Work Text:
The first earthquake hits when the traveler has just left for Liyue. It’s a minor concern since the quake was mild but Kaeya knows differently. He knows that this is the start of something much bigger than even the Stormterror’s rampages.
He thought he had more time. A promise had been made for it.
(But he knows how easily promises are broken, even Dainsleif cannot be blamed, for he had surely done all that he can.)
When Kaeya feels the earth tremble beneath his feet, he hears familiar bells tolling. He hears a chorus of an audience swallowing the coliseum. He’s glad that he chose a sturdy ceramic mug of beer rather than a delicate glass of wine, because if he had, it probably would have shattered in his white knuckled grip. His hidden eye throbs in its socket and Kaeya knows that if he looks at it, he will see a that golden star being swallowed by blood.
“Sir Kaeya?” Diluc asks, and something that could have been concern passes through his face.
He can feel his pulse quicken and his skin paling, its usual brightness seeming like a mockery. His heart clenches into itself and Kaeya wants to just ignore it. (He knows he can’t.)
Kaeya manages to summon a weak smile and says hoarsely. “Is that concern I hear, Master Diluc?”
Diluc scoffs and hardens his expression. “If you’re coming down with something, leave.”
And Kaeya does, because he must settle his heart and silence the voices in his head.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Kaeya drinks water and eats proper food. He shakes himself awake and prepares to write the letters that he’s been postponing for three years now.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
“Master Kaeya?” Adelinde seems surprised to see him.
Kaeya winks at her. “Hi Addie, it’s been a while, yes?”
“Please, come in.” Adelinde smiles, a familiar brightness. “Would you like some tea? Master Diluc is currently in Mondstadt dealing with some affairs.”
“I’m not here for him.” Kaeya grins at her secretly. “Do you know where my things were kept? I remembered that I’d left something I needed here a while back.”
Adelinde guides him to the attic of the winery, a small chest with no ornaments was hauled out. “Master Diluc had told us to throw it away, but I didn’t know if he meant it, so I kept what I could.”
Kaeya opens it and sees the small sharp stone engraved with the peacock feather motif.
He takes it.
(It felt cold against his skin.)
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The second earthquake hits worse. The hanging lights in the tavern shook noticeably. Venti, the replacement for Jose today, looks concerned, his brows furrowing. Kaeya catches his eye and pretends that he doesn’t understand.
.
.
.
.
.
.
“Jean, do the earthquakes seems natural to you?” Diluc asks her during one of her visits.
There have been five quakes so far, each getting stronger than the previous. Several buildings were already protesting under the strain. Just recently the animals have started getting spooked easier and there is a general sense of unease around Mondstadt. Diluc had asked one of his informants and said that even Liyue and Sumeru have been experiencing the same thing.
Jean honestly doesn’t know. “It’s getting more frequent recently, and Mondstadt rarely has earthquakes.”
“It’s the World Tree.” Venti interrupts as he bounds to the bar. “It’s being purposely irritated by something. Do you want me to sing it to you?”
.
.
.
.
.
.
The sixth earthquake kills three people and injures seven. Kaeya clenches his hand as the seventh earthquake happens. He’s almost ready, but he doesn’t know if he can do it. He takes a deep breath and enters Angel’s Share for the last time. His chest feels tight, an unnatural tenseness in his jaw.
Kaeya sits in front of the grumpy bartender, red hair incredibly bright even in the poor lighting of the tavern. He drinks the image in, a small smile on his face.
(Because if he was to choose between the world and this precious gem, it isn’t even a choice.)
“Say,” He starts slowly, swirling gape juice in a wine glass— this mild concern from his ex-brother is something that he loves even if he always complains. “If there was something that only you could do, and not doing it would have consequences, would you do it?”
Diluc pauses and hesitates at the uncharacteristic softness. “I would. Why wouldn’t I?”
Kaeya lets the silence drag on and hums. “Why wouldn’t you, indeed.”
He finishes the last of his glass and pulls out a small box. “When Jean comes by next, can you hand this over to her?”
“Why not do it yourself?” Diluc grumps. “I’m not a mailman.”
“I’m going to Liyue first thing tomorrow morning. If I hand this over to her she’ll just open it immediately and be swamped with even more work.” Kaeya says contrarily. “Please?”
Diluc frowns. Kaeya knows he want to ask what’s wrong, but that wouldn’t be Diluc if he did.
He nods. “Fine, but you owe me.”
Kaeya just grins at him.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Kaeya knocks on the solitary confinement room and opens it.
Klee is on the small cot in the corner wearing the night dress that Amber had gifted her in her first week of staying with the knights. She’s not asleep yet, the small version of jumpty dumpty in her tiny hands.
“Big brother Kaeya! What are you doing here?” Klee greets him cheerfully. She bounces out of her cot and abandons the little bomb to tackle hug him.
“I just wanted to visit my little sister!” Kaeya says fondly. “Have you been a good girl?”
“Klee has been a good girl!” The little sunshine grins at him. “Jean hasn’t been mad in ages.”
Kaeya pats her head and sits down on one of the chairs, hauling the little girl onto his lap. “Do you want to hear a bedtime story?”
Klee brightens even more. “Of course! Kaeya tells the bestest stories!”
And he does.
(maybe because he’s never honest in them— the truth has never done him any good, so that’s why he’ll lie and lie and lie because that’s the only way he can live)
.
.
.
.
.
but not for much longer
.
.
.
Kaeya hauls the small bag of food into his pack and mounts his horse. He waves a cheerful goodbye to the guards at the gate and stops at the end of the bridge.
Mondstadt really was beautiful.
The eighth earthquake happens and he doesn’t look back.
.
.
.
.
.
.
He brings himself to one of the domains near Stormbreaker Point.
There’s no turning back now.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The first letter in the box he gave to Diluc was addressed to him.
And at the bottom buried underneath was his Vision with a pathetic flickering light.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Empty, empty, empty.
It’s what the domain is.
It’s a small circular platform after several flights of stairs, and a petrified branch of the World Tree at the end.
Here, where he’s alone, where he’s made sure that absolutely no one would follow him, he slowly pulls on his eyepatch. The golden star a bright contrast to the pointed blue pupil of his other eye.
The low murmurs of the voices of the chorus have risen to an agonizing chamber of screams. The pleas and the supplications of his people, who are no longer people and no longer his, pounds at his head. He could feel his heart chipping away bit by bit as he approached the dais but he tries to hold on to the last vestiges of self because this has never been a choice, not for him. His fingers are tingling and the blade-like stone with the crest of Khaenri’ah a burning coldness in his palm. It seems like the traveler had already cleaned up this Domain. Kaeya can only smile. It would have been additional work if it was still crawling with monsters but it wasn’t, so he’s mildly thankful, but at the same time, he would have welcomed the last few battles.
Kaeya stops just before the last stair and sits, pulling off his boots and setting them aside. He lifts off his fur cloak and folds it neatly beside the boots.
He removes all his accessories and lets his hair hang loose.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
On the center of the dais, he kneels facing the branch of the tree. The familiar stone blade glowing with the same light as his right eye.
Kaeya places the stone on top of his heart and slices the skin, letting the stone absorb his blood. He places his other hand on the branch—
and prays
prayer? What prayer?
TO WHAT GOD!?
Praypraypraypraypraytothatwhichhasn’tabandonedmeyet
Kaeya has never prayed, because the moment he does, the world will cast its eyes upon him
and will no longer be ignorant, will no longer let him
he isn’t special
he is NOTHING
Maybe—
nNo lon ger, be another
.
.
.
.
i don’t want to die
.
.
.
.
If he has to choose between himself and Diluc, between himself and Klee, between himself and all the people who has been kind to him, then he knows that his life is only a small ripple in the lake. Only a small mark, even if no one knows what he has done, will do, become.
(He remembers a bright smile, hesitant but undeniably joyful and the potted small lamp grass that guarded all his windowsills)
He is nothing but—
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Kaeya lets the voices overwhelm him.
Then he is nothing.
.
.
.
.
.
After three days, the earthquakes stop and the tension in Jean’s shoulders loosen. She heads over to the familiar tavern during its closing hours, a small relieved smile gracing her face. There is much work to be done in the aftermath of the quakes, but it seems like it has stopped. Looking at Venti, who himself has said that there probably wouldn’t be any more, Jean can smile.
“Hello there.” Jean greets. “It seems like the earthquakes have stopped now.”
Diluc also nods, tension in his shoulders disappearing as well. They make small talk and Diluc remembers the box that he was supposed to pass to Jean.
She opens it and turns ashen.
Diluc frowns in concern.
“Have—” Jean swallows uneasily and places the box on the bar table with a clatter. “No— Kaeya—”
Diluc stares at her, alarmed and looks at the box.
On top of the letters sits a Cryo Vision, lightless.