A group of bards played a lively tune in the background, the music weaving through the air as Riven sat quietly inside a corner booth of Good Hunter, legs crossed, eyes closed, and dressed in plain clothes, a crisp white shirt and black pants, far more subtle than his usual attire.
He was drawing a few too many stares both from women and men alike thanks to his striking features.
And Clipped to his hip was a faux Cryo Vision, gifted to him by none other than Acting Grand Master Jean herself.
The reason?
"To avoid drawing unnecessary attention," Jean had told him. "After the Stormterror incident, the Fatui started poking around. They're suspicious of the unusual Cryo phenomenon… and they suspect you."
Honestly, he didn't mind the attention too much—until Diluc stormed in, demanding answers. Riven wasn't exactly in the mood for another round of interrogation.
Probably trying to piece together what happened to his father. I'll cut the kid some slack for the way he spoke—grief makes people sharp.
So, the fake Vision on his hip?
Yeah. A small lie to avoid a much bigger headache.
As for the group known as the Fatui, he had spotted a few of them nearby, casting him suspicious glances at first. Thankfully, their interest faded just as quickly. A relief, for now.
Riven slowly opened his eyes, tapping his fingers against the wooden table. And then there was Klee
his daughter.
Chaotic as she was, she made him feel something warm inside. It was hard to explain… like his body had been longing for happiness without even realizing it.
She was the reason he pushed himself harder.
While the others dealt with the Stormterror situation, he took on commissions—earning Mora, staying busy, doing whatever it took to become someone she could rely on.
Someone worthy of being called her father.
And of course, there was Mona…
The way her face exploded when she found out he hooked up with Alice, of all people, in some forgotten corner of his past… priceless.
He sighed, swirling the drink in his hand before glancing out at the plaza. The people of Mondstadt moved about.
Among the crowd, he spotted a blonde boy running around with… a flying companion?
"The Traveler," he muttered under his breath, watching them go. Everyone in Mondstadt had heard the name. A mysterious outsider helping the Knights with the dragon crisis. From what he'd gathered, the kid had a good heart.
Riven downed the last of his drink and placed a few Mora on the table.
"Here you go, Sara," he said.
"Thank you, Riven," she replied with a warm smile, her posture just a little too inviting as she leaned forward slightly, hands brushing against her apron. "Thanks for supporting the business."
He gave her a nod, but didn't take the bait. Not today.
Not until he had his memories back.
Alice had told him they weren't a thing. So, technically… he was a free man.
But knowing his luck?
Some woman from his past would come flying in, guns blazing.
Yeah best to keep it in his pants… for now.
Riven chuckled under his breath and sighed, wandering once more through the bustling streets of Mondstadt. His plans were simple: head to the next nation, maybe Liyue soon. But for now, he had time to kill.
He moved through the city with ease, blending into the crowd. Merchants called out their prices, children's laughter echoed through the streets, and the warm scent of freshly baked bread drifted from the stalls. Despite the chaos of the recent Stormterror attacks, life in Mondstadt carried on.
Riven paused at one of the stands, his eyes drifting over a collection of jewelry laid out on velvet cloth. Among them, a blue gem caught his attention, its hue strikingly familiar.
He leaned in slightly.
"Excuse me, miss. This gem… where does it come from?"
The vendor smiled. "Ah, that one? It's from Fontaine, the Nation of Justice."
"Fontaine, huh?" he murmured, glancing back at the gem. "It's the same blue."
With a nod of thanks, he stepped away from the stall, the thought lingering in his mind as he continued on through the bustling streets.
Riven eventually found himself standing on Mondstadt's main bridge, gazing down at the flowing water below. The wind gently tousled his hair.
Had it really only been a few months since he woke up?
The timeline of his disappearance was still unclear. No one in Mondstadt recognized him, not the knights, not the merchants, not even the adventurers who prided themselves on remembering faces. Which raised the question: Had he never been here before? Or had he simply been here in a different time?
That brought his thoughts to Klee. Just how old was she? He'd chosen not to question it too deeply at least not yet. When the time came, he'd speak to Alice directly.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, movement.
He stopped.
At the far end of the bridge stood a tall figure cloaked in black and blue. A half-mask covered part of his face, leaving one sharp eye exposed.
His dark coat moved slightly with the wind, and a worn pauldron rested on one shoulder. He stood still, gaze locked on Riven, silent and unreadable.
"Do I know you?" the man asked, folding his arms. His voice was calm, but his gaze was anything but it pierced straight through Riven, studying him with unnerving focus.
Before Riven could respond, another voice called out behind him.
"Riven!"
It was Kaeya.
Riven turned instinctively.
Just for a moment.
But when he looked back the stranger was gone.
He stared for a second, then shook his head and muttered, "Who was that guy…?"
…
From the shadows, Dainsleif watched in silence, catching fragments of their conversation. The Knights were preparing to help Dvalin.
His gaze sharpened.
Why… is he here?
His grip tightened around the hilt of his sword, knuckles pale with restrained fury.
Astaroth.
The name echoed in his mind like a curse.
He could never forget that face of the one who laid waste to his homeland, who bathed half of Khaenri'ah in blood. Rage welled in his chest, old and bitter. His hand inched toward his blade, ready to drive it through the monster before him.
But something gave him pause.
That aura… it wasn't the same. It lacked the overwhelming malice he remembered. It felt fractured, subdued, even lost.
Then, a child ran up to him.
Dainsleif's breath caught.
The impossible unfolded before his eyes Astaroth smiled, kneeling to embrace the child. Emotion flickered across his face. Genuine, human emotion.
No… Dainsleif stepped back, uncertainty seeping into his thoughts.
Had he been wrong?
He stared for a moment longer, the blade still in hand… then vanished into the crowd.
"I need to investigate," he murmured to himself, his voice low and cold. "If he truly is the same being… or something else entirely."
…