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All that is evil should burn.
“I’ve caught the witch!” The other kids cheered as they quickly circled around Thoma. “Burn, burn, burn!” they chanted, while Thoma laughed about getting caught so soon. Diluc had been the one to catch him, from the beginning the poor boy didn’t stand a chance.
“The witch has been hunted. We have won.” Diluc declared solemnly, though the gap left by his missing front teeth made him lose some of his gravitas.
“Kaeya, are you sure you still don’t want to play?” The boy shook his head in lieu of a response. He still wasn’t used to having so many people around him.
Jean was selected to be the next witch. With a ten second head start, she zoomed across the expanse of the winery. Jean was fast, faster than Diluc. The ten seconds over, the other kids chased after her with determination.
‘Chase the witch’ was the kids’ favourite game, although Kaeya had never partaken in their enthusiasm. Witches were powerful, witches were masters of their craft, conjuring boundless power from the palm of their hand. He didn’t understand why the witch should be hunted. Diluc had said it didn’t matter, that a word would have more than one meaning, and that it was just a game anyway.
Kaeya looked up as Master Crepus came to sit beside him on the grass. An easy smile graced his lips when he saw the children happily playing together. “You’re not going with them, Kaeya? It would be fun to make new friends.”
“I don’t understand their game. Why would they chase a witch?” Back home Kaeya used to play a similar game with his siblings, ‘catch the chicken’. He liked that version better, it was less violent and made more sense to him.
Master Crepus raised his eyebrow in musing. “I’ve always thought it was strange as well. Sometimes I wonder if it’s wise to teach the kids about burning people at the stake.” He held a little girl in his arms. Kaeya recognised her as Jean’s little sister but he didn’t recall her name. She was asleep and Master Crepus made sure to speak low enough so as to not wake her up.
“Few know about it, most have forgotten. But this game is tied to a story. The Girl of the Red River.”
There was a girl with a long braid as dark as a crow. She pitied her own suffering and wished to end it. Her life had been sad and she had been lonely. Her parents had abandoned her saying she was cursed by the stars. One day, she jumped off a cliff and into a river so that the water would fill her lungs. However, one cannot go against their fate and Celestia had other plans for her. The girl awoke in the water, broken-boned and alone, screaming to the sky to strike her down for good.
The river, dyed red with her blood, heard her pleas and it replied, “you aren’t dead, but you aren’t truly human.”
The church at the time was close-minded and easily frightened. They set off to catch the girl and condemn her for her sorcery. They gathered around her house as she was asleep.
A high priest proposed to dissect her body, in order to find from where her magic came. Belly-opened but still alive, the girl opened her eyes. Her scream frightened the priests, they had believed her long dead. They ran to their axes and wooden stakes, ready to finish the job, but somehow the witch managed to escape. Different versions of this part exist. Some say that as the girl awoke from death, her blood gained sentience and came out of her deep wounds to attack the priest like a whip. She ran and evaded the arrows and rocks shot at her from afar.
The girl was gone but the village was still frightened. For three days and three nights, they guarded outside their home, in hope to catch the witch of the red river, without avail. For good, the girl disappeared, and they never heard of her again.
“Was the girl good, or was she bad? She must have done something for the villagers to be so afraid.” Kaeya fiddled with the hem of his eyepatch almost nervously. Master Crepus reached for his hand with one of his own.
“Kaeya, in this world, it’s always a question of point of view. I cannot tell you if the witch deserved to be hunted. But mindless fear, that is what we should try to ‘chase’ away. I think the girl was more than she seemed to be.”
Master Crepus wasn’t a stupid man. He had many secrets he kept close to his chest, to remain protected, to stay hidden. And in the look in his eyes, Kaeya was aware. He knew. He knew and he didn’t care. He knew and he still called him his son, held him close in his arms as a father would. As if Kaeya was someone who deserved to be loved.
Master Crepus had accepted him and for a small beautiful moment he had imagined himself to be good. Not a spy, not a threat. A son, a brother. In his foolish ecstasy, he might have been careless. He had expected Diluc to accept him as well, to disregard his wickedness the way his father had. Until his claymore had been unsheathed, until he had summoned the blaze from his vision, Kaeya had hoped. And when the blade cut through his flesh, when the flames scalded his limbs, Kaeya had to force himself to stop hoping.
The searing red of fire. The bright red of the blood, the smell of charred skin. Chase the witch, chase the witch. After all, it had always been Diluc’s favourite game, and he had always been so good at it.
“You. Have never been my brother.”
The witch has been hunted, you have won.
Kaeya passed out against the burned grass. Not feeling the heat emanating from it, nor the freezing touch of his archon-given vision.
//
“That’s enough, Sir Kaeya. I will not be serving you any more drinks tonight.” Diluc frowned when he asked for yet another refill of his favourite cocktail, the Death After Noon.
Kaeya didn’t feel quite drunk yet but didn’t fight. It was one of those days. The ones when Diluc’s scowl hurt a little too much, when his words cut a little too deep. Just sensing his presence behind the counter made him nauseous. He shouldn’t be here. His nerves were on edge, trying to warn him. Leave, leave now. He ignored the trembling of his hand as he placed a bag of mora on the counter. Sister Rosaria looked up at him with confusion. He directed at her a barely convincing smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, probably.”
The air was cold but not harsh. Outside, a bard was perched on a windowsill, all clad in green, while his fingers strained his lyre’s strings. A sad, delicate tune resonated in the night, while the wind roamed gently the streets of the city.
Kaeya made his way in the opposite direction from his apartment, he didn’t feel like being alone with his thoughts yet. Unfortunately there weren't many places to go out at Mondstadt at night, save for Angel Share. Cat Tail, the one other tavern, closed early since their bartender apparently had a curfew.
He passed Anthony gathering coins one by one from the bottom of the fountain, trouser rolled over his knees, and climbed the stairs two steps at a time.
Light seeped through two windows of the Knights of Favonius’ headquarters. The knights standing guard at the entrance greeted him with a nod and he made his way further into the building.
That very same light was emanating from under the Chief Alchemist’s door. Kaeya’s hand paused on the gilt bronze doorknob.
Some time ago in Dragonspine, Kaeya had visited. He himself wasn’t sure why. But Albedo had welcomed him and let him warm up by the fire in his camp. He had also said he didn’t hate Kaeya’s company and considered him a friend, which the Cavalry Captain couldn’t fathom.
And so Kaeya opened the door of the lab, and tried to remind himself that he was not hated.
“Sir Kaeya,” Albedo didn’t need to turn around to recognise it was him. “It’s late, shouldn’t you be asleep in bed by now.” The clock on the wall indicated past midnight, yet Albedo’s desk was riddled with reports, flasks and various glassware.
Kaeya closed the door and made a beeline for the alchemist couch, which he could swear the man didn’t even use himself. If there was something Kaeya had never caught his fellow captain doing, it was resting. “Same goes for you Albedo. It’s unwise to be out and alone past sunset.”
Albedo turned his head enough for Kaeya to catch his small playful smile. “But I’m not alone, am I? Since you are here.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t have to look that hard in order to find better company.”
Albedo frowned and put down the flask in his hand. Abandoning his ongoing experiment, he made his way to Kaeya, who was disgracefully lying on his back. “Scooch over.”
Kaeya made a move to get up and sit down properly. He hadn’t completely lifted his upper body that Albedo slipped underneath him and settled Kaeya’s head on his thighs.
“My. How bold of you, Sir Albedo.”
“Do you think of yourself as bad?” Albedo never cared for Kaeya’s teasing. Sometimes, it was like he saw through the Cavalry Captain like one could see through glass. It was strange, to know someone could see beyond your cover of lies and let them anyway.
“I don’t think of myself as good.”
Albedo had taken off his gloves at some point. The skin of his hand was satiny and perfect. Kaeya wondered how they would feel against his calloused palms.
“Is there such a thing as the ‘hands of a scientist’? People always talk about how pianists have long elegant fingers, but I think scientists have nothing to envy them with their thin delicate hands. It looks like your hands were made to pick a heart apart. Perhaps I should check with Sucrose and Timaeus if it’s a trait shared by every alchemist or exclusive to you.”
Albedo’s soft chuckle sounded like water dripping into a fountain. He trailed his hands on Kaeya’s face, nearing the end of his eyepatch. He tugged at it, once, twice, then moved on. He traced the slump of Kaeya’s nose, Kaeya’s cheek, as if he was mapping his traits with a paintbrush. The cavalry captain inhaled deeply through his nose. He wasn’t used to kind touches anymore. He closed his eye, knowing he deserved nothing of Albedo’s kindness but that he would selfishly bask in it anyway, for as long as he could. Maybe the alchemist only saw him as a strange experiment, as a passing subject of study. He only hoped he would stay interesting to him a little longer, so that his blue eyes would be focused on him for a little more.
“You’re drunk, Kaeya.”
“Hm.” Albedo’s hands were cold against his skin. He brushed the hair off his forehead and detangled his blue locks with his fingers. Slowly, softly.
“It would be a good idea to go home.”
Kaeya tried to appreciate the moment at its fullest. Remember the good times while they still existed, while he was still allowed to have them. Because soon, very soon, he might not have the fortune to enjoy them any longer. It was only a matter of time. Because one day, Kaeya would step out of line. One day, Diluc would once again be proved right. One day, the witch would have to be hunted for good. And the people wouldn’t be wrong when they’d cheer as it burned.
“You know, my brother has always been a great person. I always knew he would be a hero.”
The girl of the red river, Kaeya pitied her, truly. But maybe, just maybe, evilness wasn’t what you did but how you were seen. It was hard to be more than what people said of you, so once called a traitor, it was presumptuous to pretend to be something else. So maybe, just maybe, the witch had deserved to be hunted and Kaeya had deserved the fire that had fondled his skin.