Chapter Text
Cracking. Albedo was cracking. It wasn’t just a trick of the light; fissures like spiderwebs spread out from the four-pointed star at his neck until they stopped at his cheeks.
“You’ve overworked yourself again,” Kaeya said from across the room, with all the uncaring concern (or lack thereof) of a stranger. “You said you wouldn’t do that.”
Albedo spun around in his chair to glare at him. “Sir Kaeya, you told me you wouldn’t be visiting the tavern on your eighteenth birthday. Yet you did anyway.”
Kaeya laughed, striding across the room and draping himself across the sofa Albedo had placed there by his request. “Come now, Albedo, why so cold? I believe you invited me here to spend some time with me, correct?”
“Yes, that is right. But I informed Master Jean that I would finish this research by tomorrow.”
Oh, another thing,” Kaeya mused. “Why exactly do you have… at least three books on Khaenri’ahn alchemy? You don’t seem like the type to be open about your lineage.”
Albedo threw down his pen, muttering something about his lack of knowledge on Khemia. He brushed a hand against one of the leather-bound tomes. The alchemist heaved it out with a sideways glance at the closed door, edging along his desk and dropping himself down next to the quartermaster of the Ordo. He flicked through it, without a second thought concerning the runic text.
“‘Using alchemy to create life forms is unheard of for the rest of Teyvat, and very few people have mastered the art.’ So then, my dear Mr. Calx, perhaps you can indulge me.”
“Kaeya Alberich,” Albedo said in a tone laced with poison. “Do you intend on giving me a heart attack one of these days?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
The letters Kaeya had left abandoned on Albedo's desk this morning had come back to haunt him. In his haste, he'd forgotten their importance, and leaving them where anyone could read them? That just wouldn't do.
He slumped into the alchemist's chair - he was up near Dragonspine (today of all days!) and wouldn't return for at least a week, judging by his schedule - and tore open the first. The ink had faded somewhat, the pages rumpled by age and neglect, but still he knew that sloping hand.
Dearest Kar’ah, it read, Happy birthday, for one thing, and for now, Merry Christmas. It’s only been an hour or so since you two went to bed on Adelinde’s urgent request, although I don’t know when you’ll receive this. Hopefully on your eighteenth, as I planned.
If not, at least you’ll have something to remember me by. I’m telling you this now as it would destroy Diluc if he ever knew. I highly doubt I will see either of you past adulthood, for reasons I’d prefer not to disclose. You’ll learn one day, you’re a very intuitive child. As for what I know about your background, I want you to know I will accept you no matter what or who you are. Inside is a collection of sketches, starting from earlier today, yours to keep for as long as possible. And yes, that includes the embarrassing ones.
It was not finished, the elegant scrawl tapering off as his father, presumably, fell asleep. Kaeya could imagine that. He set Crepus' letter aside, the further contents too precious to be seen by anyone but him. The second letter, however, was what bothered him. Diluc had never inherited his father's patience, nor his careful hand, his handwriting an unmistakeable scruffy cursive Kaeya recognised in an instant.
He almost could not bring himself to open it. Almost could not stand the barrage of insults he was sure he'd received. The dread was quick to claw its way into his chest, even as he ripped open the envelope with hands trembling more than he liked to admit.
I felt as if an apology was in order, although I do not expect you to forgive me nor accept it.
I am deeply sorry for my rashness on that night and have regretted it ever since I heard you leave the manor. Therefore, I have sent over a collection of Father’s old artworks, and I hope that they are to the standard he hoped they would be.
As for me, I will be residing at the Winery for the time being, and if you require anything, Adelinde says she will be glad to be of service.
Happy birthday, Kar’ah Kaeya
P.S. Adelinde told me that you are going by a different name, so I apologise in advance for the error. I had no clue.
Diluc
That old name stung a little, but Kaeya put the feeling aside. Diluc was back in Mondstadt, then? How long had it been? Three years? Four? He wasn't sure.
Archons, he needed a drink.