archon has appeared. I know not if it is the one I know, or a new one. But we must find them immediately. Seek them out with all due haste. They will not be found in Japan. Find a land of winds and open skies. There too, shall the Anemo Archon be found.

-Raiden

Kenichi’s nostrils flared. A new god? Who dared to attempt to usurp Raiden’s authority? Perhaps they were not in Japan, but Raiden was the one true god of this world, sent to Japan to guide her people with divine wisdom and Radiance.

“Send for the Evening Star,” Kenichi ordered his aide.

Her eyes widened at the command, but she bowed, and hastened off. Kenichi made himself finish his breakfast, even as his stomach churned in fear and frustration. But he knew what he had to do.

Not long after, the shadows formed into a shape at his side, and a moment later, Kokusho appeared at his side. She was dressed in, well, what would be considered stereotypical ninja garb, complete with a black headwrap and black body suit, and of course two swords at her side.

“You sent for me, my Lord?”

“I have need of the Shuumatsuban,” Kenchi said, closing his eyes. “This will be a mission of utmost importance. I shall dispatch you, and our most skilled agents abroad. There is a threat to the Shogunate. One that must be addressed immediately.”

“I live to serve,” Kokusho said, bowing her head to the ground. “What are your orders?”

Kenichi laid out his plans, and Kokusho listened intently. When he was done, she rose and bowed, her fists pressed together. “I will leave at once, and dispatch my most skillful ninjas. We will find this Anemo Archon, and deal with them.”

And then in a blur of black wind, Kokusho was gone again. Kenichi suppressed a sigh. The theater was all well and good, but did Kokusho really have to lean so hard into the whole ninja thing? Maybe she did: Raiden had seemed to believe that the Shuumatsuban wouldn’t be complete without training in ninjutsu and the costumes to go with it. By the remarks that Kokusho and the other ninjas had made, Raiden was extremely skilled at teaching new arts of infiltration, espionage, and hidden combat.

Ah well. If anyone had a license to be melodramatic, it was a god.

And this upstart would be dealt with. One way, or another.

Author’s Note:

I noticed a depressing lack of Himbo Energy in this story so far.

The mistake has been corrected.