Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

If one was to ever ask the archon of Mondstadt, the blessed Anemo Archon, symbol of Mondstadt’s freedom and dream, who could triumph over his own love of the land, then he’d probably laugh. He’d twirl his drink and say that all of the people of Mondstadt love the city in their own way. He’d strum his lyre and proclaim that it is not easy to quantify, don’t you say? What can you quantify love with, dear audience? Is it through dedication, maybe passion, might be principle or maybe sense?

Of course, it would be understandable that it would be hard to quantify such terms. To rival a god, an archon, especially one such as Barbatos, who moves in secret yet in aid of his people, who entrusted their future and believed in their capability, in their godliness is a laughable thing. Yet he himself would digress, talk about how I’m not really a god anymore, gnosis gone and all that, and hum his own little tune. So I’ll just say.

Whoever would, might get the attention of Celestia, he admits. It’s not a bad thing, but it’s not a great thing either. In my experience, well.

They’re a bunch of weirdos, and anything they’d do, I’d probably send myself to sleep just to avoid them too.

Now, where’s that glass of wine? I think it’s overdue.

Oh hey, I rhymed!

Mondstadt is beauty defined at day. The bustling sounds of children running around, shop owners and tavern employees shouting for their products, mix around to create a cacophony of lively noise. The bards at different areas mix the chatter with music and song. People patrol or dilly dally around, eat aromatic food, clink their beverage-filled glasses and laugh. Together, Mondstadt city becomes alive, a fortress in the middle of a sparkling lake standing true to its history.

It is not asleep at night, however, as there is a certain charm to lull of activity. At night, the windmills are louder, as if they were the giant guardians of the walled city; together with the lights that parade down the streets of Mondstadt, they create a beautiful scene. Rather than bards and chatter, it is the wind that produces the music at night, added with maybe a stray instrument player or two, that color the atmosphere. Pair it with the glittering stars in the sky, with an amazing vantage point, then everything seems a bit ethereal.

This view has been the comfort for one Diluc Ragnvindr, for the past year.

Mondstadt is where he had grown up and lived throughout his life, and to see it peaceful is a sight that clenches his heart involuntarily. There was nothing that could explain the simple joy of knowing that his city and its inhabitants were safe. Though never overtly shown, his vigilante-esque ventures around the land, without regard for the official authority of the Knights of Favonius, is always for the safety and security of his people. He would gladly lose sleep and become exhausted every night if it meant days and nights such as these.

If someone was to ask what his driving force was—and there would be a scarce population on who would ask, since only a few know about his nightly escapades— then his answer is quite simple.

Mondstadt is his home.

There wasn’t anything more heinous about his actions, no underlying motivation. Maybe it was pushed by his… mistakes and experiences in the past, but his resolve was forged after those events. Three years of lone sojourn, coming back with a determination stronger than he ever thought he could conjure, without his Vision. Three years, and obtaining said Vision back, and the passion that thrums in the blood of every Pyro Vision user amplifies loudly. Every slash of his great sword is imbued with his resolve, pyro flames a statement towards his enemies.

Stay back, they seem to proclaim. Mondstadt is under my protection.

It is befitting to call him the Uncrowned King of Monstadt—because there was never any contest of who protects their kingdom night and day.

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Not that he likes being called the Uncrowned King, because like his other nickname, it sounds a bit tacky.

Mondstadt, he loves, but archons — the gossip and nicknames are just insane.

Despite the gravity of his statements of protecting Monstadt, the day-to-day, night-to-night situation of the city isn’t that dire. Sure, there are hilichurls and Abyss Mages around and about, but nothing too heavy for one man to tackle. The Knights of Favonius may even possess the power to take care of these problems, if they trained their knights right.

Diluc had experience being trained by the knights, and they were… good, from what he knew. He knows the special treatment to Vision Holders, which makes sense due to their amplified battle strengths from the blessings given alongside the Vision. Before the Unfortunate Events of his life took place, he did take over training other knights, and there was a rigorous regiment prepared for them.

But not really seen in more current ones, it seemed. Those kinds of nights were probably whisked away for the grand excursion of the Grandmaster, which was very grand. Just this morning, he had to personally save a knight from a slime. A slime. Those bouncy elementals that did nothing but try to hit you with their element in the slowest possible time . Even children could see that they were either provoked to come, and are wise enough to evade them or at least, be equipped to battle them.

Diluc had seen a child douse a pyro slime with a bucket of water. What, in Archon’s sake, was the Knight doing, cowering behind a shrub, against a dendro slime?

He makes it known to the knight, who was currently breathing heavily, as if he was the one who fought against a Mitachurl. Dendro slimes, twitchy elemental beings they are. His claymore was still blazing with pyro, just in case another wayward plant starts moving underground.

“I—I forgot my l-lighter, Master Diluc!” The knight confesses.

Diluc stares at him. Lighter?

The knights fight dendro slimes…with lighters?

There was a headache coming in. He knows this. There’s always a headache that accompanies him whenever he so much ventures near a knight, or worse, the Knights of Favonius headquarters.

“I suppose they even gave you a matchbox,” Diluc says with a straight face, thinking that surely, surely, that wasn’t the case. A matchbox in the kit of the nights? They’d fare better with the lighter, but a potion might be a better weapon for them since they were dealing with elemental beings, after all. People throughout Teyvat’s history have made adjustments to fend themselves against the harsher elements of nature.

Yet when the knight—whose name was Godwin, of all the most ironic names if syllabicated—nods, Diluc feels the headache turn into a migraine. This is what I get for stopping my carriage. A migraine.

“Thank you for helping me, Master Diluc!” Godwin exclaims. “I promise, usually I am able to take care of these threats. But I haven’t gone back to Springvale yet today. I thought I was able to clear out yesterday, but I guess, um,” the knight steadily lost his steam as Diluc continued to stare at him, “—um, I just haven’t checked back yet, I suppose.”

“You suppose. I suppose that’s why you can’t check in Mondstadt, where the headquarters are.”

“…N-No. I mean yes. No—er, I meant, Master Diluc—”

He wasn’t even doing anything and the knight looked terrified. Is this really the state of the knights? Someone should give them horror books written in Inazuma. Their horror genre had always piqued his interest with how realistic they always seemed, which they might be, if he was honest to himself. Ghosts never really scared him as a kid, but the prospect of one just standing in one spot made him uneasy back then.

Well, either way, it wasn’t his priority if the man wanted to go to Springvale to buy… a lighter, or a box of matches, or Archons forbid, ice cubes for the hydro slimes he had seen around Windrise. This was the Knights of Favonius’ problem, not his. No need to further their conversation with mindless chatter.

“It’s fine,” he mutters, deciding to save the guy from further embarrassment—but for who, he didn’t know. Maybe Diluc himself, because the secondhand waves of fear did nothing to quell his admittedly social awkwardness. “I’m just—glad that you’re fine.”

Oh, he was performing great today. By the looks of the guard, who looked like he was doused with blessings from Celestia, that was the right thing to say.

“I shouldn’t bother you further anymore, Master Diluc!” The rapid standard movement of a Knight—sitting, standing up, saluting and being at ease—was performed in front of him at admirable speed. 

(He supposed speed was Godwin’s blessing. The man did outrun a dendro slime.)

“Thank you for saving me!”

Out of his better judgment, which might be because of his lack of sleep last night, he asks for the knight to give his sword. Godwin complies in a state of confusion, but when Diluc imbues it with pyro—a neat trick he liked to do when he had learned to do it when he was young—his expression morphs into awe. Not my agenda for today, Diluc thinks to himself, starry-eyed wonder is not a good look on you, Godwin.

He was still a nobleman, of course, born and raised with etiquettes and niceties—so he doesn’t say any of that sort. “Stay safe, the fire will last you till Springvale,” Diluc says instead, in the flattest tone he could muster, but the awe in the man’s eyes isn’t extinguished at all. “There aren’t any hilichurls on the main path, so I suggest you take it.”

“Y-Yes, sir! Thank you, Master Diluc!”

He starts walking towards the carriage—whom he sees his employee with an amused look on his face, really now—before he pauses.

“Also, I would buy a potion,” he says offhandedly. “Rather than a lighter…or a matchbox. They’re more potent to fight against slimes, and at least you can imbue it in your sword.”

Continuing towards his carriage, he doesn’t see the vigorous nod that Godwin gives him, as the knight walks towards Springvale. Instead, what he catches sight of is the grin on the driver’s face, and, as the true nobleman that he was, decides to keep his annoyance to himself and close his eyes.

On the path to the Dawn Winery near Wolvendom, on the second time of the day, he prevents someone from accidentally dying. Though, unlike the Knights of Favonius, this was via a barrel explosion, and a flying kid.

The loud boom had emanated just above them, and he was pretty sure that whoever was thrown off the higher cliff would suffer at least a concussion if they fell on their head, or a broken limb or bone or two. The height was about ten meters—and he was pretty sure he’d clear some of those, in his past ventures. Then again, he was a Vision holder with experience, which made his body tougher than the average person. Maybe the kid was a vision holder too, if the explosion was anything to come by.

Still, it looked like a kid that was falling at dangerous velocity.

Diluc hurriedly opens the carriage door and sprints out, surprising the horses and his companion.

Gathering strength to his legs, he jumps up. He thinks, this is a two-man job to even be remotely safe , and prepares himself for injury. Or death. Whichever comes first in this irrational decision. 

The body slam that ensued was painful, to say the least, but the rational part of his mind told him to deploy his wings for an added cushion of impact, which he did. He almost falls wrongly, if not for the fact that some kind of miracle wind pushes him upright and nicely lands him to the ground.

The kid in his arms stills, and even he is bewildered at the slow descent they both had.

“Whoa,” the kid murmurs, and Diluc has half the mind to remove his arm that was entwined over the kid’s torso. The kid turns around, and his mouth drops a little—probably recognizing him.

Curiously enough, he kind of recognizes the kid as well, though never personally interacting with him. Bennett, he believes. Unlucky kid from the Adventurer’s Guild, frequent visitor of the Cathedral for healing.

“M-Master Diluc!” Bennett exclaims, and wobbles all of a sudden. Diluc reaches out to still him, but even he shakes in place a bit. “Oh. Thanks! If you weren’t there, I’d surely be injured!”

What a positive kid, but that’s worrying, Diluc muses to himself. He’s not even shocked in the slightest. That was a high place to fall from.

“...kid. You’re Bennett, right? What happened, anyway?” He asks, eyes flitting to the edge where Bennett had plunged from.

The shocked look on his face amplified, even further.

“Yes! I’m Bennett, sir,” he nods with a sheepish grin. “And ah…well, I was adventuring—and, well, you know, I don’t know if you know, Master Diluc, I’m a bit unlucky, so I was trying my best to not fight any hilichurl or Abyss Mage; I was supposed to just get a few pinecones, but then out of nowhere, there was a lot of them, especially with those small pyro slimes they use to explode things! I didn’t think they meant to throw it at me at that moment, though,” Bennett scratched his cheek. “Because there was an exploding barrel beside it, and other hilichurls…”

There was a lot to unpack there, he knew, but Diluc was anything if he wanted to, and today he could be a patient man. “First, pinecones? There are plenty near Mondstadt. I don’t think you need to be…here.”

“O-Oh! I’m part of the Adventurer’s Guild. It’s a commission, sir, and they needed a lot and there weren’t that many in Mondstadt.”

He nods absently. That confirms three things. One, this kid was the unlucky adventurer kid, because of the explosion and because he’s pretty sure that the trees in Mondstadt didn’t just become magically empty of pinecones. Two, people really should really be careful to who they give their commissions to. Three, they make commissions to get pinecones? It may supposedly belong to the owner of Good Hunter, which gives Monstadt Hashbrowns, but still. Doesn’t Draff and the other… hunters do it on their own?

I didn’t know that the guild had stranger commissions, Diluc thinks to himself. 

“Second. You said you were in a team. Where are your companions? I have not seen any.”

The kid’s face colored, and Diluc realized that he must have hit a sore spot. If the kid was unlucky as he might seem, others would’ve been intimidated—or scared, more likely, to join his team. Immediately, he waves his hand to dismiss his question. “Nevermind. Are you okay? I don’t think I have spare bandages here, but we’re near the winery. I could treat you there and have a healer come by.”

Bennett raised his hands and waved them frantically. “No! It’s okay. I’m fine, Master Diluc. That was a great catch—I can’t feel any bruises or injuries, so there’s no need! I’m sure you’re pretty busy—”

“Not now,” Diluc cuts in his tirade, a little bit feeling the shock in his body once the adrenaline fades away. The kid blinks in attention. “I can get you to the winery, I can see you favoring your left leg. Besides, it’s lunch. Let’s go.”

“Um, Master Diluc—”

“ Bennett .”

“O-Okay! I just need to pack my—”, he freezes, and a look of utter dismay wracks his whole body. “Oh no ! My pinecones, I — I must’ve lost them in the explosion!”

Diluc sighs and forcefully moves the kid towards the carriage. He notes to himself to tell one of the maids to just buy pine cones for the kid.

Today is a strange day, Diluc thinks as he takes account of the glasses in front of him. It’s eventful, to say the least.

After Godwin and Bennett, several more instances that he normally wouldn’t encounter, happened all at once, in a single day. Someone getting attacked incessantly by hilichurls, a slime infestation, treasure hoarders pretending to be injured (which didn’t last long when they realized who they were actually trifling with). 

Usually the Knights of Favonius, a random Adventurer, or, well, somebody else that wasn’t him would usually come to help. Usually, he’d be up and about in the winery, so he wouldn’t be able to encounter them at all. However, since today particularly started with him having the need to go to the Barbatos statue near the winery—with no discernible reason except he “wanted” to—then he could tack the day as strange.

Also, he found himself almost smiling so many times today. Not that he didn’t do it, because smiling was part of his capabilities—he wasn’t devoid of what Kaeya would call the emotional range of a person— but he felt a bit like his old self. Much happier, perhaps, though he doesn’t really recall why he’d be so, since yesterday was just like any other day.

“My, my,” a familiar smooth voice piped up behind him. He snorts to himself and rolls his eyes as he turns around, meeting gazes with his estranged brother. “Aren’t you a popular man today? I've heard more stories about you encountering a lot more than the usual adventurer, Master Diluc.”

The headache that has been accompanying him throughout the day makes itself known, but he doesn’t let it show.

He doesn’t deign him with a response, but he flourishes the other man with a glass of his usual order, Death After Noon. There was no need to see the look of approval on his face—Kaeya, as long as he’s known him for as a bartender for Angel’s Share, would only order two kinds of drinks. 

As always, he lets the other man drone on with whatever he wants to talk about.

“Let me see, helped our dear Six-Fingered bard fend off a bunch of hilichurls, fought off a bunch of slimes in Windrise, saved two adventurers—that Bennett kid and Alfyr, I believe,” Kaeya hummed. “Oh, and aided a knight! How chivalric of you today. Such a bleeding heart. Are you perhaps returning to your old, kind self?”

He doesn’t know how Kaeya had listed the majority of his incidents today without being there, but it was a thing they knew how to do with one another, anyway. Just like he knew that Kaeya had been in Daudapa Gorge for the day, talking to the researchers there. Not that he needs to throw the knowledge towards Kaeya; it’s not like he finds it curious to do so. Whatever the knights do with their manpower, which unfortunately included him, is none of his concern. They just needed to do their job correctly when their job is tending to a threat to Monstadt.

“You’re annoying,” he says instead, and pretends to not be amused when Kaeya laughs airily.

The atmosphere between them simmers into a relaxed hum, and Kaeya, comfortable in his place, only stretches in his seat. The constant tapping of his fingers doesn’t even send him into a diatribe, which seems to be a blessing from Celestia itself. The tavern is quiet too, unusually lacking the chatter of the people that regularly visited Angel’s Share. Was there an occasion in Cat’s Tail that he didn’t know of?

The inquisitive look must have shown up on his face because Kaeya perks up from his forehead-to-panel position, and puts his hand under his chin.

“If you’re wondering, I also don’t know.”

“No one asked you,” Diluc answers after a few moments, polishing the last set of the glasses.

“I thought you like the prospect of a quiet tavern, Master Diluc? Since you’re always so quiet in your corner, I’d thought you’d be celebrating for this once-in-a-month experience, no? Drink a glass of grape juice and be merry.”

Seriously , this man had so much theatrics, he even rivalled those plays they’d use to watch from Liyue. He wonders if Kaeya’s current manners were modelled after them—he wouldn’t be surprised if the drama he speaks about was purely constructed from the slow, methodic cadence of storytellers in Liyue.

“No need.”

Kaeya laughs again, standing up from his stool. “Do you want me to check?”

No need.

He places down the wine glass. “Like I say, time and time again—your business is not mine to interfere with.”

The amusement glittering in the other man’s eye showed that he knew what he meant. “Alright, alright. I’ll keep an eye out.”

Kaeya was about to turn around when the door opens, and both of them look inquisitively at the familiar bard by the doorway. Said bard had an unusually lighter look on his face, nearly forced if he was trying to look more into it, which Diluc didn’t really want to do. Yet something was telling him to do so, and he finds himself tensing at the thought of the former archon encountering something awful.

“Well, hello, Master Diluc, Captain Kaeya!” Venti greets, bounding towards the stool and propping himself up gladly. The bard looks around curiously, leaning back without a care of falling—Diluc was sure that Anemo would save its god in trivial matters such as these if there is a need. “Quite the day, isn’t it? Seems like not a lot of people chose to visit the taverns tonight.”

“Oh? So our dear Master Diluc’s lovely attitude wasn’t the one that pushed away people from Angel’s Share, I see. ” Venti only laughs at the jab, and Diluc sighs to himself. “Fascinating. Did everyone have a bad day today?”

“I wouldn’t say that, I think they were quite jovial today, if the plaza was anything to note! I just think that tonight is a very nice night and some people have been given extra time tonight to celebrate it.”

If he was any other bard, Diluc would be inclined not to believe the assessment—some bards loved to exaggerate in stories like these. But the bard in front of him was the Anemo Archon, probably the one who knew Mondstadt’s heartbeat and breath in a flash; and Venti was never to lie about the state of the city, at least. Besides, extra time is always useful if one is preoccupied with a lot of things.

Unfortunately, Diluc was someone who likes working and resting on the job at the same time, so he doesn’t really need to venture out early. Maybe, however, he should send the people in the mansion home at least? Should he close the tavern and inform them to have a good night’s rest?

“…well, you’re right about that,” Kaeya was saying, once Diluc realized that he had zoned out, wiping the same glass repeatedly. “Even Acting Grandmaster Jean requested to check up on Deaconess Barbara, and I swear I saw tears form on that girl’s eyes. Quite the sibling love, I believe.”

“Nothing purer!” Venti agrees, sliding his gaze towards Diluc. Probably knowing that he didn’t track the earlier conversation, he tacks on a short preamble of what they must have discussed. “Is it not quite heartening to see Mondstadt so full of joy, Master Diluc? What do you say?”

“ Heartening wouldn’t be my first choice of description, but it’s… nice.” he says, and pretends not to see Kaeya’s smile through his glass. Honestly, he thinks he’s being subtle. “My walk back to the winery might be uneventful, at least. It’ll give me…comfort.”

If, that is, whatever kind of curse had followed him throughout the day dissipated already. There was a high chance of probability of an Abyss Mage suddenly showing up on his doorstep, ready to burn down the tavern.

“You don’t look comforted at all.” Kaeya notes. “Are you still worried your curse of chivalric tendencies today will impede your nightly stroll?”

I am, he thinks, but he doesn’t deign him a response. The frown sent on his way did not go unnoticed.

“It’ll be fine, Master Diluc!” Venti chirps. “It might be strange, but today might just be a test! You never know, so just put your mind to rest. These things will pass, and your patrons will come back! Wine, after all, will always be Mondstadt’s siren call!”

That stilled his movements, but he tried not to show how much that made him unsettled. Those might’ve been the words of a bard trying to be cheeky and reassuring, but—and he minutely turns around, and schools his face when he meets the much older look in Venti’s—no, Barbatos’— eyes.

A test? What was he being tested about? How many tests in his life does he even have to do?

Hasn’t he been tested enough?

“Well, that’s funny. Why would he be tested now,” Kaeya twirls his cup. Like always, it seems like he was in the same vein as he is, even now. “Is it loyalty to Mondstadt? We’ve always known Master Diluc is quite the loyal man to the Land of Freedom. I know half of what he does and it’s hilarious. Quite the useless test, if you were asking me.”

Venti gained a strange look on his face, and the headache—matching with something awful that was bubbling in Diluc’s stomach—troubled him more than he ever had for the past year. Since the Dvalin incident, actually. He watched the disguised god lean on the counter. “ Oh , you trust Master Diluc that much with the City of Mond, Captain Kaeya?”

If Kaeya heard the surprise—or judging tone—of Venti, he didn’t make any indication of it. Kaeya doesn’t answer, but Venti smiles, seemingly understanding Kaeya’s line of thought. 

This was the first time in a long, long time that he has ever felt like he is out of his element, nor his place. As if somehow, Kaeya and him were back at his father’s study, an area they weren’t really allowed in when there was a meeting. Something private was happening, but he was part of it, yet he didn’t know what it was.

Diluc doesn’t know why Kaeya sounds the most genuine out of everything he has said for the past few months. Was the god at fault?

Barbatos, what is he doing?

Venti meets his gaze, and smiles, but it doesn’t look like he’s looking at Venti the bard. Which makes sense, because it felt like Diluc was once again on the back of Dvalin, the anemo archon just a few meters away from him, staring into the scales of the dragon with an ancient gaze.  

It’s the same, and it makes him apprehensive.

Diluc swallows.

He gets a wine glass and makes sure to fill it almost to the brim with the best wine he has. Gives it to Venti, and ignores how Kaeya looks at him as if trying to catch his attention.

Venti drinks the wine nonchalantly.

He feels a bit of dread seep in.

Closing the tavern is quiet, if there aren’t any drunkards about. Mondstadt’s citizens are generally polite save for a two or so, but they’ve always been dealt with swiftly.

“I’m sad to go, Master Diluc,” Kaeya murmurs, still with that lilt of tease in his voice. Diluc hums, and Kaeya pats his shoulder. “Don’t sleep too early, you might meet the morning knight patrol, and burst a vein.”

“Uhuh.” Diluc says, and shows him out of the tavern.

Not many visited, after the frankly heavy atmosphere that had settled after their conversation. The regulars did pass, but didn’t linger too much, claiming that the night was beautiful and they were going to savor it with their family for the night. Diluc politely told them it was fine, and they were not obligated to always come around; that their support, after all, was beneficial for the tavern and the Dawn Winery still.

Even Stanley came in, with a lesser morose look on his face, and ordered wolfhook juice, of all things. If he weren’t a professional, he would’ve asked if the man was alright and escorted him to the nuns.

But he was, so he gave him wolfhook juice, and stared as the man downed it in one go.

“Strange, isn’t it,” his only companion in the tavern mused, breaking him out of his thoughts. “The way some things change.”

He was inclined to disagree, but after seeing too many things happen today that weren't… normal, for him, he stays quiet.

“Tell me, Master Diluc,” Venti says, swinging his legs. “Will it bother you if life tests you even more?”

Not this test thing again.

If there was anything that he hated the most aside from the Knights and the Fatui, it was anything cryptic; the double entendre and layered, winding statements present in them. Not that he wasn’t able to figure them out—on the contrary, he likes mulling over words more often than not. The network he aids in wields the same cryptic attitude in their messages, which makes information gathering and giving successful. 

On the other hand, it is what makes conversing with Kaeya difficult; he has seen too many people be swindled in how Kaeya plans his words carefully. If not for his history with the man, there was no doubt that it’d sound like he was talking to an informant, detached from normal conversation and conversing only in codes.

As of the moment, it feels like the god in front of him was speaking in codes as well.

Under scrutiny of an ageless being who has experienced more than him, he doesn’t know what to feel. The crawling feeling of his instincts telling him to be cautious resurfaces, an urgency that he has not felt since he faced the harbingers of the Fatui.

“Am I talking to the god of Mondstadt, or the bard?” He asks flatly. The fleeting thought of the Church reprimanding him for his less than stellar and quite blasphemous attitude passes his mind. They wouldn’t know their god was right there, actually performing in the plaza in front of their Church. “I’m not one for idle chit-chat, nor circular conversations.”

A hum. It sounds like one of the songs he heard in his childhood.

Somehow, that makes him realize that his shoulders are tense. Thankfully, he had finished the wine glasses beforehand, and in his grip was only a towel, crumpled beyond belief.

The throbbing in his head gets worse, and if it wasn’t enough, his chest feels like it’s being stabbed.

There’s no point in working yourself up, Diluc chastises himself crossly, willing his head to get it together. I just need sleep. I need to rest. It’s quiet. I can take advantage of it and sleep early.

He places the rag down, pleased that Venti approached the door on his own stead, rather than asking for his company.

Yet when he stands up and looks at the door, the god is there in one of the chairs that are placed in the front area. Although Venti was just sitting, it felt like an omen for something that would happen to him afterwards.

“Go home, Lord Barbatos.” He finds himself saying. “I am in no need of a companion tonight. Or well, at all. I’m heading home.”

Venti nods, still humming the tune, seemingly ignoring him. Sighing, Diluc locks the door, and is prepared to tell the god to be safe before he comes face-to-face with Venti.

Face-to-face, because the god was currently floating with anemo aiding his ascent. Red disrupts his vision for a second, and Diluc brushes his hair away from his sight.

Startlingly, he realizes that he can see a shimmer of something that looks akin to wings behind the man. The wings of the Anemo Archon, Diluc realizes, and he tries to hide the fact that this is making him anxious to oblivion.

His eyes flicker to the windows of the shops and homes that surround Angel’s Share, and notes that indeed, everyone was inside and probably asleep.

Mondstat’s background noise is muted, and suddenly Diluc has it in his mind all of a sudden: is this why everyone went home early? Was it the archon’s doing? It was as if he was a mere child again, in front of his father. I’m not prepared.

“Hush now,” Barbatos murmurs, as if hearing his thoughts. (Most likely, he did.) “I am here to tell you good luck, Diluc Ragnvindr.”

His breathing halts.

“Keep safe,” the god continues solemnly, power swirling behind his eyes. “Whatever might happen today, may Celestia judge you well.”

With that ominous message, Venti disappears in front of his eyes in a shimmer of feathers.

May Celestia judge you well.

For Archon’s sake, that honestly might be the worst way to bid goodbye to anyone. Diluc wasn’t normally an anxious man, preferring to keep to himself his thoughts and converse less if possible— but that kind of farewell was not normal and disturbed him quite so.

The sight of the Dawn Winery was calming to him, and for a moment, as he sent the employees home earlier than usual, he felt peace.

He takes advantage of the peace and prepares himself for bed.

May Celestia judge you well.

What was that about, he thought, furrowing his eyebrows as he wore his night clothes. Is this where the ‘curse of chivalry’—or whatever Kaeya had called it—pertained to? Celestia was testing him, of all people, for some reason?

Maybe this is where his life ends, because Celestia has heard his musings about the gods. Not that they were ever bad, he knows some people disapprove of the gods more than he did, but maybe it was time. Maybe he had crossed the line of the Heavenly Principles, whatever they were. It wouldn’t be the first time that he went over the line and gained disapproval from others.

The night seemed eerie, almost, and the sound of the eagle that sometimes flew overhead of the estate was heard. Usually, the sound made him smile; now, it feels like a foreboding omen.

He puts his Vision on the tableside, looking at the red of Pyro for a second. It seemed to be pulsing, but he didn’t know if that was because of his lack of sleep, or something else. It looked ominous, though, as it lies on the bedside table. 

As if it was warning him of something.

Great, I’m getting more paranoid as time goes on, he thinks to himself, shaking himself out of his thoughts. He lies on the bed, and forces himself to relax.

Sleep.

I can sleep.

Nothing will happen.

I can sleep.

The searing pain in his chest makes him yell in agony, and the shaking on his shoulder does not help.

He doesn’t know what he’s feeling. It feels like he’s dying and not at the same time—as if disinfectant was poured in an open wound in his chest, and mercilessly done, too. Distantly, he hears several voices filter in, and he tries to open his eyes, he recognizes his head maid and butler. There was Adelinde, and there was Elzer. Adelinde was ordering the man to do something, but Diluc couldn’t hear.

“Master Diluc!” The raised voice of the usually poised woman cut through the haze of his headache. “Master Diluc, tell me, what do you need? What happened? We’re contacting a healer!”

I don’t know, he wants to honestly say, because he didn’t know. I don’t know what’s happening.

A test, a test, a test. That was what Lord Barbatos had told him of, and he doesn’t know why in the fuck Celestia was testing him. Is it his tolerance for pain? Are they waiting for him to curse them out, slander them? He wasn’t an idiot. He wasn’t going to say anything about the kingdom of the gods; he didn’t have a death wish by the hands of the gods.

Whatever this is, he gasps as the pain multiplies, and he bites down his lip in restraint. I will not bow down to this pain, because this is nothing.

Visions of Mondstadt crowd his mind, almost in blinding speed, and he grunts. Is it my loyalty to Mondstadt? I am indebted to this land. This is my home, and if I have to shoulder this pain for them, then I shall. I am not naïve. I will endure for them.

Then, as if he was shocked with electro, his vision whitens.

An unfamiliar hallway appears in his mind, then a room decorated with rich adornments. Four towering thrones on each side, and a ninth one in the middle of it all.

He sees someone appear on the throne, familiar yet not, and a sad smile.

Diluc Ragnvindr, a voice thunders in his mind. Prepare yourself.

He screams in agony.

Unbeknownst to everyone in Mondstadt, who slumbers on peacefully in one of the most serene and peaceful nights of the land, is the blood curdling screams of one of its founders’ sons. A Ragnvindr, stalwart in his protection of the land, was being tested by the authority of Teyvat, with only one to fully understand what it is.

It takes a while for the screams to dissipate, but when it does, the wind is immediately filled with music; one that the head maid and butler of the Dawn Winery realize that helps the young Ragnvindr calm down. They send a prayer of gratitude towards Barbatos, who was closer than they thought.

Barbatos, who stands on a cliff that oversees both the city of Mondstadt and the Dawn Winery. 

In his hand, the lyre that glows ethereally, as he closes his eyes and whispers to the wind.

“The Uncrowned King of Mondstadt has been recognized.”

Chapter Text

The employees of the Dawn Winery, at the strike of noon, concluded that there was something wrong with the young master.

Not that it was ever stated outright, but his movements—his general flow of a day’s activities—were immediately postponed once the sun rose up during the day.

It starts with the young master being ill.

Adelinde had delivered the news; it seemed like Master Diluc had contracted something enough to warrant bedrest. While him being absent was nothing new—they did hold down the fort when he went on his sojourn trip—there was a certain difference in knowing that he was sick. Diluc Ragnvindr, especially to those that knew of him in his childhood, would always be up and about even when he was sick.

Thus, the unfortunate outcome of a single plea: gossip.

Dawn Winery employees were prone to gossip, by virtue of their job. Traveling to different nations meant that they always had interesting stories to tell; Connor always seemed to have an employee who would talk about how our wine sold so much in Fontaine, it’s insane how we get many customers there with all their champagne, and the next second talk about the latest gadget that Fontaine scientists were developing, such as when he quite literally told Master Diluc that they’ve got this interesting gadget they call the ‘Kamera’ right before it was released to anyone else.

Now, the gossip circulating the winery was that somehow, Master Diluc Ragnvindr was turning into a vampire.

“I’m what?” Diluc coughs, rubbing his chest as Adelinde helps his skin to cool off with an iced towel. The shudder that passes through him is nothing short of an earthquake. “How in the—how in Teyvat did that happen?”

“To be fair for our employees,” Adelinde murmurs, and Diluc knows that there is a smile on her face despite not looking at her directly, “—this is one of their milder conclusions. Besides, we’ve heard the occasional vampire story here and there, haven't we not?”

It was indeed one of the milder gossips that has ever circulated in the winery; Diluc still remembers, and knows, that the cannibalism gossip that two of his maids entertain on the daily basis has kept them up at night. Not that it was ever his prerogative to let them suffer the consequences of their active imagination when they were supposed to be working, but Diluc could be petty. Sometimes.

“Vampire? They should be more worried about them turning into werewolves with all of Wolvendom being there,” Diluc mutters under his breath, drawing out a chuckle from his eldest and trusted head maid. “Ridiculous.”

“Not so much.”

“It is.”

“Is it?” Adelinde teases, a smile lighting up her features. It was not often that Diluc would entertain her, but both she and Diluc know that she was one of the people privy to his more childish side nowadays. She continues to dab the cold towel through his heated skin, the smile turning into a concerned frown. “Oh dear,” she murmurs. “I told you…”

“It’s alright, Adelinde,” Diluc reassures, knowing her thought process. “This really might just be a normal fever, nothing too serious.”

The towel on his skin stops to a halt. “And last night?”

Diluc gazes up at her, always being brave enough to do so even when he was a little boy who accidentally tattered the nice curtains. Diluc knows that both he and Adelinde had been thinking about the previous night, even if he requested that they won’t. He wasn’t kidding anyone, of course—if anything, he wanted to ask Adelinde what in Archons happened amidst the pain that enveloped him as he laid on the bed—but the words couldn’t come out of his mouth.

The next thing he knew was that he woke up, drenched in sweat, running a high fever.

“I don’t feel any of the pain that I think I should feel right now, Adelinde,” he says honestly, and Adelinde nods, despite the low tone. “No headaches. No chest aches. Nothing.”

“The fever?”

“Just an elevated temperature,” Diluc murmurs, turning the previous night’s events over and over in his mind. “Other than that, no.”

Archons , his throat—which he thought would feel like it would’ve been brought to almost sandpaper-likeness from how he screamed himself hoarse the night before—was strangely fine. As for why, he still did not know. Not even Adelinde knew, and neither the healer from Springvale did. It was as if a strange illness has descended upon him, and him only.

The two descend into a few minutes of silence, the only noise reaching their ears being the wringing of a towel in cold water, and the occasional shout of a worker asking for help in transporting things. Per his request, business would be manned by Elzer, and there was no need to delay anything except his prior engagements, which there were only two and had already been approved to be moved. Not that it was strange for his business colleagues to be amiable in changing scheduled meetings, but it wasn’t as if it was normal.

Kind of a miracle, really, Diluc wonders as he rubs his sternum mindlessly.

He lets out a little tsk when Adelinde moves the shutters and filters in the morning light, but then burns in embarrassment when he knows what the following tease would be.

“This is why people think you’re a vampire.” She points out, and Diluc grumbles. “Oh, don’t complain. Look at you, brooding once again, getting lost in your thoughts. You’ve really gotten accustomed to the dark, haven’t you?”

“It’s normal to just not blindside people with the sun,” Diluc grumbles, sitting upright and taking the towel in his hands. “As for the thinking—do people not think by themselves anymore? There’s no need to fill up silences with the inanest of conversations.”

“Inane, hm?”

Diluc’s eyes flit to Adelinde in amusement, spotting the equally-entertained smile on hers. “You know what I mean.”

“I do, but still,” she pauses. “What happened last night... Master Diluc, you know that I will be here to listen, yes? Even when you were a young boy, you’ve always been hard to pull out from your thoughts. I’m no Master K—…”

Diluc quietens as she trails off unsurely.

“…but I can be of help.” She decides to say instead, head bowed down. “Master Diluc, you are quite the stress in my life, but I would not have it any other way. So please know that I’m here.”

Gratitude burns in his chest. As much as he had dealt the woman with her graying hairs, she was still the woman who had been there throughout his life, almost standing as his second mother in how she took care of him—and keeps taking care of him. His sudden fever and previous night’s circumstances most likely made her more paranoid than usual.

Diluc, more than anything, is an honest individual (in terms of knowing what things should be told, that is; no one really needed to know why he chose to fight for Mondstadt at night, though his Knights of Favonius are quite inefficient stance had always compensated for his real reasons) and out of all the people in his life, he knew that the head maid would be one of his most trusted.

He knows what she hopes he should do, but he’s going to do his best to do it before contacting anyone else.

He sighs, and looks out the window, watching as the trees rustle in the wind. “I will tell you…and him, eventually, when I understand what happened to me specifically, Adelinde, I promise.”

She smiles, equal gratitude and happiness in her eyes.

“But you know, my temperature is too hot to be a vampire if anything.”

The slap to his shoulder was not warranted, but Diluc could forgive it for the relieved smile on her face.

Vampire gossip aside, the next part that eventually would lead them to another gossip chain is the fact that the young master, at the strike of noon, suddenly storms out of the winery, eyes blazing and bright.

The master had always been known to be powerful, but his fierceness—felt especially when fighting, which everyone knew about here— was amplified.

Is amplified, if the unnatural heat that seems to accompany the man was any indication.

“Master Diluc,” Elzer exclaims behind him, following the path that Diluc was walking on. The people he encounters were noticeably either extremely alert or tense, and admittedly, it was affecting everyone, not that Diluc knew it was because of him personally. “Why are you out of your bed? I thought you were supposed to be in bedrest?”

Diluc takes a second to answer him, but he blinks rapidly—a telltale sign of someone using Elemental Sight to see traces of something in the air. However, to others that could see him, it seemed like he was bewildered about being called.

The out-of-place reaction would’ve raised others’ worries for him already, but unbeknownst to Diluc, the higher-than-normal temperature surrounding Diluc himself was already a dead giveaway. As if to further hammer home that there was something wrong, Adelinde, one of the more composed employees of the winery, suddenly comes running down the path of the vineyard to where they were, concern practically pouring out of her—heightening their suspicions even more.

Adelinde immediately shakes her head no, and Diluc’s jaw immediately tenses when he spots Elzer and some of the winery workers basically become worried about the situation at hand. A curse passes under Diluc’s breath, and he rubs the bridge of his nose.

“Everyone,” he says, raising his voice in a moderate volume. It does its job at quelling the questioning murmurs of those who can hear him. “I’m searching for something that I might have misplaced last night. There’s no need to concern yourselves over my plight.”

“Are you sure, sir?”

“Yes. There is no need for you all to be concerned with what I am doing; admittedly I am more irate than usual, please do excuse me. You can return to your jobs.”

“What’s this about something being missing?” Magar, one of the warehouse workers, asks out loud. “We might be able to help, Master Diluc!”

“Master Diluc, another pair of eyes won’t hurt you; I’m sure we can aid you even without disrupting our workflow.” Ernest pipes up from behind him, though it earns a scoff from Connor. The man sends a glare to somewhere Diluc doesn’t deign himself to look at.

Diluc blinks, furrowing his eyebrows. “I just said—“

He sees the cautious gaze that Adelinde was sending him, and he cuts his statement short. As much as he tried not to be overly concerned with how his workers perceived him, he still wants to maintain a dignity and respect for him and his employees, just like his father once did.

A breeze wafts by them, making him look up to the employees that had already surrounded him. There was more than he was comfortable with, but everyone who was with him were people that have worked with the Ragnvindrs and the winery for a long time. Even his father trusted them in many matters.

I could do it on my own, he thinks to himself, looking at his waist, then thinks about the futile search that he had with his Elemental Sight.

He shakes his head.

“I’m capable of doing the search on my own, there is no need to worry.” He bows his head in respect. “Please, return to your jobs. I shall be grateful if all of you heed my request.”

Diluc had heard of the Vision Hunt Decree in Inazuma; the Fatui were strangely enamored by the whole fiasco. He was not an idiot to think that they were merely interested, since they’ve always had the pattern of taking advantage of the weak—especially with those Delusions and the Harbingers’ whole goal. Dottore comes to mind; his blasted experiments to Vision Holders and kids still makes him feel like there is ash in his mouth.

It was easy to tout the Fatui as the potential thieves in this scenario, but that might be his second step in pointing out who might have taken his Vision. The first step, of course, is to actually evaluate his steps if he did, somehow, lose his Vision as he had returned to the winery the night before.

However, try as he might, the winds were messing up any kind of elemental trace of his pyro element, his Sight becoming a conglomeration of elemental strings from crystal flies and slimes.

He shields his face from his hair, squinting at the uncharacteristic strong winds.

What in the Anemo Archon’s name is happening? He wonders, getting increasingly flustered in annoyance. What is with this day?

Normally, the winds around the winery were cool and calm, just the right setting for the grapes to grow in. This was, after all, the winery that was blessed by the Anemo Archon himself so that the temperature and climate would just be ideal for the grapes to grow in; from the cool downdraft of Dragonspine Mountain, to the mixture of hot Liyuen weather to the cooler river from the mountain, the only times that the winery had a problem was due to snow or strong rainfall.

A strange howling noise reaches his ears, and it’s only a second later when the stronger gust of winds hit him from where he was standing that he registers them. The cries of surprise of the winery employees breaks him from his motionless state as he sees the winds whip around the winery, uncharacteristically strong.

“Get inside the winery!” He orders loudly, and everyone that he sees in his line of sight, either clutching on trees or on the vineyard structures, responds in different ways. Not that he could understand anyone from the winds, but he was glad that they seemed to get his message and started to move towards the building.

He stops and looks off to the wayside. Out of any house in the vicinity, the winery was the most fortified against calamities. However, there was one house that he knew would be occupied because the old man was a stubborn one.

He runs towards Old Tunner’s house and is relieved when the elder waves at him, as if the strong winds weren’t literally whipping around his small vineyard. 

Diluc blinks and groans— Mondstadt citizens are always in the extremes, and as always, Old Tunner tries to beat us in that area.

“Young master!” The elder greets jovially. “What brings you here today?”

“ Tunner!”

“Oh, alright, alright,” Old Tunner placates, moving near him. Diluc makes sure that his feet are planted on the ground with each step, arm circled around the old man to aid him against the winds. “Quite the day we're having, haven’t we?”

The laugh that escapes his lips is full of exasperation, though he'd prefer not to chat amidst a literal tornado. “It could be better.”

“Been a while since I’ve seen this kind of weather here as well! Why, I’ll be…last time we had this weather, we thought the Pyro Archon gave us a personal visit!”

He looks at him in surprise and shouts over the howling winds. “This has happened before?”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t remember! It was one of those days after you’ve got your Vision, after all!”

Diluc wills himself to walk up the path, even if the information stunned him. He refuses to acknowledge that the path he was moving in was somehow calmer than the winds that seemed to surround them in a circular manner. “What—what do you mean?”

“This kind of weather is more prominent in those rainforests, like in Sumeru, young master, but it happens once in a while after some rain, a really hot weather, and next thing you’ll know, the winds are angrier than Lord Barbatos’ winds himself!”

“But it didn’t rain,” Diluc says, relieved as they reach the cemented section of the winery.

“I’m no weather expert—ask those storm watchers like Lady Vind in Starsnatch Cliff for those kinds of questions.” Old Tunner nods, pointing to where his Vision would have been. “Like I said, same as you getting your Vision when you were young. That little thing caused you to get really excited; always believed that emotions heightened your Vision, or something across those lines. Your father immediately brought you down the lake to cool down; you were bringing this really high temperature that basically kickstarted the same weather we’re experiencing right now.”

Diluc looks towards the river just at the end of the road, and realizes that the old man was talking about the small house that they had near the river. Father said it was our little get-away vacation spot, Diluc remembers, the familiar clench in his heart making itself known whenever he remembers his father. And… huh.

Father did always bring me there when I felt sick.

“Elzer,” he turns his head towards the winery head, who looks at him with rapt attention. “I need to retreat to our old house. Please look after the winery till this weather ceases. And please,” he whistles loudly, and raises his arm. The telltale call of his bird sounds loud, even with the howling noise, and he nods in approval when the hawk lands on his arm. “Get me a pen and paper—I need to contact Charles.”

Usually, the walk towards the river is short and uneventful; but with the accompanying swirl of winds that seems to be centering on him, the scream that registered in his mind was almost normal.

Yet, a second after the yell reaches his ears, he realizes he’s heard it the day before. To his further surprise, two other voices started to be heard as well, and he started to follow the voices.

“You stuck bad! No fly in strong winds!”

“Hast thou ever thought of listening to the experienced?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know but—oh, hey! Master Diluc! Hi!”

Diluc blinks, realizing who had just spoken to him—and where he was.

“Bennett?” He murmurs, moving to the side. The figure in the trees gives him what might look like a thumbs-up gesture, but he couldn’t really tell. “What are you doing here? Actually—what are you doing there?”

And Razor is here as well, he notices the young Wolvendom boy trying to climb the tree without stepping anywhere near Bennett.

“Bennett fly in strong wind,” Razor says, and now he seems to be equally stuck on a different branch. “Said super dangerous. Didn’t listen.”

“I didn’t know it would fly me away!”

And, if Bennett’s… situation isn’t already a confusing one, another person shows up next to the tree where Bennett had entangled himself in—one that Diluc vaguely realizes he has seen around Mondstadt, but has not personally interacted with. A kid with an electro vision— what’s her name again?

“The ill-starred fellow that I traverse these lands with has met an unfortunate encounter with the guardians of this estate,” the girl exclaims, and Diluc watches as a large bird—strangely made of electro, if he’s seeing things right—descends next to Bennett and starts pulling him. “Alas! The gods have, once again, decreed that this shall be—”

“Right,” Diluc nods, not caring if it cuts her… speech short. Bennett seems to be precariously hung over the ridiculous branches—Diluc didn’t even know that the cedar trees near their area even twisted that way. It must have been due to his attempts to wiggle his way out that he had entangled himself further. 

If the kid literally had a legendary curse of bad luck, there was a high chance that one of the more vicious birds of Mondstadt would suddenly swoop down and injure him further.

“Hey,” Diluc mutters as he walks closer to the tree and makes an indent for him to climb on. “Can I ask for your assistance so that he wouldn’t fall and injure himself badly?”

The girl blinks and flushes at the same time. “Oh! Uh, yes, um, wait, sir, oh, Oz! Can you—”

“I’m trying, Mein Fraulein, but he is—”

“It’s okay Mister Oz! I can—"

Diluc winces when the electro-bird accidentally pecks Bennett’s leg. He doesn’t even register the shock from hearing the bird seemingly speak when he darts to the other side of the tree and catches Bennett in time, though by his shorts.

A beat passes before Razor chimes in with a, “Nice catch, Diluc.”

Diluc levels Razor a deadpan stare as he raises Bennett upwards. The smile doesn’t placate him nor amuse him in any way, and Bennett seems to sense it. “At least you’re not quite bleeding from a fall like that.”

“Sorry, Mister Diluc.” Bennett scratches the back of his head in apology. “I know you’re super sick or something, but I’m thankful that you were here just in time.”

Sick? He mouths, furrowing his eyebrows. How did they…

Fischl does an odd stance, then twirls to show him a bag. “An endeavor of the most high, your ails and woes that has been heard from the highest of places have reached the ears of your mighty constituents, Master Ragnvindr, and we are here to deliver the cures of your hardships.”

He’s about to decipher what in Archons the kid just said when Oz butts in to translate her words once again. “Mein Fraulein means to say that Razor here has heard of you… being sick, and decided to call for Sir Bennett’s assistance. Mein Fraulein was with him and she is quite connected to the healers of Mondstadt, and now we are here to bring you medicine.”

“By the way, I don’t think we’ve introduced ourselves, Master Ragnvindr,” Oz lowers then raises a little in the air, which Diluc interprets as some kind of bird bow in the air. “Ozvaldo von Hrafnavines, but you can call me Oz.”

“And I, Fischl, Prinsezzin der Verurteilung, Sovereign of Immernachtreich, omniscient and eminent judge of all the world’s inequity!” Fischl takes another stance again. “Greetings, Master Ragnvindr!”

“Huh,” Diluc says, because he doesn’t even know how to respond to that. 

The awkwardness is thankfully abated by Razor, who seems to be stuck with his “illness”. He gets the bag of medicine from Fischl’s hand and gives it to him directly, placing it on his lap. 

Bennett grins at the action, as if Diluc wasn’t still wondering if he should rather use the medicine on the kid rather than him.

“Medicine.” Razor states, looking at him. “Heard you shout. Last night. Loud. Asked grape people. You sick, bed.”

Oh, Diluc realizes, long used to Razor’s speech. Wolvendom. And my employees accidentally leaked details of my condition to others, though I guess Razor isn’t quite the random stranger.

“I’m okay, Razor,” he placates, just like he did with Adelinde earlier; today, it seemed like he was calming down everyone that seemed really invested in his health. “I just had… a really awful nightmare last night, after all.”

The Wolvendom boy’s eyes narrow in suspicion, but as always in talking to kids—or to anyone, really—Diluc’s straightforwardness, together with his rather deadpan look, made his statements either believable or irrefutable. It always seemed to work with Razor, whenever the kid asks why Diluc keeps patrolling around Wolvendom towards Mondstadt at night; there wasn’t any need to tell the kid that he was basically a night owl and he found peace in fighting enemies under the light of the moon.

“Those must have been pretty bad nightmares if you were shouting enough for Razor to hear.” Bennett says, unknowingly helping in his endeavor to make his statement a bit more believable. “I mean, I’ve woken up shouting sometimes. It’s really not cool when they kind of just trap you in the dream.” He shudders. “I hope someone woke you up, Master Diluc.”

Diluc nods, pushing himself onto a standing position. “Fortunately, yes.”

He pauses as the four of them just look at one another. Razor cocks his head at him, Bennett looks expectant, and Fischl places her hands on her hips; he internally winces at how the other three look as if they were expecting for him to say something.

Am I supposed to say something else? Diluc thinks to himself, grimacing. I mean, how do I say that they should go away already and be safe in their homes?

He could almost hear Kaeya’s words. The mighty Diluc Ragnvindr, fells his enemies with one strike of his greatsword, felled by trying to interact with youths. I’m glad that there are no Fatui that know about your weakness; even they would’ve cringed by your lack of communication skills with kids.

The urge to mix his Death After Noon with grape juice rises, but Diluc quells the thought. It’s not as if Kaeya actually knew he was messing up talking to these three—though by his experience, he probably would, somehow.

“Has the world’s patterns regale the land of this intensity?”   Fischl suddenly says, barreling over his thoughts, squinting at the strong winds that seemed to circle the winery. “Throughout my life in the Land of Mond, the breezes were merely the flap of a bird’s wings—not more than a caress, or a whisper of nature. Yet now the gales that blow here are…”

Razor cocks his head. “Swirly. Like twisting. But big.”

“Indeed,” Diluc nods. “Which is why I think you need to leave the Winery’s premises—”

“Not anymore,” Razor continues. “Winds calmer. Not angry. You sick. We help.”

“I must concede with Razor; there is no telling of what obstacles one might encounter from here to your destination, Master Ragnvindr,” Fischl pipes up, barreling over his thoughts. “Let us accompany you to ensure your safety from any of Teyvat’s adversaries. None can truly say what life might throw at you; all we know as of now is that the path can be dangerous without our help.”

The statement makes him blink. “No, see—“

“There’s also a rumor of a vampire here,” Fischl decides to state out of the blue, unknowingly making Diluc’s inner dialogue turn to a cacophony of groaning in exhaustion over his employees’ lack of filter. “Though, I did hear it might actually be you, Master Ragnvindr?”

“Please call me Diluc,” he says, feeling emotionally tired, but Fischl vetoes it, adamantly posing to tell him that no, not happening. “And there’s no vampire here.”

Razor nods. “Vampire bad.”

“Vampires are real?” Bennett echoes, eyes wide. “Whoa, I thought they were just made-up stories?”

“They are,” Diluc deadpans. He recalls the Traveler’s thoughts about how children were more susceptible to imaginary friends—he didn’t have those, and he didn’t ever really think that vampires and werewolves were real, despite the adepti and elemental beings existing. Surely, it was still made up? He didn’t just miss a section of actual history unfolding in front of him in the last two nights?

What in Archons am I thinking, Diluc sighs to himself, and sighs even louder when Fischl starts nodding.

“In my world, vampires and werewolves exist in harmony,” Fischl says, flourishing her words with a certain lilt that made Diluc question his life choices. “Maybe in Teyvat, they are the same. Hostility may come from misunderstandings, which leads to a wrought affair with the wronged.” Her eyes widen, and she spins to look at Diluc with the most surprise ever leveled at him. “Oh, dear Archons! Don’t tell me, were you turned, Master Ragnvindr?”

“We’re getting off-track, Mein Fraulein,” Oz says all of a sudden, and Diluc has never been more thankful for a lightning manifestation with its own voice. Then, it looks at him. “Master Ragnvindr, can we be of service, or is this an endeavor you would like to tackle on your own?”

“On my own, thank you,” Diluc says, moving towards the direction of the winery. He ignores the protests of the three, but he shakes his head. “…However, you did go through the trouble of going to deliver medicine for me, and it’s only good manners for me to thank you for looking out for me, Razor, Bennett, Fischl, Oz.”

Fischl’s eye brightens up, for some reason, and Oz perches on her shoulder as if pleased. About what, Diluc didn’t know, but he doesn’t dwell on it any further in favor of walking towards the winery.

They arrive in the small house half an hour later, and Razor keeps looking at the grapes. He could hear Bennett scolding him, but he was more interested in how Fischl was looking around the area, intimately interested.

He leads them to the dining table and urges them to sit, silently thanking that Elzer—or most likely, Adelinde—kept the house well in-stock. He peers in and nods to himself when he sees a stock of grape juice inside, and a few meats just enough to make grilled steak. He pulls them out and kick starts the stove, and blinks when Fischl starts looking around the cabinets for pans.

“I’ve never been personally around here before,” Fischl says, awe laced in her voice. She heads towards the sink. “Is this truly the Dawn Winery, one of Tevyat’s greatest wine manufacturers?”

“It is,” Diluc confirms, amused at Razor fidgeting in his seat. No matter how many times the young Wolvendom boy came to the premises, he always had the urge to run around and sit on the ground. He turns his gaze back at Fischl, though he reaches for the salt and pepper. “You wouldn’t be hard-pressed on taking it down, would you?”

Fischl laughs. “Oh, no, Master Ragnvindr. I have heard of the Cat’s Tail’s bartender—Diona—and her quest to take down the wine industry, and even then it is quite a misunderstanding. A large misunderstanding, really. I do believe that is—pardon me, if I am presuming beyond your bounds, that is—the liquid in your hands. Is it not grape juice?”

“That it is,” he says, a smile threatening to break out of his lips when Fischl claps and remarks, truly amazing!

“Diluc smile,” Razor observes, and Fischl and Bennet looks at him in excitement. “Red burny girl should see it.”

“Archons,” he mutters, turning around, focusing on the steak he was cooking.

“Aw man, I knew you guys would like each other!” Bennett exclaims,

He’s forgotten how kids are like, and the winds outside seem to mirror his flustered state. I really need to control that somehow, he thinks to himself, though Bennett’s remark doesn’t help.

After a few minutes of listening to idle chatter of the three—Bennett talking about how he felt like he was getting sucked in a super tornado and he got flung towards the tree, Razor saying that it sounded like a samachurl move, and Fischl remarking about how even Oz wouldn’t have flown in the weather—he sets the steaks on their plates.

“Meat, very good,” Razor agrees, and Bennett gives him a thumbs-up from a mouthful.

“I see this is quite a simple dish, but the seasoning is exquisite! Master Ragnvindr, I am quite pleased.” Fischl exclaims, nodding at her steak and grape juice. “Truly a great host for the Prinsezzin and her constituents! Though it does not help your narrative that you might not be a vampire, Master Ragnvindr.”

Diluc rubs his fingers on his temples, settling down to the end of the table. Mondstadt’s gossip truly does not disappoint, huh.

“Though I wonder why Miss Lisa actually asked if you were okay.” Fischl murmurs to herself as she hums, slicing the steak and feeding the fat to Oz. “I did not even know the context! Though when we met our dear friend here, all became clear.”

“Context matters,” Razor agrees in a somewhat robotic tone, as if he was just reciting the words of another person, which he might be—Lisa, after all, was his mentor. “Helps spells. Fights better.”

“Oh, is that how you got better in your electro? Because that’s so cool, sometimes I ask the knights to help me with my sword work but it always ends up in a disaster…”

Diluc would’ve been listening (and lamenting about Bennett’s continued curse) even if he was bored about the conversation, but his mind was stuck with what Fischl has said.

There was an insinuation in Lisa asking about his condition. It wasn’t as if there wasn’t enough time for news to travel to Mondstadt at that rate, but Lisa was not one to lend an ear to people’s chatter; she isn’t one for rumors, and prefers to stay in the Knights’ residence in the library.

She must have known what happened last night. Diluc absently rubs his chest at the phantom pain in his sternum. But how?

Try as he might to think of another answer, the only thing that he could muster was a very impossible, but not improbable , possibility that Lisa knew something about what had happened the night before. It made sense that Razor knew, due to Wolvendom’s proximity to the Dawn Winery, but Lisa shouldn’t have known anything at all.

Added to the fact that it wasn’t as if they asked one another’s disposition usually. There must be a reason why Lisa had said it to Fischl in particular.

She might be able to help, he thinks apprehensively. Though I don't think I need to tell other people... she might know.

“Miss Fischl, Razor,” he says, getting the attention of the three teens. Razor places his plate down, eyes alert, and Fischl looks at him curiously. “I would like to request a favor from you…”

Miraculously, the event of the young master hosting three teens in the winery and actually escorting them out of the winery does not breach the winery’s borders. Unknown to him, however, the workers—who had come to check up on the young master after the winds died down— were very amused and delighted at the youths that managed to quell his initial frustration; it did not help that the three teens were actually quite the group.

It also did not help that Diluc looks very resigned and exhausted, but not the kind of weariness and melancholy that hung on his shoulders ever since that fated day. Adelinde personally knew how the young master’s mood affected his employees; moreso in the present, now that the issue of his lost Vision was known to some of the workers.

Diluc watches as Adelinde’s smile softens, and he furrows his eyebrows in interest.

“I just did not expect you to be so amiable to them,” Adelinde confesses, helping in arranging Diluc’s room for his inevitable stay in the house. “It reminds me of…”

She trails off, and Diluc shrugs. He knows what she means. The last time he was ever “amiable” to people that he didn’t need to rub elbows with, was unfortunately years ago. Sure, he treats everyone respectfully, but his straight-forwardness was not for everyone—it was more common that his need to do things as fast as possible was seen as rudeness. Efficiency had been pummeled into him in his three years; reaching out to people and conversing with them was as foreign to him as his past self.

“It’s not as if there wasn’t any miscommunication.” He murmurs, shuddering internally at how the three continually tried to push him to talk, even if he gave short answers. The three didn’t seem to mind. “Besides, I’ve known Razor for a while. Bennett is a bit… well, he takes things too well. Miss Fischl is… strange, but I’ve seen worse.”

“The weather became different for a bit when they arrived; it wasn’t exactly weak, but it did tone down.” Adelinde tells him, and Diluc hums; he had noticed. “Though that…”

She gestures to the column of wind swirling just outside the house, strangely as if it was a barrier around it. What made it worse, unfortunately, was that not only was it a column of wind, but it was a column of wind and fire. Bennett, Razor and Fischl had been in awe when they saw it form— a magnificent showmanship of your prowess, Master Ragnvindr, was Fischl’s exact words, and Diluc didn’t really know how to refute the awe in her tone.

“I don’t know why that formed,” Diluc shakes his head. “But I’ll do my best to tone it down. I’ll find a way to control it.”

“Do you think it’s responding to your emotions?” Adelinde wonders, looking at it as it burns. “Or maybe it’s a way of protection, like Old Mondstadt?”

“Like Decarabian’s winds?”

“It does seem like it.”

“Then I don’t know why it’s showing up.” Diluc shakes his head. “I don’t know, if my lost Vision and… this, all of this, is connected, Adelinde. The last time I didn’t have my Vision, it was… well, I left it with the knights. I didn’t have Pyro.”

“During that time, I wielded another…weapon.” The feeling of the cursed Delusion wrapped around his hand was almost a phantom reminder of his absence from Mondstadt. “I don’t think I ever lost control. But Old Tunner told me there was that time when I got my Vision and basically did the same thing. Perhaps the lack of a regulator…” Diluc shakes his head. “But according to the Vision Hunt Decree, that kind of reaction did not occur. Feelings and Vision abilities spiraling out of control isn’t an after effect. I unfortunately don’t know why this is happening.”

“Have you tried to control it?”

“Why would I? I don’t think I’ve ever…” Diluc faces the window, and shakes his head. “I think it doesn’t even have any merit. If anything, I just need to wait till this fever abates, and somehow the weather will turn out okay. The columns of wind… I might need help in that regard.”

The Anemo Archon would easily be contacted, anyway. He might have answers.

“Still, you should try,” Adelinde urges. “I believe we don't even understand much about Visions, Master Diluc. If it started with your Vision being removed from your person, it might work.”

He relents, knowing that the woman won’t stop requesting; besides, the idea might work. Might, being the operative word, but he did want to see what in Archons would even abate the columns of wind. Additionally, she was right, of course; humans didn't know much about the Visions that they wielded.

Who knows if the idea will work?

“…Fine. I’ll try. Get inside.”

He watches as she secures herself into the house, and he looks up the columns of wind. The red-and-orange hues of pyro, colored with the natural bluish-greenish color of anemo, and the rapid towering blasts as it spins to cover the small house.

For the love of Barbatos…or maybe Decarabian, he thinks to himself, untensing his shoulders. Please quell this column of wind. It’s ridiculous.

He waits for a few seconds before sighing, still feeling the heat of the fire column. I don’t know if anything will happen, he thinks, as he looks at his waist, where his Vision would usually hang. But I’ll give it a try.

Everything that has happened today… it is with me. It involves me—it is not a natural phenomenon.

It’s time that I try to take it into my own hands, even if I don’t know if it will affect anything.

Whatever these things are… this overheating that is affecting the winery and everything near it, whoever took my Vision, let it not be the burden of others. Let it be my burden.

A strong, burning feeling pulses from his chest, and he clenches his hand into a fist. He ignores Adelinde’s shout of fear.

Like wielding the element with my Vision, he reminds himself. Just how I first wielded the element of pyro.

He breathes in deeply and exhales.

To me.

He puts his hand through the barrier, feeling the raging swirls—but he doesn’t falter as he feels the wind and fire wrap around his hand.

Another pulse rings from his chest.

Be in my command.

A warm heat explodes in front of him, as if a bomb set off in front of him; the blast releases a gust of air that whips through his hair haphazardly. 

Without a second thought, he reaches out to summon his claymore, stabbing it on the ground to give himself leverage. The earth continues to shake, wind and fire swirling beneath his feet. 

“Cease.”

He opens his eyes as the columns of wind slam down to the ground. It expels outwards in a strong blast, then calms down into smaller columns of fire on the ground. 

Diluc wedges his claymore out of the ground, and points it towards the small columns. The columns respond to his gesture by brightening, then returning to their original sizes.

Adelinde, who was walking towards him, watches the little display with widened eyes.

“I didn’t think…how…?” She whispers, as she walks the path. “But your Vision…”

The two of them stare at the almost reverent placing of the small columns of fire towards the house, as if they carried a graver message that they could not decipher.

“Celestia help you,” Adelinde prays, putting her hands together, her voice shaking. “May the Anemo Archon bless you with clarity, Master Diluc. Lord Barbatos, please…”

Diluc purses his lips in doubt, watching as she prays. He looks at the small columns of fire, and rubs his sternum, an answer to everything that has happened to him forming in his mind—something unbelievable, especially to him, that he doesn’t want to acknowledge.

Celestia help me, huh.

Diluc looks at his hand.

He recalls the feeling of flames encircling his hand, the winds whipping in his hair, the peace he felt as he connected to the elements–sensations not new to him, but didn’t feel the same as before. The sensation of warming that ran from his center, to his whole body.

Will they answer one’s prayer if they are the reason for it happening, or will they turn a blind eye upon it?

He needs to know.

He needs to know why him.

Chapter Text

“Lastly, our Outrider got some intel that there is movement around Stormbearer Mountains again, and I’d send others but…”

“No worries, Master Jean, I understand that my services are sometimes coveted in these times.” 

“Captain Kaeya.”

“Acting Grandmaster.”

The amused look that Jean sends him makes Kaeya smile as he spins the tassel of his coat. Not one to just let a tease slide, he raises his eyebrow. “I’m surprised that Outrider Amber asked for my help. She usually doesn’t like handing off her targets to anyone else, especially me.”

Jean shakes her head, seemingly hearing the tease beneath his words. “She’s told me that there had been activity even beforehand, and even Razor has sensed disturbances in the hilichurl activities. She says it’s worth looking into, but wouldn’t pursue it because it’s most likely led by Hydro Abyss mages and samachurls.”

“Ah, cryo as the most effective dispatch then, no wonder. I thought that I’ve finally connected with her. As for the other activities, I’ll just take my leave—” 

The door opens, cutting Kaeya’s inquiry short. He doesn’t blink an eye when the aforementioned Amber pops into view, though he does step back to look at the potential intruder. Seeing that the Outrider is probably too engrossed with whatever she had to tell Jean– and judging from the furrowed brows sent his way, he was an unexpected entity as of the moment–he sends her a smile. 

Hopefully it conveys that he was very much interested in their conversation, since he was the one being sent to track down the mage, after all.

Amber seems to figure out the silent message, and narrows her eyes for a fraction of a second.  

“Grandmaster Jean, Sir Kaeya,” Amber greets as she looks away, cheerfully as ever– as if the suspicious look levied at him was nothing. He sends a look at Jean, who rolls her eyes. 

Finding the dismissal pretty unjustified, he places his hand on his chest in mock pain and mouths, I’m hurt . The Acting Grandmaster just shakes her head at the acting, and Kaeya stands back to his original and looser stance. He is in front of his superior, after all. 

Then again, he also had a duty to tease Amber for her wild theories about his activities, so he addresses her immediately afterwards despite knowing that he’d be reprimanded later. 

“Outrider, shift hasn’t started yet? Or did we once again spot a flying criminal?” Jean hides a smile under her mouth at the jab; the infamous Raptor was an ongoing inside joke for Amber’s flying recklessness and unconventional test for the Traveler. It was basically every protocol broken but legally and illegally at the same time– all under Mondstadt’s best flier’s guidance. 

The Outrider huffs, and Kaeya laughs airily. “Now, now, I’m just joking. Why do you always look so fired up when we meet? Or is that just every pyro user that I know? Bennett’s like that, and we all know how someone is infinitely more…”

“Uhuh.” Amber eyes him with a look that he couldn’t decipher– was it a protective glance? That was interesting. “I’m always ready to do something, Sir Kaeya, I assure you it’s not because of you…it’s just, well– nevermind.” 

Amber puts her hands on her waist and looks at Jean. “It was nothing of urgency anyway, Grandmaster Jean. I can tell you later whenever possible.”

“Of course, maybe after my meeting with Guy?”

Amber nods and salutes to both of them, exiting the room in a rather brisk pace. Kaeya turns around to say something, but falters when sees Jean with a raised eyebrow.

“Do you always point out how passionate pyro users are? I know we all have our theories on why we got our Visions, but that was very blunt, even for you.”

“I think it’s very healthy to engage in small talk.”

“I think even Amber could spot your jab to Diluc a kilometer away,” Jean snorts. “And you wonder why she’s like that towards you.”

“I’m like this towards everyone, but look at her,” Kaeya nods to the door. “Sharp girl, but terribly out to get me. She seems more jittery than usual; I chalked it up to her ridiculously excitable nature like any pyro user, but she definitely was hiding something…”

“That’s because you tease her all the time and call her Outrider even outside work hours. Then you aggravate her by being dubious of her general work ethic.” Kaeya shrugs in acquiescence, because… well, yeah. That was how he presented himself to people. It wasn’t as if he was actively doing it out of maliciousness– he believes Amber does it in jest as well. 

The tap of the pen on the table makes him blink towards the serious look on Jean’s face. “But of all people, Sir Kaeya, don’t be suspicious of Amber . I caught that.”

“It’s always important to be aware of what she does, you know.”

“And she never does anything except for the safety of Mondstadt,” Jean pointedly looks at him. “It’s just how they are–how she is. Very dedicated to what they do.”

“Pyro users,” Kaeya muses fondly. They truly were a different breed. “Alright, I hear your point.” In a higher tone, he mimics Jean. “Sir Kaeya, the Knights of Favonius must keep working hard. That means you; go and be efficient.”

Jean laughs now, more outright than the snickering she’s done for the past few minutes. “The last part is definitely not me.”

“You and him are very much the same in that regard, efficiency and all that. I mean, did you hear his latest tirade of helping people? If I didn't think Miss Donna was head over heels over Diluc before, she certainly is now.”

The acting grandmaster just shakes her head. "I bet that Master Diluc would've been quite embarrassed if he ever heard the things she said earlier..."

"That is very much true." Kaeya laughs as he turns around. “Well, I’ll be off. No more other reminders for today? Just an old track and dispose order? No special orders before I disappear for three days?”

“Unless you’re volunteering for paperwork, Cavalry Captain Kaeya Alberich…”

The charming smile behind a rapidly closing door was the only appropriate response to that, in Kaeya’s opinion. 

While Kaeya had estimated that his trip would take three days, the actual job took only two. It was probably due to the help of his horse doing most of the travel work, as his elemental sight helped in locating the strands of hydro elements in the air. Returning back to Mondstadt from the Highlands took more time than the actual fighting, funnily enough.

As always, whenever he has been absent from Mondstadt, a routine is set in place– practically no one has realized his routine for checking, but that was useful in aspects like new suspicious individuals.

Or, as what he is apparently learning now from Swan and Lawrence, a certain red-haired man.

“Yeah, Captain Kaeya. Master Diluc was seen chatting with Ma’am Lisa at the Dawn Winery,” Lawrence relays in a hushed voice. While people getting together in any place in Mondstadt is not unusual– he’s actually had the chance of ordering in Good Hunter while their resident Spindrift Knight had been bargaining for vengeance over her salad–those two together were practically timebombs for gossip. 

Apparently, Lawrence had realized how important that fact is, or was probably too enamored at the buzz of gossip he’s heard despite being stationed at the gates. The grip he had on his sword was almost painful to look at.

“Yes– and moreover, Miss Lisa kept telling him things that made him– Master Diluc– look either offended, or pleased, embarrassed–”

“All of the three?” Kaeya wonders out loud.

“I– there are conflicting statements from the servants apparently, from what Guy told that came from his father, that’s all. ”

Right, those two maids, Kaeya muses in slight contempt. Those two loved to chatter away, and spend time on unraveling intricacies in such basic actions. For all they know, Diluc was just complimented by Lisa– Lisa had the habit of surprising people she meets, and Diluc was a gift-giver when known closely. Even the Traveler was surprised by the young master’s propensity to think about gifts. And apparently the news came from Old Tunner.

Though I recall that Lisa has invited Diluc to an afternoon tea session. They must have hit it off… in the three days I was absent, he thinks to himself, feeling quite strange.

“Yeah.” Lawrence nods. “After that, they parted ways. It was super interesting, really. Mister Charles was quite intrigued with all of it since it generated quite the sales.”

“The racket those two caused must have been quite the ordeal.”

“It was a ruckus,” Swan mutters from his left, and Kaeya internally grins at how the normally stoic guard had felt that annoyed to join in the conversation. And, if he says the right thing, Swan had the tendency to share the more scandalous happenings in Mondstadt. 

A little push would be beneficial for him, and so Kaeya says, “I didn’t think those two would bond at all, so I understand the interest. I’d be quite interested as well with the lull after, well, everything.”

“Ugh, not you too,” Swan muttered. “No offense, Sir Kaeya, but the lack of Dark Knight activity is more interesting to me.”

That sparks his interest even more than Diluc and Lisa meeting. “Oh?”

“No activities, and no-nothing, that’s all,” Swan reports, eyes looking straight to the bridge. “...Well, actually, Guy had to fend off a few hilichurls last night.”

“Pretty sure it shook him to the core.” Lawrence shakes his head. “Apparently, Sister Rosaria intervened as she was on her nightly walk. Guy collected a good mask to send to his father, I believe. Good on him.” 

“The absence of the Dark Knight Hero– how long has it been?” Kaeya asks. He was out for three days– and if it was anything more than one day, then there was probably something troubling haunting the night vigilante. Sister Rosaria, for all her hard work, would not want the burden of Mondstadt’s safety to be on her lonesome. 

“Three days?” Lawrence ticks his fingers and holds up three. “Yeah. I believe it was three– it was also that night that our substitutes say that the wind was strangely more erratic than usual. I wonder if it’s all connected?”

“Maybe they are,” Kaeya murmurs, entering Mondstadt premises.

But I’ll only know when I start investigating. 

Kaeya enters the room with a nonchalant gait, already noticing that the bartender for the day was none other than Charles. If I’m right, it’s the second day on what’s supposedly Master Diluc’s shift. I wonder if Angel’s Share has other employees than Charles? Diluc always did have a thing for giving people raises…

“Charles,” he greets amicably, and Charles bows his head in return. The man looks fine, at least; which means that Diluc’s condition, wherever he may be, is not critical. Yet, he was there to gather information. “I see that you’re once again on the front lines. I don’t like thinking about Master Diluc beyond his incapability of granting people a smile and a free drink, but if I’m correct, isn’t it his shift this week?”

Charles gives him a funny smile that Kaeya discerns to be amusement. “I guess you’d know, Captain. You’re right. The Dawn Winery sent a bird to me and it had a request on it for me to continue for the week.”

That piqued his interest. “ Venessa was sent?”

“The Dawn Winery’s messenger bird is named Venessa? Like—”

“Yes, yes, the founder of the Favonius Knights, of Mondstadt, yes Charles,” he waves his hand. Everyone in Mondstadt knew the basics of its history, even if they were outsiders. “—and the bird is a falcon. And it’s Master Diluc’s personal falcon.”

Also, he named the falcon, hence quite the patriotic name. If the winery wasn’t already named the Dawn Winery, he might have found a way to name it Dawn for the Dawn Knight. Or Barbatos, but then again naming your pet falcon for an archon might be considered blasphemy.

Charles blinked. There was a dumbfounded look on his face. Oh, he’s going to question the bird, isn’t he. I guess it’s quite difficult to imagine Diluc with animals because of his attitude.

Maybe I should start telling people he had a fish pond and was absolutely terrified of the frogs on the lily pads.

“Master Diluc has a—.” Charles suddenly looked like he realized that he was straying away from what he was saying, for which Kaeya was thankful for. “—I mean. I guess Master Diluc sent me the letter to man the bar for a while. He promised to pay more in advance, but honestly, he really didn’t need to,” Charles shakes his head with a smile.

While Charles smiling was fine, Kaeya felt something off about it. Not something wrong, but as if something was out of place from the action.

I’m getting more paranoid by the second, Kaeya chastised himself. Not the point.

“But that’s all I know, Captain. The letter just said that ‘I have business to attend to’ which can be anything.”

Kaeya cocks his head and observes the other man; it seemed like it was truly the only thing that he knew. Charles and he were always on good terms, as Kaeya always knew how to wrangle particularly disruptive guests when Charles didn’t have enough authority to do so. It didn’t seem like he was hiding anything and he had no reason to.

The man smiles when Kaeya sends him a nod, and a light apple cider to satiate his need for a drink.

For Diluc to notify Charles in such a short notice, with Venessa, then there must be something that he was hiding.

“Can it be connected to his meeting with our resident librarian? I didn’t think that Master Diluc’s tastes tended towards the intelligent type.” He says, gauging Charles’ response. Not that he believed that Diluc would ever pursue someone– especially Lisa, in that regard–but there was always a chance. A small chance, but a horrifying and weird chance nonetheless.

Charles, in turn, just shakes his head, a wry smile on his face.  

“I know that you’re going to fish for details, Sir Kaeya, but I don’t even know how the news reached here.”

“You know about Mondstadt.” Kaeya waves his hand. “A little bit of excitement here and there.”

Besides, he had already found a lead– and he knows someone with better instincts with leads such as those.

“Your insistence to follow a routine still amazes me,” Vile says upon seeing him climb the steps.

The plaza in front of the cathedral is quiet, save for the milling guards and nuns that couldn’t sleep for the night. If Kaeya tried, he might be able to pinpoint where Sister Rosaria could already be, scaling the walls of Mondstadt. 

“Always so direct and honest,” Kaeya answers back after a moment, sitting on the ledge of flowers. 

The “Interrogation Routine”, while not wholly revealed to Vile, was known by her due to the fact that she was the last in line. An informant by business and by upbringing, Vile’s skill in gathering information and deciding to whom they would benefit the most is a valuable asset that Kaeya had spotted once meeting her. Not that Kaeya particularly knows why she has chosen him for other matters– telling Sara about Jueyun Chili Peppers’ deadly taste was not something he expected to do–but he sees their dynamic.

“Someone has to be, with all the boatload of charm you did with Eury and Marjorie.”

“I see that you were, once again, observing me from afar.” Kaeya takes out his coin and flips it in the air. “Nothing interesting happening that much?”

A standard question obviously untrue, which is why Vile laughs. “Except the parts that did?”

“Except the parts that did.” He echoes, a smirk lifting in his lips.

Relaying all the information he had learned, he tilts his head as he watches Vile review the information. “Litmus test, as our alchemists say?”

After a few minutes pass, she says, “I’d say that Nimrod’s account might be the most accurate, since it was a first person perspective, though I still don’t understand why he was there. Plus, no offense to the maids, but they gossip more than I ever thought a person could do. What intricate and imaginative storytellers.”

“Nimrod was there for a wine tasting session, apparently.” 

“After Eury asking the nuns’ help with his rehabilitation?” They share a grin with one another, knowing the problematic relationship Eury had with Nimrod’s alcoholism. “I’m just waiting for the Church sisters to put them both in marriage counseling. Poor woman.”

“To be fair to Nimrod, he had a lot more concrete data to share.” Kaeya says, though he doesn’t elaborate why he’s defending the man. No need for her to know why Nimrod was there, after all. “What’s important to me is to corroborate the Lisa-Diluc pair happening. Any idea?”

Silence settles between them– and though it isn’t unusual when relaying information, Kaeya startles when he realizes that Vile seems to be hesitating to say anything. While not a cause of concern most of the time, the fact that she looks wary is enough to gain his attention.

“Relax,” Vile immediately says, spotting his ire. “It’s not… that surprising, but Master Diluc has been more active, that’s all.”

The instinct to question what kind of scheme those two are doing pops into his brain, but “ Diluc has been more active” stops him in his tracks. That was a particular code about Diluc meddling with the underground network he was apparently connected to; one that he only knows because Vile was a quid pro quo kind of person. 

The fact that she has told him without preamble raises several more red flags. Only one more point can drive the point home. 

“Who was the deliverer?”

“Not who,” she shakes her head, “--but he used his bird. I assume it was a small paper with a code, if that’s the case.”

“Venessa again,” Kaeya crosses his arms. That was the second time he’s heard that Diluc had used his falcon for delivering messages, and that only happened when something was urgent to be relayed to another person. “He’s going to overwork that bird before telling anyone what’s happening to him.”

“He probably would,” Vile agrees. “But there’s also another option with that, you know.”

The wind acts up all of a sudden, as if agreeing– and if Kaeya didn’t believe in the wind’s presence, then he believed it now; he remembered learning about the wind’s valuable effort in comforting Mondstadters, and this was apparently one of those situations. The shadow of a smile makes itself known on Vile’s face, and Kaeya only shakes his head at it. I’m imagining it.

“He’s a grown man, and he did a lot on his own,” Kaeya says, and looks away when Vile crosses her arms. The look of disagreement is clear under the moonlight, but Kaeya can choose to be blind twice over if it meant for these interactions. “Don’t look at me like that. He’s obviously doing something important, and he could’ve…” He shakes his head. “You and I both know that he won’t ask for help.”

“And Lisa?” Vile asks, raising an eyebrow. “Gossip aside, there’s a reason why those two together were such a shock to see.”

“Especially, and I quote Nimrod, ‘Master Diluc had power-walked downstream after whatever Miss Lisa said’. He’ll probably get it into his head that whatever he’s doing now, should be solved on his own.” Kaeya shrugs. “That’s just how it is.”

“Is it?” Vile murmurs. “Both of you are so strange. Not knowing your history aside, the fact that you have an Interrogation Route and he is… well, he has Angel’s Share, goals coalescing many instances and actually helping one another a lot… why is this the one instance that you’re both apprehensive on checking the other on?”

“...You know more than you’re telling me.” Kaeya surmises, eye narrowed at the informant. It didn’t grate on his nerves, but it peeved him, a little. No wonder why she’s been so talkative.  

“More than what you know, but not significantly,” she retorts back. “The only thing I know is that he is not as alright as you think he is, that’s why he’s absent. So go check on him, Sir Kaeya.”

Kaeya stares at the Barbatos statue, feeling something heavy settle in the pit of his stomach. Every alarm bell was ringing in his head– all related to Diluc, and his strange actions from the past three days. Gossip has chalked to Lisa and Diluc potential love interests or being secret lovers, neither what Kaeya thinks actually happened, because if it was a health matter, well, Lisa would’ve told Jean.

And Jean, as far as he knew, didn’t know anything yet. Diluc would have that bite him in the end, but first things first: it seems like a visit to the Dawn Winery was in store. 

Besides, if he ends up rejecting my help, well. 

I could always pester him in Angel’s Share.

The path to the Dawn Winery is a fun trip all the time. Lots of winding roads that made horse-riding a breathtaking endeavor. Thank Archons that they left a few horses for the remaining cavalry, he thought as he nudged his horse to a faster pace after a particular icing of hilichurls. 

Hilichurls also dotted the pathway, an almost everyday occurrence. Usually, if Diluc was up doing his nightly stroll and protector of Mondstadt shtick, the hilichurl population that decided to bank their homes here would be gone and burnt into a crisp. Now, there were a few here and there, messing with the produce stands or generally being a menace to those who passed.

Kaeya decided to bring the redhead a favor and take care of the bothering hilichurls.

A sudden noise registers in his senses, and he immediately tenses up, looking around.

I know I just cleared everything here, he thought to himself. Unless there’s a particularly clumsy animal parading around here, then someone is watching me. But they didn’t intervene at all, as I dealt with them. I wonder how to lure them out.

He turns around from his place, eye darting around to catch any of the previous movement. There was no movement in the bush, or—

“Hey,” he calls, spotting the young boy that he’s seen many times around Mondstadt. The kids of Mondstadt had talked about him—the wolf boy around Wolvendom, Lisa’s apprentice. “I’ll make it easier for the both of us, Razor. No need to hide.”

A few seconds passed before Razor peeked out of one of the fruit stands, gaze darting around the area as if expecting an attack that Kaeya couldn’t detect. Deciding not to talk till the tension in the kid’s shoulders loosened, Kaeya decided to observe Razor. Seems well enough, he surmised, and nodded when the boy started walking towards him.

“Ice man.” Razor dipped his head in greeting.

“Fascinated to meet you here,” Kaeya raised an eyebrow while quirking a smile at the name. “And trying to avoid being seen.”

“Wanted to see if monsters gone,” Razor conveys. 

“Oh? Is this what you do everyday? Quite the endeavor.”

“No.” Razor shakes his head. “Diluc usually here. Diluc not able to protect. Will stand for him. Heard you. Thought you were enemy and watched.”

Kaeya stares for a second.

“Diluc… not able to protect?”

“Yes.”

“…excuse me for being surprised, but what do you mean? You know what he does?”

You know that he’s the Dark Knight Hero, he wanted to say, but Razor doesn’t seem bothered that Kaeya was asking anything. He shrugs and starts walking towards the winery, and it embarrassedly takes Kaeya a second to regroup himself. He drags the horse beside him.

“Diluc helps with rifthounds,” Razor tilts his head towards Wolvendom. “—and monsters. Burns them. Gives me food when we meet.”

“You meet quite often, then?”

“No. Enough food for a week. Upset when I tell that I can hunt on own. Will survive. Sometimes he teaches me how to wield weapon. Better survival.”

“Oh, I see that, yes,” Kaeya nodded appreciatively, noting that the boy stands up straighter with pride. Ah, Kaeya’s lips twitch into a surprised smile, realizing that this was, once again, Diluc’s roundabout way of showing good will. Fascinating.

“So—Diluc’s condition. Is he okay? Have you been dealing with the enemies for the past two days?”

“Diluc fine last time. Asleep after Bennett brought her to check . Diluc tired when she talked about other world. Did not understand.”

“Bennett?” Kaeya blinked. “And—and the Prinsezzin? They were checking up on him? ”

That was really odd. What is Diluc doing nowadays? It seemed like a bit too much, from what he’s hearing– in the span of three days . Added with his nightly vigilante parole was apparently entertaining Mondstadt’s youth. Did Kaeya drop into a different universe all of a sudden, kind of like the Traveler? Is he still asleep, confined in his comfortable bed, hallucinating a world wherein Diluc willingly conversed with three of the most… unique youngsters of Teyvat that he knew?

Kaeya thought back during The Day and realized that it was also the last time he actually saw the man face-to-face. Alright, four days. That’s nothing to how he disappeared last time, and gods forbid that occurs again. But seriously?

Ridiculous . The man probably had encountered them doing their own thing and decided to save them when they unfortunately came into contact with enemies of much higher status or power than their own. Then, because Mondstadt’s love for freedom and happiness is infectious, it seems like the kids have done so with Diluc. 

Diluc must be overwhelmed by them, he thinks to himself. He doesn’t know how to interact well with energetic people, Paimon and Klee withstanding.

“Diluc not sick,” Razor reiterates out of the blue, as if remembering something all of a sudden. A tense look passes on his features. “But does not go around. Don’t understand but will protect if needed. Not need more pain.”

“...pain? But not sick? ”

“In pain, before.” Razor continues, marching absolutely towards the direction of the winery, not paying attention to the faster gait of Kaeya. “Heard. Met Bennett. Bennett brought medicine with Fischl. Diluc says fine but he is not so we help.” He looks at Kaeya. “Can you help?”

Kaeya clenches his jaw. Not until I understand the whole picture, he thinks.

Pain.

What in Archons happened?

“I’ll try.”

The sight of the winery is not exactly unfamiliar. It’s a vacation spot sometimes, a walk in the woods for his private musings.

Thank Archons there were no signs of Diluc being in pain or Kaeya would’ve booked it on sight and demanded to see the master of the winery with no preamble whatsoever. However, he was acting on two positions, and the Dawn Winery did have arrangements for face-to-face meetings.

“Will leave you here,” Razor nods. “Will check other areas.”

After sending the boy to do his work, he’s almost weirded out that the atmosphere of the Dawn Winery seems… charged. He knew that the winery itself was blessed by Barbatos in order to be protected by the harsh winds of Dragonspine and mixed temperatures of the breezes brought by the waters surrounding it, hence the appropriate climate for the vineyard. Throughout his years, he never saw the vineyard fail in producing quality grapes, of which he was thankful for. The surrounding crystalflies, as always, are attracted to the amount of elemental energy the site produces, giving it the ethereal feeling the winery is known for.

Yet, he’s not even anywhere near the vineyards when he feels something... powerful.

What am I feeling? Kaeya ruminates, pushing away the sudden powerlessness he feels as he trudges towards the direction of the entrance. It’s not quite exactly an oppressive feeling, but… it’s there. It’s concerning. What happened?

He was one lane into the base areas for grapes, when a sudden caw of a familiar bird attracted his attention. The bird immediately swooped in after hearing Kaeya’s subsequent clapping, a signal he knew that the bird would realize if he ever came into contact with it.

“Venessa,” Kaeya greeted, but was surprised she handed him a piece of paper.

Jaggedly torn paper, almost swirly handwriting, but written by Diluc himself, nonetheless. Wrote this in a hurry, Kaeya narrows his eye and looks at the bird perched onto a particular low-leveled plant branch. “How does your master know I’m here?”

The falcon caws, and extends its wings. Kaeya didn’t know what that meant—his brother was always the more understanding of birds and turtles, anyway.

“I’m still going, you know that,” Kaeya mutters, and while refuting the contents of the letter meant a certain mauling from the bird (he had seen his fair share of people who disregarded the master’s words, and they weren’t pretty) he pockets the letter and continues. “He’s in danger and he’s pushing everyone he thinks he can. Is it for some twisted sense of protectiveness, or he’s just being his blunt-headed self? Either way, V. I’m not leaving him behind.”

The almost excited flapping of wings makes him quirk a smile. “I’ll take that as approval. Bench for me, will you?”

The walk towards the entrance was not too long—yet he did catch a few crystalflies and took a mist flower for a potential fever. The winery itself was not devoid of activity—the maids were still there, and the helpers around the vineyard, who greeted him enthusiastically.

He leaves the horse at their care, and notes that Elzer doesn’t look surprised at his presence. Elzer, on his part, shakes his head. 

Diluc’s not here, he realizes, and when he looks at the direction where Venessa goes, he realizes that Diluc had probably made a personal shack for himself somewhere else. This is what you get for selling Father’s manor, he mused without malice, stamping down his amusement when the bird brings him even farther from Mondstadt and almost near the Cider Lake’s thinning areas.

In the area near the last patches of trees stood a small house, just a few meters away from the water.

Master Crepus’ old vacation house, he realizes, his footsteps getting quicker. And whenever Diluc was sick.

From the angle he picked, he could see Adelinde rushing around the house. Oh, this makes absolute sense, Diluc. Your house is far away already and you go and now you drag Adelinde into a deeper pit.

“Master Kaeya!” Adelinde greets him without fail, but he could see the tired fluster in her cheeks. Her eyes darted inside of the house, then back to him. “Oh, I knew it would only be a matter of time.”

“I guess it is.” He shrugs. “Not to be rude, but I’m here to see if Diluc’s still alive,” Kaeya says, bringing out the crystal cores and mist flowers he gathered. “Sounds sick, but even more than that. Got the kids worked up. Said he was in pain. Or, at least Razor had.”

Adelinde presses her lips together, and opens the door to let him through. The gifts don’t go unnoticed, but she doesn’t move beyond making him enter, suggesting that it wasn’t a fever at all. Kaeya’s expression changes to a look of confusion, which she probably sees because her mouth opens to answer—and is abruptly stopped by a particularly clipped voice of a certain Ragnvindr not even in the room.

“Is that their response because that’s awfully fast–“

Kaeya watches as Diluc stops himself from talking, and the rapid blinking that ensues afterwards makes Kaeya’s worry for him grow. Normally, even if the man was in pain or whatsoever, he’d just suck it up and deal with it with a straight face– even in his younger days. 

The fact that he was leaning on his door was another thing he noticed, which meant two things: either Diluc was too tired and was dragging himself everywhere, or he was hiding something from him.

Adelinde, on his side, exits the house and closes the door immediately. Smart woman, as always. Getting out of the blast zone before it occurs.

He looks back at Diluc, who stares right at him. The man looked a bit haggard– his hair wasn’t well-kept, and he must have been reading– or had been startled from sleep– since he had his glasses hooked on his shirt. If Keaya didn’t know him well enough, Diluc would’ve looked like he had been sent to Sumeru’s Academia in the past three days.

“... Excuse me for my appearance, but why are you here?” 

Diluc was covering the doorknob now; as if Kaeya wouldn’t push him out of the way to see what he was hiding inside. However, he was still a man with tact, and even though he had the skills to persuade even the slimiest people in Teyvat, he’d rather not fight tooth and nail with his sworn brother over a doorknob .

So, a nonchalant hug was the best way to go, to irk the man and to make him think he was chill about everything. “Heard a few birds or two, or maybe three. Actually, Master Diluc, a whole city of birds.”

The minute changes of panic, to disappointment, to bewilderment and finally, exhaustion on Diluc’s face was hilarious to witness, which was a few emotions more than what he’s privy on a good day with him. Must be really frazzled, aren’t you. To lay it on thicker, he follows, “And was it a date they saw? My, my, Master Diluc and the glorious Miss Lisa. A power couple, they say. The explosions that could occur with that pair.”

“...Archons,” Diluc mutters under his breath in pain, but still audible enough that Kaeya cracks a smile.

“No denial?”

“If I deny, will you leave me alone?” 

Kaeya eyes the man pressing himself further on the door. “You seem awfully ready to boot me out, Master Diluc.”

“I… no, I’m busy. Like always.”

“Exactly, like always.” Kaeya raises an eyebrow. “I did just come from an expedition, you know. Served my people like a good knight by disposing of a wayward hydro abyss mage.”

“I’m glad the Knights have you, at least I know you’re there to protect Mondstadt,” Diluc answers in a clipped tone, but there was a genuineness that Kaeya realizes is laced in his words, which makes him blink. “I’m glad you’re safe. Now can you please go awa–”

Diluc stops speaking when something shimmers from behind him, through the door. 

A crystalfly.

“Huh,” Kaeya murmurs. “That’s unexpected. Housing a crystalfly garden there, Master Diluc? We all know that your winery has more of them than any other area in Mondstadt.”

Diluc’s face was contorted into a very passive, straight-faced look, obviously trying to tamp down any kind of embarrassment on his features. Kaeya would appreciate it more if he was able to see, so he just does that.

He bounces in place, and almost laughs out loud when Diluc realizes in half a second what he was going to do– but as always, he was the faster of the two, thus he doesn’t expect Kaeya to teleport next to him and yank the door open.

The angry protest of get back behind him is nothing to what he sees.

Mountains of books. Papers strewn about on the floor. 

A cloud of crystalflies, colored blue-green and red for some reason, flitting around the room in an excited frenzy. They land on the books, the shelf, the bed, bursting to and fro from the energy they contained. 

“Diluc?” Kaeya murmurs at the whole mess–and looks back at him in bewilderment. “What in Archons…?”

Diluc sighs, shoulders heavy.

“I can… explain.”

Chapter Text

A few years ago, in Mondstadt, a duo would make themselves known as two of the most efficient individuals that the Knights have ever seen. They passed the Knights’ exams for admissions together, and rose through the ranks side-by-side. While one skyrocketed to captaincy, the other became the shadow—not quite in the limelight, but recognizable nonetheless. People would see them in Mondstadt and hear them speak in almost a different language due to their own jokes, observations and thoughts mixed with codes; the Knights would hold them in high regard due to the speed and strength that the two had when together.

The bond between these two would dwindle, even to the point that others felt like the two were estranged to one another. The one that stayed in the shadows back then, preferred to let himself out to the main event—personality booming with suaveness and skill laden with deadly efficiency that it was not hard to spot him even in the crowd. The one that shone in the light, on the other hand, retreated to a life of solitude and melancholy.

Or that was what Diluc knows from what others have told him about Kaeya and his’ relationship. Or what he heard from the drunks in Angel’s Share when they waxed about his golden days.

He knows that he’s not as close to Kaeya as he was in the past… but that was warranted. There were many things that life cannot just mend, and his actions of that night were too many for him to fully atone for his mistakes. Not everything can be brought back to how it was especially when there was a reminder just present in the other man’s demeanor—the two of them had said things that hurt the other, and the both of them weren’t sure about many things.

Yet even after everything, Diluc knows that it would be Kaeya that he would trust over anyone in Mondstadt.

Indeed, he can talk to Jean, someone that would definitely hear his side and understand his thoughts—but she had too many responsibilities. An addition of something as drastic to whatever Diluc was experiencing would undoubtedly add to her unfair load already. The Traveler may even be a great ally, but he knows that even they were preoccupied with their quest to search for their sibling; he doesn’t want to bother their trip to whatever land they were travelling towards, because he knows the toll of travelling the lands.

(Though he is aware that the Traveler can use the waypoints that were previously thought to be defunct. It might be the reason why they were easy to contact… and there was the matter of that teapot abode. He’s entered the adeptal realm once, and was surprised to see the Traveler and Paimon excitedly showing him a whole plot of land that they offered for making grape juice. It was such a foreign concept that he had offered to name a drink in their name—his need to give back had astonished them.)

It was also a testament that Kaeya had gone to him after what was probably his routine of checking his information network in Mondstadt. Old habits might die hard, and he knows their agreement to always check on one another superseded any kind of ingrained habit. Plus, he knows that even if he was an infuriating, meddling man, Kaeya did always have the safety of Mondstadt—of his—in his mind.

Diluc stares at the crystal fly that pops into existence above his hands, and tries not to notice Kaeya’s bewildered gaze.

There were a lot of things in his mind, and he doesn’t know what to say. That was one of the things that Mondstadt may have forgotten about him—while he was “bright”, while he was “energetic” and “open”, he wasn’t the most conversational. Leading a team was easy when you know their strengths and weaknesses, and bringing out a successful mission is even easier when you have the right individuals and personal prowess to respond.

Conversations? He always had scripted responses; to drunks in the tavern, to those who wanted to talk to him because he was the Ragnvindr heir, and especially to those under his command when he was in the Ordo.

“Right,” Kaeya says, sitting down opposite him. “We might need to start from… somewhere. Because the last time we saw each other, especially the Winery, I didn’t see any kind of crystal fly next to you. Or from you. If you say this is a recent development, then I will seriously contemplate in your thriving romance with our resident librarian.”

“Kaeya,” he groans, putting his hands over his face. “Archons, it’s bad enough that Mondstadt likes a good rumor.”

“No, no, I think I’m entitled to this,” Kaeya places his hands on his waist, then puts up one and ticks with his fingers. “I go out for three days, return, learning that first, you haven’t been seen anywhere and you’ve been sequestered in Father’s old vacation home, second, that you might be a vampire—which isn’t more of a new thing really, but more on the ‘oh, they finally know, the secret is out, huzzah!’ kind of way—”

Diluc rolls his eyes.

“Third, the Bennett, Razor and the Prinsezzin has been keeping tabs on you, which is quite outlandish even for me! I heard from Bennett you even cooked for them.” To top off all the theatrics, Kaeya splays out his arms wide. “But the fourth’s the kicker—you’re dating Miss Lisa! The Miss Lisa,” he emphasizes, as if it was real and not like the both of them knew that it wasn’t, “—the Ordo’s amazing librarian who numbed my arm to the point that I couldn’t feel it for days. You’re dating her.”

“She likes books, I like books, we found a connection, what’s wrong with that?” Diluc mutters in a deadpan, though the tone might have been somewhat too real—and defensive, reviewing on it—because Kaeya stares at him like he had just drunk three bottles of Fire Water. Willingly.

“I’m not sure if you’re joking.”

“…How would I not be joking?”

Kaeya squints. “Hm. You’re right. Lisa won’t settle for a barbarian like you.”

He scoffs, looking away and remembering what she had told him before she left. No, his face wasn’t reddening. “She told me I was quite the gentleman, so you might have to revise your outlook of me.”

A beat of silence passes between the both of them, and Diluc hazards to look at Kaeya,

He has to remind himself not to laugh and that they were both grown men who probably were in the same area due to a concerning situation, because Kaeya looks absolutely disgusted.

“Please never joke in my presence, ever again,” Kaeya hisses, eye wide. “The fact that I had to hesitate if what you had said was real is horrifying. If you can suddenly summon crystal flies in three days, I’m sure we can fix your joke delivery in ten years.”

“Kaeya.”

“Swear on it, Diluc.”

He sighs, but it’s not out of annoyance.

He knows what Kaeya’s doing.

He knows that the other man is trying to give him the opportunity to guide the conversation. Just like he did, in the past, when Diluc would stumble over what he thought and what he wanted to say when the Ragnvindr image was to be upheld. Just like he did when he overtakes conversations when he wanted to retreat behind. A tactic that has always worked into making Diluc say what he needed to say, especially to Kaeya.

So why can’t I tell him?

There were many things that he wants to say to Kaeya, from that night that he thought his skin was on fire and his mind felt like it had been pounded on by a hammer. The horror that he had felt when the winery experienced a freak of a storm, or the confusion when his house had been barricaded by a wall of wind and fire. The amazement he felt when he had conjured the crystal fly. The dread when he saw that his Vision was missing.

He knows that Kaeya is waiting for an explanation—he could see it in the way that Kaeya was refusing to say anything aggravating. Contrary to other people’s beliefs of them, they don’t spend every waking moment trying to fight one another. There was only one instance that he had raised his sword against Kaeya, and he had vowed to never do it again due to the price they both paid. Time has shown him that he had acted rashly to a person who had guilt in his conscience—and if through bickering and banter will their relationship be a mimicry of what was in the past, then that was he would take.

Kaeya has even started to check back on him in the Winery, and he’s… stood in front of the Knights of Favonius’ building to inquire about Kaeya a couple of times. Angel’s Share was still their common ground, or literally any battlefield that needs both of their presence. Slowly, he’s trying to open up again to Kaeya, and even Kaeya had, in what he assumed was him trying, reminisced of their past without insulting him in the same sentence.

Many things will change, but he knows his trust with Kaeya won’t.

This is Kaeya, he reminds himself. While it may be painfully truthful, we’ve had worse.

When he gathers his resolve and wits to finally say what’s on his mind, Kaeya alert and attentive across him, a loud crash sounds from outside his temporary abode. It makes the both of them stand up in surprise, though Kaeya was already heading the door—always being the faster one between the two of them.

“What in Barbatos’ name…?” Kaeya mutters, opening the door.

Diluc steps outside and almost lets out a chuckle at the irony of the statement, if it weren’t for the fact that the loud crash was none other than the person he’s been searching for the past few days.

“Master Diluc, and Sir Kaeya! Why, it’s quite a surprise to see both of you here!”

“Venti,” he says, as flat as possible, hiding his relief. Kaeya hums behind him, oblivious to the tension building up in Diluc.

Venti lets out a cheery laugh, despite the vines entangled on his legs.

The knowing grin on his face makes Diluc’s skin crawl.

Venti could be the subtlest person in the room, if he didn’t speak too confidently about Barbatos’ life as if he was there to record them. Fortunately for the lot of Mondstadt, which included Kaeya, the bards compete on making outlandish ballads on a daily basis. So far, it really was just him and Jean who knew of Venti’s real identity—and probably Alice, though Diluc didn’t really know. Maybe Albedo could know, and probably Kaeya, though both don’t really indicate any inclination of knowing the bard’s real identity.

Yet there were times such as this—where Venti just appears out of nowhere, in the nick of time, when he is needed—that reminds Diluc that is his Archon.

This is Mondstadt’s Archon, the touted absentee Archon, of which he doesn’t think so.

There were times that he was inclined to brush away Barbatos and the gods in the grand scheme of things, but he’s learned a lot of things throughout his journey in Teyvat. Even if the person is adamant in not needing the help of the gods, one way or the other, a person with a Vision would come in to influence the matter. Maybe someone like Venti, a powerful being masquerading as a human, is present in the crowd. There were many things that Diluc did not know, and one of them was Venti’s supposed absence in the land of Mondstadt.

People believed that it was Barbatos who had asked for the help of Dvalin, wasn’t he? Diluc might have been surprised that his god was just parading as a bard in the middle of Mondstadt, and an addict of alcohol at that, but he knew the identity of the bard. There were things that time changes, and he inferred that one of them was caring about appearances and responsibilities.

“When you say that the wind will decide when to blow, I didn’t think it was literal,” he murmurs as he cuts the vines that Venti supposedly “fell” into. Even Kaeya, who knew nothing about Venti’s real identity, looked nonplussed. “You’re difficult to reach when you’re apparently not performing in any tavern.”

Venti sends him an amused look. “So, you’ve been searching for me, Master Diluc? I think I’m flattered.”

“You’ve been what?” Kaeya echoes as he basically slaps the bandages on Diluc’s shoulder. Diluc furrows his eyebrows at the action.

The bard eyes Kaeya for a moment, before returning his gaze at Diluc. “This is a protective one.”

“Don’t mind him.” He could hear hum, but Diluc only furrows his eyebrows even more. He turns his head to see Kaeya fiddling with his coin. “What?”

“Nothing, like you said, don’t mind me.”

What's his problem, Diluc thinks to himself, sitting on his haunches in confusion.

Venti kicks the last of the vines away, and in a split second Diluc spots the anemo that was assisting the entanglement. They meet each other’s gazes, and Diluc blinks when he realizes that Venti almost looks—almost looks approving.

Approving of what, that he didn’t know.

Trying to hide his confusion, he pushes himself upwards and extends his hand to Venti, who cheerfully accepts. “Why thank you, Master Diluc. That was very kind of you. I guarantee that Mondstadt shall hear of your goodness through my ballads! But I know you get a little bit iffy when someone compliments you, so I won’t do it in Angel’s Share.” He places his hand on Diluc’s wrist, and begins tugging him to a direction opposite the winery. “I shall regale it in the plaza! Lots of people like attending there when I sing.”

The promise makes him wince, because he does not need any of that. “I’ll take a song instead.”

Venti peeks behind him to giggle. “Is that a call for a private audience, Master Diluc?”

“Where are we going?” Kaeya suddenly interrupts, and Diluc doesn’t even try to hide the gratitude on his face when he meets gazes with him. His lips quirk up in amusement, undoubtedly knowing that the conversation would’ve gone to a weird path that Diluc wasn’t ready to face. “You seem like you have a defined destination for Diluc to go to, despite claiming you just, stumbled to the house, Venti.”

The tone was light and curious, but Diluc could hear the underlying suspicion. Venti’s eyes narrow in interest. “That I do, Sir Kaeya. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Straightforward,” Kaeya observes, tilting his head. “Well, if that’s the case. Don’t let me stop you, I’ll tag along just because. Or would you like to have Master Diluc’s audience in private as well?”

To both of their surprise, Venti looks at Diluc. “The matter is about you after all, Master Diluc. Do you want Kaeya to be there when we talk?”

Diluc stills at the question, lowering his arm from Venti’s grasp. Venti steps back and nods, while Kaeya turns his head away.

The former archon had pinpointed to his distress so easily that Diluc is sure that whatever he was going to say—whatever Venti was going to tell him, it would be an important matter. A matter that can change many things, because he was pretty sure that the moment that they talk, he wouldn’t be talking to Venti anymore. Barbatos would be talking to him outside of any external threat.

An Archon personally confronting his citizen. Diluc wants to shake his head in disbelief because he was right; did he want anyone else to know?

Did he want Kaeya to know?

If he was right… if Lisa and he was right, then it was the matter that involved not only Visions—but also of Celestia. Celestia, the entity that had cursed Khaenri’ah, Kaeya’s real bloodline; Khaenri’ah, supposedly connected to the Abyss Order, the proclaimed enemy of Celestia.

He knows that he’s the only one that knows of Kaeya’s real identity. Others of those who know of the past civilization may have speculated, and again, Venti probably already knows of his lineage. It was also probably the reason why he had given him the choice to include or exclude Kaeya from their impending conversation.

Then there was the matter of Venti, who wishes to lie low from others’ knowledge of his existence as a former archon. The bard wants to be treated the same as any other citizen in Mondstadt, and any other human on Teyvat.

He trusts Kaeya to keep the secret, however; that man is a well of them, anyway.

But he doesn’t have to know everything, especially since there is still one, glaring and terrifying question that has no answer to.

He must be the first to know, and he’ll decide what to do next.

“This won’t take too long, wouldn’t it?” He asks Venti, pointedly looking at him and nowhere else. “The birds will need to be fed, after all.”

“…No.” Venti says truthfully, studying his face and then looking back where Kaeya was. “No, not at all. It won’t even take a minute, I think. Then you can… feed your birds, I guess?”

Despite not hearing any type of movement, he knows that Kaeya had already gone away to the house. Diluc knows he understands that there are things in Diluc’s line of work that Kaeya should not be privy of—yet again, there have been several conflicts throughout history that arose from mere misunderstandings.

Funnily enough, he’s good at his actions being misconstrued. At least, in this case, he knows that Kaeya heard the underlying message.

“Alright then,” Diluc nods at Venti, then looks towards the sky where he presumes Dvalin would appear. He wouldn’t be surprised. “Where to?”

Venti doesn’t call Dvalin for a ride, but what he does is summon a column of wind to propel himself up the cliffs towards Windrise, claiming that he wants to show him something. The column of wind was high up—almost as high as the Old Tower of Mondstadt, back in Stormterror’s Lair.

Diluc eyes the pillar of wind with apprehension, and the teasing laugh sent his way.

That…no.

Then Venti basically taunts Diluc to deploy his wings and glide towards the direction of Windrise.

“This is ridiculous,” Diluc mutters, because no, he was not attempting to do…whatever Venti wants him to do. God or not, he wasn’t an idiot enough to follow a (presumably) indestructible being while he himself was a just a human who’d probably die of different air elevations.

He turns around to walk to the actual path to Windrise. Like a normal person.

“Come on, Master Diluc!” Venti shouts, glider already deployed—though Diluc suspects that he doesn’t actually need it. God of Anemo and all of that. “It’s fun!”

Fun wasn’t exactly what we were going to talk about, he thinks to himself, before continuing his pace. We were about to talk about something else. If that is where he wants to converse, then I can always jog towards Windrise.

He doesn’t get far away when his vision suddenly swirls as he feels a hand descend on his shoulder. The air is still warping as he falls, and it’s only due to years of experience that he doesn’t splutter at plummeting down unceremoniously.

The air feels and smells different, crisper and an aroma of fruits. Valberries.

Stormbearer Mountains, he realizes, and he’s about to scold Venti—because he knows that the bard had forcefully teleported him through whatever waypoint they had travelled to—when he stops cold as he hears him talk.

“You really are stubborn, aren’t you, Master Diluc?”

The voice doesn’t change, but there’s something… different, powerful, and ancient when Venti speaks in that manner. Something that a human like him is not to witness so easily, because it’s not normal.

Barbatos, his mind corrects, and he breathes out slowly to calm his heart.

“I would prefer tactical, as gliding to Windrise isn’t the… most relaxing thing to do.”

“I’d say different, but I guess you’re not quite the young Ragnvindr who’d climb the Windrise tree just for fun, hm, Diluc?”

He’s proud that his voice comes out steady when he responds, finally getting his heart under control. “Par for the course.”

Venti—Barbatos—starts walking up the hill, and Diluc doesn’t waste any time to follow him. The wind is quiet, as if the ever-present wind in the mountains could sense the gravity of their impending conversation. The eerie silence, and lack of monsters, Abyss Order beings, or even the Fatui on the mountains should at least give him some semblance of peace, but everything felt wrong.

In the back of his mind, he wishes that Kaeya had accompanied him instead.

The sun was starting to set when the Thousand Winds Temple comes into view, and Diluc’s eyes flicker towards Barbatos, who has done nothing but trek upwards with a serene yet serious demeanor. Not that it was unwelcome, but Diluc kind of feels like a fish out of water, too out of its depth to understand what was going on.

Which, from everything that’s been happening, has been frequent feeling, he thinks to himself.

Diluc realizes that the Ruin Guard that tends to sit in the middle of the temple was gone—completely gone, with no remains at all. There was a chance that Adventurers or the Knights had given it quick work for civilian safety, but considering the fact that he’s walking beside Barbatos, there was a higher chance that it had been cleared for this sole purpose.

“We’ll be safe out here,” Barbatos suddenly says as he climbs up the center steps, and Diluc only nods in response. He notices that the researcher that usually frequented the temple and her companion were gone.

They truly were the only ones in the mountains.

The god stops, then stretches his hand out to him, almost reminiscent to his earlier action.

Diluc looks at it and pushes himself upwards to where Barbatos was standing.

“You’ll have to work on that,” the god says with a click of his tongue.

Diluc pauses. “On what exactly?”

“You can’t always do things alone, even if it’s with the intention to atone.”

“If I deem it necessary, then I will call for assistance,” Diluc says back, watching as Barbatos pushes himself up to another column through anemo. “And I have climbed up many walls without the guide or help of another.”

“Playing obtuse is not the best ruse when you’re being accused, Master Diluc.” Barbatos reminds him. “Though it’s not exactly a weakness, since you’re clear of your reasons. It might become your downfall, unfortunately.”

Cryptic ballads and rhymes, Diluc thinks to himself crossly. Ever since that night in the tavern and Venti’s vague farewell, as well as Lisa’s presumption of the future, he doesn’t think he has it in him to express his frustration. I’d understand if it was for covert operations, but it’s not material for idle chit-chat, isn’t it?

If it was on a better day, his patience would have won out his frustration—but he had just gone through one of the most abnormal days of his life, even by past week’s standards. Though he’d rather be courteous, especially in front of the archon, he finds himself wanting to rest and get everything over with.

He’s been ready to talk to Venti—or Barbatos—ever since that night. Four days is sufficient, wasn’t it?

Researching can only do so much if there was no material to work with.

“What were you supposed to tell me?” he finally asks, and Venti opens his eye, looking at him in consideration.

“If I was supposed to just tell you, then I wouldn’t have made you walk here, Master Diluc.”

Then, as if on cue, the winds seem to respond to Barbatos; the previously calm atmosphere being interrupted by random breezes from different directions. Diluc tightens his hair tie instinctively, though he doesn’t tear his gaze away from the movement of floating grass and leaves.

In a few moments, the winds turn stronger, becoming gales that kicked up dust and dirt. The movements were solid enough that, to Diluc’s inner awe, he could see the spirits that circled the temple.

Barbatos stands in the middle, his lyre in hand. The tune that he was strumming didn’t reach Diluc’s ears, but he supposes that it wasn’t an actual song, but rather a call for the spirits that were making themselves known.

The winds of Mondstadt, he realizes in awe. And they bow to the call of the Anemo Archon.

They start to spin faster and faster, enough that they were resembling a tornado; but Diluc and Barbatos, despite the strong winds, remain in the middle, safe and cocooned. They seem to howl strongly amidst the silence of the mountains, and suddenly, Diluc could make out a tune in their movement.

No, he thinks, reveling in the sight as the lights of the night illuminate the temple in an ethereal fashion. Songs.

I’m hearing songs.

A familiar tune sticks out to him, and immediately he concentrates in retrieving the piece of music— enough to the point that he hadn’t realized he had closed his eyes. The Tale of the Wind God was the title of the tune, a piece that was taught to him in the past when he actively played the lyre. The words were lost to him, but the music was distinct—so close, even if it was easily being meshed with the others.

When he opens his eyes, he’s looking straight at Barbatos’ eyes, glowing with power and what seems to be pride.

Then, it crumples to a somber realization, so out of place from Venti’s place that it jolts him out of his trance.

“Venti?” he murmurs softly, as he walks towards him. ears thundering with apprehension. “Are you okay?”

Venti—or maybe Barbatos, but who cares for that as of the moment—chuckles quietly. “You hear them?”

Somehow, he knows he’s talking about the music in the winds. “Yes. Yes, I hear them—it’s a cacophony, but if I try hard enough, I can pick one and listen to the song they bring. I can hear The Tale of the Wind God. It was one of the favored pieces of the Ragnvindrs, I believed. Father had taught me to play it on the lyre, despite not quite playing the lyre himself.” He pauses. “Does that mean that the winds in Mondstadt all have their own tunes?”

“Stories,” Venti corrects, sitting down. Diluc mimics him. “The winds, they bring stories far and wide. They become inspirations for ballads, or they speak to those who have the power of anemo. Seeds of stories, brought by the wind and cultivated by time,” he quotes, staring off to the ocean.

“They’re…” Diluc tries to search for the correct words, but he settles for one. “Beautiful. They sound amazing, Lord Barbatos.”

Barbatos laughs again, though it’s that melancholic tone that bothers Diluc to no end. “You’re right to call me Venti, you know. Now that you can hear them, I know they’ve already chosen you. Now it’s just a matter of ascension.”

Diluc’s previous enjoyment of the songs halts, and he stills.

No.

“Lord Barbatos... Venti—” he murmurs, shock and unexplainable terror coursing through his veins. “Celestia cannot—"

“Mondstadt shall welcome the new Anemo Archon,” the former Archon calls out, and though it was spoken so softly amidst the winds of the temple, it booms throughout, loud and clear. Even through the static that had filled Diluc’s mind.

It can’t be.

“Diluc Ragnvindr, of whom possesses the Pyro Vision, has been blessed by the power of Anemo through the virtue of the Gnosis.”

They can’t force me to become the Archon.

“Celestia has deemed you to be the next Archon of Mondstadt,” Venti continues, and his eyes are sorrowful, because he knows. He knows the responsibility, the weight, the path of an Archon, and it was the same reason why he had quit.

This wasn’t what Diluc had prepared for—not what Lisa had told him of, not what he had theorized.

It wasn’t what he had thought everything would go.

So Diluc does one thing he has never done before.

He runs away.

Kaeya was on the foot of the mountains, just near Starfell Lake. Diluc has never been so relieved that the other man was suspicious of everything that happens that he’d actually track them, despite being on the other side of Mondstadt. 

“Diluc, you’re alone? Where’s—“, is the only thing that he gets out, before he stops himself, probably seeing his bedraggled state. “Diluc, what in Teyvat—did you just glide down the mountain? What happened? Are you okay?”

“Kaeya,” he grits out in harsh breaths, and he wants to say, why me, why me, why me.

Of all people, why me?

They haven’t been so close in a long, long time—not in this type of situation—but Diluc stumbles to a sitting position near Kaeya, throwing out all pretenses of whatever Ragnvindr, tycoon, Knight image that he has to uphold out of the window. He forces himself to lie down on the ground, trying to imagine that the ground could absorb the churn of emotions that he was feeling and the static in his brain that had not gone away for the past days.

The pattering of rain during that night after the attack.

The hardwood floor of the Ordo Favonius’ Headquarters.

The snow of Snezhnaya as the Harbingers descended upon him.

He tries to remember that Kaeya would understand, after everything.

He feels Kaeya’s hand on his shoulder, and he tenses up.

“Diluc,” Kaeya whispers, faux calm forced in his voice. “What did he say?”

His head is spinning, just like those nights where anger and frustration and hurt and fear clouded his mind. Now, confused terror enveloped his every thought.

“Celestia’s eyes,” Diluc seethes out, watching as Kaeya slackens his hold on his shoulder in bewilderment. “They were trained on me.”

“They’ve chosen me.”

Chapter Text

Visions are still one of the greatest mysteries in Teyvat.

When the land of the gods hung in the sky ominously, as if mimicking a watch tower that is able to withstand the sun and the moon, it is understandable that humans saw them as the most powerful. From up above, higher than any plaustrite can reach, higher than any bird could fly, the gods gaze down upon humanity, benevolence shown in the presence of Visions.

They have existed for a long, long time; they have been with humanity ever since time immemorial, shown as the gifts of the gods. They are posited as a god of that element showing favor towards the person, believing that they are worthy of such power—that they are deserving. It is not a surprise that many believe in such, since in different cases of different people, data fluctuated.

But belief persevered.

Belief in Visions led to research from those with and without them; belief in the gods made people crave and want and hold and possess these Visions. The day that one shows up on a person, it is said to be a mark of beauty, of defiance, of passion, of grace; the person has been chosen, of whatever endeavor they had on their mind. They are the people whom Celestia turns their gaze upon, and commends their ambition.

Cases of people continuing their life’s work due to the appearance of the Vision have been recorded; on the other hand, there are those who gain the Vision and do a one-eighty turn.

Then there are those people who crave the power to wield the elements. They hear of the massive accomplishments Vision Holders have, the raw power they exude, the intelligence they possess, the otherworldly feeling of being able to wield fire or air as easy as one goes. They see the Vision as an expensive ornament that opens the world and their world to newer possibilities, of excitement and reputation. It was easy to see Visions of those passed away to be sold on the market—because if one can be lucky, the Vision activates as well.

Theories, theories, theories. Even the best of any academics and masters had no strong reason as to why Visions were given to certain people. Fontaine had amazing techniques for research due to their advanced technology, but it paled in comparison to magic. The closest understanding one could get to was the Delusion, devices doled out in Snezhnaya to the worthy and strong—a gadget of mimicry that exchanges power for suffering.

The exchange to this reality is large; it seems reckless, unnecessary and awful to give literal death devices to people who cannot and should not wield them. It was the same for those who fell in combat in the civil war of Inazuma; several troops, swayed by the power of the Delusion, in order to contribute something bigger in a world skewed towards Vision holders. With a Delusion, a human can die.

Funnily enough, when a Vision is removed from a human, they also lead to an equally awful demise.

As Inazuma’s borders opened, information about the Vision Hunt Decree gave idea to the world what the implication of stolen Visions were. Horrific tales of soldiers losing their will to live, once-strong fighters becoming husks of their former selves. Forgetfulness, depression, fugue: the trifecta of effects of a missing Vision. Those who possessed Visions could only protect their own as much as they can.

Diluc had laughed in bewilderment as he had learned of the news, from correspondence with the Traveler.

Around that time, it had been almost half a year since the Sakoku Decree was lifted, and subsequently, Diluc’s ignited curiosity with the nature of Visions. People who knew him in the past were privy to Diluc’s fascination of the Vision. Not only did he receive his own quite early—at age ten, his pyro Vision had manifested itself on his person—but the fact that his father did not. His hardworking, strong father, who juggles several tasks as the Wine Tycoon of Mondstadt (and all of Teyvat, really) and an Ordo aspirant. He remembers his father’s musings about the Knights, about how they favored those with a Vision, more than anyone else.

To Diluc, that had been unfair.

To Diluc, when his father revealed he had a Delusion, that he had one in order to be sure, it had been unfair.

If the Visions were the gifts of the gods of Celestia to the “deserving”, then why do they fall short to the “worthy”? If the Delusions of the Tsaritsa were made as the mockery of them, why was the backlash so painful that it consumes the person’s life span? And when both are scrutinized, they push the conversation to show the nature of Tevyat—of the gods of Celestia and Teyvat, of the people, of what one knows and what one doesn’t know.

Thus, in the end, only one thought remains: what is the truth of the world?

In his younger years, fueled by searing rage against the faulty, this question was blinding. Too large to tackle, even for someone as passionate as himself. The passion was flickering, definitely, and the Delusion on his hand had made the association of Vision-god worse; however, it was the same passion that drove him to learn more about that dangerous weapon, the one that ate a person’s soul.

And I had been unaware once again, he had thought as he folded the Traveler’s letter. Of how close I was to death.

Months of using the cursed tool, black and deep red flames pulsing in chains that held enemies and monsters down. He was unaware that using it might have already halved his life span.

He was unaware of many things.

Time keeps offering humbling realization to him, almost as if he was in a cycle of being beaten into the ground of how naïve he could be. Against the drake even with his Knights training, he had no chance. In the snow of Snezhnaya as he lied bleeding after the encounter with the Harbingers, he had no chance. To others, especially to the underground network that had saved him, he must have been seen as idiotic, impulsive.

No. He just wanted to understand.

He wanted to understand Visions, Delusions, and how it all tied together. Once upon a time, he found leylines and domains to be interesting parts of the world, normal and real as it could go, but as he steps back—as his superior orders him to—he starts to question. Doubt encroaches in his mind, of how a truth could be buried under many layers of touted beliefs and pain and suffering.

Was it the fault of the world that they could not see the underlying reality present in their lives—in small orbs called Visions, in sky-high castles such as Celestia, in towering figures of the Archons, of ley lines and domains that wither and revitalize by their hands?

The day that he was inducted to the Strix, he was to memorize their motto. Truth is bound by the powerful, but justice is the aegis of the wise. A reminder that through time, the world will reveal its secrets, and in that sense, the organization must be vigilant.*

Keep track of the world, keep track of knowledge, keep track of the truth; in the face of disaster, the trustworthy will lead. It was not difficult to show his need to abide by their belief—they had chosen Diluc for a reason to be part of their operations, and they knew he was capable. Whatever may be discovered, revealed and shared, the network will offer their assistance in order to understand the truth of the world.

Diluc has always been convinced that the truth of understanding how the world works lied in Visions. He just didn’t know that it might have led him to his demise.

TWO DAYS AGO

There was no need to be anxious towards the response of the network to his inquiry; after all, there was no actual, objective proof to his suspicions about his current predicament. For all he knows, some amused person decided to steal his Vision away from him; admittedly, he does need it, and would track it down still. Yet, if he somehow wouldn’t be able to get it once more, he doesn’t feel like it’d be a big loss.

It’s a badge of conviction for those who have it, and an object of inspiration for those who don’t. It would be remiss of him to say that those with Visions are less powerful—in fact, Diluc has known several people with impressive goals who didn’t have them. Majority of Mondstadt’s population is Vision-less, especially the Adventurer’s Guild across Teyvat.

Besides, he knows the feeling of being separated from his Vision. He has been waiting for the moment that he feels the same emptiness as he did before, but strangely enough, it doesn’t seem as painful as it was back then. He hadn’t been able to use his pyro back then, only aided by the Delusion, but as per his previous attempts, he was still able to summon fire.

Case in point, the wall of air that has been perpetually spinning around them has taken on a dome-like shape.

Whatever was triggering the shield, the sight could not be denied to be a beautiful array of blue-greens and reds. They swirled calmly around them, both hot and cool, depending on Diluc’s mood. Adelinde had remarked beforehand that if he had been younger, the heat wave that he had released back then would’ve been nothing against to what they might have been feeling at the moment. He didn’t want to believe it, but it’s nothing short of a miracle that the dome encasing them has not turned them into one of Natlan’s famous volcanic saunas; the wind seemed to cool the pyro energy that infuses itself once in a while in the air, as if tempering the wildfire than making it stronger.

Diluc narrows his eyes as he watches elemental energy weave into the barrier once again, now anemo almost… playfully joining in the fray. They twirled around, boosting the shield upwards, and then went away.

Are those… anemograna? Why are they here?

He’s seen them before. They essentially were curious beings that tended to rotate in threes, making pillars of air shoot out randomly in Mondstadt. While he has never bothered them before—he was perfectly capable without the boost of anemo aiding his movements—he could not deny that he was fascinated by them. Not quite mindless like slimes which operate on emotion, especially the angry anemo ones, but not quite the intelligence of whopperflowers.

Belatedly, he realizes that he’s walked towards the door just to see the little creatures.

“Diluc, dear, that better not be a claymore greeting me.”

Diluc thinks he’s just the healthy amount of paranoid, which is why his first response to the call was to raise his hand forward, in the action of whipping out his claymore. Suitably justified, when he knew that Adelinde was in the backroom, and not in the front porch.

He blinks when he comes face to face with none other than Lisa Minci, the Ordo’s Librarian.

Thank Teyvat that I didn’t just pull a weapon on her.

“Miss Lisa,” he greets while straightening his posture, pressing his mouth to hide his fluster. The woman was good in making suggestive remarks, and despite trying his utmost best, he knows that she had seen through him.

He huffs, and steps aside, letting her in.

At least I know that Miss Fischl is quite reliable, he muses to himself. Though I’m surprised that she actually went out of Mondstadt on her own will. I was planning for our correspondence to be through the usual means of messaging.

He knows her dislike for doing “dirty work”, claiming that she was a bit lazy in doing anything physical. However, he’s seen the library; before she came to Mondstadt, disgruntled knights punished by the Grandmaster tended to the library. That is to say, it wasn’t so much in disarray, but rather the library wasn’t as kept as it was until Lisa came. Armed with a stellar resume from the Academia and a pleasing—flirty—attitude, accompanied with great skills, she quickly got the position.

She claims that she’s lazy, but now, as she stands in front of Diluc, she is anything but.

“Your Vision,” she murmurs, eyes darting to where it supposedly would be if it was on his person. Diluc bows his head minutely, and her eyes widen. “Then that night…?”

“It seems that I have lost it,” he presupposes, but judging by the scoff she emits, they both knew that it wasn’t just the case. She hums as she heads towards the couch.

Before he closes the door, he sees a bunch of people—one that suspiciously looks like Nimrod, Kaeya damn you, and his maids in the Winery.

Great. I don’t know what kind of story they’ll spin with this again, Archons.

“Don’t think about it too much.” Lisa reassures languidly. “Mondstadt needs a little gossip here and there.”

“I’d rather the gossip not to be associated with either of us, as we are both dedicated to our peaceful work.”

“Is that what they call it nowadays?”

“It is,” Diluc sighs, sitting down across her. “If my suspicion for the reason as to why you are here is true.”

It’s not as if he doesn’t know why Lisa was here. Fischl had given him a hint that somehow, the librarian knew of what happened that night, or at least had felt something shift during that evening. By that point, even far from the source of the incident, she knew more than him.

He had debated on meeting up with her, but he would if he could control the bursts of air that seemed to emit from him when he loses his focus. The singed headboard of his bed is a testament to the loss of control. Not to mention the haphazard state of his room was in when Adelinde had fetched him before. Idly, he hopes that Lisa wouldn’t open his bedroom door.

Then again, he’s been subjected to her method of conversation. She didn’t seem to be someone who’d allay a conversation with double entendre, because that was more of Kaeya’s expertise; what he knows is that Miss Lisa would try to parse the whole story by urging someone willingly.

A different kind of coercion, but more preferable for him.

“Seems like whenever we meet alone,” Lisa says instead as she pats the couch pillow, “—there’s something big going down on you. Then I have to hear the whole story to piece it all up because you’re going to play Mister Mysterious, Master Diluc.”

“The last time we spoke anything remotely serious, it was about my… resignation from the Knights, so forgive me if I was reluctant to talk to the Knights’ Librarian about its dirty laundry,” he says drily. The tone obviously amuses Lisa, judging from the smile on her face.

Diluc catches movement in the kitchen, and motions Adelinde to fetch them a drink. He turns his attention back to Lisa, and sits on the opposite chair.

“That it was, but I’m hardly a knight, and you know that.”

“Still surprised that you turned down being in a higher position… You were more suited than anyone else, in my opinion.”

She tilts her head, eyes alight. “But I’ve said before, the work isn’t my type. I’m no leader, and my expertise is in books, and bookkeeping. All that history and knowledge in shambles… it was my calling, and I’m quite happy where I am.”

“Defending books.” Diluc murmurs under his breath, fully knowledgeable about Lisa’s might. He’s seen the skies turn purple when Lisa had to defend the library from thieves and enemies alike, twice—once when he was chasing said thief, and the other when the Traveler had accompanied her for book accounting. The purple spread had reminded him of Inazuma. Jean had a reason to bring her when she’s on patrol—the mage was competent and formidable. “More noble than other knights, that’s for sure.” He tacks on.

Lisa smiles, though there is a strange look in her eyes that Diluc cannot parse. However, the look is gone before he could delve in it any further. “Flattery, Master Diluc, it suits you—not more than any brash personality Sir Kaeya embellishes you with in his stories. You’re quite the man, aren’t you? All brash with the enemies, endearingly polite or tired with the majority, shy with the cuties.” She leans forward, tapping her fingers on her cheek. “I’ve heard about your ventures, all mysterious at night. Then again, it’s never for yourself, if the stories of the Knights are true.”

Diluc tries not to show any emotion but turning to look if Adelinde is done with the drinks. Fortunately, either she had heard of what Lisa had been saying or that she was just incredibly efficient at blocking certain topics, she appears at the exact moment. As he takes the cup of grape juice for himself, he shrugs.

Another moment passes, before Lisa says idly, “It’s quite windy here. More than usual, I think.”

It was the statement he was waiting for her to say, and hearing it finally makes him release the tension he’s been building in his own body. I still can’t control it, he thinks to himself in disappointment, even after a whole night of trying to regulate that thrumming power in his veins.

If this whole pleasant charade still continues, he doesn’t know if even his practiced cool—and indifference—will hold up before something gets damaged.

“Just tell me why you’re here.” he murmurs, placing his drink down. “If it was for an afternoon of tea, which I know you like Miss Lisa, I’d have it somewhere nicer. Hardly here. Though Adelinde does make great tea.”

While it was hardly a joke, since he would have afternoon tea with the librarian if she so indicated, Lisa laughs, in an airy (and amused? Pleased?) manner. It might be a good response, but Diluc doesn’t know what to do with that. It’s difficult to understand someone who sounds like they’re flirting and teasing seriously at the same time.

Great, the paranoia is reaching even Miss Lisa, he chides himself, and he grips his glass tighter to straighten his thoughts.

Her eyes flits towards the trees that were enthusiastically moving in the wind, and turns her gaze towards him. “Hm. I guess we can’t stall for any more pleasantries at this rate, though I do like a straightforward man. Business it is.” She tilts her head to the side, almost too calmly despite what she says next. “Your Vision. It isn’t lost, isn’t it?”

He lets out a small, disbelieving sigh. Well, that’s adept. There’s no need to lie when she went here for a reason. “…No. I’ve searched for it in the higher chance that it has been stolen, but I tried to enlist the help of Adelinde and Elzer and even…” even Bennett, Razor and Fischl, he doesn’t say, “—but nothing. There weren’t any indications that it had been stolen at all, and no elemental energy residues.”

“It didn’t just disappear.” Lisa surmises. Her fingers drum on her lap. “That night. Did you feel a strong pulse go through you? Did you have any visions, warnings, anything out of the ordinary?”

I was warned by Barbatos himself, but she doesn’t know that Venti is the Anemo Archon. But.

“…I did have visions, flashes of images before my eyes. They seem to be large pillars, and a throne room. Someone spoke to me, but I don’t remember what the words were. Then it was just searing, white pain. It was unlike any pain I’ve ever felt before.” He pauses, considering, remembering the blinding hot thrumming in his veins, the screams that he couldn’t push down even if he wanted to.

He recalls Adelinde’s horrified retelling of what had happened, and how Razor had been woken up by his screams even in Wolvendom. He laughs morosely. “I don’t even know why I’m still alive, after that.”

He observes as Lisa sips her tea again, the picture of serenity as she closes her eyes shut. However, he knows that’s how she thinks about many things—as if opening her eyes would distract her from rifling through her mental faculties. “Absolutely nothing suspicious ingested, or at put into you that may contribute to hallucinations and pain?”

“None at all,” he says resolutely. “No thieves as well. There are people assigned to patrol the premises day and night, to the best of their ability. No one had gone into my house, and no one had stayed if there were any visitors. If they were truly hallucinations or dreams, then they might be from the books I’ve read about fantasy because from the descriptions… what I had seen was –“

“Celestia.” Lisa finishes, and with a tone that brooks no argument, though Diluc didn’t even try to contest it.

“Dreams are not always sensible,” he tries, because jumping to the wrong conclusion would not bode well to anyone. No matter how much he wants to demand answers directly to what he thinks was the source—he’s not suicidal to challenge the realm of the gods.

He had suspected that it was a message from Celestia once he had woken up, but he doesn’t want to believe in that particular theory. Not till he knows someone would confirm it. If only anyone could find a certain god, then maybe his questions would have the slightest of answers; he knows that there was a huge possibility that the former Archon would know.

There was that ominous warning, that night. Venti knew something, and he had theorized for the past few days that he knew a lot.

Lisa’s previously relaxed stance on the sofa was lost however; there was an urgency in her actions. Now, she’s sitting on the edge, as if she wants to exit immediately, or needs to retrieve something.

“Miss Lisa,” he tries to placate, “I wouldn’t presume that it’s anything related to Celestia—”

“It’s safe to assume, in this case.” Lisa cuts in sharply, and she suddenly stands up, arms outstretched.

She conjures up her catalyst and does a spell instantaneously, and the swiftness of her incantation would have left him with awe if it weren’t for the… franticness that the normally lackadaisical librarian wouldn’t show.

Diluc snaps his mouth shut, eyes wide. Electro seems to infiltrate the air, and his hairs were standing straight it was uncomfortable.

The spell that she was uttering suddenly ends. The room explodes in blinding purple light, and the boom of thunder seems to sound off inside their area, almost deafening in its execution. Diluc had to wait for a few seconds in order for his sight and hearing to adjust back normally.

The space between them in a second is then blocked with a tower of five books of varying thickness, none less than five centimeters in width. She fishes out a book, and thrusts it towards him. The label proudly displays the title, Magic Circulation: Energy Regulation. The others on the table read similar titles, dealing with energy regulation, elemental conduits, power limiters, and power transformation.

This is making me feel like those generators in Fontaine, he thinks in disbelief. What in Teyvat indicated her that I needed these books—

As if hearing his thoughts, Lisa whips her head at him with deadly seriousness that Diluc instinctively sets his attention to her.

“I can only offer you these, Diluc.” Lisa says in a low tone, head bowed. “Whatever you are feeling right now, you have to lay low, and read these.”

“What?”

“I don’t know what you’ve been delving into, but if you want to live, you have to lie low, or stop,” she presses on, each word grave and worded as a warning as she walks towards him. “There are many things worth pursuing, especially in the realm of knowledge. Yet, if there is anything that I have learned throughout the years, this is one of those moments that you should absolutely stop.”

“What are you talking about?” Diluc demands, trying to quell the underlying fear that was coursing in his mind. Ones that he didn’t want to entertain—punishment and danger circulated in his mind. He had known that there was something greatly off with what was happening to him, but he didn’t know how bad it was.

The heat on his hands almost manifest, and he clenches them in desperate focus; he needs to keep any flame at bay. “What do you mean, Miss Lisa?”

 “I have seen this scenario before, Diluc.” Lisa whispers. “I studied in Sumeru, and yearned for knowledge and wisdom, just like any other person who wants to achieve. Sumeru prides itself to be a land of the wise, of those that have reached enlightenment and full understanding of the inner workings of the world. Scholars from every part of the world try to get into the Akademiya, and it is not a small feat to be included in them.”

Diluc knows of the rigorous requirements of the Akademiya—he’s seen and heard of everything they do. Scholars left and right detail the need to submit theses and dissertations every year, enough to drive their students into the deep end and quit. Yet he knows Lisa isn’t talking about the known facts about the Akademiya. She sounds as if she… knew more than she was supposed to know.

“Whatever it might be,” he presses, because unlike before, where he had been so naïve to think that everything was black and white—he knows better. Carelessness in the field that he works in is unforgivable, and he’s given up several months’ worth of rest in order to ensure that things go as smooth as possible, for the benefit of the majority. “Miss Lisa. I guarantee that it is for the good of Mondstadt and for its allies.”

“I am more acquainted with the Hexenzirkel more than you know, Diluc. You're deliving into territory that I... You are making a mistake if you keep up whatever you’re trying to do,” she hisses, and underneath the anger, he could hear fear—fear that was eerily resonating with his own. Fear that he has been trying to tamp down ever since he woke after that night.

The winds outside howl in response.

“I’ve seen scholars become mad because of their pursuit of knowledge, mages trapped in positions of power where they stagnate and die. It all starts with dreaming, Diluc. They claim that it's their fate and then the next move, nothing. It’s not a worthy endeavor to pursue.”

There is something in her voice that he couldn’t decipher—he was never the best in fishing out information through feelings and emotions. There have been many times that his actions have been misinterpreted into other things, when he thought he was genuinely just conveying how he felt. It was the same to the other party; after all, he has thought different to even the citizens of Mondstadt, when his mannerisms were just the issue.

It was obvious that Lisa knows more.

He waits till she goes quiet, before meeting her gaze.

“If it isn’t just a normal dream, or a hallucination,” he says quietly, because he knows that it was Celestia, he knows he saw the Thrones, and he knows that his Vision isn’t lost. “Miss Lisa. What does it mean?”

It takes a few moments for her to respond, and when she does, Diluc stills.

“It means that… their eyes are on you.”

.

.

.

He reigns the searing hot energy down at bay, but couldn’t keep himself from gasping in loss of breath.

.

.

.

Celestia has its eyes on him.

“What?” He whispers, as if his world was once again tilted, as if the rain was thundering in his ears once more, as if he could feel the blood on his hands, the ice and the snow and anger and horror once realizing what the world truly was.

Now, as phenomena and histories of the world started to be unearthed, from Sal Vindagnyr and the Skyfrost Nail, to the Underground Civilization discovered under the depths of the Chasm—Celestia’s gaze on him spelled something different.

Lisa’s gaze was something in between pity, fear, and silent sorrow, and all of those Diluc didn’t know how to handle.

“Whatever happened that night, I only knew because I’ve read about it before, and knew it was dangerous knowledge to even be aware.” She murmurs. “I know not to pursue it because it all made sense. Sumeru wasn’t safe anymore, and it felt like there was nowhere to turn to. I could’ve gone to Liyue, which is busier, but it wasn’t right to settle down in a bustling down. I returned to Mondstadt, my home, the place that felt safest to me.”

“The land with the absentee Archon.”

Lisa nods.

It makes sense to Diluc. If the Archon, the appointed seat of Celestia, was absent, then there was a lesser chance of being in contact with them. Mondstadt would’ve been the safest for a runaway, especially one who preferred to allay her responsibilities to different people, except library work. It would make the most sense.

But the Anemo Archon was not absent, nor was he far at all.

Maybe Lisa might not know the whole picture, but that doesn’t mean that she knows everything.

“Whatever had struck that night, Celestia had made it known to those who dreamed that they do not tolerate certain… paths.” She continues, oblivious to his thoughts. “Certain types of knowledge is prohibited though… I do not know what, for certain. I thought that lying low was the best path to take, and it has bought me years. I’ve convinced myself that it might have been just Sumeru’s Akademiya—the place of highest knowledge and wisdom—that this would happen. Until that night.”

Both of them are staring at one another, neither blinking.

He exhales.

He didn’t know what to think—where to even pinpoint what he “has” to stop. There were many things that he tries to do for the good of Mondstadt. The Fatui has branded him persona non grata for a reason, the Abyss Order had attempted to dispose of him in their venture to ransack and take over the city, and he doesn’t have the most stellar reputation with Teyvat’s monster population because he’s made it his personal vendetta to contribute in decimating their population. In business affairs, he doesn’t think that Celestia would care about his negotiations and networking; in his personal affairs—well. That was something he didn’t want to think about that Celestia would even touch, but the implications are unpleasant.

He should concede and be diplomatic; it was how his father raised him, after all. There were battles to fought and retreated from, and there was always a safer choice. There was always a backup plan, and a contingency, and the world was never just black and white; it was rarely just about peace and war.

It was rarely about reputation and control. It was rarely about sacrifice and honor.

Diluc prided himself for the change he has forced himself to go through in the past years, but there were things he would not just let go. It was the same for his father, for the Ordo, for Kaeya, for the Fatui, and for everything else.

Too many already forget their past, those that gave their efforts and live just mere nothing in the grand scheme of Teyvat.

He was not one of those that will forget.

“Your research, the one you refuse to talk about in your time from Sumeru,” Diluc murmurs, clenching his fist. The question that he’s always wanted to ask the former Akademiyan burns in his tongue, and he forces himself to speak. “Did it… did you find something about the reality of Visions?”

It was probably the wrong response—or the right one—because Lisa visibly reigns in her reaction. Yet it’s plain to him that he had struck true.

“Master Ragnvindr,” Lisa warns in cold ferocity, eyes narrowed at him. The room pulses with electro. “If you truly love Mondstadt from what I know you of, whatever knowledge you are trying to pursue, you have to stop because their eyes are on you.”

Celestia’s eyes will be on you.

“And what will happen, Miss Lisa?” He demands with narrowed eyes. “We will remain ignorant to the price of the Vision, just like we did before Inazuma’s Vision Hunt Decree. We stay clueless of the Fatui’s obsession with Delusions and whatever their goal is with the different nations. We stay vulnerable to the plot of the Abyss Order.”

Silence descends between them, and Diluc steadfastly tracks Lisa’s reaction.

He’s surprised when her shoulders, held straight and defiant as she corrected him, slumps down in defeat.

“Then we must be ignorant in the laws of Teyvat’s eyes. It is the truth of this world,” Lisa says quietly. “We are forced to keep our boundaries, to know only what we only need to know. Irrelevant details fade into the wind as time goes on.”

“Lisa,” Diluc murmurs, looking down, drained. Anyone could hear the apology in her tone. Diluc wasn’t heartless and ignorant not to see it. “That shouldn’t…”

“I only know a little about Visions, even if I was a scholar of Sumeru focused on researching about them.” She reaches out to let him sit, and he doesn’t shrug off the gesture. “They were given by the gods, and those that had them, were told to be chosen by Celestia. They’re thought to be miracles from our Archons, blessings for humans to change the world. Yet time and time again, I had seen that they come with such a high price that people were most likely not ready nor willing to pay.”

Delusions, and their backlash, his mind supplies. The fact that only a few get them for different, arbitrary reasons, which had spurred greed, envy and divide with other people.

Power.

Ambition.

Celestia.

Slowly, electro dissipates from the air, the only signal that her spell had been taken down.

The way she has spoken to him the whole time, and the fact that she had actually gone out to meet him… he knows that Lisa has come to treat Mondstadt her home, even after Sumeru. He knows the feeling of being displaced, and still finding one’s home in this city. They want to keep it safe, especially from those that may spell danger for their home.

Yet he knows that they have—and will respond to this issue differently.

Lisa has chosen to back down.

He doesn’t seem to have that luxury in his mind.

“If I will discover things that should not be brought to light, then it will be my burden to keep it in the dark if it keeps everyone safe.” Diluc vows, looking steadily at Lisa’s gaze. “I have made it my belief that I’m ready to face anything that comes in my way, in the name of the future. Whatever research or job that I do, it is in that vein, and I do not tend to treat it lightly.”

“…If research and previous sayings are true, then the fact that you have dreamt of Celestia is a sign that you are favored by the gods,” Lisa starts walking to the door, her catalyst shimmering as it disappears in the air. “Yet from my own observations and experience, they say the opposite.”

“If that is the price to pay,” Diluc admits. He opens the door for her, watching as she straightens her dress. “I am ready, Miss Lisa, and I would do my best in keeping us safe.”

As she steps out of the house, she gazes back to him, eyes calculating and sharp. Diluc doesn’t know how to convey that he means it—that he’d die for Mondstadt, no matter how much pain he has gone through because of it, and that he’d do his all to keep his people safe. He would, even to his dying breath.

All for Mondstadt.

He startles when a hand touches his cheek.

“And this may be the Knight the Ordo misses,” Lisa murmurs, something in her voice that makes Diluc’s cheeks flare in surprise. “There are things that I know to back down from, but that might be because I was never much of a fighter. It’s nice,” she laughs softly. “To know that someone out there loves our city as strong as you.”

She removes her hand, and simultaneously he steps back in embarrassment. His next words are rough, but that was just because he doesn’t know what to say. “I only do what I can, Miss Lisa. I know that you had done your best for Sumeru. I believe that when the time comes, you’ll do the same for Mondstadt as well.”

“Shy, polite, and endearingly gruff gentleman,” Lisa laughs, a bright smile on her face as she starts to walk away. “I guess I’ve been treated to a private performance by Mondstadt’s most eligible bachelor, hm? I had a pleasant talk with you. Let’s have afternoon tea next time, okay? My treat.”

“…It’ll be my pleasure, Miss Lisa.”

PRESENT, AFTER BARBATOS’ PROCLAMATION

“What do you mean by that? What in Teyvat happened?” Kaeya demands in a controlled tone, though both knew that it was only a laughable screen for his genuine worry for Diluc. “Diluc!”

It takes him a moment to focus, lost in his thoughts for whatever that happened earlier—and every event that had led up to it. There were so many things that he admits he does not understand, but Diluc pulls himself together knowing that Kaeya was demanding answers.

When he meets gazes with Kaeya, somehow, he’s transported to the past, remembering a younger Kaeya and a younger him.

“What do I do? They’re going to be mad at us!”

“They won’t, I’m telling you. Besides, they saw me, not you. Just be quiet when they interrogate us. I’ll have a cover story ready.

“You’re bad at lying!”

“But I’m a Ragnvindr. Even if I’m lying, the expense would be focused on us being young and reckless, doing those stunts. They’ll know I’m a Knight-in-training. I’ll probably get a scolding, but I wouldn’t suffer, I promise! Stop looking at me like that. I swear you’ll be safe.”

Worry, fear, anxiety, and confusion clouded Kaeya’s visible eye. He was standing in a defensive posture, as if he was trying to ward off any invisible enemies in their vicinity. The placements, though familiar nowadays, continues to send Diluc a reminder of what has been, and what he had lost already.

It also reminds him of what he has now, and Diluc grasps on the epiphany of what to say. The energy building up him churns uncomfortably, and he has no choice but to let a fraction of it out.

The wind starts to move fast, almost drowning out his response. Though from the look of anger on Kaeya’s face, he knows that the man had heard it.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Kaeya bursts out, eye glinting dangerously. “It’s none of my concern?”

“Kaeya. I had a moment of weakness—”

“A moment of weakness?”

“It was a moment of weakness and I apologize for worrying you,” he says, as honestly as he could convey, because he was being honest. He wants Kaeya to know, to understand, what he’s trying to do. “What happened earlier was a misstep on my part. It is none of your concern.”

Kaeya’s eye is still narrowed at him, and he knows that he has to convince the man—if else, he would pursue further with his own investigation, and Celestia knows how he conducts his own investigations. Additionally, the man had the backing of the Knights—as the citizen of Mondstadt, he would’ve had that jurisdiction to investigate upon suspicious activities, which unfortunately is where Diluc’s future endeavors would lie on.

Diluc doesn’t want his sworn brother to be his enemy, and he doesn’t want Mondstadt to be affected by his situation.

There was only one way, and he has to let him understand.

“I hand pick grapes by myself, as I personally tend to the grapevines with the greatest harvest, because some of the younger recruits tend to bruise the grapes that I use for grape juice.”

I will look onto this situation by myself. It is my endeavor. I do not require assistance, nor your aid, as you may get hurt in being involved.

“Should the young master really be the one to do that work?” Kaeya presses, arm outstretched as if to shake Diluc. Do you really need to be alone?

“I am a Ragnvindr,” he says on immediately, and isn’t able to understand the gravity of his statement as he watches Kaeya step back, as if staggered by a physical blow.

The expression of worry on Kaeya’s face melts into forced amusement, and even Diluc winces at the blatantly fake expression.

“…I see.” Kaeya murmurs, hand falling to his side.

A flash of something passes through Kaeya’s face, and Diluc curses himself for being too slow to read it—or for Kaeya being so utterly excellent in hiding his real emotions.

“That’s it then,” Kaeya says in faux cheer, clapping his hands. Diluc feels his chest tighten at the display, but he’s already said it.  He’s told Kaeya what he needs for him to do, and that he’s prepared to confront whatever mission he’s on, alone. It was the nature of their arrangement, when using codes and in gauging their business—especially for Diluc, who operates as, essentially, a vigilante.

“I do the usual. I cover for you in the Knights, while you do gods-know-what and I’ll only be updated through a letter, maybe.” Kaeya continues. “I’ll pretend that I didn’t see what happened earlier, because you’re going to do your lone wolf agenda, huh. That’s it, then.”

Diluc turns his head towards the direction of Mondstadt, and then bows his head.

The less you know, the more that everyone will be safe.

The more that you will be safe.

“Please,” he says in the most sincere, vulnerable tone he could muster, and he sees Kaeya still at the tone.

There was so much he doesn’t know yet, but it also meant that those who would be informed of what he does would suffer. Lisa had warned him of the price of knowledge, especially under Celestia’s terms, and he doesn’t want to risk it. He already has caused pain before for not being able to do his best in the past—he would not make the same mistake now. Whatever is happening to him should be his burden alone.

He can’t let people down again.

“Keep out of this, Kaeya.”

Something must have shown on his face—or in his tone—because Kaeya nods, tight-lipped and chilly smile on. Diluc doesn’t know if he was able to dissuade the other man from pursuing his own investigation, but he hopes that his apprehension would already be enough to deter him.

That wouldn’t really be the case, as Kaeya was a curious person in general. It was one of his greatest, and most annoying qualities.

Before he could pull away from him, however, Kaeya is quick to pull on his collar, redirecting him to walk towards Mondstadt.

“You’re going to rest, and don’t even try to tell me you don’t need to because I saw you almost collapse earlier.” Kaeya says sweetly, and Diluc tries to push his face away in annoyance. “I’m going to keep my mouth sealed tightly shut for you, no Knights nor Adventurers nor any Mondstadter would know about your silly escapades. In return, you go and actually rest.”

“I still have to check on Venessa,” Diluc protests, moving under Kaeya’s arm to move away. “It’s been three days since—”

“Adelinde will order her to go to Mondstadt, and you’ll do your lovely bird call and get her when she’s here.” At least Kaeya wasn’t strong-arming him towards the tavern anymore; he was a perfectly fine. “What you need is a good night’s rest. I won’t leave till you sleep, because I know you might go Dark Knight Hero on me without me looking.”

Diluc sighs, rubbing his face, feeling the exhaustion creeping in. “Don’t call me that. It’s abhorrent.”

“You should file a change of name, I heard it’s free in the Knights. They’d love your assistance despite being a vigilante, you know. Huffman already vouches for you, and we both know that guy—”

“Kaeya,” Diluc cuts him short, because he has no desire to revisit the organization of his past, let alone his past in general after everything. “You have my gratitude. Go to sleep as well. I know you headed straight to me after your mission; I will not go out or do anything exhausting.”

While he might sound overcompensating, it really was true—he was dead-tired. So many things have happened in the span of a short time period, yet then again, his life was always an adrenaline ride; he really should be more adjusted to the fact that this was generally his life, after fighting a literal dragon a year ago.

Kaeya stares at him for a while, before nodding, opening the tavern door to exit. Diluc waits for him to leave, but Kaeya doesn’t move from the door.

“…Kaeya?” He tentatively calls out.

As if pulled out from a trance, Kaeya blinks, and shakes his head. He turns, a practiced movement that looks naturally nonchalant, if not for the fact that Diluc knew that he was close to yelling at him earlier.

“Don’t be a martyr, Master Diluc.” Kaeya says, turning halfway to look back at him. He’s amused, but he falters when Kaeya’s gaze darkens, shielded from further questioning as he heads out to the tavern. “Mondstadt needs you up and running.”

I doubt that, he thinks, but doesn’t say it out loud.

He waits for a few moments before going to the tavern’s secluded room, and breathes in.

The moment he truly relaxes—when he forces his muscles to untense, to close his eyes and connect with the world and meditate, the build-up of energy he’s been painstakingly keeping together expels to the ground. The contents of the room, as minimal as they were since the upper room of the tavern was merely a temporary reprieve for him, rattle at the burst of anemo that expels from his fingertips.

Kaeya was right. I haven’t realized how exhausted I am till now.

He snaps his fingers and light flames on his hands, coating them in balls of fire. The steady flux of energy flows around him, a reminder of what he is as of the moment.

A human that attracted the gaze of the gods of Celestia, he surmises, and it sounds ridiculous. It is a punishment in itself.

Diluc stares at the sway of pyro in his hands, and the way his hair floats amidst the anemo.

Celestia has not taken the so-called gnosis from me, as I can still wield anemo, he thinks to himself wearily. I was lucky that they only think I have fever, but I have to keep this under control.

Venti—Barbatos told me that I had gone through a test from Celestia, and they deemed me worthy as his successor.

He clenches his fist, and watches as the pyro swirls in front of him. The energy bursts in his hands, and he wills them to a burst of crystalflies than pyro and anemo; it would not bode well for the tavern to burn down just because his composure faltered.

Still, they’re pushing this dangerous amount of energy in me, into a mere human, as if they expect me to accept being Archon. That, for all intents and purposes, I would not refuse.

If the gnosis is Celestia’s ‘gift’ that cannot be refused, then there is a higher purpose at play. It implies that with it, I would be able to control the power bestowed upon it; yet also with it, means that I am effectively connecting myself to Celestia.

Celestia’s gaze is now fully on him, and it is not an act of benevolence.

He has sworn that he will not rely on the gods, nor will he place full faith in Celestia’s outlook, especially with Kaeya’s background. He knows how cruel they could be; to fully entrust himself to them meant an equivalent to a curse.

To him, they could mean it as a punishment to his own investigations—after all, unearthing the truth of Visions was his endeavor in the network. The majority of his work is to protect Mondstadt. The fact that their response is to make me Archon, he muses. Is it due to my investigations with the Fatui’s obsession with collecting artifacts of Barbatos? Or the Abyss Order’s recent increase of activity in Dragonspine, of all places?

…Or something else?

Diluc lies down on the bed and closes his eyes, feeling the dredges of sleep creeping in. Tomorrow, he needs to arrange a few things, because he knows that his current problem with regulating energy would be detrimental to everyone, especially himself. If he is to continue understanding Celestia’s motives, then he must be equipped to handle the test that they’ve thrown at him.

They granted me Archonhood without sufficient reason.

Fine, then.

I’ll find the answers myself.

Chapter Text

KAEYA

Someone is going to die. Or, at the very least, have a… chat with him.

It’s been a long time since he’s felt the ice-cold frost of hatred grip his heart—he remembers, as clear as the sky, that it was on the night his father left him behind. Mixed with the anger was a deep, despairing fear and hurt that no matter what he did, would not go away. The words of his father would echo night and day, as he met the people of Mondstadt, and as he met the Ragnvindrs.

That’s been almost two decades ago, and the feeling of hatred has never resurfaced… until now.

Kaeya Alberich is not a man privy to hate. No, the diabolical thing about learning about emotions and societal interactions is that there is a detachment when observing them play out. He understands how people react in certain situations, and if he did not, he willingly puts them in the line and gauges the proceedings. Other knights would say he was unpredictable, and sometimes unfeeling; he would say he’s just being sure. No man left behind is the motto until a ruin guard faces one’s way—then it’s a free-for-all.

Diluc Ragnvindr was the first person to always come back.

Indeed, they had their fights. One worse than the others, a scar or two exchanged. That time was also the first and last time he willingly ignored his penchant for knowing emotions and feelings—retribution was to be had, and who was better to deliver the true blow?

He remembers the horror on Diluc’s face, and the way he panicked, as if brought out of the haze of anger. The fear palpable on his face, the struck look so reminiscent to when he had arrived in the bloody scene of Crepus’ last stand. The rain had been thundering, the chill of the Vision freezing the droplets hitting the ground, as if mimicking Kaeya’s funny realization of his ironic ‘injury’; the rain on Diluc’s side had been evaporating, the vaporizing water making it look like Diluc’s anger had been steaming off of him.

There was the inappropriate urge to laugh, again, that time. Thankfully, he didn’t ignore his head, and instead lowered his sword.

Diluc’s shout to call the healers still echoes in his mind to this day… to hear the fear in his mind snapped something in Kaeya’s head, a sudden awed realization.

Diluc Ragnvindr wears his emotions to his sword, his heart to his sleeve, and his loyalty to his soul.

No matter how much that night has shaken them, Kaeya understands what had happened, and he knows that Diluc did as well. Though they had diverged into surprising paths, they will always have each other’s backs. They’ve sworn on it, after all.

Seeing Diluc terrified had been enough.

Seeing that haunted look on his face—to hear the most ominous words be said by him—was enough.

The fact that Diluc crashes after the most gut-wrenching sob he’s ever heard in his life cements Kaeya’s impulsive plan.

Friend or not, Kaeya knows that Venti will be dead when he sees him.

Kaeya has made a grave mistake, and that was leaving Diluc alone in the tavern to rest by himself. For gods’ sakes—they’ve known each other for more than a decade, and he’s already forgotten that the Dark Knight Hero had a tendency to disappear effectively. Kaeya wants to badmouth his younger self—after all, Diluc had learned everything from him, and somehow got better because while a child could be lost in a crowd, a man with the brightest, reddest hair in all of Teyvat isn’t someone that should ever be missed.

Yet now, he’s standing in the middle of the tavern, quietly rethinking his life choices, and also silently cursing Diluc for being experienced enough in handling his own bouts of protectiveness.

I guess that’s what I get for revealing my own worry yesterday, now the idiot would probably think that he burdened me with his feelings. Kaeya snorts in mild amusement; unfortunately, he’s become an expert with approaching the unsure disposition of Diluc. Putting the thought aside, he walks outside of the tavern, spotting Patton on the side. The man was bringing the tables and chairs outside, as per his usual routine in the morning.

“As always, hard at work in the early morning,” he greets, and Patton, from his crouching position, looks up and smiles.

“Sir Kaeya,” he answers back, hefting up a small box full of Sunsettias. “A good morning to you.”

“Good morning as well. I was here to pick up—or well, meet with our dear grumpy bartender, but it seems that he’s escaped me.” He sighs, bunching his shoulders. “Master Diluc is a difficult man to make any kind of meetings with if he’s actively avoiding me.”

Patton grins at the mental image. “Give him some slack, Sir Kaeya. I don’t even think the man had some quality sleep for the last week. He’d probably drop dead onto his bed if he even tried to relax for a moment, but I do agree with him being high-strung. He actually was on fire earlier—I know he was a formidable fighter back in the day, but man, it’s hard to reconcile that Master Diluc with the Master Diluc that bartends…”

Back in the day, Kaeya repeats in his mind, and it makes him roll his eyes inwardly. How Mondstadt still thinks that Master Diluc wasn’t one of the strongest fighters of Mondstadt despite his hand in controlling the Stormterror situation surprises him, but this was Mondstadt after all—freedom to be who you are as long as you’re not hurting other people is a staple for any citizen. Many people would turn a blind eye to a background that might be dubious, but obviously been left behind.

Grandmaster Varka was a large proponent of that idea, between the nuns of the Church of Barbatos and the Adventurer’s Guild housing.

Come to think of it, people not piecing together Diluc being their nightly vigilante might be a touch more sensible than I really thought, he thinks mindlessly as he bides Patton farewell. Though I’m surprised that they wouldn’t just follow the traces of pyro everywhere… Barbatos knows that only one of Mondstadt’s citizens wields pyro to that extent.

Kaeya switches to his Elemental Sight to follow the traces of Diluc’s elemental energy, but groans to himself when even that wouldn’t work.

The whole area, due to the nature of elemental sight, is decorated with large amounts of elemental energy from everyone that wields the Vision for their jobs on a daily basis. He knows that Bennett’s and Klee’s pyro energies are explosive, so their elemental energy shows up as specks of fire; Noelle’s geo always are most prominent in areas such as fruit stands and whatnot, because she usually helped in areas with heavy lifting.

Curiously, the tavern is full of anemo. Any wisp of pyro is blown out to the sides, as if they were swirled and simultaneously released to the whole room—or pointedly making a statement. Both of the situations makes the ire in Kaeya’s veins grow colder once again because he only knows two people who are quite talented in anemo and allowed in the tavern in random times.

Jean, and he’s pretty sure that the Acting Grandmaster wouldn’t just barge in Diluc’s temporary living quarters, and Venti, the bard that probably sent Diluc into near panic the day before.

His thoughts in finding Diluc suddenly branch out to searching for the green-clad bard. Whichever the two speaks will make me understand what in Teyvat is going on. Unfortunately, I see myself being able to wrench out more answers from Venti than Diluc at this rate.

“Good morning, Sir Kaeya!” A somewhat exasperated voice brings him out of his thoughts, and he looks at the speaker—which was a very exhausted Quinn. Predictably, Beatrice was already hanging around the store, the poor girl probably thinking of another pick-up line to nudge Quinn’s attraction towards her.

There were more things to think about, but Kaeya is a man of many talents. He can multitask worrying over Diluc, plotting against Venti, and pasting a nice smile for the citizens of Mondstadt. They were good sources of information, after all.

“Let me give you a hand in that,” he produces a few snowflakes on top of the fruits, and they descend slowly onto them, creating a nice, hazy mist over the produce. “Woken up too early for the delivery?”

“More like stayed up too late.” Quinn groans as he rubs his face with a towel. “Thanks, Sir Kaeya. Man, I swear, where in the Archon’s name is my head nowadays…”

“Don’t worry about that much, bad days are a norm,” he says lightly, observing Beatrice by the side. She’s still thinking of a pick-up line. “I see you got another special of the Angel’s Share wine. Compromising your health isn’t the best way to keep up a business, Quinn.”

Quinn groans again—hit the bullseye on that—and, in a strange turn of events, Beatrice chimes in the conversation.

“Yeah, no, he wasn’t drunk last night,” she corrects, crossing her arms over her chest. “It might not be really felt on your side of the city, Sir Kaeya, but the wind was absolutely messy in our area. It’s as if the wind felt displeased over something! Knocked down a vase in my house too. Thank god it wasn’t that expensive, a certain someone would throw a fit…”

“Family heirloom?” Kaeya asks, though he’s pretty sure it’s not—his mind was elsewhere, anyway. I have to check their area; it might not have been the wind, but rather anemo. “Or from a secret admirer?”

“Sir Kaeya!” The color on her cheeks confirms his suspicion. “It’s not like that… I mean, I don’t think…yeah, he’s a bit dense…”

The movements from Quinn halts for a moment, and Kaeya glances at him for a moment. “You’ve got a what?”

Oh, Kaeya places his hands on his waist. Am I actually witnessing… jealousy? Sir Dullwits the Oblivious Merchant is… jealous?

“It’s not like that, seriously.”

“But—no way, a secret admirer? Like, secret? Are you even sure that’s a safe vase, at all?”

“We’re not talking about this.”

“Beatrice, we’ve been friends for so long—why not?”

“Uh, because it doesn’t matter! What matters is that the wind was super strong last night Sir Kaeya, seriously, I think Helen might even post a commission to fix the balconies in the area… it was really messy.”

Why is this happening on the day that I’m in the most hurry, really? Kaeya thinks to himself, slanting his gaze towards the Adventurer’s Guild. At least he knows that the direction of the ‘wind’ was on the side of Mondstadt that he wouldn’t have felt; whatever Diluc probably encountered in the tavern was the same thing that Beatrice and Quinn felt last night.

Still, I think I’m watching a major development with these two. Couldn’t this wait till… I don’t know, a week or so.

“Thanks,” he tacks on after a few moments, but as he sees the two bickers with one another—Beatrice probably derailed from her usual weird way of flirting and Quinn actually cognizant of a potential admirer—he’s pretty sure that his gratitude went unnoticed.

Walking up the steps towards the central fountain of Mondstadt, he again spots the remnants of anemo coating the streets; it was definitely more than the usual wind that passes through the city of Mondstadt. Now, if he could only find either Venti whom he knows hangs around the fountain in the morning before his own presentations in the Grand Plaza, or Diluc, because he hasn’t seen Diluc.

“Marjorie, Blanche,” he greets, tilting his head towards the two women. Blanche waves her hand as she prepares a bag of produce for Marjorie, and Marjorie herself smiles in return.

“Good morning, Sir Kaeya. Any chance that you’re here to put actual fruits in your skewers?” Blanche jokes, and Kaeya shakes his head in amusement. “Aw. I’m telling you; it would alleviate your cooking, you know.”

“Fruity skewers are fine already with white wine, and Sara would attest to that even.” Marjorie corrects, facing Kaeya. The shop owner raises her eyebrows. “I saw you and Master Diluc last night! How is he? I’ve heard that he was quite unwell, or from whatever Donna has lamented about for the past week.”

“He’s fine,” Kaeya lies, because even he didn’t know what the redhead’s disposition is—mentally, or physically, even. “Could be better.”

“He seemed pretty frenzied earlier,” Blanche muses out loud. “I swear despite standing still, he’d burn a hole in the ground waiting for Timaeus or Sucrose. The man really has a very imposing aura…”

“Timaeus? Sucrose?”

“Yeah,” Blanche nods. “Apparently, he needed to get a hold of Sir Albedo, from what I understood. I didn’t really get the actual conversation—they’re not the loudest conversers—but that’s what I gathered. Then Sir Albedo came in a hurry, and Master Diluc bought a bunch of supplies from me. From the list, they seem to be heading towards—”

“Dragonspine,” Kaeya finishes, narrowing his eyes towards the direction of the Alchemy table. “Thank you, Blanche. I’ve been wondering where he went to, but if he’s well enough to venture towards the most dangerous part of Mondstadt, he might be better off than I thought.”

Sharp-eyed and clever as she is, Marjorie hums as she hooks the bag of produce onto her arm. “He probably thinks he shouldn’t really burden you with being sick and all. People like him, you know, gauge things by what they can do when they’re up and about.”

“That’s true. I gave him extra potatoes and carrots,” Blanche laughs. “He was surprised, but pleased. Then of course, since he’s rich and all, I’ve got an extra thousand mora all of a sudden…”

“Lucky,” Marjorie sighs. “The most that I saw today is Jose muttering about how Angel’s Share is closed so now he’s going to spend fighting with Venti’s great voice. Not like he’s going to show up today.”

“…Something wrong with Venti?” Kaeya asks slowly.

“Not really,” Marjorie shrugs. “Guy seemed really jittery, more than usual anyway. Master Diluc probably has it out for him, I heard he didn’t pay last time… if you need to locate him, Sir Kaeya, he’s probably at the plaza. That’s his usual time, anyway.”

“I swear, Master Diluc sometimes gives him some weird preferential treatment!” Blanche laughs.

As the two chat together about Diluc’s tendency to ask for payment in virtue of songs from Venti, Kaeya spots Sucrose timidly walking together with Timaeus, with a bundle of whatever knick-knacks she was going to experiment with in the Knights’ laboratory. The captain weighs his options—does he actually pursue Diluc and Albedo in what they were going to do, or wring out information from the bard that somehow impressed upon him the suspicions he’s had in the past?

It says a lot about him that Kaeya’s first thought is to dig in his pocket for his coin and toss it in the air. Heads for Diluc and Albedo, Tails for Venti the bard.

The coin rises up in the air, spinning, spinning, spinning—

Archons, Kaeya—you’re a coward.

He does not cheer when it lands on tails.

Well, Venti, he thinks contemptuously, eyeing the direction of the plaza. No god can save you now.

As a cavalry captain, Kaeya supposes that he is used to having a lot of difficulties in the way. People might say that he slacks off, but he just focuses his attention to the points that the Knights of Favonius can’t really cover; not everyone is equipped with the Vision, but they all still serve the Ordo faithfully. Might as well be useful in areas that even the Dark Knight Hero couldn’t cover. Most of them are hydro-based enemies, a few points of Treasure Hoarder camps, and a wayward abyss mage or two. Information doesn’t get to him easily, but that was the burden of being him.

Thus, he’s quite surprised, or flabbergasted really, that Venti is just right there—playing his lyre in the middle of the plaza. If not for the fact that they drank together in the tavern and bonded by pissing off Diluc, and that it was unbecoming for an officer to give in and just attack a citizen, he’d have frozen the bard’s feet to the little moat around the statue immediately.

He knows that if he lets his anger show, Venti would probably spot it even from afar. The bard was cunning in that way, an individual that had Kaeya’s radar piqued from the moment he met him a year before. The bard just came out of nowhere—and in such a merry way that captured Mondstandt’s heart immediately. Anemo Vision holder with a great grasp of memorizing and making ballads, Venti was a big hit immediately even if the Stormterror Incident was still going along.

There was also the fact that even if Venti didn’t talk about fighting the dragon with the main team, whom Kaeya knows from the Traveler consists of himself and three other people, he was there. Apparently, the cover story was apparently the will of Mondstadt ‘calmed down the poisoned Dvalin, the South Wind of Mondstadt’, and whatever Acting Grandmaster Jean had said back then. Kaeya knows how to read between the lines: Jean probably showed up without the Ordo title, Diluc was too calm about it to not be there, and Venti—well, Stormterror’s situation was acutely recorded in a ballad that Venti had sung afterwards, and Kaeya had a good suspicion that Venti was definitely there.

Besides, Diluc tolerates the bard even with his less-than-appealing penchant to swindle him with songs. Though he supposes that fighting a dragon would even make the unlikely party of a bard, bartender, outlander and officer bond with one another no matter what.

Kaeya steps out of the shadow of the columns in the plaza, placing himself not quite in Venti’s line of vision but close to his periphery. If he was right about Venti being particularly more than “just a bard”, he’d probably spot him immediately.

It takes him three songs—songs Venti proclaims to be Mondstadt’s greatest ballads brought into life—to realize that Venti might just be as petty, actually.

So you want me to confront you in the open, is it, Kaeya muses to himself, refusing to clap loudly when the fourth song ends. You find comfort in the crowds of Mondstadt, after all.

In contrary to what he thinks, Venti makes a flourish of bowing to the crowd almost immediately.

“Thank you, thank you!” Venti bows, and with an impressive display of Vision control, swirls anemo just enough to make himself float without disrupting the people around him. “You’re all so kind! Those sweet smiles on your faces, I’m so glad to find. Why, I’ll be, I’d think it’s a balm to my soul! The joy in my heart is so hard to control. Thank you everyone, and I’ll play again tonight! For now, I’ll be meeting a certain someone that’s caught my sight.”

The whistles and thunderous applause fills the plaza, the joy usually infectious on a normal day. He sees Jose follow the presentation, and Kaeya shakes his head when he remembers Margaret’s earlier words.

Venti doesn’t even spare a glance towards other citizens, heading towards him immediately.

“I see that you’re here to meet me, captain of the cavalry,” Venti nods. “Or I assume, that is; this is no casual endeavor.”

Kaeya allows himself a thin smile.

“Let’s have a pleasant conversation somewhere else, no?”

On a good day, having a chat with a dear friend by the lakeside would be a great way to spend breakfast. Unfortunately, no one has any food at hand, and neither of them are hungry, it seems.

There is almost four meters of distance between him and. Vento, but he’ll allow it. For now.

“I’ll banter with you sometime later, Venti.” Kaeya raises his eyebrow as he watched the bard strum his lyre “The last time we saw one another, a certain someone didn’t feel like he was going to fall in shock.”

He watches as Venti’s fingers pause, and then continue.

“Last night did a number on him; I wonder what had happened. Care to give me a hint?”

Venti hums, but now he turns away from him fully, hiding his face. “Well, now. Captain Kaeya, I don’t think it’s fair to blame me for whatever you think I’ve done.”

“Are we going to play ignorant now? Or innocent?”

“I’m operating on the littlest of information, you see. I don’t want to grasp at straws on whatever you’re trying to communicate—"

Something about the light, guileless tone makes his eyes twitch, and he isn’t able to stop the vitriol that comes out of him.

“It’s Diluc, bard. I’d be a bit more amiable with you, but it’s not the greatest sight to see that one of Mondstadt’s greatest protectors looked like he got spooked last night. Forgive me for blaming you, but you were the one with him last; kind of logical to follow through on the situation, no?”

The bard starts walking, and Kaeya hides the urge to freeze his feet, again. He’s done it before.

“Venti.”

He repeats himself again, and he almost sees red when the bard laughs.

“You know, the Traveler and Paimon used to muse out loud about you and Master Diluc being the same kind of person…cut from the same cloth, a wisp in the same wind. Strange that I never really thought about it that much, but I guess it’s true.”

A gentle breeze moves around them, as if unsure of where to blow. Kaeya tries not to think about the fact that it’s the stillest he’s ever seen the grass and the lake of Mondstadt ever been.

“So many iterations of the same story, yet somehow there’s always that one line that keeps bringing me back to the past…” He continues. “I guess this is why they say never to interfere with pacts as strong as yours.”

“Bard. What happened?” Kaeya stops himself from rounding in front of him—as much as he liked playing mind games with criminals, Venti was still a friend. Occasionally, anyway, and that occasion wasn’t today. “I’m only asking you because Diluc has disappeared off to god knows nowhere. I want to confront of him on several things, because admittedly, you and I know it’s been quite a week for him and us.”

Venti stops moving, and the lyre that he’s been fiddling with disappears in a gold shimmering dust.

“I’ll say it’s a happy time to have him off my back in drinking, but it’s never the same without him nagging along.” Kaeya heatedly explains, and in the back of his mind, he wonders where this type of eloquence is coming from. Normally, he doesn’t even have the words to describe what he wants to say about Diluc. ”The man has a twisted line of thought that he doesn’t affect Mondstadt’s happiness and well-being, but that’s farther than the truth. Before getting here I’ve already talked with at least two people who’s mused about “Master Diluc’s health” unprompted, and the whole of Mond has been gossiping with one another in respect with Lisa. I’d rather not confront Jean for the moment, Venti, since everything seems a bit baseless for the meantime, so I’m going to ask again, nicely since we’re friends—are you to blame with happened to him?”

He watches as Venti turns towards him, and he swears upon himself that he sees a faint glow in the bard’s irises.

The air starts becoming heavy, and his lungs seem to have trouble breathing.                                                                                

The whole of Mondstadt sounds mute, to his ears—and in a moment, he blinks to see that the area they were in is different from Cider Lake, the castle-like structure of their city gone from their visage. Kaeya’s eye widens in surprise when he realizes that they’re both in the Dawn Winery—and Venti had probably teleported them both to it.

“Sir Kaeya, why must you think it was my fault for his state?” Venti—or something, someone else, Kaeya doesn’t really know now—calmly murmurs. “In the grand scheme of things, my actions are nigh insignificant to those that are actually controlling it. If there is someone to blame, look up there, not to me. I’m just a damn messenger, that’s all. It’s not like I wanted him to be burdened.”

Kaeya stumbles, realizing that Venti and whatever anemo he did have actually held him stable a moment ago. “Up there—so it really is something related to Celestia. It’s not some fever-dream that I got into.”

“Did he say anything about Celestia?” ‘Venti’ asks, raising his eyebrows. “I didn’t think he’d reveal it to you immediately.”

“…He relayed it in his usual way.”

“Hm. I guess you’d know.” ‘Venti’ turns his head towards the Dawn Winery Manor, a shadow passing through his face. “Master Diluc has found himself in a very, very dangerous situation, you know. I was planning to find a way to mitigate and assist him as he slowly confronts his situation, but I guess the solidarity of Mondstadt’s citizens shouldn’t really surprise me. Or, well, your loyalty to him, actually.”

“Mondstadt and Diluc, it’s not much of a difference sometimes, really.” Kaeya murmurs offhandedly. He sees ‘Venti’ send him a curious and amused smile, and Kaeya feels like he revealed too much about himself in that short statement.

“Interesting that you’re still trying to stay. I should warn you—if you try to even get into this mess, it’s going to be a mark in your soul.”

Mark in my soul? Kaeya thinks to himself, and almost scoffs out loud. Khaenri’ahns are already cursed. If there’s something that Diluc had gotten in with that earned the ire of Celestia themselves, then I might as well know.

Wasn’t that the truth, anyway?

No matter how the wedge between them grows wider, they still believe in keeping each other updated in everything that they do. Diluc would have his own station as the bartender, and Kaeya would have his knightly duties to aid him. Most of the time, updating one another occurs through a simple order of a drink, or maybe an occasional anonymous message or two. Yet, on Diluc’s side, his advantage would that be Kaeya’s whereabouts and activities are usually logged or tracked in the Ordo’s dealings.

On his side, Kaeya laments daily the difficulty of even locating Diluc once he’s off schedule.

Diluc was great in hiding himself in the dark that sometimes, it was difficult to find him in it. Despite being a bright individual, Diluc had the will to just… disappear from his own eyes in order to pursue something that might hurt him in the process—in the name of Mondstadt. Kaeya tolerated it in the past, in the name of their bond; he knew the pain that his father’s passing brought onto him, and the scrambled mindset that had affected the Ragnvindr greatly after his confession was the extent of what Kaeya ever wanted to see from him.

The stilted replies sent back to him in mail were some of the things that comforted him as Diluc went onto his sojourn. Returning to Mondstadt, it was obvious that something in Diluc had made him believe that not everything must be shared, even his burdens, to the people of Mond; even to him. Traveler was the only one who successfully broke through that barrier, even more than him and Jean could ever do. It seems like Venti was one of those people that Diluc had opened to, but all of this waiting—this misunderstanding and lack of knowledge—Kaeya didn’t want to experience it anymore.

He wants to… he doesn’t care if there will be a curse onto his soul, if they truly existed.

“…It’s fine.” He whispers honestly after everything, looking down onto the grass. He doesn’t have to look up to see that ‘Venti’ is boring his gaze upon him.

He stands up straight, despite feeling his words shake.

“To others, we might seem like we don’t along, and that’s true. He’s the most annoying and boring man I’ve ever grown up to know.” Kaeya turns his head towards the winery. “There’s nothing about him that is remotely fun. I’m all about having fun, whether it be through words and a bit of action. I confronted him already and you appeared before he could say anything. He didn’t want to share anything.”

“There’s something wrong happening with him that he had to seek out Albedo, Venti. He only seeks out Albedo when he knows there’s something beyond his capabilities. If he thinks that I’d sit idly by while something is happening to him, then that’s pretty rich—he never did with me, and won’t when I’m in danger. He went and fought a cryo abyss mage when I’m better in handling the situation. He’s sent anonymous funds to the Ordo addressed to me when a mission of ours went south.”

“So… please. Let me do something, if you know something, Venti.”

‘Venti’ gazes at him intently, in a stare that makes Kaeya uncomfortable. The loud beats of his blood pumping in his ears makes him feel deaf and overly aware at the same time, and his hands, for the first time in his life—feels sweaty. Clammy and unprepared, confused as to why he had just aired out everything from his heart—the emotions swirled in his body in a raging cyclone.

Yet he didn’t want to yield to the unbelievable pressure pouring onto him, a pressure as strong as a void trying to delete him from existence.

At that moment, he arrives to a terrifying realization of who was in front of him—as well as why Diluc was so forgiving of this bard, why Jean always looks so fond with him, why he knew so much about Mondstadt.

Kaeya prays that he wasn’t stupid.

An eternity passes—though it may have just been a minute, an hour, a day, or even a day, he doesn’t know—when he hears a sigh.

It sounds heavy and burdened. Ancient.

The constricting feeling releases its hold on the atmosphere, and Kaeya begins to breathe normally. Every gasp of air, he greedily took in the aroma of the grapes. After a moment, he kneels on the ground, in shock of everything that had just happened.

“…I’ve heard that you were once called his right-hand man, Kaeya Alberich—and to think that Diluc Ragnvindr would have someone as loyal as you by his side, even though you two don’t want to properly bridge it after everything.”

“We’ve suffered through worse.” The admission is confessed easily, honestly, vulnerably. Every part of him feels raw. “We’ve seen each other in the worst ways possible. It would be disappointing if this—whatever this is—is the one that makes me stop from having his trust. I’ve broken it before. He’s broken mine before. We’ve tried to make amends in the ways we know after everything. It won’t be the same but…”

I just want to make sure that he’s not going to die alone, he thinks, and the thought makes his eyes tear up in genuine fear. Out of all the arguments they’ve had, he remembers the moment when the pulse of the pyro vision was the only thing that indicated that Diluc had survived whatever dangerous endeavor he went through years before. He didn’t want to repeat the occurrence at all.

Now, to have him so close yet not at the same time felt more desolate than he’s ever thought it could be.

Let me help, please.

Please.

A comforting weight is put on top of his head, and the action is so foreign—so freeing—that he lets his tears fall.

“Thank you for telling me everything, Kaeya. Now that I know you better, I promise, he’ll be safe.” the comforting whisper soothes his hyperaware senses. “We’ll do what it takes, my child.”

Thank you, Kaeya squeezes his eye shut, succumbing to the encompassing exhaustion that takes its toll on his body.

Lord Barbatos.

Kaeya wakes up in the middle of a tavern disoriented. And hungry.

The constant chatter around him as well as the smell of alcohol make him blink rapidly; he first thinks it’s Angel’s Share, but the orientation is different—though not unfamiliar. The smell of certain creative scents brings his brain up to speed, and after a few moments of seeing what he thinks is a cat underneath some of the patrons’ legs, connects where he is.

Cat’s Tail, I’m in Cat’s Tail, he confirms as he spots the cat on the bartending table. But when did I…

The clock just chimes off to the right, and the small bird that chirps (and simultaneously earns the ire of a few kittens in the bar) tells him that it’s nearing five in the evening, almost sundown.

He knows he woke up early today, to find Diluc and trace wherever he went to.

He shifts to stand up, staring at the everyone that he was with; nothing was particularly out of place. There was no recollection of actually getting into the tavern, but he knew for himself that he had been around in the Dawn Winery moments before.The place where he had woken up is somewhere near the more secluded area of the tavern, but close enough to the bartending area that Margaret could spot him from it.

Which meant that he was purposefully in that area—he doesn’t really drink in the more secluded parts of Cat’s Tail. The cats were more likely to follow him, and he’s been told to charm the cats in the tavern. Added to the fact that he preferred to drink in Angel’s Share. Then… who brought me here…?

As if hearing his thoughts, Margaret pops out of the bartending area with a glass of water. “Sir Kaeya, you’re finally awake!” She hands him the glass, and Kaeya receives it slowly, lest his less than cognizant hand would decide to loosen its grip suddenly. “Our dear bard told me to keep you resting there for a while—his performance basically put everyone in such a restful state, it’s no wonder you fell asleep!”

“It must have been,” he says coolly, though pretty detached from the surrealism of everything. “Quite unfortunate that I didn't get to see him before he went off. Did he leave any kind of message?”

“Oh, yeah," Margaret nods. "Told me to tell you that you can meet him tomorrow, just not now—and before you ask, no, I don’t know where.”

The smile of apology she gives doesn’t reach him since the memories of what just happened earlier—whom he had just basically challenged—shakes him to his core.

If Mondstadt knew who he was, what his lineage was, and who he had just dared to mock and practically fight—well, it’s not enough being a laughingstock, he’d actually be booted out of the city itself just for being an idiot.

Then there was that word vomit—

Was that the power of a god?

He doesn’t know what to feel, but somehow his irritation towards Diluc surfaces amongst every emotion. The things I do to cover up every single thing that you do, I even take it to the extreme, Kaeya gripes to himself, flashing a quick smile towards Margaret and biding everyone at the tavern in goodbye. I swear to every Archon and deity known to Teyvat, Diluc, the things I do…

Why can’t you just tell me straightforwardly?

Why do you think that I—

“Kaeya Alberich.”

Every fiber in his being freezes up, jolting him out of his thoughts.

He narrows his eyes at the owner of the voice.

“…Miss Mona,” he returns in a measured tone. He knew the most basic information about the astronomer, and nothing more. They interacted seldomly, and usually the only time they spoke to one another was at Good Hunter—him with Veggie Bake, and her with salad. “Pleasure to meet you on this fine night, though I’m inclined that you may have thought that our dear ghost adventure stories should be reenacted now is a good idea. I would like to assure you; it might actually send someone into a heart attack.”

Mona blinks slowly at him, appraisingly.  She purses her lips in thought. “Hm. I apologize for the sudden appearance, then. Though, I would also be inclined to tell you something, though it’s free of charge, really.”

“It’s quite fine,” Kaeya shakes his head. He knows that the astrologist is a renowned student of the Akademiya and a proficient writer in Fontaine, but the knowledge of meeting a god just prior to his sudden teleportation and disorientation was still heavily weighing in his mind. If he was with Klee, he might have tolerated it—but his head hurts, and his heart feels like it had palpitated way too many times to count. “I don’t require of your services, I swear. I’m quite the capable man, see.”

“Perhaps, I agree. Yet I wouldn’t have sought you out if it wasn’t such a drastic change.” Mona counters with a serious gaze. "Please don't think that I'm out here to disrupt your lives. I am asking that you check for yourselves."

Well, put in that way, he doesn’t know what to say—so he just nods in the universal gesture of go on, it’s not as if I can do anything can I? action. If the gesture irks her, she doesn’t show it.

“I was scrying earlier and noticed your constellation, Sir Kaeya.” She purses her lips and looks towards the sky. “It’s not usually possible, but… your fate. I have read yours before, and it had previously had two large branching paths. It has changed earlier.” She looks down. “Your fate changed, which means that you have done one of the greatest decisions in your life—whatever that might be.”

…what?

“That’s very vague, Miss Mona,” he says in the coolest way he could temper his thoughts. “Everyone has heard of that little topic called butterfly effect. The smallest of decisions can influence the future. I’ve done a lot of actions today, and I know that nothing terribly drastic has happened to warrant a change in fate.”

Nothing Teyvat-shattering, anyway, he thinks to himself. He rechecks his actions, and while some of the exchanges may be hazy, his conviction was pretty much the same. I don’t think I actually did anything out of the ordinary besides confess to the literal archon.

“You might misunderstand, so I’ll say it completely.” Mona bows her head. “Kaeya Alberich, Pavo Ocellus is your corresponding constellation in the stars. My readings depicted that you were to make a major decision regarding your past and present, and whatever that might be, it will surely catch up on you. You hide behind a veneer of elegance but this event supposedly is so strong that it almost broke you.”

He remembers the lung-crushing pressure underneath the archon’s considering gaze.

He thinks of Khaenri’ah.

“But you had chosen a path that ultimately changed my readings of your constellations. It’s remarkable, really, but to those that stray from the stars, their lives become difficult because no amount of prayer or study can predict your future.”

He thinks of Mondstadt.

“Whatever that might be, you will have to stick to that path and reinforce that belief. I see numerous amounts of strife and conflict in your path, but there is a brightness that will not leave you astray.”

He thinks of Diluc Ragnvindr, and how the idiot was probably trying to find a way to mitigate whatever prompted him to learn about crystalfly creation, and suddenly he feels a bit more resolute in whatever he had said to the archon—and now, to the astronomer in front of him.

Kaeya swallows, and musters a smile.

“Thank you, Miss Mona. I’ll be sure to review all of my actions today in fine detail. I will stake my position as the captain of the cavalry with my promise that I will not let your warning be wasted.”

She regards him with a considering gaze.

“Good.” She turns away. “As an astronomer, I am told that saying that you must trust in the stars to light you the path that you need to take. Yet when they diverge from their course, I am reminded of those that the stars cannot dictate; however, there are those that I can warn. With the conviction that you now possess, if you hold onto it, will help you face even the strongest of adversaries in the upcoming future.”

“Good luck, Kaeya Alberich.”

The view on top of the Knights of Favonius Headquarters is a magnificent, calming, and quiet one. It’s the same reason why he chooses to hide his own belongings in the most convoluted way possible, since he knows that he’s one of the only people crazy—or secretive enough—to even consider going this high up in an official building.

Though, whenever he brings out his few prized possessions, he doesn’t look at Mondstadt, but rather he finds a corner where he can just sit and lament in his memories.

I see numerous amounts of strife and conflict in your path, but there is a brightness that will not leave you astray.

Kaeya reminds himself that his family line survived a curse before. There were many stories relayed to him and the few survivors—of how the world had abandoned them, how they are the last dredges of a civilization doomed by Celestia and the Archons of Teyvat.

Several things have happened throughout the years he has lived in Mondstadt—some good, some bad—but he knows that what he had done earlier was the best thing he could ever do, in the face of interrogation.

He knows whatever will come now, will be easier to handle.

It’s the same as what Barbatos had told of him beforehand. If the stars had changed its course to show his fate, then he knows—he knows—that he did the right decision. Whatever that may entail.

(Even if he almost dared to fight the archon of Mondstadt himself, apparently; Teyvat knows how much of that statement is ironic.)

He ignores how the box in his hands shakes, and how hard he’s trying to stop himself from crushing the seashells in his hand.

Who knows, Diluc.

Perhaps we’re fated to really be doomed together, at this rate.

Chapter Text

KAEYA

“Hey. You look more like a zombie than me, and that’s saying something.”

Kaeya looks up to see the concerned gaze of the Acting Grandmaster. She hands over a cup of coffee, which he accepts quietly. “Oh hey, good morning, Jean.”

Jean frowns. “Are you alright?”

No, Kaeya thinks. He smiles outwardly, though it’s not quite as bright as his other ones. “I’m alright. Didn’t have that much sleep last night, that’s all. Or, well, haven’t been having the grandest time with sleep and all. I’m not slacking off, mind you!” He salutes lazily. “Just a bit slow in the mornings. You know how it is.”

(There was no proof that he’s fine.)

He turns away immediately. If Jean had looked at him any longer, she would’ve known something was up—and well, Diluc did say he didn’t need to bother himself with whatever’s happening with him. Never mind that it’s been one-and-a-half whole weeks of radio silence, he’s gone on longer. There was no need to get…freaked out about everything, especially since Jean and Diluc have been repairing their friendship as well.

Waiting is nothing to a patient man like him.

(There was no Vision to tell him what’s happening.)

“Kaeya,” Jean calls behind him. She was there when Diluc had left Mondstadt all of a sudden. She was the pillar of strength he had depended on when the investigations were happening. She was there, and she had witnessed his desperation, his anger, his hurt, his shame, his fears, his worries.

She was there when Kaeya cried. He doesn’t turn around.

“Don’t work too late,” he hears. “The Ordo doesn’t need two workaholics, okay?”

He raises his hand and waves goodbye.

Kaeya stays in his room for the whole day.

(There was a missing presence, and days were empty.)

Radio silence never feels great for anyone... but especially to Kaeya.

While there was a time that it was something that he craved, usually protected in the shadows of a certain someone, it wasn’t something that he had nowadays. Silence was a luxury, not a necessity most of the time; his life is filled with the hustle and bustle of the city, the clanging and training sounds of the Ordo, the music of the Mondstadt bards, the babble of Klee and other adventurers, and the constant and dependable gossip of the civilian population.

Kaeya would never admit it: even though these sounds filled his everyday life, there are empty pockets of radio silence that he never really thought would ever be filled by another, because Diluc is the presence that does. Sure, the contrast between the broody vigilante-bartender and the bright box of chatter back then is a sight to behold, and honestly, he’d never be able to get over that—but he knows it’s the same. Whether it was Diluc back then, who’d drag him to the Ordo’s training grounds to fight him without the Vision (Visionless fighting, as Diluc called it), or Diluc of today, who’d replace his glass with a refill, a scowl and a healthy don’t get too drunk warning, he never really minded.

Kaeya’s just glad that he’s safe. He’s glad that he doesn’t have a Vision winking out its light, because he knows that Diluc was just somewhere near reach, not lands away from Mondstadt.

It kind of spirals away from him, then, when it goes without days of having Diluc’s presence again being on his radar.

“You’re not being paranoid. He’s been inactive for a while, and even in Dragonspine he’s just mostly not doing anything.”

Kaeya sighs, thumping his head on the table. “Thank you, Rosaria. It really does help.”

“Sure. Do you want to know why him and Albedo are collaborating?”

Sister Rosaria of the Church of Mondstadt, I am ever so glad that she can see through my bullshit, every day, Kaeya thinks as he swirls his cup.

It’s Dandelion Wine, courtesy of Charles, who is slowly becoming a bit too concerned about his drinking for the night. He’d say he was an adult, and almost everyone in the city loves to drink, except Mister Wine Tycoon himself and the talented Klatzein mixologist, unfortunately both the city’s famous bartenders. Every day he thinks about why Barbatos made it that way.

The thought of who Barbatos was sours his thoughts, and he places his cup down for a moment.

“To answer, it’s for some…power limiter. Or an energy transmitter of sorts. It was hard to listen to, especially since they stayed a lot in that makeshift cavern laboratory Albedo has; the winds had been drowning almost everything out, but that’s what I gathered.”

"The winds are rougher more than usual?"

"Yes. Even with my experience..." Rosaria shakes her head. "Told Katheryne not to send any idiots to the mountain. I had to fish out a few idiots who were doing their survival tests..."

Kaeya opts to ignore her grumbling, because she'll probably be on the roll if he even entertains the idea of listening to her anecdotes. "I'm glad you're fine, Sister Rosaria. You probably stayed quite the distance from them, for them not to detect your presence. Albedo is very adept at sensing someone being in his lair... ahem, laboratory. He might just reprimand me though, if he ever caught me. Diluc would most likely punt me out for even eavesdropping in his conversations..."

Rosaria side-eyes him, looking at him strangely. “You’d think Diluc would kick you out?”

“Punt, I said punt, Sister Rosaria,” he comments. She rolls her eyes at the response. “Of course he would! You know him. Always so secretive. He’s been acting so off, even by his standards, and this is me comparing his grand arrival in Mondstadt a few years ago! Honestly,” he tips his chair back, looking around conspiratorially, as if Diluc would somehow hear him. “—you think he’s planning on an expedition? Just like Grandmaster Varka?”

“You’re definitely drunk.”

The bland tone makes him laugh.

“He’d be capable!” Kaeya finds himself defending the idiot, though he doesn’t need to. “No, don’t laugh. He can. He’s… he’s certainly got the wits and the ability to fight the claymore… he’d probably fight him to get that claymore from Grandmaster Varka, anyway. More of his style.”

“The Wolf’s Gravestone,” he hears Rosaria remark. “The red… I guess. Is this what you really want to talk about, Captain?”

“No work titles, Sister Rosaria!”

“You just called me… never mind. I'm becoming miserable just by looking at you being miserable.”

Kaeya grumbles as he rubs his temples. “The ails of being a knight, you see. I mean, you are too. It’s annoying to do that… all that patrol at night, no? Usually, you guys have some… agreed-upon routes. Now it’s just you, the Knights that have had coffee, the night owls, and the occasional excitable adventurer arriving at god knows what hour. There’s no… him, lurking, lurking…”

“You are drunk, Kaeya. I don't know what you're talking about. Also, shut up, what happened to confidentiality?”

"It bargains when the alcohol flows, Sister." He sits back on his chair thoughtfully. “Why do you think he needs a power limiter? Is it all about the… the crystalflies?”

Those damned crystalflies that just popped out of Diluc’s hands. That was not normal. The last time he’s seen someone manifest a live being like that (or as alive as crystalflies were) was with Albedo, and Albedo was a chemist, and Diluc was not.

Unless he had a moment of alchemy during his trip to the unknown. Kaeya wouldn’t put it past him, the overachieving bastard.

Rosaria, normally cool-headed and calm, looks so frustrated that Kaeya tries to tamp down a laugh. He doesn’t succeed, as evidenced by the eye twitch from her. “Crystalflies? What in Barsibatos name are you talking about?”

“It’s Barbatos,” Then, a thought strikes him. Kaeya points at her at a speed that felt like it was going through water. “Wait. Would Dahlia know him?”

“Diluc, or Bartabos?”

“Barbatos, for Archon’s sake, Rosaria!” He raises his hands. “ Everyone knows Diluc!”

“And everyone knows Bartibatos!”

“Not you, apparently!”

“Quiet down!” They both hear from Charles’ section of the bar. “Otherwise, we’ll ask you to leave, both of you!”

He mouths sorry at the bartender, who shakes his head. 

Clawed fingers drag his face down by the ear. Rosaria speaks in a more subdued tone, but her volume was the same. “Does Deacon Dahlia know the Anemo Archon? As his Herald ? Probably. I don’t know how he hears the god, but he claims he does, and he’s consistent with his advice regarding the god, so,” he sees Rosaria wave her hand. “Why? You interested in getting a confessional? Ready to share the fact that you got to haggle Charles today and you didn’t bring him in the mix?”

Kaeya places a finger on his lips. “None of that. I’ll apologize to Charles later, and maybe Diluc once he gets back.” He shakes his head morosely. “Damn it. It’s not a maybe, right? Diluc will return. Nobody goes on sojourns twice, right? Twice in a decade, maybe. But in half? That’s not reasonable, right?”

“I’m not interested in this topic, Kaeya.”

“Humor me, Rosaria.”

He doesn’t know if it was the alcohol that brought him to this current state—miserable, and positively lonely, worried and anxious at the same time—but how ever he said those words, made Rosaria look at him seriously. The sharp and assessing gaze tracks him for a few moments; if he was more sober, he’d say a quip or two, but he was just tired.

The prospect of something happening to Diluc, again, and him being out of the loop, again, makes him miserable. He was one-hundred-percent miserable; Rosaria was right once more. What’s more was that—he really shouldn’t involve himself. Diluc made it clear—he should leave it alone.

Should he even leave it alone?

“Look… you two, I mean, I’ve seen you guys back then. More, nowadays,” Rosaria says lowly, and Kaeya listens attentively, pulling a cup of water to drink. She watches the movement for a second before closing her eyes. “I say. Go with your gut feeling. Did he not help you during the invasion? I don’t think he was supposed to be there, considering he’s technically a civilian.”

“Jean was convinced he’d always help when needed,” Kaeya admits. It was surprising, but also not surprising, feeling Diluc appear behind him, protecting him from a cryo lawachurl. “Blessings of the Anemo Archon, yadda yadda. I don’t think he’d leave Mondstadt, but there’s something he’s not telling me.”

“Eh, to me, it’s just him being secretive. You in the Ordo did that too, for months, mind you,” she points out. “Barbara and I only knew of the invasion days before. He’s not an idiot, so him learning about all those crimes and allegations throughout the months would naturally end up with suspicions… but I don’t think he’s as reckless as he was back then, leaving without a trace.”

“He’s not reckless, you say?” Kaeya grumbles. “I grew up as his shadow. I know he's involved in something dangerous now, that’s why he’s being so secretive. I just have to know why.”

“Why, though?”

The statement makes him blink in befuddlement. “What do you mean, why?”

“Why bother? He didn’t want you to be involved with it.” Rosaria points at him with raised eyebrows. “So, don’t get involved with it.”

“…No.”

“No? Don’t you… hm. Don’t you trust him that he’d be able to get through… whatever this is? Who knows, this is some new Ragnvindr line of business or something. Something to help with the wine process. Who knows.”

“It’s not something about the wine,” Kaeya rolls his eyes. “He’d sooner ask me for help by then, I’m more in that field. It’s… it’s about him. Something happened to him. Though.” He sighs. Backtracking through his thoughts and Rosaria’s question, he feels a heavy weight on his shoulders. “I know he’d be able to get through it. The thing is, he’s someone who likes working at night alone because of some duty. That speaks volumes about how he thinks about how he should be, right?”

Kaeya goes to the Church of Barbatos. It was the likeliest area where he would be able to meet Dahlia at the time of the day.

Ever since his meeting with Barbatos— Venti— the plaza feels weird to him. Just overlooking the whole city was the statue of Barbatos, and on top is the Church, and the actual god is just singing around with his lyre, proclaiming songs and ballads that range from holy songs to shenanigans of the gods. There was a moment from the week before that he connected that the bard he drank heavily with was the same god that his Khaen’riahn family despised, which was the internal conflict of the decade.

Then, just like Diluc with his disappearing act, Venti had not been present for a while. Apparently, he cited in his last few appearances that he was going through a creative burnout, which a lot of bards and artists heavily sympathized with.

Considering that Venti specifically told him that he’d be accompanying him with his endeavor to bring Diluc back to his senses, Kaeya’s kind of miffed that he’s alone as of the moment.

The bell tolls from the Church—a signifier that mass had ended, which means that prayers have commenced for the morning. Kaeya pushes himself off one the pillars of the plaza, before the onslaught of the mass attendees would block the steps. He leans to the side of the area, catching glimpses of the nuns—Rosaria, Barbara near each other, with the former nodding as she sees him. Dahlia appears next to Rosaria, holding a bunch of prayer books. He sees them talking to one another, and Rosaria points her chin towards the direction where Kaeya is standing.

Dahlia turns and waves.

“Hello!” He greets, smile unassuming and calm. “Good morning, my friend! Rosaria told me you wanted to talk to deacon-me?”

“Deacon-you?” Kaeya repeats, smirking. “I guess there’s a different from drinker-you?”

“Of course!” Dahlia laughs, beckoning to sit on one of the benches off the sides of the church. “Why, if you would ask me about my thoughts about Albert’s singing as deacon-me? I’d have to tell him that through the words of the Anemo Archon he has bestowed upon me, his symphonies being sung to the wind are blessings in upon itself, nourishing the food we eat, the air we breathe, and the grounds upon we walk in the city of Mond.”

“And if it’s drinker-you?”

Dahlia sits on the bench, shaking his head. “I’d tell him to be quiet. Even Barbara gets appalled by how off-tune he is, and don’t get me started on how I suspect he’s just doing that to get attention from her… I’ve had the thought to send him a surprise baptism, but a Knight might tattle on me,” he looks at Kaeya with a considerate look. “Oh, don’t tell me you’ll report me to Jean.”

“As long as you do not share about our talk today,” Kaeya smirks.

“ Okay!” Dahlia tilts his head back and huffs out a laugh. “That’s pretty smooth. Of course, Kaeya. Confessionals, testimonials, and consultations are always held in great confidentiality. No worries about me blabbing, I promise. I swear on Sister Rosaria’s name.”

He raises his eyebrows, making Dahlia chuckle. “I’m swearing on her name because she’s a… well, I’d say, her threat was quite convincing. The Anemo Archon’s Herald I am, but a true fighter I am not. I can only shield myself from Rosaria’s menacing lance. I'd be no match if she learns I broke an agreement of confidentiality with you.”

Kaeya’s slightly touched that Rosaria actually gave his concern with such gravitas, that she had threatened Dahlia, a mutual friend. Perks of having a scary nun as a friend. He nods. “Alright, how would this work? I don’t think I’ve actually talked to deacon-you.”

The statement makes Dahlia snort, though as testament to how he’s a bit more professional, he covers his face with his hand as he does it. “Well, you may start by what you are comfortable with, of course. You’ve approached me, which is the first step, and I commend you for it. I’ll also remind you that the church is not beholden to share any of what you do to the Ordo Favonius, nor does it have the jurisdiction to do so, as has been observed in years after the investigations.”

He nods again, looking at the ground.

Dahlia holds his hands together in prayer, bowing. His voice, though in a whisper, is steady and calm. 

“You, Kaeya Alberich, are here, and this is a safe space. On this ground, none may pass judgment of your sins and of your tribulations. I, as the Deacon of the Holy Church of the Favonius, bestowed upon by the Seneschal Seamus Pegg and Cardinal Calvin; in the name of the sacred winds of Barbatos, who has guided every heart and soul, shall help to unburden your worries, for he is all-kind, thus saith the Anemo Archon.”

A few seconds pass. Kaeya is aware of everything that happens in those few seconds—the rustle of the trees, the lessening chatter of the churchgoers, the sounds of the Church tidying up after the mass. He thinks about many things, about how to approach this matter in the best way possible, without sounding like he was going to ask for something big.

How does he approach this? Even after all these years of handling Diluc’s more-than-confusing tendencies, there had been some pattern. Isolates himself but reaches out to competent people, still works at the vineyard and Angel’s Share despite not drinking alcohol… 

Updates and protects Kaeya begrudgingly despite not-liking-him…

How does he ask, ‘ any inspiring news from Lord Barbatos on how to get Diluc from wherever he holed himself in?’  

After a few moments, in the end, he just sighs. Sometimes, the best thing to do is admit defeat. “… I know that the Anemo Archon is Venti, and I’m here because of him, so this is kind of awkward.”

Another few moments pass before Kaeya looks up and sees that Dahlia’s placid expression did not change. “Yes? And?”

“So, you know?” Kaeya straightens his back. “That Venti is Barbatos?”

Diluc, Traveler-- did a lot of people know that Mondstadt’s god is just… around? 

“It’d be a difficult thing to be his Herald and just pretend that I could not spot my god in a tavern,” Dahlia reckons with a smile, probably knowing his line of thought. He looks off to the side. “Though, I’d like to remind you, Kaeya, that Venti and Barbatos are two separate distinctions, but are not decidedly different. Just as I am as a Deacon and just regular-Dahlia.” 

“I can hear the slight doubt in your voice; I understand that some… notions may be challenged after, but while he is not as holy as stories might make him be, he is still as loving and benevolent as he is in them. That, I believe.”

“No, it’s not—“, he couldn’t exactly say he didn’t doubt, and that he had some… problems regarding his knowledge of the Archons. He pauses, before shaking his head. “No. I know. I had… an encounter with him. With Barbatos, the Anemo Archon, and he really is different from Venti. It’s why I had to ask to meet you—he’s been gone, and I need to contact him, because of…”

A breeze passes by. Dahlia stares at him serenely, before saying, “Oh, you mean with Diluc?”

For the nth time talking to Dahlia, he finds himself surprised. The leaves were rustling as he spoke. Is that how? “Did Ven—Barbatos say that? Just now?”

Dahlia hums. No confirmation, but Kaeya lets it slide. A topic for another day. “And what exactly would you need from Lord Barbatos, especially in regards to Diluc, Kaeya?”

The wording makes him pause. It doesn’t seem like he’s privy to the details about Diluc, which, at least that seems plausible. 

“Venti’s location, for one.” He frankly says. “Look, okay. Dahlia—I don’t know how much you know about Diluc and his situation, but he’s been behaving more erratically than usually, and that’s saying something, because he’s a boring man. During my encounter with Barbatos, he not-so-directly told me that he’d be assisting in tackling the issue about Diluc.”

“No other avenues to investigate, Captain?” Dahlia hums in wonder.

“No.” That’s what frustrates him. Kaeya did not have any other leads, short of asking for Vile’s intel again, whom had only expressed defeat when not being able to figure out what has been happening with Diluc, nor being able to locate Venti. His intel route did not yield to any other paths to go from. As it stands, Kaeya was at a loss on how to tackle the situation.

“Nothing short of barging into the Winery and demanding the workers there to give me some advice, but poor Adelinde and Elzer don’t need another spat between us-- the last time we were there, we had some camaraderie and good will. I’d rather that not happen, if you know what I mean.”

Dahlia regards him with a stare, and he gestures for Kaeya to bring up his hand. The deacon’s eyes were closed, eyebrows furrowed; movement under his eyelids, as if he’s trying really hard to listen to the breeze.

Kaeya follows his instruction, and blinks when Dahlia cradles his hand gently. “Oh, Child of Mondstadt, for whom the stars and skies have been fraught from your gaze, let the will that that has become the susurrus of the depths of your heart be the guiding wind upon which the Anemo Archon has entrusted upon us all; that from which you must find the strength to approach the emergence of thy conflict, on the bond that has withstood the test of erosion. Naught shall be your fear, for those whom you’ve practiced certitude, shall thy blessings be reaped.”

Then he sighs. “In the whispers of the wind shall his words be your guardian, for in the shadows, all will be brought into light, through the Anemo Archon.”

Kaeya bows his head, mulling the advice over. There is a lot to unpack there—but he tentatively says, “…Are you saying that I should just go for it because Venti is doing something in relation to it, but is somewhere else?”

Something about the twinkle in Dahlia’s eyes makes him snicker. “In not so many words, now.”

The realization of what had just occurred—about what has been happening, about how ridiculous everything was, and this—this confessional, makes him laugh. 

Laugh something ugly, and Kaeya covers his eyes in frustration, and he feels himself shaking.

A missing god, and a not-so-missing, but still-missing, idiot.

“Couldn’t give me something to work with, huh,” Kaeya whispers to the wind. “Damn you.”

“He’ll probably hear that.” Dahlia murmurs in assent.

Both of them sit in the quiet. Kaeya churns the advice, over-and-over in his brain, cursing Venti, then cursing Diluc next, then cursing himself, because this is Diluc’s trip away from Mondstadt again. 

And he’s alone again. There’s a thought that he’d invite Dahlia for a drink, but considering Rosaria’s disapproving stare, as well as his body actually rejecting the thought, he just stews in his thoughts instead.

After an hour, Dahlia takes his leave. He places his hand on his shoulder, murmurs a quick prayer, and returns to the Cathedral.

Kaeya stays in his spot till the moon rises.

“Klee? Sucrose—why are you here?”

“Oh, um, hi, Captain Kaeya,“ Sucrose feebly greets. She’s politely not looking at him—which is fine. Kaeya knows he must look like a war just hit him. Thankfully, he knows he doesn’t stink, but the thought lurks in his mind. “Miss Klee requested me to bring me to you… and well, seeing as Captain Albedo has not yet returned yet, I have been tasked to watch over her…”

“Oh, yes, yes.” Kaeya absent-mindedly says, and he reaches out to ruffle Klee’s hair. He smiles a little when he hears a squawk from the Spark Knight. “Thank you, Sucrose. Unfortunately I look like death warmed over, so I really do appreciate you bringing Miss Klee here.”

“O-Oh, it wasn’t my intention—”, Sucrose looks panicked, and Kaeya would’ve thought it was funny, if he had the energy to give.

“Big Brother Kaeya is just joking!” Klee pipes up immediately, derailing over Sucrose’s apology. “Come on, Kaeya! I have to give you something!”

Sucrose chooses the moment to flee. Kaeya blinks when he looks at Klee, who was currently climbing his bed.

“Careful,” he calls out, closing the door. “What’s the event? I don’t think I sent out invitations today, no?”

“Invitations…? No, no,” Klee shakes her head. “I’m here for a surprise!”

“A surprise…?”

“Yes,” Klee nods vigorously. She places her backpack down on the bed, and begins rummaging through it. “You’ve been very sad. I made you this!” She presents a ball of—

Well, Kaeya blinks when he realizes what he is, as he receives the ball. “This is… Master Diluc as an owl?”

Klee nods even more excitedly. “Yes! Mister Grumpy Owl will be here to make you less sad!”

“Oh,” Kaeya feels his heart drop.

For Klee to notice…

Nothing has changed , in his patrols and jobs; he made sure of that. He still submits reports and documents. He still conducts training and patrols. He talks with his fellow officers, helps with the delegates, entertains folks, goes to the bar and gets kicked out of the bar, plays cards, cooks barbeque skewers, and the like. There was nothing different in his routine.

“You don’t need to deny it,” Klee frowns vehemently, walking towards him—or bouncing, since she was on the bed. “I… don’t think the others have noticed, Big Brother Kaeya. I just know because I sometimes feel like that way too. Sad.”

He stares at the owl in his hands. It looks ridiculous, to see Diluc’s face plastered on the owl. Though, it’s quite impressive. “Klee…”

“When I miss Mom, I get, super, super sad, and really upset,” Klee whispers, and she holds up a Dodoco, “—I have this giant Dodoco. It’s different from normal Dodoco, because Dodoco is Dodoco, and this one is the Dodoco Mom gave me. So now, this is Mom Dodoco. I hug her at night when I miss her. Do you miss Mister Grumpy Face?”

The nickname makes him chortle. “I… he really is grumpy, no? You captured his face a lot on this.” He sits down on the bed. “How do you know I’m sad because of Master Diluc?”

Because I have to check how I’m carrying myself. How mortifying to be found out by Klee, of all people.

Klee carefully sits next to him, and leans, hugging him on the side. “You guys meet a lot in Angel’s Share. Albedo doesn’t let me go there but ever since Master Diluc made more drinks, I’ve been able to drink the fruit drinks they have there. It’s fun. I always see you go to him, and you make a lot of jokes that he doesn’t laugh at. But! He always checks if you’re still alive after you fall asleep from being too drunk.” She pauses. Kaeya just takes it in.

“I miss it when Mom checks on me when I’m asleep. She always seems to know, even when I’ve gotten really good at pretending now,” she gives a small smile. “Then she has to leave, and… I’m okay, because she is going to a lot of places that I get to see through pictures, but I miss her.” She sniffles. “I also miss you, Big Brother Kaeya. You must really miss Master Diluc.”

Kaeya bites his lip, and places the owl on the side, and hugs Klee. “I’m sorry, Klee. I’m sorry. I miss you too.” He sighs. “…and yes. Remember he left back then?”

“Yes,” Klee nods, picking up the owl. “He gave me grape juice back then. He was super nice.”

“He still is, but he has… a lot of things to do,” Kaeya murmurs. “A lot that is quite secretive.”

“Like Mom.”

“Yes.”

“Do you think he’ll be coming back soon?” Klee wonders quietly. “He needs to apologize to you for making you worry.”

Kaeya laughs. Do I think he’ll be returning?

Is this just me being afraid that he’ll leave Mondstadt again? Or is this because I had been hoping we’d continue getting better… being able to trust one another? Is this because I was hoping he’d tell me what was going on, and that I could’ve helped?

That I would help, unlike last time, when I couldn’t?

He remembers Venti’s conviction, and Diluc’s stalwart stubbornness of literally everything.

“Yeah,” Kaeya musters up, a bit more convincingly. “Yeah, Klee. He’ll come back. Then you can share with him Mister Grumpy Owl, and tell him that it’s his fault that I felt very sad.”

“Okay!” Klee agrees resolutely. “Then after, we invite him to fish bomb. I just learned he’s a pyro Vision holder like me!”

“Hm…We’ll…see.”

The scent of coffee wafts into his room first before he sees Jean.

“Oh hey, chief,” he greets, saluting. “Need something?”

“Just… checking in,” Jean slowly responds. “Here you go.”

Kaeya takes the coffee with gratitude. It’s still not the brew he likes, since he likes a little more alcohol in his coffee, and his coffees are usually on the sweeter side—but he spots the packets of sugar on the saucer, so it’s well on his end. In contrast, he spots that Jean’s is black. “Timely. Thanks. These reports about more frequent heat bursts are crazy, huh. They apparently are on a weird track, but mostly near Dragonspine’s area, no?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard,” Jean echoes.

A few moments go by, the scritch-scratch of the pen the only sound filling the room. Kaeya looks up inquiringly when she doesn’t speak. Her face contorts into something indecipherable, then settling onto a resolute and kind look.

“I haven’t heard about Diluc in a while,” Jean finally prompts.

“Oh, great, Mister Grumpy,” Kaeya clicks his pen. “Yes?”

Jean covers her mouth with a giggle. “I’ve heard that Klee has taken to calling Master Diluc that.”

“Yes. Very creative of her.” He tilts his head. “As for Diluc? Oh you know. Same old. I don’t know, you don’t know, who knows? Probably Albedo, whom he’s working with right now, but who knows what in Teyvat he’s told the man.”

“Albedo?” Jean raises her eyebrows. “Hasn’t he been holed up in his laboratory for the past three days? Came back from Dragonspine—and mind you, with his hair a bit shorter. I think they got singed.”

That stops him short. “What do you mean he’s been back?”

“He’s been back,” Jean repeats. “For three days. Apparently, he’s been with Diluc for a short project. Do… would you know what it would’ve been?”

Kaeya tears his gaze away from the report he’d been writing to stare at Jean, whom he finally properly looked at, ever since their last proper conversation—which was almost a month ago.

She looks pale. She looks exhausted.

“No,” his mouth feels dry, despite just drinking his coffee. “No, I—I don’t really know, Jean.”

Silence envelopes them for a few seconds, before Jean places her coffee cup down on his table, then leans forward, covering her face.

“Figures,” Jean murmurs, so silent that it strained Kaeya’s ears to hear. “It figures that no one really knows about what’s happening to him. Surely he would’ve learned to say at least something, no?”

Alarm bells blare in Kaeya’s head. “Jean—“

“Make no mistake, Kaeya, I hold him in great regard,” Jean cuts him off. “I consider him my friend. But he—I’ve been worrying about what’s happening to him, especially since I couldn’t call on Venti, whom also is not found anywhere. All we’ve got to signify that he’s alive is that Albedo is a firsthand account, and even then, he doesn’t even—well, you know Albedo.”

“He wouldn’t ask if it’s not needed,” Kaeya finishes. 

Another sigh. She looks terribly exhausted. “Lisa… Lisa seems to know something, but she’s tight-lipped, telling me to trust in whatever Master Diluc is doing right now. Gods, Lisa knows something about this whole thing. Do you know something?”

“No,” Kaeya honestly replies, the short tidbit about Lisa making it feel like his heart turned into ice. “Just… just whatever Albedo probably told you.”

“All I know is that, there’s something—something different that will be happening.” Jean sighs, almost aggressively. “It’s just, here we are again, in the dark, and—”

He hears it first, before he sees it; a sob breaks out of her words, and Kaeya is already moving away from his desk to get her to the sofa.

“Albedo said he’s worried about the Frost Nail on top of Dragonspine, Kaeya,” she whispers, and Kaeya swallows at the news. “There’s something about it that has changed. That’s why he’s been hard at work. He can’t explain it, apparently. But we’d have to talk to Diluc, because he thinks it’s something connected to him—it’s something that he’d only be able to answer. Diluc had been—he seems to know something, he was so urgent regarding the device Albedo was making. Gods, why can’t he just—”

“I know.” Kaeya murmurs. He holds her hands tightly. “I know, Jean.”

He tries to muster the calm that he doesn’t feel, but by the way his hands shake, he knows that Jean could feel his upset too.

The scene was familiar—countless nights of fighting for the reputation of the Ragnvindrs, investigating against Inspector Eroch and his supporters, and reforming the knights by their own hands. Of nights where Kaeya had become more familiar with the alcohol, and where Jean had dove into piles of paperwork, in the deepest hours of the night. Weeks of Grandmaster Varka’s sad gazes, with the occasional finger wag to go home, we’ll have time.

It was ironic, because it was Diluc—then and now—who’d always berate them for doing so. The cause of their conviction, but also the result of those events. Silly of him to think that he'd be able to hide from Jean, his closest friend amongst everyone else. It was idiotic of him as well to think that it was only him who's been hyperaware of Diluc's absence.

How terribly unkind you are to those who care for you, Master Diluc, Kaeya thinks internally.

Especially for those who wait by your side.

"You sure you're up for this?"

"I am...?" Mika looks at him weirdly, then blinks rapidly, apologies plastered on his face. "I mean, of course, Captain Kaeya. Dragonspine is, well, it's not quite my forte but it is a nice place to practice cartography."

"Sure. Not what I meant, though." Kaeya nods absently. "Anyway, give him this," he gives a letter, "--then leave. Scram. Don't even begin to talk to him."

"You're making it sound that Master Diluc is a frightening lion to encounter!" Mika looks at him, then sweats as Kaeya levels him a stare. "Okay. Got it. No talking, no-nothing. Just a delivery."

"Preferable if you would tell me what he's doing, or if he has any... news regarding the nail."

"The nail?" Mika echoes. When Kaeya doesn't elaborate, he shrugs. "Okay. Do I need to read the letter out loud to him, or... oh hey, this isn't signed."

"No," Kaeya shudders. He can't even imagine how Diluc would look like. "I'm not like Grandmaster Varka. Also, that's fine. He'll know."

Mika rolls the letter and packs it in his bag. He stops at Kaeya's door.

"I... may I speak, Captain?"

Kaeya nods.

"I... have a feeling that this would be better given to him, personally," Mika murmurs. "Sorry. I'm just confused. Why not...?"

"Why not me?" Kaeya shrugs, continuing his writing. "Who knows."

Because he wouldn't like to involve me with whatever he's doing, so I have to circumvent how to assist him, Kaeya thinks as he hears Mika's footsteps grow quieter and quieter.  It was the way he deals with the Dark Knight business, his fights with the Abyss Order, and his destroyed business relations related to Fatui. Besides. 

He stares at a parchment with a pressed dandelion on the bottom. 

I've got a lead to follow.