Star Rail: Starting with a Lyre, Living off Busking

It was a dream.

A voice murmured softly in the dream.

The flower carriage rocks gently, and Nahida opens her eyes. She says she just had a dream—a dream where her birthday is today.In the dream, the Flower Knight and her attendants found her.

'Ah, at last, we've found you, O Goddess. Everyone has been waiting to meet you.'

Nahida jolted awake.

"—Wait a moment. I'm not dreaming, am I? And why… am I here?"

She needed to remind herself: though she still wore Nahida's childlike appearance, her true identity was Venti, not the real Nahida.

That haunting nursery rhyme—though it fit the current scene almost too perfectly—had reached him only because the wind carried the sorrowful melodies of a young girl to his ears.

No matter how poignant the words, she couldn't resign herself to becoming a gilded bird trapped in a cage, unable to spread her wings.

This is only the first stop on our Trailblazing journey!

---

"Your Highness, didn't Her Majesty mention the celebratory procession today?"

Cernia, the forestfolk general driving the flower carriage toward the garden's central fountain, smiled and waved to the crowds gathered along the path as she answered Nahida's rhetorical question.

"Absolutely not," Nahida replied flatly, her small face scrunching into a pout.

"Besides, we agreed last night to just have dinner. Then it nearly turned into a bath, and after that, she wanted to share a bed! I mean, with all due respect, isn't your queen being just a bit too... forward?"

Cernia chuckled softly. "That's just Her Majesty's way. Though she's lived far longer than we have, she's rarely left the Golden Forest, and even fewer have truly reached her heart."

Her tone grew wistful as she explained further.

"While she understands the idea of other ways of life, Her Majesty grew up here, raised as the elven queen. She inherited the duty of guarding the forestfolk and the World Tree, which shaped her existence."

This life, both complex and austere, was marked by her elevated status—a barrier that kept others from connecting deeply with her.

Now, as the twilight of her reign approached, she had found her successor. For the first time, she could release her long-restrained nature, and this freedom was something she only allowed herself around Nahida.

"I still don't like this kind of life," Nahida muttered.

Her objection wasn't about criticizing another's lifestyle but stemmed from her own preferences. Much like a cat's affection toward Venti, it wasn't that she disliked the creature—it was just that the fur made her sneeze uncontrollably.

The responsibilities of royalty and the mission to protect the World Tree were burdens Nahida neither sought nor felt obliged to bear.

She could easily leave at any time, but running away would feel cowardly in the face of the queen's well-meaning overtures.

"I understand your hesitation," Cernia replied. "You weren't born in the Sea of Trees, and you've spent your life concealing your identity and wandering freely. It's natural to dislike the idea of being bound by responsibilities."

Cernia had heard whispers of how Nahida once traveled the world disguised as "Venti." While it delayed the forestfolk's reunion with their princess, it was an undeniably wise decision.

When one is young and vulnerable, hiding one's true identity is prudent—especially with a lineage as noble as hers. Evil forces, driven by greed or malice, would have undoubtedly sought to exploit her or eliminate her as a threat.

"Still," Cernia continued, gesturing toward the cheering crowds throwing flowers along the path, "could you spare a moment to look at your people? They've waited so long, Your Highness."

Children on tiptoe eagerly waved their small arms, hoping to catch her eye. The petals they scattered filled the air with a fragrant celebration.

The forestfolk had waited thousands of years—an unfathomable span for any mortal. Though their long lifespans allowed them to endure time more easily, even they eventually grew restless.

For the forestfolk, death was not something to be feared but rather a return to the natural cycle, a reunion with the Mother Forest. Many forestfolk considered living too long contrary to their identity, as they were children of nature.

As time passed, they embraced the idea of eventual rest. Their lives, though incredibly long, were not endless. And those who lived too long without purpose risked losing themselves—either growing emotionally numb or becoming increasingly stubborn and set in their ways.

This was why the arrival of Nahida, the heir of the Elven Queen, was met with such fervent adoration.

To them, she wasn't merely a successor but a living embodiment of their hopes, a spark of renewal for their race.

"You're all so good at giving me impossible challenges," Nahida sighed.

"Challenges lead to growth," Cernia replied with a knowing smile. "Perhaps if you embrace these trials, Your Highness, you'll find yourself graced by divine favor once more."

"...What?"

When Nahida processed the meaning of her earlier words, Cernia merely smiled warmly.

"Trust me. This responsibility isn't a shackle—it's something far more romantic."

"Romantic?"

The young elven princess couldn't discern any aspect of romance in the situation.

"Heh. Once you officially receive the crown from Her Majesty, I'm sure you'll understand what I mean."

With that enigmatic remark, Cernia ceased her explanation and guided the flower carriage toward the palace, where an even grander ceremony awaited Nahida.

---

The subsequent hours were a whirlwind of ceremonies, intricate customs, and endless greetings that Nahida only half-understood. Whenever she considered slipping away to vent to her companions, she found them wholly absorbed in the spectacle.

March 7, in particular, made no secret of her excitement, proudly telling everyone she was "best friends with the princess." Stelle mirrored March's enthusiasm, standing tall and basking in the attention, as if they shared a unified sense of pride.

Dan Heng, meanwhile, had taken on the role of a silent pack mule, carrying the various gifts offered to March and Stelle. The forestfolk, enamored by their association with Nahida, lavished them with peculiar trinkets, endless food, and rare drinks that even made Nahida envious.

Despite the urge to indulge, Nahida remained conscious of her image. As carefree and playful as Venti had been in private, he had always presented himself with grace and composure when his people needed him.

Now, she found herself wanting to embody that same respectability—not just as a whim but as something genuine.

A god must love their people, after all.

This unshakable truth, inherited from her memories of Barbatos, weighed heavily on her, even if her playful nature occasionally surfaced.

---

The flower carriage eventually reached the palace's inner hall. Throughout the ride, Nahida had done little more than serve as a living symbol of good fortune. Tossing candies handed to her by Cernia, she barely broke a sweat as the forestfolk celebrated her as if she were a cherished goddess.

This fervent devotion made her feel more like an oddity—perhaps the last human in a twisted Lovecraftian world, hailed as the "pure-blooded one" among eldritch worshippers.

If she'd called herself a "holy child," no one would have batted an eye.

If such a world exists, it must be a nightmare.

Lost in thought, Nahida was abruptly brought back by a soft poke to her forehead.

"You're spacing out again," came a teasing voice.

The culprit? None other than Her Majesty, the Elven Queen herself—the same woman who nearly "smothered" Nahida the day before.

This time, the queen openly doted on her, ignoring the gazes of the gathered dignitaries. The council elders, far from disapproving, instead appeared misty-eyed, as if witnessing the nation's bright future in this mother-daughter scene.

"Are you absolutely sure about this?" Nahida asked hesitantly.

Though she had toyed with the idea of fulfilling her role as queen and indulging her whimsical dreams of building a grand palace of knowledge, she realized upon touring the kingdom that such aspirations had long been surpassed by her predecessors.

What else could I possibly add to this?

Her Majesty responded with a serene smile. "There's no doubt. The Tree has chosen you—you are the next queen."

Her calm demeanor belied the gravity of her words. Even now, knowing that relinquishing her power would accelerate her aging and lead to her eventual departure, she remained unshaken.

When Nahida tried one last time to persuade her otherwise, the queen silenced her with a gentle finger pressed to her lips.

Her eyes, pure and untainted, held a maternal warmth that gave Nahida the peculiar sensation of being treated as both a child and an equal.

"I won't be here much longer," the queen whispered, bending slightly as if speaking to a beloved child—or perhaps a hero. "But this is not the end of the journey—"

She leaned closer, her voice almost imperceptible, as if entrusting Nahida with a secret only she could bear.

"May the wind carry away sorrow and bring the children of the forest back home one day."

Nahida's breath hitched. "You… know about me?"

"I've seen much," the queen replied with an enigmatic smile. "But don't worry. I love you just as the people do."

Taking Nahida's hand, the queen guided her step by step toward the throne—a structure formed by the intertwined roots of the Golden Tree.

With each step, her words resonated:

"I will not clip your wings. You are still young, and you've only glimpsed the skies beyond the forest. You think the canopy is a barrier, but it is not."

As the queen spoke, the branches entwining the throne unraveled, revealing its true form.

A faded, timeworn wheelchair.

The wind whispered stories. The passing of time allowed them to take root.

When Nahida reached out to the golden leaves resting on the seat, fragments of the past flowed into her mind.

Once, someone had sat here. But in the end, they left the throne, soaring into the sky like a bird freed from its cage.

"The Tree is a nest. The Tree is a home. The Tree is a beginning."

As Nahida touched the ancient wheelchair, a series of pure, earnest sentiments washed over her.

"...Did I underestimate you?" she murmured.

"Go ahead," the queen encouraged, her gaze soft with expectation. "Don't worry about breaking it. Think of it as a bird returning to its nest."

Heeding her words, Nahida carefully sat upon the ancient throne.

The seat wasn't particularly comfortable, but it carried a sense of profound nostalgia.

In that moment, the radiance of the Golden Tree enveloped her, as though crowning her with its blessing.

Thunderous applause erupted from the gathered crowd as the light bathed the hall. For a fleeting moment, the world felt impossibly small, as if it had shrunk to just the space between her and the throne.

Nahida glanced at the queen, whose expression radiated quiet satisfaction, then at her companions, who cheered for her with unrestrained joy. Finally, her gaze settled on the countless forestfolk showering her with blessings.

Maybe this isn't so bad, Nahida thought.

But as soon as the thought crossed her mind, she noticed something strange.

It was subtle—imperceptibly small—but she felt the flow of time shift.

A millisecond seemed to vanish, like a second edited out of reality's reel.

She instinctively looked at the queen, whose serene demeanor remained unchanged. The queen blinked slowly, as though to assure her, and mouthed silently:

Say something.

The dissonance was overwhelming.

Ever since the day began, Nahida had felt as though time was moving faster. It was as if an unseen force kept advancing the clock's hands, outpacing her ability to follow.

---

The coffee machine beeped, signaling that the brew was ready.

Himeko, lost in thought, reached for her cup but hesitated, glancing at the steam rising from the drink.

"Something wrong?" Welt asked, looking up from his book.

"No… it's probably nothing. I've just been a little anxious about the kids. Maybe I'm overthinking," Himeko replied, brushing off her unease.

Welt closed his book with a soft thud and offered her a reassuring smile. "If you're that worried, why not check on them? March would surely be happy to see you."

"She is the type who can't be left to her own devices," Himeko admitted with a small laugh, lifting the cup to her lips.

But as she took a sip, her brows furrowed.

The coffee was cooling far too quickly.

"Pom-Pom," she called out. "Did you adjust the air conditioning?"

"Nope!" Pom-Pom chirped, waddling over. "The train's temperature is always set to optimal comfort!"

Himeko frowned, staring at the half-empty cup.

She could've sworn she'd only taken one sip. Yet somehow, her coffee had diminished further—and she had no recollection of drinking it.

"...Strange," she muttered, her unease growing.

---

Thank you for reading this chapter!

Wise-Senpai leads the way, sharing stories that inspire and connect us all. Your support is like the encouragement of a loyal companion, pushing this journey forward and lighting the path ahead.

If you'd like to support Wise-Senpai, you can visit:

[patreon.com/WiseTL].

Every contribution strengthens our resolve, paving the way for the stories yet to come!

Let's continue to explore these worlds together!

-Mash Kyrielight 💜