Decades slipped past like pages in a book left open to the wind.

  Boreas and Elowen grew into adulthood—tall, strong, radiant. Boreas’s blond hair fell long and wild; his azure eyes now held the calm depth of someone who had seen countless futures and chosen hope every time. Elowen’s silver-blonde locks shimmered like starlight; her presence carried gentle breezes that soothed even the most restless hearts. They had mastered their gifts under the Traveler’s patient guidance—years of journeys across Teyvat, lessons in ley-line attunement, battles alongside allies old and new. Prophecy and wind bent to their will, no longer wild forces but extensions of their unbreakable spirits.

  Yet something remained unchanged.

  They did not age anymore.

  Not a single line touched their faces. Not a strand of hair silvered. Time flowed around them like water around stone, leaving them eternally young while the world moved on.

  Varka, however, bore the gentle marks of mortality. His golden hair had threads of silver at the temples; faint scars deepened with time; his laugh, though still booming, carried the quiet weight of years. He remained the Mighty Wolf of Mondstadt—strong, steadfast—but the years had begun to etch themselves into his body.

  One evening, as summer faded into autumn, Boreas and Elowen sat together on the cliffs overlooking Starsnatch Cliff. The wind carried the distant sound of Venti’s lyre from the city below.

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  “He’s getting older,” Boreas said quietly.

  Elowen nodded, hugging her knees. “Mother will never age. She’s half-celestial. But Father… he’s mortal. One day he’ll leave us. And we’ll still be here.”

  They looked at each other—mirror images of worry and determination.

  “We can’t accept that,” Boreas said. “Not after everything.”

  Elowen’s voice was soft but resolute. “There are legends. Places where time bends. Artifacts that grant eternal life. The Traveler once spoke of Irminsul’s deeper roots, of forbidden knowledge in the Abyss, of ancient mechanisms in Khaenri’ah’s ruins that could rewrite mortality itself. If there’s even a chance…”

  Boreas reached for her hand. “We find it. For him. For us.”

  They swore then—quietly, fiercely—that they would set out in secret. No goodbyes that might worry their parents. No explanations that could be refused. They would search Teyvat—and beyond its borders if necessary—for the means to grant Varka immortality. To keep their family whole forever.

  Unbeknownst to them, Varka and Nicole sat together that same evening on the manor balcony, watching the same sunset paint the sky in rose and gold.

  Varka’s arm rested around Nicole’s shoulders. He pressed a kiss to her temple.

  “They’ve grown so much,” he said softly. “Stronger than I ever was at their age.”

  Nicole leaned into him. “They’re ready for whatever comes next. Just like we were.”

  Varka chuckled. “I suppose we should prepare ourselves for empty nests soon.”

  She smiled, but there was a quiet ache behind it. “Or perhaps… they’ll surprise us.”

  Below them, the twins slipped away into the twilight—packs light, hearts heavy with purpose.

  The road ahead was uncertain, shadowed by dangers they had only glimpsed in visions. But they walked it together.

  For love.

  For family.

  For a father who had given them everything—and whom they refused to let time take away.

  In Mondstadt, the winds continued to blow free.

  And somewhere beyond the horizon, two ageless children began their greatest quest yet.