Work Text:
Kaeya sat in the Angel’s Share tavern in the gentle darkness of the evening, on a day like any other.
Normally, he sat at the bar, gossiping with the city folk and learning of their deepest secrets through wine and a tongue made of silver. But today, he sat in a corner on the second floor that was the darkest and most isolated. With a glass or two (or three) of his favourite wine, Death After Noon, he observed, from a bird’s eye view, of the customers who frequented the tavern.
Kaeya was an expert on the various psychological tendencies of people, and very familiar with the nature of humanity. It’s always the little things, always, that give people away.
Donna, for instance, would sometimes come into the tavern hesitantly to find Diluc. The moment she would see him, however, she would look mortified, blush a rather distressing shade of red, and awkwardly stumble out. Kaeya would notice that, contrary to her usual nonchalant declarations of love for the redhead, her hesitancy when she thought no one was watching might imply anything from insecurity, lack of self-confidence, lack of self-worth, comparing oneself to their crush, the list goes on. However, one would probably assume that it was insecurity for her looks and appearance, because of the subtle way Donna’s head would tilt towards the ground, as if to hide her face.
Kaeya once heard Paimon call Donna “plain-looking”, and while Donna had loudly and defiantly denied this claim at the time, he could tell that she had taken it to heart. Perhaps it was something many people had told her while she was growing up. The loud manner in which she refuted this would definitely confirm this too, as over-excessive volume in one’s tone always suggested defensiveness to a fault.
Finally, the awkward stumble she had while fleeing upon seeing Diluc looked reminiscent of a fight-or-flight reaction, and Donna chose flight. The suddenness in which she reacted would also suggest that Donna wasn’t planning to flee, and probably mustered up her courage beforehand, only to flee at the last moment.
Kaeya knew very well that his analysis of people worked at an alarmingly fast pace, as his mind worked quicker than lightning to assemble the puzzle pieces in order to form a full picture of anyone’s character. As he continued to savour his wine slowly, he found himself thinking about his own derelict life. How ironic that Kaeya was sitting here judging Donna’s existence, when he himself was the most ill-fated of them all.
He could still vividly remember his father’s last words to him, forever ingrained into his memory and soul.
“This is your chance. You are our last hope.”
On that ill-starred day, Kaeya and his father had fled from Khaenri’ah, and left behind the remnants of their old lives forever. They had turned around, slowly, to look at their unkind homeland one last time. In front of them on the horizon sat the ruins of Khaenri’ah, a land frozen in time. Behind them lay Teyvat, the lands that served as nothing but the reminders of their destruction.
Kaeya remembered feeling a sudden weight on his shoulders as he saw this, and he understood even then that this was not the time to act like a child. He remembered seeing that same weight on his father’s shoulders, and on the shoulders of every older person around him. For some, the weight was too much to bear on their shoulders alone, and so they had to put some of that weight on their backs. Some had to use their arms to help support the weight, and others did away with the heaviness entirely. If Kaeya was starting to feel the heavy weight as well, didn’t that mean he was getting older, and so now had to act like an adult?
It started to rain. A slow drizzle of tears at first, and then soon the heavens themselves were weeping and howling with anguish. Dark clouds formed over the once clear sky, and they soon kept all light from entering the world.
A storm was approaching. Kaeya wasn’t quite sure that he would ever see the light of day again. In a way, this feeling did come true. The sun would shine on him once more, and yet ever since that fateful day, he could feel nothing but a cold darkness surrounding him, threatening to suffocate him entirely.
His father had not uttered a single comforting word to him during this time, and had not shown any signs of emotion. Instead, he seemed to radiate an inky black darkness from the inside out that seemed to be nearly tangible. Kaeya knew, even at that young age, what a thirst for revenge looked like. Swirls of darkness twisting around a person’s form, curled fists, and a body so tense, so full of rage, that they could transform into a monster at any moment and go on a violent rampage.
Kaeya could feel the wrath emanating from the sparks of lightning as thunder crashed to the ground. Celestia herself seemed to be grieving for something precious, something that could never be found again. Something utterly broken, and cracked down to its very core. Whether it was his regretful childhood, a desolate present, or a tragic future, he does not know to this day.
Kaeya’s father grabbed his shoulders and squeezed them, hard. His eyes that had become dark with age seemed to look right through him, to some place far beyond.
Kaeya knew his father was not thinking of his son, but of Khaenri’ah.
“This is your chance. You are our last hope.”
And those few unspoken words: Don’t let us down. Don’t abandon us. Don’t betray us.
Don’t forget about us.
Those words had set Kaeya’s entire future in stone, in a contract signed by blood. They had caused a ripple effect that still continued to unfold in his life, and the effect revealed itself in new ways every single day.
The mad glint in his eyes that would appear during an adrenaline rush. Purposely putting himself into dangerous situations to feel anything other than a burden. His father’s words that always existed in the back of his mind, judging his every thought and action. Revealing the secrets of others if it meant keeping his own. Tiptoeing and dancing around his past like it was his own secret waltz. Looking at his reflection in a lake and only seeing a traitor, a murderer, a thief.
And there was the conflicted grief he felt when Master Crepus’s Delusion backfired on him, killing him instantly. Kaeya had shared the grief of his dear brother, of course, but mourning was not the first thing on his mind even as his adoptive father lay dying on the ground.
Instead, that ancient plot was running through his mind, the same one that had haunted him since before he was born. It was a cold, harsh reminder of how the past always found ways to resurface, and forced Kaeya to choose once and for all: Mondstadt, or Khaenri’ah? His birth father who had ruthlessly abandoned him, or his adoptive father who had raised him and loved him as his birth father never had?
Kaeya had been agonizing over these questions for his entire childhood and adolescence spent with the Radnvindr family.
He could never forgive himself for not immediately choosing his adoptive father. He resented the fact that his birth father's face, filled with hatred, still haunted his every waking hour, blighting even his most joyful memories with his loving adoptive father.
He could never forget the look of rage and betrayal on Diluc’s face as he finally came clean about his past.
But Kaeya could also never forget the look of both hope and hatred in his father’s eyes as he uttered his last words to him.
His father's hope that Kaeya would be the one to save their fallen nation and avenge the Abyss.
His father's hatred for the Archons and the destruction they caused to their homeland, and for having to live his life consumed by generations of an inherited thirst for vengeance.
Even as a child, Kaeya knew his father had abandoned him without any hesitation, and would gladly do so again if it meant having a chance to save their kingdom. The thought used to torment him, but has since then faded into a duller sort of pain.
Sitting with all of these thoughts, Kaeya suddenly realized that he was now on his fifteenth glass of Death After Noon. Diluc himself had walked over to his table and offhandedly confiscated the barrel that Kaeya had been absentmindedly pouring his drinks from.
“Now, now,” Kaeya said with mock distress, “I’m only getting started with my night off. Since when have you been concerned for my well-being?”
Diluc made a ‘hmph’ noise, then turned around and walked away without another word. Kaeya supposed that some things might never change. But for the moment, though, he was glad for it. Better that Diluc harbor some degree of resentment towards him than have hope for him. Heavens forbid that Diluc would ever forgive him, when Kaeya himself could never do the same.
In the days past, Diluc was the shining light who protected Mondstadt by day, and Kaeya was the one who supported him from the shadows. But now, Diluc was the one protecting Mondstadt from the darkness, while Kaeya, as a Knight of Favonius, protected Mondstadt while the sun shined. Although, he supposed that he did do a fair amount of his work in the shadows as well, consorting with criminals and the Fatui to find out their plans and foil them.
As he sat with his empty glass of wine, Kaeya wondered whether he would ever make it out of the shadows, and whether he would truly see the light of day again. He thought that it wasn’t very likely that it would ever happen. After all, his fate was intertwined with Khaenri’ah's. Kaeya’s traitorous thoughts about his homeland, and the god of his homeland, spelt out danger for his future. Everyone who was close to him would be endangered as well, which is why he carefully made sure that no one knew too much about him. In this way, no one could ever get too close to him, either. It meant that he was alone, even when he was with others, but Kaeya didn't mind.
Perhaps the Traveler and his companion had a key that could unlock this ancient plot, and spare him from his fate. After their journey across the Seven Regions, they would inevitably have to enter Khaenri’ah, as the answers the Traveler desires are all there. And once they did, Kaeya would have to make his decision.
If his decision was the more difficult one, but the one he wanted to make deep down nonetheless, Kaeya could finally begin to shed the age-old burdens from his childhood. He could feel, for the first time, what it was like to live without fear. In breaking free from his predestined fate, maybe Kaeya could finally start writing his own version of destiny.
If his decision followed through with his predestined fate, then his life would end in tragedy. If Kaeya took this route, all he saw were regretful endings, and how people would tell his story as a cautionary tale.
The time that he would have to decide, however, was still thankfully far off. The Traveler was going to Inazuma, he’d heard. Four regions left until they reached their journey’s end in Teyvat.
But until then, Kaeya would simply have to carry on with the weight of the sky, the heavens, and the world on his shoulders.
In the end, the gods’ gaze did not fall on him, just as their gaze did not fall on the people of Khaenri’ah. But it was something Kaeya had learned to accept. He would shoulder the weight of Celestia herself if it meant that no one else would have to.
After all, it was his burden, and his alone.