Note: Mikado is a variation of a game that, when brought to the United States, was renamed Pick-up Sticks.

 

Kaeya and Rosaria sit on the floor. Around them the other patrons have gathered at a safe distance. They have been briefed on the situation. The barricade has been moved away from the door, so that the Riftwolf will be inclined to be moved through that entrance when it shows itself again. 

 

Between them is a long and narrow box. The lid is slipped off and the contents have been emptied. Between them is a pile of sticks. Sticks that are slender and striped with various color patterns. Kaeya starts the game of Mikado, taking one stick that has fallen off to the side. Rosaria gives him the most hollow disappointed look at choosing the easiest option. He flashes her a pristine guiltless look and continues. When his turn ends and he counts his points aloud, he hands the sticks off to her. The wayward nun throws them and starts her turn. 

 

As time passes the tavern occupants watch with bated breaths. Venti sits at the bar, lyre in hand and poised to play. Diluc and Dainsleif are off to the side near the door, tensed to move at the slightest inclination that the need arises. The air is stiff, almost stiflingly so. However the Cavalry Captain and Sister continue their game. It is the third time when Kaeya reaches for the sticks to pick them up and throw them that something shifts. The winds howling outside fluctuate and a singular torch ignites in the dark room then sputters out. 

 

The subtle lack of light leads to a small shadow, and into that small shadow creeps a small apparition. It materializes from a blur to constructions and features that the living can barely make out. The child is young, and frail. She may be a girl, with hair neatly combed to her shoulders. However her face is so young, it is hard to discern definite characteristics. The child sits between the two on the floor, her small face downturned at the pile of sticks as Kaeya drops them. Fingers past through a stick with red color strips. As the child starts to play, Venti’s Lyre starts to strum. Expert fingers frolic expertly across the strings as his voice drifts from the bar. It is a lullaby, and like how most are, a little haunting while the melody soothes and comforts. 

 

As the ninth measure of the song fills the tavern the child looks up. She points and laughs at the door, then the edges of her form start to blur. They blend with her transparency as she stands and starts to drift back towards the Lyre as if the music is calling to her. A deafening howl resounds horrifically through the storm outside. As the apparition departs and disperses into wisps that Venti catches in his hand, the door is thrown open once again by a large imposing Riftwolf. 

 

The beast growls, its eyes wide, crazed, and viscous. Diluc and Dainsleif make no hesitations. They take one glance at each other then charge the Riftwolf from opposing directions. Diluc’s claymore makes an arc of crimson flames, while the blue of a lost civilization engulfs Dain. The forgotten general reaches the creature half a second faster, and he slashes with a sword at its maw. The Riftwolf is berated by the unforgiving blade of Wolf’s Gravestone, glowing as hot as seething embers.

 

The Riftwolf bears its teeth and the two retreat as it slashes vehemently through the air. A spear of crystalline ice embeds itself in the ground between the Riftwolf and the other patrons of the bar. Rosaria and Kaeya have risen from their places on the floor. Rosaria stands with frost collecting on her skin, protecting the others taking refuge away from the monster. Kaeya dashes from around her. Icicles encircle him as he sends ice, splintering and shattering at the Riftwolf. Rosaria follows after him, flinging her spear into the monster’s shoulder. It howls, and turns invisible. The cryo allogenes step back, waiting for it to reappear.

 

It does, behind them. As they whip around to face it Diluc and Dainsleif rejoin them in a whirl of elemental energy. The four of them dodge and attack as the Riftwolf lashes and disappears and reappears. They attack where they have the best opportunity, and withdraw to avoid taking a hit. The pace is relentless, and the Riftwolf fights with the ferocity of a frenzied galestorm.