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When Albedo falls, it is with the searing pain of heartbreak, the bitter tang of blood coating his teeth, the numbing cold of frost deep in his bones. When he awakes, it is not to the acrid stench of smoke, to the taste of burnt flesh, to the city of Mondstadt in ruins around him. When he awakes, it is to the last star of Khaenri’ah watching down on him.
“You came back to me.” Kaeya says. There’s a smile, something soft, something mournful, painting his face. As Albedo comes to, as the world shifts back into focus, he feels the hands on his cheeks, cold comfort as long fingers intertwine in knotted blond locks, the grip tight, grounding him unto the mortal plane. “You came back to me. You always come back.”
“I always come back.” He repeats, a mantra, a prayer, and the smile on Kaeya’s face brightens till it is toothy, and wide, and far too full of innocence for someone who stands with the weight of a dead nation resting upon his shoulders. “I always come back.”
A soft nod, and then Kaeya moves, his grip loosening, resting his forehead on Albedo’s shoulder. His voice is a whisper, hot breath slipping down Albedo’s neck, twining its way around his spine, blending with the tears that have begun to slip through eyes clenched shut. “That you do.” He says, painful laughter hidden in his voice. “But, I’m afraid, that I might not.”
A moment of confusion passes. Then a second. Then a third.
There is the feeling of worn leather, his hand curled tightly around it. It burns on skin uncalloused, the transformation from man to monster removing the marks that defined him as human, the marks that defined him as himself. When he looks down, when he drags his eyes from the prince of Khaenri’ah, it is to find his own blade buried into Kaeya’s stomach, red leeching from the open wound, liquid life oozing into the ground, staining the world red.
From man to monster, from monster to man. That was how the transformation was intended. That had been Kaeya’s goal. Yet, Albedo had become monster again. A creature, destined to wipe a nation from the earth, his duty performed and failed in one fell sweep. The last of a people, dying by his hand. Fate, destiny, prophecy. She went by many names, and yet she remained cruel and cold, harming and hurting in ways that should not have been possible.
“No no no no.” Repeated. Again, and again. “No no no no no.” As though the words would bring Kaeya back to him, undo the deed done, stop the damage as though it had not gone too far already. Albedo was an alchemist, capable of so much. If he could kill, then why could he not create? His master had made him in her image, with a single flaw. That he could not bring life back into the world as she had done, that he could only take, and so taken he had.
“Don’t cry.” Kaeya spoke, though his voice was soft, weak. Cold fingers rubbed underneath Albedo’s eye, streaking away the liquid that had begun to gather. “Please, I don’t want to be forgotten, but if it means our last memory will be only pain, then I would willingly make that sacrifice.”
The leather of the hilt still buried itself into the soft, sensitive skin of his palm. In the situation of a stabbing, one was to make sure not to remove the object, and to be careful in case you were to move it and cause more damage. Had either of them had hope, the smallest glimmer that Kaeya may have survived, then the last moments they shared together would have been a desperate struggle for survival, a futile attempt to buy only a few wasted minutes.
Instead, Albedo removed his grip from the blade, wrapping his arms around Kaeya, and let himself mourn for a life that had not yet been lost, and celebrate that it had been him chosen to share these final moments. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, though the words did not carry the weight of what they meant. “I’m sorry, we could have had so much more time.”
“Time.” Kaeya speaks, his voice confused, quiet. “There is never enough time. Think ourselves fortunate. We at least got a goodbye.”
His grip goes slack, his body limp, and he slumps forward into Albedo. There is still life left in him, traces that cling, desperate for a few more seconds. It is sad, depressingly so, but it cannot be helped. It can never be helped.
Someone grips onto the back of Albedo’s shirt, tugging him away from Kaeya with ruthless force, shoving him to the ground, driving his face into the dirt. He should fight. He should scream and fight, beg them to let him share one last moment with Kaeya, let him ensure that Kaeya knows he is not alone, never alone. Yet, he does not bring himself to do so.
From his position in the dirt, he watches as the figure cloaked in black, shrouded in red, slowly lays Kaeya on the ground to rest. There are hushed whispers, barely murmurs, and Albedo hears every one of them.
“You need to hold on. Just hold on please. You can’t leave just yet; I need you to stay.”
“I’m sorry. So sorry.”
“There’s so much we need to do. You’re my brother, you were always my brother.”
“I never hated you, not even at the worst. I hated myself. I hated myself and you didn’t deserve that.”
“Please, just stay for five more minutes, I need you to know that I still love you. I need to find some way to earn your forgiveness.”
“Please I never even got to have you back!”
What right did Albedo have to take this moment from them? What right did the murderer have to plead for a moment with is victim? Those last moments, Kaeya’s last breaths, should have been spared for family, and family alone. And yet here Albedo sat, watching, waiting, the consequences of his own actions.
There was a scream, a wail, gut wrenching, as though it had come from the depths of the abyss only to torment Albedo. Sobs, harsh, tearing, painful sobs ripped through the form bowed over Kaeya’s body, shoulders trembling with each harsh breath that tore through their lungs.
Kaeya Ragnvindr, then Alberich, then Ragnvindr again, had passed, with his brother, murderer, and an unknown knight by his side. A tragedy undeserving of the hero of Mondstadt.