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Alright so maybe he had lied when he told Adelinde that they would head “straight to bed”. Yeah right, any good father would do that. No, he wasn’t a good father.
He was a fantastic one, and he’ll be damned if he refused his son something, especially when he looked at him like that. If his son wanted fireside bedtime stories, he got his fireside bedtime stories.
And okay maybe he was spoiling Diluc a little. Just a little. But who could blame him? He’s only eight years old—bit too old for bedtime stories, sure, but just by a bit, and what’s the harm in that?
If anything, he’s just passing down the Ragnvindr Clan’s legacy to his son and keeping their memories alive, through flamboyant regalings of battle tales and dramatic re-enactments of ancestral stories.
With, well, a few omissions here and there, a pinch of censorship, just slightly altered endings……—listen, he had to protect his son’s innocence and keep it child-friendly.
And besides, he wanted to give his son the happiest childhood he could offer. He of all people would know—the world was a harsh place. Cruel, dark, unkind…but Diluc didn’t need to know that. Not yet. Not for a long time.
Not ever, if Crepus could help it.
“Father?”
Diluc tugged at his sleeve, round eyes staring up at him. Crepus smiled gently.
“I’ll just be a moment, Diluc. I have to drain the bath. Go wait by the fireplace, alright? I’ll be over in a few minutes, so run along now.”
His son nodded obediently. Crepus listened as the door shut, his son’s footsteps disappearing out the room and down the hallway.
He shook his head, draining the tub, watching the bubbly water gurgle and churn as it swirled down, down, down…
No, Diluc didn’t need to know. He would delay that discovery from his son, protect him from the truth of the world they lived in, shield him from its darkness, as long as he could afford.
He was too small, you see. Too pure, too innocent, too bright. As a Father…as his father, he simply couldn’t bear to see the world taint it. Diluc was too young. He wasn’t ready.
One day, he thought, one day he’ll reveal the truth of this world to Diluc, and all the secrets he kept, when he’s older, when he’s ready. That was the promise he made to himself.
That was the promise he never got to uphold.
Diluc peeked around the corridor—empty, no maids in sight.
Even though Father had told him to wait by the fire (and Father was in charge of the whole house so everyone usually listened to him) he knew that if Adelinde caught him wandering around instead of sleeping, she wouldn’t hesitate to send both him and his father to bed. Sometimes, he thought that Adelinde was just as much in charge as his father was.
Fortunately for him, he hadn’t ended up running into her. Bubbling with excitement, he padded towards the door, pushing it open.
Movement. He froze. Someone was already curled up in the armchair, a quilt wrapped around them.
Oh no…He’d forgotten to check if anyone was in the room in the first place. Maybe he could make up an excuse, he left something behind and came back to retrieve it-? No, lying wouldn’t do…Perhaps if it was just a maid he could still convince them to keep quiet-?
Except, it wasn’t a maid. In fact, it wasn’t anyone he knew. Instead, an unfamiliar boy turned his head to the door, tensed. Diluc stared.
A single diamond eye stared back.
He had never seen any eye like that before. It was pretty. It was…special.
And it was completely foreign to him. His confusion quickly morphed into suspicion at the sight of some stranger sitting in his father’s armchair. He frowned, breaking the silence.
“Who are you?”
The boy didn’t answer. He just kept staring at Diluc, and it was beginning to unnerve him. Diluc opened his mouth, ready to question him more insistently, when the light from the fireplace hit his face just right, and the fear finally registered.
The boy’s unblinking gaze was deeply unsettling, making his insides squirm, but now that he’d noticed, it was also terrified, and the words Diluc wanted to say disappeared away.
For a moment, Diluc shifted uncomfortably in the doorway, at a complete loss. Then a thought occurred to him, recalling the conversation he had overheard between his father and Adelinde.
“…-never-……-need, Adelinde…”
“I-……-you, sir, forgive-…”
“…-was so cold and lost-…-could not bear-…-cruel of me not to-…-home so abundant-…-not on the future-…-merely thought-…”
The footsteps drew closer, and the murmur of distant conversation roused him from his sleep. Blearily, he blinked open his eyes, shuffling to the door. He turned the knob, ever so quietly, opening it a crack to let his father’s voice drift in.
“…-comes of the boy going forward, I cannot say, but I can assure you I will do my best to ensure the best possible outcome for him and everyone else that might become involved, whether or not that means letting him remain here indefinitely while we find a place for him elsewhere. I can give him this, at the very least—a place to call home, should he ever want or need it.”
A beat of silence as the conversation lulled. His sleepy brain struggled to process his father’s words, a dozen questions flickering across his mind.
A boy? Who was his father talking about? Was someone staying over? What did he mean by ‘indefinitely’? And ‘a place to call home’?
“You’re a good person, Master Crepus,” Adelinde replied, voice quiet. Diluc heard respect.
“And you, for listening to a troubled man’s woes.”
He didn’t understand. Troubled? What was it that had been troubling his father?
“Although…there was something else about the boy. Something…different…” his father trailed off. He had spoken slowly, almost hesitantly, and it was unlike him.
“Sir?” Adelinde prompted. He pressed closer to the door, pushing it open a little further…
“Well…how to put it…I have travelled far and wide, but this boy, I think he-”
Diluc peeked out the door. A mistake, for although his father’s back was to him, Adelinde’s gaze immediately caught his. Her eyes widened, mouth opening. He called out before she could.
“Father?”
He blinked slowly, exaggerating his sleepiness, sharply aware of his racing heart. His father turned to him, and he glimpsed the frown on his face before it shifted into surprise.
“Welcome home, Father. I..di’n hear you come back,” he slurred, rubbing his eyes for good effect.
His father smiled warmly, ruffling his hair affectionately, entirely unaware of Adelinde’s disapproving gaze. He ignored the feeling of Adelinde’s eyes on his back, quickly putting the conversation out of mind and pretending not to have heard.
Recognition ignited in him like the flame of a candle.
“Oh…you must be the boy Father brought home. The…the man with the bright red hair, just like mine……Are you?”
He fidgeted with the door knob, wondering if he had phrased the question alright.
For a moment, Diluc thought the boy might not reply again. Then he nodded, slow and hesitant.
A response! And he had been correct in his guess! Diluc bit back a shout of glee. He had to tread with caution if he wanted to acquaint himself with this strange skittish boy.
Footsteps and rustling distracted him, and he became aware of his incriminating position still by the door. Quickly, he entered the room, shutting the door behind him.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, speaking softly, “I just came to sit by the fire, if..if that’s okay with you?”
The boy’s visible eye widened. He nodded quickly, shrinking back in his seat. Slowly, Diluc approached, sinking into the armchair opposite him.
The fireplace crackled, its flames casting light on the other boy’s face. Interest piqued, Diluc tried not to let his curiosity get the better of him, but he found himself staring anyway.
The boy’s unruly locks of dark blue hair curled around his shoulders, falling about his face, concealing most of his features from view. Still, Diluc’s eyes were drawn to the pale blue streaks. He had never seen anyone with hair more than one shade, though Father had told him plenty about it, and he decided it looked much nicer than he had imagined.
Now that he was closer, Diluc could also see that even underneath the tousled mess of navy hair, his other eye was covered by an eyepatch. At the very least, he had enough sense not to pry on that matter, although secretly he wondered what the story behind it was.
Veiled in blankets and shadows, he hadn’t been able to tell, but here by the light of the fire, Diluc could see that his skin was different, the tone of it darker than his own.
Was it the same underneath the blankets? Probably, and yet he was also certain that even if the afternoon sun were to shine on both of them, it would be the same.
Father’s stories came to mind, of his adventures throughout Teyvat, of how people came in all sorts of forms—in hair colours, skin tones, the shade of their eyes; in clothing, and food, and the words on their tongues.
Different, but still one in the same.
Different, Father had said, but it is just as I am different from you, and you are different from me, that’s all there is to it.
He’d never really understood that, not quite, not until now, witnessing someone who looked so very different from himself. And yet, he shivered the same way Diluc did, sought out the same warmth of the fireplace, huddled by it to chase away the chill of the night all the same.
Well, that’s not so different after all, isn’t it?
It occurred to him, abruptly, that he had been staring rather rudely for quite some time now, and the boy appeared nothing less than disturbed. Stricken with shame, he hurriedly looked away, face flushed.
The silence between them was awkward, interspersed only by the intermittent crackle of burning wood and the howl of the stormy winds outside. Nervously, rather desperately, his gaze flitted around, fingers picking at the threads of a cushion as he tried to find a way to make conversation. Finally, his gaze landed on the window, rain still pattering against the glass panes.
“Father told me it was really cold outside, are you warmer now?”
The boy pulled the quilt tighter around his shoulders, nodding again, still silent.
Diluc found he disliked the tension in his frame, and wanted to put him at ease. He also wanted to know more about him and maybe…well, maybe make friends with him, but…
Unfortunately, he had never been good with words. They tumbled from his mouth all clumsy and inelegant, often falling out the wrong way. Father had lightly scolded him over it before, telling him he needed to have more ‘tact’.
Now, he wasn’t entirely sure what that word meant, but it probably had something to do with how okay it was to say some things. And sometimes, well, sometimes he didn’t say things that were okay. He gathered as much, from the surprised, almost hurt looks he sometimes got after he said something.
So indeed, words were pesky slippery things to him, and although he tried to take care in how he spoke, it still escaped him. It often left him struggling to find the right words to say, and the problem had apparently reared its head once again.
He chanced a glance at the boy, trying to read his expressions, but it was hard since he only had one visible eye, and Diluc came away frustrated and empty-handed. He bit his lip, thinking hard.
“That’s…that’s good, it would be bad if you got sick. Um…I’m Diluc by the way, it’s nice to meet you.” He scratched his head, laughing awkwardly. Introductions were a safe place to start, right?
The boy’s gaze darted upwards, stealing a peek at Diluc, evidently curious despite his fear. Somehow, that fueled Diluc’s confidence, and he smiled, leaning forward slightly.
“What’s your name? If you…don’t mind me asking,” he added quickly.
The boy studied him for a moment, as if weighing the merits of revealing his name.
“……K-Kaeya,” came the whisper eventually, so quietly, Diluc might not have caught it if he hadn’t been straining his ears for it.
Kaeya’s gaze fixed on him, waiting to gauge his reaction. Diluc rolled the word around in his mouth.
“Wow, that’s different from all the names I’ve heard before,” he remarked, more to himself than to Kaeya.
“..O-oh…” Kaeya curled into himself, looking away dejectedly, and oh dear, that was certainly not the reaction Diluc wanted. Panicked, he shook his head vigorously, waving his hands.
“No no I didn’t mean it in a bad way, I think it’s really cool! You..you have a really nice name, Kaeya!”
Archons, why couldn’t he ever say the right thing? His face heated up with embarrassment again.
“Agh, I’m sorry,” he groaned, burying his face in his hands, “Father said I should be more careful with my words, but I’m…I’m not very good at it yet.”
He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. Hoping his face was no longer as red as his hair, he lowered his hands.
Kaeya watched him, head tilted, as if he were strange—if he thought really hard about it, it made sense; after all, Diluc thought he was rather strange too. Although…it was hard to tell with most of his face concealed, but Diluc thought he was frowning.
Before he could ask, Kaeya made to turn away from him, but the faintest sneeze caught him midway, his body jolting uncontrollably.
Instantly, the relative ease he had fallen into evaporated away. His hand clapped over his mouth, body tense, eyes wide in horror—as if he had said something truly terrible, as if he had made some irreversible mistake.
“It’s okay,” Diluc said, not quite sure why, but he hated the haunted look in Kaeya’s eye and wished it would go away.
Uneasy worry wriggled around in his stomach, and he reached out, hands hovering close to Kaeya, uncertain, desperate.
“Are…are you still cold? I can make it warmer if you want, I can..I can-…”
Kaeya flinched away from his hands, trembling. Diluc stilled, inhaling sharply. Hand still over his mouth, Kaeya stared at him, frozen, shaking, the quilt slipping off his shoulders, not daring to speak, or move, or even breathe—
He’s scared of me.
The horrifying realisation dawned on him, as suddenly as the lightning crashing outside, and Diluc gasped, falling backwards. He stumbled away, breathing heavily, pulling his hands to his chest, as if he’d been burnt.
He’s scared of me, he’s scared of me, he thinks I’ll hurt him.
And how the thought of such a thing scared him, struck him distraught.
Why? Why does he think that? Why are you so afraid? Why are you scared of me? What are you scared of? Who made you this way? Why, why, why?—such questions swirled around in his mind, restless and wanting, demanding answers.
I’m sorry, you’re safe here , I wouldn’t hurt you— the words of reassurance that came to mind amidst his waves of despair, felt pitiful and empty even in his mind.
Tell me, tell me what to do, how I can help, tell me how to make you feel better, was what he really wanted to say.
Instead, he turned to the fireplace, its dying embers and ashy charcoal remains. Heart pounding, his hand fell to his waist, seeking out his vision. His fingers curled around the orb, clutching it tightly, and it came to life with a soft pulsating glow, thrumming excitedly, responding eagerly to his touch.
“Here...watch this,” he murmured, voice gentle, closing his eyes.
Determined, he recalled his teachings, inhaling slowly and purposefully through his nose. Clearing his mind, he pictured a flame that would chase away the darkness, bright and warm in his palm, willed it so.
He opened his eyes, and the fire sprung to life in his hand, an orange ball of warmth and light. Vaguely, he heard Kaeya gasp in surprise. He blinked, stunned himself.
It had come easily, almost readily, far easier than usual, without a fight. He had barely even called for it at all. It was as if it had already been waiting for him, and merely jumped at the chance to alight.
Delighted, he set it down in the hearth, coaxing it further, feeding it a piece of wood, which it took to happily. Making itself comfortable, it unfurled itself across the wood with blooming licks of fire, settling into its new home within the fireplace.
Diluc nudged it on, and it flourished further until finally it stood, tall and proud, dancing cheerily, crackling a lively tune.
He gazed at the fire he made, watching the flames sway mesmerizingly, and a different kind of warmth flooded him, calming, content. It was comforting, using his vision—pent up emotions, overwhelming thoughts, all of it fell away in the warm light of his vision-created fire; the weight on his shoulders burnt away in the flames, the fog in his mind vaporised into lulling clarity.
He added another piece of wood, just to be safe, before turning to Kaeya, brushing his sooty hands off, grinning.
“That’s much warmer now, don’t you think?”
“H..how did you do that?” Kaeya blurted out, awed.
The question caught Diluc by surprise, but Kaeya’s voice was—for the first time—not filled with guarded apprehension, but admiration. It seemed in his wonder he had momentarily forgotten his fear, and it pleased Diluc greatly. He was quick to match Kaeya with a question of his own, refusing to let any doubt or regret sink back in now that he had managed to (literally) lighten the atmosphere.
“You've never heard of visions before?”
Deciding the two steps to the armchair was two steps too far, he shifted his weight off his heels, sitting down cross-legged on the carpet right next to the fireplace. Then he reached down, unclasping the chain clipping his vision to his waist, and held it up for Kaeya to see.
“This is a pyro vision, it lets me make fire, just like that.” He snapped his fingers, sparks flying from them. Kaeya stared intently at it, eye shining with amazement. Secretly, Diluc couldn’t help the pride that welled up in him every time he showed off his vision to someone. This time was no different, but just like always, he pushed it down, thinking of all he had left to learn and the amount of training he still needed before he would be anywhere close to good with his vision.
The last thing he wanted was to appear arrogant, and he found that such reminders were effective in humbling him.
“Father said it’s remarkable that I managed to get one at such a young age, but I can’t actually do too much with it yet…” He laughed nervously, brushing a hand through his hair.
“I wasn’t sure if it would work, actually, because I’m still really new at it, but I’m glad it did, because now it’ll protect you from the cold, and the dark.” He beamed, repocketing his vision.
“I’ve been practicing a lot with it. Soon, I’ll be able to do really big things with it, just you wait and see! I’ll learn how to fight with it, then I can join the Knights of Favonius to keep the city safe and help protect everyone in Mondstadt, and-..”
The doorknob clicked.
Diluc reeled his excitement back in, pausing. He smiled reassuringly at Kaeya, before turning to see his father pushing the door open with his shoulder, two steaming mugs in hand.
“Sorry I took a little long, I dropped by the kitchen for-..Oh?” His father looked up, eyes travelling between the two as he took in the sight of the two boys, Diluc’s hands still hanging in the air from where they had been gesturing animatedly mid-conversation.
“So you’ve already met,” he chuckled, closing the door with his foot, “that’s good, I was a little worried how you two might get along.”
He set the mugs on the table, approaching them. Gently, he tugged the quilt back around Kaeya, before pressing the back of his hand against his forehead, humming thoughtfully.
“Hmm…can’t quite tell…”
He turned to Diluc, shifting to rest his hand on Kaeya’s shoulder.
“Diluc, this is Kaeya, although I think you know that by now. He’ll be staying with us for a while. He’s a little shy, and he’s not from around here, so there might be a few things he doesn’t know, and that’s okay.” He smiled at Kaeya warmly, who flushed under the attention.
“Hospitality is very important to the Ragnvindr Clan, so you let any one of us know whenever you need something, if you don’t understand something, if you’re uncomfortable, anything at all, and we’ll do our best to help you. I assure you we’ll all be very patient now, isn’t that right Diluc?” He shot his son a meaningful look. Diluc sat up straight, nodding profusely.
“Of course, Father!”
His father patted his head fondly, moving to sit in the empty armchair.
“Good, now here,” he gestured to the mugs on the table, “there’s one for each of you. Quickly, before it gets cold.”
“Thank you, Father!”
He climbed to his feet, grabbing the drink eagerly, its contents sloshing dangerously close to the brim.
“Careful, Diluc, I know I said quickly but it’s still hot, you don’t want to burn yourself,” his father sighed, throwing him a flat look, but there was no heat behind his eyes, and his voice gave away his endearment. Diluc grinned, meek and unapologetic.
“I won’t!”
“I sure hope so.”
He ignored his father’s warning, drinking it directly without bothering to wait or blow it cool. He liked his drinks hot anyway, and the mild tingling sensation of the liquid lightly scalding his tongue was pleasurable to him.
His father really did make the perfect hot chocolate. He turned to Kaeya, wanting to tell him so, but noticed his uncertain, almost forlorn gaze, fixed on his untouched mug. His father’s words came to mind, and he cleared his throat, drawing Kaeya’s attention.
“This is a drink called hot chocolate,” he explained, holding out his mug, “It’s sweet, and warm, and a bit milky because Father likes adding milk to his version, but don’t worry, I promise it’s definitely more than safe to drink, and it tastes really good too. After all, Father makes the best drinks in the city!”
“Now hold on a moment-” his Father interjected.
Slowly, Kaeya picked up his mug, sniffing it tentatively, staring into its contents as his father’s voice of objection overlapped with his own.
“Don’t say that it’s-”
“That’s nonsense-”
“-no it’s not! He’s-”
“-just because I’m-”
“-in charge of Mondstadt’s best winery, yes-”
“-it doesn’t make my drinks the best!”
“Oh but it does! He makes the most delicious drinks, and he’s always inventing new ones that everyone loves, not just the wine, but other drinks too, like this one, and whenever he bartends at Angel’s Share—it’s the bar he owns back in the city—everyone always loves what he makes, and-...” Diluc trailed off.
As the two bantered, Kaeya had cupped his mug with two trembling hands, the clouds of steam rising into his face as he lifted it to his lips, taking a hesitant sip. And then…and then……
And then a tear slid down his cheek, and another, and Father was rising from his chair, taking the drink from him and setting it back down on the table so it wouldn’t have a chance to spill. And then he was settling himself on the armrest and rubbing circles on Kaeya’s back as he buried his face in his hands and cried. Diluc stood, watching, mug in hand, suddenly feeling very out of place.
“D-...Did I say something wrong?” He asked, voice small and lost.
His father let out a quiet huff. It was almost laughter, but not, falling just short of it, into something slightly bitter. He beckoned to his son, regarding Diluc with eyes soft and kind, tinted in sadness as he drew both boys closer to him.
“Not at all, my dear, not at all,” he murmured, voice light, wrapping his arms around the two as he settled them on his thighs, “you’ve done very well. Kaeya’s just had…a bit of a rough night…there there, it’s okay, just let it all out…you’ll feel much better after, no need to be ashamed…here, drink this up, that’s it…it does taste good, doesn’t it? How does a story sound? Diluc, what do you think’s a good one to tell tonight?”
“Umm...oh! Tell him the one about the..the Seven, Father, and all the visions.”
“Why, I asked for one, my boy, not dozens! Shall I tell them all to you at once?”
“Father, don’t tease! You know what I meant!”
“Do I, now?”
“You-…just-..just pick one out…”
“Alright then, how about we start with something nice and light-hearted, hmm? Here, from the very beginning-……”
And so, the first night ends as such—with several ups and downs, but ultimately, peacefully.
In wiped tears and hot chocolate.
In rekindled fire and half a dozen stories.
And many more to come.
Many more to come…