Durin

After one particular Windblume Festival, a new face appeared in Mondstadt — a young boy with horns upon his head and wings growing from his back. Master Jean told the people that this boy had once been a dragon. Through wondrous alchemy, he had gained a human form and now sought to learn how to live among them. A dragon turning into a human wasn't exactly shocking news. After all, countless fairy tales had sprouted from Mondstadt’s soil. What truly stirred the people's curiosity was the boy's name: Durin. Whenever that name was spoken aloud, people would instinctively look toward Dragonspine. Beneath its blinding snows lay the colossal bones of a creature long gone, and with them, memories of a calamity best left buried. For most citizens of Mondstadt, that name carried not wonder, but unease. Still, with Jean and the Knights of Favonius vouching for him, Durin was welcomed into the city all the same. People began to see him everywhere in the city, and they soon discovered that in truth, Durin was the more timid one in every encounter. He was curious about everyone, yet preferred to watch from afar, uncertain and hesitant to draw near. Whatever dread his name once evoked, the boy before them had no share in it. Little by little, the people of Mondstadt grew used to Durin's presence. Their wary glances softened, and daily life returned to its peaceful rhythm. In time, when they spoke his name again, many no longer looked toward the white peaks. Instead, they thought of a gentle boy — one who blushed as he asked Flora in front of Floral Whisper which flowers might best suit a friend, or who stood outside Good Hunter, embarrassed yet earnest as he asked how not to burn the meat. Bit by bit, those gentle scenes washed away the memory of that old disaster. The name "Durin," once spoken of in fear, no longer made anyone flinch. It felt, in a way, like rewriting the ending of a sorrowful tale, right from its very beginning.