Archive of Our Own ^beta

The greatest part of being a parent was getting to know your children. Even after eight years, Crepus was still learning things about his son every day. Diluc was a headstrong child, confident and brash. There was an excitement to everything he did, as if nothing in the world could hurt him. Crepus spent most of his energy just trying to keep up with the boy. 

Diluc had a soft side to him too. He was immensely empathic, going out of his way to help those around him. If someone was crying, Diluc would be there, trying to cheer them up. In that way he was good at making friends. He was loyal and kind, everything a parent would hope their child would be.

But Crepus still worried about the boy, wondering what would happen when Diluc learned the harsh reality that was life. That fate was not kind and that people could be horrible. That the world would hurt you over and over again and all you would be able to do is get back up and brace for the next hit. He only hoped he could prepare his son for that day.

But just as he was coming to understand the young redheaded boy, a new child came into his life. Kaeya was different from Diluc. He was completely different.

The small boy was quiet. He rarely talked unless spoken to. And he followed all instructions to the letter without complaint. He was a fast learner, with an intense drive that kept him focused. 

There were other things that Crepus noticed. He was afraid of the dark. He had an accent; he was not speaking his native language. He couldn’t bear being alone. But one of the most particular quirks was the way he stared at mirrors.

Multiple times Crepus had found Kaeya in the bathroom, as if his reflection had entranced him. After a few of these strange interactions, Crepus realized it was the boy’s right eye that he was so fixated on.

Kaeya had partial heterochromia, the iris of his right eye split in half with gold. Combined with the boy’s peculiar star shaped pupils it had a striking appearance. Crepus understood the pressures of being different, especially as a child. He hadn’t noticed anyone directly say anything, but he could imagine the insecurity the already shy boy might feel about it. He hoped that it was something Kaeya would eventually build confidence in over time.

He didn’t think anything more about the eye.

Crepus was in office, working through a stack of papers concerning the winery. A cold snap had struck, wiping out major sections of the vineyard. He was planning a few strategies to compensate for the loss and recover the damaged plants.

A warbled cry echoed through the house, followed by a heavy thump.

Crepus was on his feet, a bolt of adrenaline shooting through his body as worry filled his mind. He rushed out of the office, trying to determine where the sound had come from. There was another sob, and he was racing down the stairs. It was coming from the bathroom.

A knot of horror twisted in his stomach as he discovered the scene. A discarded butter knife had been thrown across the tiles, blood staining the tip. On the floor, Kaeya was curled up on himself, clutching his right eye, almost clawing at it.

Crepus was at the boy’s side in an instant. He pulled the boy’s hands away and his stomach did a somersault. It was no strange to gruesome injuries, but to see something like this happen to one of his boys...

“Dad?” Diluc’s voice called out from the hallway, trying to see what was happening.

Crepus shifted, moving his body to block his vision of Kaeya. He didn’t need to see this. “Go get Adeline!” He told him.

As Diluc’s footsteps pattered away, Crepus grabbed a towel from the sink. He pressed it gently against the Kaeya’s injured eye.

“Hold this right here, okay?” He said to the boy. “Don’t move it. Can you do that?”

The sobbing boy nodded, and Crepus heaved him up, carrying him in his arms. As he stepped into the hall, Adeline rushed toward him, concern knitted in her brow. Diluc was right behind her, nervously twisting the hem of his shirt.

“Get the wagon ready. I’m going to take him to the Church. Maybe they’ll be able to...” his voice wavered, glancing toward Diluc. Lowering his voice, he finished, “save his eye.”

The housemaid nodded, “Of course, Master Crepus.”

He moved to follow her but a small hand grabbed his leg. Diluc looked up at him, worry filling his big eyes. “Is Kaeya going to be okay?”

A pang of guilt stabbed his chest as he saw the fear in his son’s eyes. “He’ll be just fine. Don’t worry.” His words sounded fake even to his own ears, the forced smile shaking.

They hurried outside, Adeline bringing over one of the horses and hitching it up. Setting Kaeya in the wagon, Crepus carefully checked to make sure Kaeya hadn’t done anything to make the injury worse. Confirming the towel was still in place, he told the boy, “Hold on a little longer, we’re going to go to Mondstadt. One of the sisters will look at your eye.”

Kaeya nodded. The tears had stopped, but the miserable expression remained. His hand flinched suddenly, reaching underneath the towel.

Crepus firmly pushed his hand away from his face. “You need to leave it alone, okay? Can you do that?”

Kaeya nodded, again more tears filling the rim of his left eye. “I’m sorry...”

“No, there’s nothing to be sorry about,” Crepus told him in a soft voice, hushing his apology. “Let’s just focus on getting to Mondstadt. We’ll go from there.”

The boy took a deep breath and nodded, his lower lip quivering still.

Taking the reins of the wagon, Crepus sent the horse into a gallop. Worry churned inside him. He tried not to think about why this had happened, thoughts of blame cursing himself for not noticing the signs earlier. That wasn't important right now.

Glancing back, he kept checking on the boy. Kaeya was always staring back at him with the same miserable expression, but, true to word, he didn’t attempt to touch his eye again.

He pulled the wagon through the gate of Monstadt city, steering the horse through the streets, up to the Church of Favonius. Luckily there weren’t too many people crowding the city at this time of night. 

Passing the towering statue of the Anemo Archon, he pulled the horse to stop. He picked up Kaeya, carrying the boy into the great cathedral. One of the sisters came over with a smile.

 “Ragnvindr, what can we do for you?”

Crepus nodded to the boy in his arms. “He hurt his eye. It looked pretty bad but if there’s anything you can do...”

The sister nodded in understanding, “We’ll do our best.” Looking at Kaeya, she touched the towel. “Can I take a look at your eye? So I can see what we’re dealing with?”

Kaeya nodded and the sister slowly pulled away the fabric. She frowned, confused at what she saw. “How did he hurt his eye?”

“I don’t know exactly,” Crepus muttered, “but I believe it might have been...” his words trailed off as he saw Kaeya’s eye.

It was completely intact. There were no signs of damage. However the iris of the eye had turned completely gold, not a spec of the pale blue color remained in his right eye. A thin seam of abyssal black energy ran through the sclera where it had previously been damaged.

“I don’t understand,” Crepus stared in confusion. “I thought he was going to lose his eye...”

The sister gave a patient smile, “Kids tend to exaggerate their injuries. It looks fine.” She held up her hand to Kaeya, “Shut your left eye. How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Two.”

“See? I’m sure he just poked his eye or something. Everything looks normal.” she paused, her eyes lingering on the golden eye. “He has really unique eyes.”

Crepus was still stunned. The adrenaline that had been pumping through his body nonstop leaving him empty as he was left without any clear action.

“Kaeya, are you alright?” Crepus asked, setting the boy down and looking him in the eyes. He found himself staring at the gold eye, still puzzled over its existence.

The boy nodded.

“I guess he’s fine...” Crepus mumbled. “Sorry for taking up your time.”

The sister shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. You must be a caring father to be so concerned.”

Crepus slowly nodded. His body felt strangely numb. “Well then, we’ll get going. Thank you for everything.”

“Of course. May Barbatos guide you.”

Taking Kaeya back into the wagon, he couldn’t help but stare at the child, the confusion of what had just happened still fogging his brain. He checked on him one more time, before going to the front of the cart.

“Are you really alright?”

Kaeya nodded.

With a sigh, Crepus grabbed the reins directing the horse out of Mondstadt and back home.

When the large manor appeared in the distance, Crepus pulled on the reins, bringing the wagon to a halt. Sliding off the front, he walked around to look at Kaeya. The boy pulled back, an expression of fear flashing across his face.

“Are you going to leave me here?” the boy whimpered. “I’m sorry, I’ll do better. I can-”

“I'm not going to leave you.” Crepus almost laughed at how ridiculous the thought was. But he realized for Kaeya, it wasn’t. They’d found the boy wandering alone and lost by the winery. Someone had abandoned him before. He softened, “I just wanted to talk to you, without Diluc and Adeline and all the house staff around. If there’s something you want to tell me, it will stay just between us.”

The boy stared at him for a long moment. For a second it seemed like he was going to say something, but he ultimately remained silent.

Taking in the silence, Crepus bit his lip, trying to figure out how to ask his question. “Do you hate your eye?”

Kaeya paused, leaning back and forth as he thought about it. “I don’t like how it feels,” he finally mumbled.

How it felt? Crepus was confused by the answer. Usually people didn’t feel their eyes. Did he have some unique condition? He paused as his gaze landed on the gold eye. “How does it feel?”

“Like a bug.”

“A bug?”

“Itchy and tickles.” Kaeya glanced away, not meeting Crepus’s eyes as he said, “I was trying to get it out.”

That was the answer to Crepus’s unspoken question. It didn’t comfort him, but he tried to understand what the boy was feeling. “Does it feel better now?”

The boy shook his head. “It’s bigger now.”

So he was referring to the gold in his eyes. Looking at the abyssal black line splitting his sclera, he could guess it wasn’t anything natural. “I don’t think that helped. Can we agree not to do that again?”

Fear sparked in the boy, his lip quivering. “I don’t want to be replaced.”

“I’m not going to replace you,” Crepus assured him, but it didn’t calm the boy. It took him a moment to realize that his words had been concerning his eye. He didn’t know how to comfort him. Finally he sighed, “I was really worried about you. You really know how to give someone a heart attack.”

Kaeya's eyes widened, and he shook his head. “No, I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry.”

Crepus shook his head, “You don’t need to apologize for everything. Especially things that aren’t your fault.”

“Oh.”

He looked up at the boy with a warm smile. “What do you say, should we head home? Do you think Adeline has some dinner ready?”

“Home? You mean, your house?”

Crepus tilted his head, giving a laugh. “It’s your home too.”

The next day, when Crepus returned from his work at the guild, he had a present for Kaeya. It was an eyepatch. If the boy didn’t like looking at his gold eye, then he shouldn’t have to. 

Kaeya took it with a cautious gratitude. When Diluc saw the accessory he mentioned it made him look like a pirate. It turned into a game, the two of them running around together, pretending to be pirates as they chased each other with their toy swords.

While the boys played, Crepus retired to his office, a new problem laid out before him that he was determined to solve. Kaeya was cursed. And he would find a cure.

_ _ _

As the boy grew older, he grew his hair out, often keeping a lock of hair covering the right side of his face, so that even when he didn’t wear the eyepatch, he could hide the gold eye. But even as he aged, no longer playing pirates with Diluc, there were still days when you could find him sulking in his bedroom, eyepatch covering his right eye.

It was at those times Diluc would curl up next to his brother and ask, “Is it an eyepatch kind of day?”

Crepus wasn’t sure if Diluc understood what was happening to Kaeya’s eye, but it was clear he knew it was something that Kaeya struggled with. 

It gave him some comfort that Kaeya had someone else who could be there for him. He’d noticed the boy struggled to confide in others. Even as he learned to come out of his quiet shell, he still was relying on Diluc to actually make new friends.

But it gave Crepus some security that even when he was away for business that the boy had someone to turn to if anything happened.

Crepus rubbed the sleep out his eyes as the Ragnvindr Manor came into sight. He'd been driving all day, his wagon filled with goods and trinkets from his trip. Even before he had pulled the horse to a stop, Diluc was flying out the door to meet him.

He tackled his father in a bear hug, “Dad, you’re back!”

Crepus grunted under his son’s weight, realizing that the boy was not the little kid he remembered him as, and Crepus himself was past his prime of strength. Ruffling the boy’s hair, he smiled. “Hey Diluc, how were tryouts?”

Diluc’s grin stretched from ear to ear. “I made it! I’m officially a Knight of Favonius.”

A rush of pride swelled up his chest. “That's amazing! When do you start?”

“Next week.”

“Remember Diluc, it’s not just going to be fun and adventure. You’re just a measly rookie.” Kaeya had slowly followed his brother out to the wagon, giving him a light punch in the arm. “You better not slack off, or when I finally make it into the knights, I’ll be higher rank than your lazy bum.”

Diluc swatted him away. “I know, I know, but you better get in fast or I’ll be captain by the time you’re a knight.”

Crepus looked toward his other son, “Ah, so did you not...?”

“They don’t know what they’re missing,” Kaeya dismissively. “Once they get a taste of Diluc’s idiocy, they’ll realize what they need are my brains.”

“Hey!” Diluc glared, “Who are calling an idiot?”

“If I remember correctly, you almost burnt down Wolvendom when you got your vision.”

“That was an accident!”

Crepus gave a small laugh as the two boys bickered back and forth. He smiled, “Tonight we’ll celebrate our first little knight in the family. I’ll ask Adeline to cook something good tonight.”

“I bet I can eat more than you,” Diluc muttered toward Kaeya.

Kaeya grinned, “Oh really? I’d like to see you try.”

Turning to the back of the wagon, Crepus pulled out a glass bottle, “And I got some lavender melon juice, freshly imported from Inazuma. I thought it would be fun to try.”

Diluc took the bottle, staring at it with an awed reverence. Kaeya didn’t share the excitement, looking at it with skepticism. “Melons? Like a pumpkin?”

“No, they grow on trees...” Crepus paused, looking for the other thing he had returned. “I also got something for you , Kaeya.”

“Oh,” the boy fidgeted, glancing toward Diluc.

Crepus looked toward his other son, “Diluc, why don’t you get that juice to Adeline? Can you tell her we’re having steak tonight?”

Diluc looked between his father and Kaeya, an understanding flashing through his eyes. “Oh, of course. I can take some of your stuff in too!”

“Oh, you don’t have to-”

But before he could protest, the redhead grabbed his bags, carrying them inside the manor. Crepus sighed, still smiling. It was crazy how fast kids grew up.

“So.. what did you get?” Kaeya asked, hesitantly looking toward Crepus.

“First,” Crepus reached his hand out, gently pushing the boy's hair out of his eye. The iris was still as gold as every, but the black curse had only grown, becoming more noticeable. “How did the last stuff work? Any improvement?”

Kaeya shook his head, “I didn’t feel anything different.”

Disappointment bloomed in Crepus and he sighed. He didn’t know what he had expected. They’d tried hundreds of different methods, from medication to exorcism. But nothing had even shown a glimmer of slowing down the curse.

Yet Crepus wouldn’t give up. He’d spend his entire fortune, waste his whole life looking for a cure, if it offered Kaeya even an ounce of relief. Pulling out a small medicine bottle, he told Kaeya, “I got this from a specialist physician in Liyue. I don’t know, but I have a good feeling about this one.”

Kaeya tilted his head, “You say that about every one.”

“Well, I have a really good feeling this time.”

A small smile pulled at the boy’s mouth, but it fell a frown, a distant brooding pulling his attention from the medicine.

Crepus looked at the boy, gently putting a hand on his shoulder, “Is everything alright?”

The boy inhaled, sharply forcing a smile, “Of course!” But even as he gave a bright grin, his lower lip quivered, shaking ever so slightly.

“Kaeya... if there’s anything bothering you, you know you can talk to me, okay?”

Kaeya nodded.

“Is it about Diluc? I know you seemed pretty excited for Diluc making it into the Knights, but I can’t imagine how frustrating it feels that you weren’t able to.”

The frown on Kaeya’s face dropped even further. He looked up, his brows creased with tight worry. “Am I... not good enough?”

 “Of course you are.” Crepus told him softly. “You’re perfect just the way you are.”

“But Diluc’s so good at everything he tries... he even has a vision.”

The words coming out of the boy’s mouth felt so familiar. Thoughts that had plagued his mind for years, sending him down a path of darkness. It was one of his greatest regrets. “Don’t worry about visions,” he told Kaeya, “I heard they can be as much of a burden as a gift. And you... I think you have enough burdens to bear and you're plenty gifted.”

The boy looked away, his eyes shifting. The hard thing about kids is that you tell them they were enough, that they were loved, that they didn’t have to worry, but they had to believe it themselves.

“Y’know I tried to become a knight when I was teen too...”

Kaeya looked up at him, surprised, “You did?”

Crepus gave a sheepish laugh, “I never made it.”

“W-what? But you're so amazing...” Kaeya argued. “You’re super smart.”

“Yeah, but not all of us are meant to be fighters,” he squeezed the boy’s shoulder. “Some one has to be in the back to support all those brainless knights. Diluc can be reckless and doesn’t always think through the consequences of his actions, but it gives me comfort that he has someone like you with him.”

The boy’s eyes brightened, an excited hope filling them, as he nodded. “I’ll always be there for Diluc!”

_ _ _

“I’m going to be away on a business trip for a few weeks.”

Diluc looked up from the plate of pancake he was shoveling into his mouth, “Ohm?” 

The boy- well Crepus couldn’t really call him a boy anymore, in less than a month he’d officially be a man.

Diluc swallowed before asking again, “Oh, do you need us to take care of anything while you’re away?”

“No, I’ve made sure Elzer will take care of any winery business.” Crepus looked through the closet by the door, pulling out a thick heavy coat. “I should be back before your birthday.”

Light footsteps pattered down the stairs. Even still blinking the sleep out of his eyes, his hair a mess that he was hurriedly trying to comb out, Kaeya was already fully dressed in his knight's armor. As he snatched one of the pancakes off Diluc’s plate, he noticed Crepus’s coat. “Going somewhere?”

Crepus nodded, “Actually can I speak with you for a moment?”

Kaeya nodded, popping a strawberry from the berry and whip cream topped dish into his mouth, before stepping into one of the side rooms. “What do you need?” He asked Crepus.

“How is your eye doing?”

“Oh,” Kaeya pushed his hair back, revealing the gold eye. Almost the entire sclera had turned black, only blotches of white remaining, “Same as every. Do you have something new you want to try?”

Crepus nodded, “I managed to get in contact with an old colleague of mine. If anyone can figure out a cure for this curse, it’s him.”

“Oh, so that’s why you wanted a blood sample the other day?”

Crepus nodded. Something churned in his heart, a nervous anxiety. How did any parent ever let their children go? How did you know if they were ready for a world without your help? What if they needed you, and you weren’t there? “If... if anything happens... take care of Diluc for me, will you?”

Kaeya’s brows furrowed, recognizing the somber tone. “W-what are you talking about?” He asked with almost a laugh. “This trip isn’t going to be dangerous, is it?”

Forcing a smile, Crepus shook his head. “Of course not. I just can’t help but worry about you boys sometimes.”

Kaeya tilted his head, “We’re not little boys anymore.”

Crepus chuckled, “You’re right. You’re almost adults. I forget sometimes.”

Stepping back into the foyer, he found himself staring at the young man lacing up the brassy Favonius armor. How had he grown up so fast? It seemed almost yesterday that he had been a brash young kid, but now he’d matured into a fine young man, respected member of the Knights of Favonius, and even earned a vision from the gods.

He ruffled his hand through the Diluc hair. “I’m so proud of you,” he said softly. 

Diluc looked up with a frown, as if sensing something was off. But seeing his father’s smile, he returned it. “I do my best.”

“Hey, Captain Diluc, we better get a move on or we’re going to be late,” Kaeya yelled at him from the door.

Diluc grunted, shoving his shoes on. “Sorry, I got to go. See you when you get back! I’ll make sure to write letters.”

Crepus watched the two boys race out the door. They had such a bright future ahead of them. All he wanted to do was make it a little brighter... even if that meant he had to return to the darkness of his past.

Crepus had forgotten how much he hated the cold. In Mondstadt snow was rare, usually melting before it even touched the ground. It was always nothing more than a few delightful flurries.

But here the icy wind tore at him, biting at any exposed skin. Snow was whipped up in the storm, caking his clothing in a layer of frost. Trudging through the thick banks of snow, it was all he could to wrap his coat tighter around his body and shield his face as best he could. Why anyone would choose to live here, he couldn’t fathom.

Through the blinding wind of snow and ice, he could ever so faintly see a small building in the distance. It was barely more than a shack, nothing more than a shed for supplies but from the smoke rising up from the chimney, he knew there was at least someone there.

After leaving Fontaine, he’d traveled on foot, carrying only the bare essentials he needed to make it through the wilderness. For the last three days he hadn’t seen a single other soul, guided only by the strange compass he’d been given. It seemed to be pointing directly at the old shack.

Climbing up the icy steps to the deck, Crepus couldn’t help but be skeptical. There were no windows and not even a sound coming from the interior. It didn’t look like anyone had left this building in a long time.

Reaching up to the door, he slowly knocked. There was no response. Crepus lifted his hand to knock again, but just before his hand hit the door, it cracked open.

“Who is it?” A harsh raspy voice whispered from inside.

“It’s Crepus. You said you could help me with something.”

The door opened wider, but before he could move, a cane swiped across the ground, knocking his feet out from under him. He twisted to get up, but the barrel of a cannon was shoved into his chest. It hummed and whirled, a bright orange glow ignited across the sides as element energy charged up.

An wiry old man, stature withered with age, glared down at him, “I don’t know you.”

“Dmitry, it’s me, Crepus! We worked on the False Eye project together.” He held up the compass in his hand, “You gave to me this to find you!”

The old man squinted, looking at him for a moment. Finally he heaved up the cannon, the whine of the machine slowly slowing as the pyro energy faded. “You’re old.” 

“Speak for yourself,” Crepus muttered, slowly sitting up. “So you remember me?”

“I think so, you were the plucky redhead who kept going on about a world where everyone had visions, right?”

Crepus cringed at the memory. He had been so naïve to think that they had been doing anything that could help people. “Yeah... that was me.”

Dmitry grunted, dropping the heavy weapon behind the door. “Get in here. I don't want the cold to get in.”

Pushing himself to his feet, Crepus followed the old man. It was warm inside the small building, a roaring fire crackling in the hearth. Miscellaneous machines, and half built contraption covered every surface. In the corner a box of dried food and vegetables were being kept.

“You’ve been here for a while?” Crepus asked, careful stepping through the mess.

“For a couple of months. I have hideouts all over Snezhnaya that I moved between. Have to keep those Fatui off my tail.” the old man muttered, pushing away a pile of items to try to clear some space.

Crepus noticed a small portrait sitting on a counter. It was the only bit of decoration in the entire room. Behind the cracked glass of the frame, there was an image of a young girl with a toothy smile. “You.. had a daughter right? How is she doing?”

A dark shroud seemed to fall over the room. The old man looked away, “She’s dead now.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re lucky you got away when you did. Everything got worse after you left.” There was a bitterness in the man’s voice. His eyes lingered on the picture for another moment, before giving a long sigh, “That’s all old history. You came here for a reason. You disappeared for almost thirty years; I imagine it’s no small favor you're looking for.”

Crepus nodded, “One of my son’s-”

The old man grunted, “You got a kid? Don’t tell me a weirdo like you found a girl...”

A flush rose in Crepus, “I did actually. I have two sons.”

“You’d be a terrible father,” Dmitry muttered, “You get too caught up in your own daydreams. You better be feeding them more than sweets everyday. Kids need nutrients and lots of exercise to grow well.”

“They’re not plants...”

“And once they’re teens... Oh boy, you better keep an eye on them. They’re going to be sneaking out, getting drunk, meeting up with girls...”

“I didn’t come here for parental advice,” Crepus said, trying to stop the rant.

“Er- right.” Dmitry cleared his throat as he recomposed himself. “What did you need?”

“One of my son’s has a curse. It’s some sort of power that seems to be consuming his eye. I’ve spent years trying to find something to help but nothing has worked so far.” Crepus explained.

“A curse? From a fallen god or something?”

Crepus shrugged, “It does act similar, but it’s nothing like anything I’ve worked with before. It heals itself whenever it or the surrounding tissue is damaged. I believe any type of surgical removal would be futile.” He pulled a vial of dark liquid from his coat, “I brought a sample of the cursed tissue with me. Hopefully this should help you.”

“Help me?” The old man snatched it out of his hand, “that’s more than enough.” Shaking around the liquid in the vial, he frowned, “I’ll need to run some tests. Hopefully pin down what we’re working with. Then we can figure out what to do from there in terms of a cure.”

Something hopeful spark in Crepus at the idea of some sort of progress. “How long will that take?”

“From what you described... hmm, maybe a couple weeks? I’ll need to move to a hideout with better equipment for that kind of analysis. I’ll send you a letter when I find something.”

“Oh.” There was a disappointment that he wouldn’t be able to come home with something more substantial, but he wasn’t going to let him get that down. “Thank you so much, Dmitry. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

The old man grunted, “I know how far a parent would go to save their child...”

Watching the old man shuffling around in his secret hut, all alone in the harsh wilderness of Snezhnaya, he paused. “How about you deliver the news yourself? I live in Mondstadt.”

The man froze, as if stunned by the offer, before quickly shaking his head. “I couldn’t, I have too many projects I’m working on here.”

Crepus raised an eyebrow, looking at the cobbled together machines, built from literal scraps, littering the room, “This? I know you. You can do so much more than this. You don’t deserve to live out your last years in these frozen wastelands.”

Dmitry still seemed hesitant, “I don’t know...”

“You don’t have to worry about burdening me or my family. I own a winery and we’re well off. It’s out of the reach of the Fatui so you’ll be safe from them.”

“Mondstadt, huh,” The old man sighed. “You really see me in a vineyard, trying to chase after a couple of young’uns?” He tried to scoff, but there was something wistful in his voice.

“Well, they’re not that young anymore,” Crepus laughed, “My older son is turning eighteen in almost a week.”

“Anyone fifty years younger than me in a young’un. That includes you.” Dmitry told him.

Looking at him with a smile, Crepus told him, “Well, how about this? Visit and bring a bottle of Firewater. We can drink and talk for as long as you like, and when you get tired of the sun, you can come back here.”

The old man grunted, shaking his head with a sigh. But a smile pulled at his mouth, “I’ll think about it.”

“You’d better. When we figure out a cure, I want my son to meet that man who saved his life.”

Returning to Mondstadt, a warmth returned to Crepus. The tension that had filled every muscle of his body slowly started to fade. There was safety in the rolling hills and mild sun. Pushing open the door to the Ragnvindr Manor, he announced loudly, “I'm back!”

Diluc was the first to notice him, the redhead waving as he looked up from a report he was working on. “Welcome back! I cooked some dinner earlier, there should still be some left, if you want any.”

“That would be wonderful, thank you.” Crepus said as he hung up his coat, and set down his bags. “I got some Alpine Strawberry juice for you. But I was thinking we should save it till your birthday.”

“Alpine Strawberries... Those are from Snezhnaya,” Diluc paused, “I thought you didn’t like going to Snezhnaya.”

Crepus shrugged, “It’s far too cold, but business is business.”

Diluc slowly nodded, “I’ll go get that food ready for you.” He turned away toward the kitchen.

Footstep reached the top of the stair, Kaeya looking out from the balcony floor. “Diluc, are you talking to someone-” He froze as he saw Crepus. His expression wavering for a moment before he raced down the stairs to greet him. As he arms wrapped around him, burying him in a hug, Crepus could feel he was shaking.

“Is everything okay?” He asked softly.

“You’re okay,” Kaeya mumbled. “I can’t believe for a moment I wanted-” his voice tightened, cutting off the words. Taking a deep breath, he whispered desperately, “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“Hey, it’s okay. I'm back. And I think we are really going to figure out something for that curse,” Crepus told him. “My colleague knows how to figure out what the source of it is.”

Kaeya’s body froze, suddenly going completely still. “The source?”

“Haven’t you ever wondered why you have this curse?”

Kaeya shifted, refusing to meet his eyes, “No, not really.”

Crepus ruffled his hair, “It’s okay, I know this might be scary, but I’ll be here to help you through it.” He smiled, looking down at his boy. “Now what did you want to tell me?”

Kaeya's lip quivered and he looked down, “Nothing... it’s not important.”

Footsteps re-entered the room, as Diluc came in with a plate of steaming steak. Seeing Crepus and Kaeya, he tilted his head. “What’s gotten into you, Kaeya? Crying on Father like you're a little kid again?”

Kaeya instantly pulled himself away, giving a short laugh. “I guess I got a little lonely. It feels like forever since he was here.”

“It was just two weeks,” Diluc shook his head, handing the food to his father. “You’re going to be an adult too in not too long.”

“With your attitude, you act like you're planning on kicking him out when you turn eighteen.” Kaeya muttered.

Taking a bite of the food Diluc had brought, Crepus was absorbed in the delicious flavor of sweet sauce and savory spices. “You made this, Diluc? It’s amazing!”

The words ignited a flush of embarrassed pride in the redhead. “Thank you, but it’s only thanks to what you’ve taught me.”

“Nonsense, this is better than anything I could cook,” Crepus insisted. “I’ll have to do something really special to top this for your birthday.”

The aroma of broiled meats, warm pie, and freshly squeezed juice filled the kitchen. Crepus’s hands were a deep purple from the fruit, but as stepped back to look at the entire array that had been assembled, he gave a satisfied smile. With less than an hour left till he was supposed to pick up Diluc, the feast was ready. Perfect timing, he’d say.

“Adeline,” Crepus looked over to the housemaid next to him, “Could you get the wagon ready while I wash up. I’m thinking I’ll surprise Diluc and come a little early.”

She nodded, “Of course.”

Stepping over to the basin of water on the counter, Crepus washed his hands, doing the best to wipe off the berry juice.

He had been planning to prepare a grand breakfast as well, but when he had woken up that morning, he had been pleasantly surprised Kaeya was already working on it. Diluc had been just as surprised to see his brother, half covered in flour, offering him the slightly misshapen pancakes. Kaeya had just laughed and said it was payback.

Looking out the window, it was a beautiful day, warm sunlight washing over the rolling green hills of Mondstadt. Some darker storm clouds lingered on the horizon, but they looked like they would blow over without a fuss. Nothing that would ruin their evening.

“Master Crepus, there is someone here to see you.”

Crepus paused, surprised to hear Adeline had returned so quickly. “I’m busy today, can you tell them to set a meeting with me later?” He called through the rooms.

“He is quite insistent.”

“It’s my son’s eighteenth birthday,” Crepus grumbled, “I not doing any business today-”

“Refusing to see me? After I came to all the trouble to see you?” A slithering voice lilted up in mock outrage, echoed throughout the Ragnvindr manor.

Crepus’s blood froze, his breath stopping cold in his chest. His hands were shaking as the towel he’d been holding fell from his limp grip. He had convinced himself he’d never hear that voice again.

A man stepped into the kitchen. He wore a pristine white coat, finely tailored to fit. The only blemish was a dark stain splattering up the sleeve. It was pronounced against the perfection of the rest of his outfit. 

“Crepus Ragnvindr ,” he cooed, “Here I thought you’d be hiding away with some vigilant group or hidden away in the tomes of the Akademia, but you’ve been here the whole time, living out a cushy life as a wine merchant, making money off drunken fools. You had the knowledge to control the power of the gods themselves and you decided to use that to do what? Make fruit rot? ” The derision was venom in his voice.

Taking a deep breath, Crepus pushed away the terror clawing at his throat, quieting his hammering heart, and kept his expression level. “Get out of my house, Il Dottore.”

“That’s no way to treat an old friend .” He leaned up to Crepus, a wide grin revealing a row of sharp, jagged pointed teeth. Judging by the mask that covered the top half of his face, he was the segment that Crepus most familiar with. The one he had personally worked with. 

“Congrats on your marriage and my condolences about the missus. Dying in childbirth. How tragic.” There was only a false facade of emotion in his voice as he went on. “But you do have a son. You must be proud of him, to have gained a vision so young... don’t tell me you were jealous?” He smirked before turning to the table filled with an assortment of food. “And then he became a Knight of Favonius, the Cavalry Captain at age fourteen. What a wonder. You always wanted to be a Knight of Favonius, right? Oh wait, you have two sons, is that correct? Didn’t you pick him up off the side of the road or something? Is that your pity project?”

Crepus’s pulse was almost deafening in his ears, a panic he couldn’t act on filling his body. Dottore acted like he hadn’t known where Crepus had been living, yet still managed to list off every major life event. “How do you know all this?” He whispered.

The harbinger looked at him, a wide grin spread across his face. “Oh come on, don’t tell me that just because the Fatui reach in Mondstadt is limited, you thought it was safe .”

Fighting the fear choking him, Crepus asked, “What do you want, Il Dottore?”

Dottore looked over a plate, carefully plucking a grape from the steam. Holding it over his head, he dropped it into his mouth. The fruit popped between his teeth and he sighed. “I want what you stole,” Each word was dangerously sharp, like a dagger being held to his throat.

Swallowing, Crepus couldn’t keep eye contact with the eyes he couldn’t see. “I destroyed it years ago. I want nothing to do with Fatui and would be happy to rid my memories of your existence.”

Dottore scoffed, making it obvious he was rolling his eyes, “No. I don’t believe you.”

Crepus slowly blinked. He focused on his breathing, keeping level and calm. Each breath was calming, muting the emotions screaming inside of him. “It’s gone,” He repeated.

The grin slowly fell from the harbinger face. “ No, that’s not like you. You’re an idiotic delusionalist, too stuffed full with pride to ever destroy something you created.” He paused, “I’ll give you one last chance to return it. Or else I have to take my own compensation.”

“I said, it’s gone. I destroyed it.”

Dottore gave a long sigh. Looking back over the food, his hand paused, lingering over a roasted chicken, “I heard today was your son’s birthday. What a special day.” Fingers digging into the flesh of the meat, he tore away the thigh of the roast, its bones and tendons snapping apart. Lifting it to his mouth,  his shark-like teeth tore into the meat. He paused, looking toward Crepus as the buttery grease dripped down his hand, “Should I wish him a long life?”

Crepus’s eyes were glued to the odd stain on the Harbinger coat. What had caused it? Was it a food stain? He did seem to be rather nonchalant about the mess he was making. But that color, the way it sprayed...

Of course he had killed people, he was a harbinger. But Crepus knew how Dottore specifically liked to kill people. Slowly. One piece at a time.

Images he thought he had long since buried away violently flashed through Crepus’s mind. Except Diluc’s face replaced the memories. He could see him tortured and dissected, the screams only giving out when his body gave up, trying to die. 

Bile rose up in Crepus' mouth, and he staggered, gripping the counter to keep himself from falling. As he blinked rapidly, trying to purge the images from his mind, Dottore watched him, a slow smile growing.

Squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to control his breathing, Crepus asked, “If I give it back, will you leave my family alone?” His voice was quiet and desperate. He knew he had no power in this conversation.

Dottore stared at him for a moment, and then shrugged. “Fine, what do I care about your pathetic little life here?” But his sharp toothed grin widened, “Does this mean you're going to cooperate now?”

Crepus nodded, “I hid it away from here.”

“How far?”

“About ten miles.”

Dottore tilted his head, “In Mondstadt City?”

Crepus didn’t answer but his silence spoke volumes.

With a long sigh, he waved his hand. “Fine, go get it. I trust you know what will happen if you’re lying.”

With a relieved nod, Crepus stepped past him, heading for the door.

“Ah, one last thing,” Dottore called back, “you really should have just told me the first time I asked.”

Paranoia ran rampant through Crepus’s mind, latching hold of every shadow, every flicker in the corner of his sight. Walking through the city of Mondstadt, the city were had grown up and then as an adult had learned to love, he no longer felt safe.

He knew Dottore’s threats weren’t empty. The harbinger did not lie. He had no reason to. Though neither did he have any reason to keep any promises.

Pushing open the door to the Angels Share, the tavern was filled with familiar patrons and knights that had gotten off their shift. People that Crepus had usually smiled and given a second thought, suddenly were suspicious. Who was working with the Fatui? Was there a spy?

His heart dropped as he saw a knight with bright red hair. The one person he hoped he wouldn’t run into while wrapping things up with the Fatui Harbinger.

His son turned toward him, surprised. “Father, I didn’t expect you here so early.”

“What are you doing here? Don’t you- don’t you still have a half hour of your shift?” Crepus mumbled. His eyes glanced around the tavern, searching every inch. Was this a trap? Had someone intended him to meet up with Diluc? Was it a threat?

“Eroch let me leave early so I came out to help at the tavern.” Diluc paused, watching his father, “Are you okay? You don’t... look so well.”

As his son reached out to him, shame flooded Crepus. What was he doing? Looking over his shoulder, jumping at every shadow, it was pathetic... He didn’t want Diluc to see him like this.

He looked up with a smile, giving a small laugh, “Sorry, I had been hoping to get here early and surprise you. But I guess you beat me to it.”

“Oh, sorry. I’ll grab my stuff and then we can head home. Kaeya doesn’t get off for a couple more hours, but that should be in time for dinner...”

Despite the pleasant face he put on, Crepus still couldn’t get his mind to focus. He interrupted, “How about you staying here until Kaeya’s done with work? Some business came up and I don’t quite have things ready yet.” He gave an apologetic smile.

Diluc shook his head, “That’s not a problem, I can help. It’s always better to have more hands, right?”

Crepus bit his lip. He was running out of excuses and he didn’t want to arouse Diluc of the danger he was in. But the last thing he wanted was to bring his son straight to Dottore.

But in the end would it matter at all? If Dottore wanted to kill any of them, there was nothing he truly could do to stop the harbinger. As usual, he was helpless to watch the world turn around him.

“Fine, but I need to grab something.”

Moving behind the bar, he pulled out a bottom drawer. Though there was no apparent plate, Crepus moved his hand along the sides of the empty space and a board of wood popped out. Underneath that was a heavy vault. Spinning the lock back and forth, Crepus unlocked it. Inside there was only a small wooden box.

“What’s that?” Diluc asked, looking over the counter.

“Nothing, just a gift for a friend.” Crepus said quickly as he pulled out the box, tucking it away in his coat.

They left the tavern making their way to Crepus’s wagon. The anxiety that Crepus had felt on his trip had been replaced by something else. In front of his son, a determination he didn’t know he possessed slowly began to burn. He was going to take care of things, and finally put the past well and truly behind him.

“I’ll drive,” Diluc told him, taking the reins of the wagon.

“No, I couldn’t let you. It’s your birthday,” Crepus argued.

Diluc gave a small laugh, “I think that means I’m old enough to drive. Don’t worry about it. You look like you could use a rest.”

Relenting, Crepus settled into the back of the wagon. He supposed it was true. Diluc was older now. He looked down at the box in his hand, slowly lifting off the lid.

Inside was a single black glove, only covering the ring and pinky fingers, but what was even stranger was the dimly glowing red orb fastened to the back of the hand. It had the shape of a vision, yet there was no elemental symbol within its glass.

Crepus sighed. A part of him was glad to be soon bid rid of it. He had carried it with him for so long. Proof of the atrocities he’d been a part of. A small piece he’d stolen to try and make up for what he’d done.

When they got home, after Crepus got rid of this wretched thing, he would have a talk with his sons. They were old enough to know that he wasn’t the perfect father he tried to pretend to be.

A thunderous roar split the sky as shadow flashed overhead. Diluc yanked the wagon to a halt, his eyes focused on the sky. 

There was a fear in his son’s eyes, but determination too. “Stay behind me. I’ll protect you.”

The boy unsheathed his sword, flames running down the blade as a dragon crashed to the ground in front of them. It was a gigantic beast, with twisted horns and dark violet scales. It bellowed, releasing a deafening roar.

Ursa the Drake, the terror of Mondstadt. What were the odds that they would run into such a beast that had been dormant for years? What were the odds? A cold feeling settled in Crepus’s stomach. Why had he trusted a harbinger who had no reason to keep his word?

This was his fault. He’d brought this upon himself through his own actions, running away from them and hoping they’d just disappear. It was karma.

But Diluc didn’t deserve this. He was innocent. Crepus climbed out of the wagon, walking past his son. Diluc looked at him in confusion, yelling at him, but Crepus didn’t stop.

Maybe after this, he would finally find some form of atonement.

He slid the glove on to his hand, and the Delusion flared to life.

Kaeya slowly spun the large office chair that belonged to Crepus. Had belonged to. He was past tense now. This chair had belonged to Crepus. This house that had been his. Crepus had been his adopted father. It was all past tense now.

“Master Kaeya,” Adeline spoke softly as she set a letter across the desk. “Some mail arrived. I’ll just leave it here.” She paused, a tight frown across her face, “I have explained everything to the staff and given them the evening off as you requested.”

Kaeya looked up, raising an eyebrow, “That includes you too, you know.”

She paused, hesitating for a moment. “Are you sure? Will you boys be alright?”

“Thank you for your concern, but we’re adults. We can handle it.” Kaeya told her with a smile.

She nodded, but still lingered before leaving, “Alright, but if you need anything, please let me know.”

As soon as the door shut, Kaeya got up pacing through the empty house. The heavy downpour outside was keeping him trapped within its walls. It was as grand and luxurious as it had always been but now it all felt hollow. Something was missing. There was a hole, or more accurately a corpse.

He had concluded that when saw Crepus' broken body, Diluc’s own sword run through him, he’d gone insane. He’d actually smiled when saw the horrid scene.

You wanted this.

Kaeya stared over the table of food that had been prepared to celebrate Diluc’s birthday. There was everything from sweet roasts, stacks of steak, to berry pies, and cake. With a shrug, he grabbed a plate and started dishing up. There was no reason to waste it.

It wasn’t that he’d wanted Crepus to die, but during the weeks while he was away. Kaeya realized he was happier. There was no guilt about keeping his secrets. No one he had to lie to when they asked about his eye. And there wasn’t anyone that he needed to make proud. It had been like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

And so he’d wished that Crepus would just disappear.

His wish had come true. Crepus was dead now and he could feel that same relief inside of him. There was a part of him disgusted by it. A part of him that was horrified. But he just couldn’t quite make himself care enough to listen to that part of himself.

There was the click of the front door opening, and Kaeya rushed to see who it was. Diluc stepped inside, water dripping off his Favonius armor. His red hair was soaked through, pasted to his face. He didn’t look up as Kaeya approached.

“How did it- What did Eroch say?” Kaeya asked. He stepped forward, wanting to give a hug to his brother, but Diluc didn’t reciprocate the gesture, remaining stiff.

“I... I just want to be alone right now,” Diluc told him, walking past him with heavy footsteps.

A nervous anxiety built in Kaeya as he was left by the door. There was a squeeze in his throat, a fear that he had done something to upset Diluc. 

Diluc, the one person that Kaeya felt normal around. He had never asked Kaeya about his eye, or pried into where he’d come from. He knew which questions were uncomfortable with and didn’t ask them. He allowed Kaeya to just exist.

He may not have been able to dredge up any of his own grief at Crepus’s death, but seeing Diluc faltering tore him apart inside. He wanted to comfort him, the way Diluc had done so many times for him. Even if they didn’t talk, he just wanted to let Diluc know that he was there for him.

But Diluc had pushed him away.

He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Diluc was stubborn, priding himself greatly on his abilities and own strength. A side effect of Crepus’s constant praise, perhaps. Kaeya had always hated that part of Crepus. Every word of praise always fell hollow in his ears.

You really think he would have given you an ounce of love if he had known?

Kaeya's right eye throbbed, the itching prickles flaring across his eye. The curse was usually bearable, a pain he had grown accustomed to. It helped if he didn’t think about it, the way it spread, like a foreign substance slowly consuming his flesh, taking over and replacing him, a parasite.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the feeling. Leaning back against a wall, he tried to keep his breathing even as waited for the sensation to, hopefully, pass. 

The curse lessened ever so slightly, and Kaeya forced himself to move, the movement helping keep his mind off the pain. Continuing to wander, he found himself back in Crepus’s office. His eyes landed on the letter that Adeline had left

The letter was dirty, with faint singe marks across the edges. There was no return address, but it was clearly marked to Crepus. 

Pulling his thumb across the top of the envelope, he popped it open. Inside was hastily written, the writing scribbles at a frantic pace. Yet as Kaeya untangled the letters he was looking at, its message was no clearer. It was in fact, complete gibberish.

Someone had clearly written this note with a clear urgency, but their message was unreadable. It was odd... unless the writer had been worried about the letter being intercepted. Kaeya studied each letter, slowly picking a pattern between the letters. It was a cipher, one Crepus had taught them when they were younger.

“Diluc, I think you need to see this!” Kaeya yelled, walking down the hall with the letter. He paused in front of his door, hesitant to intrude. “Diluc?”

There was a long moment before there was an answer. “What do you need?”

“I found a letter to Crepus. I think he was communicating with someone.”

There was a scoff from inside the room. “Of course he was communicating with someone. Connections are essential to a winery business.”

“No, this is coded!” Kaeya pleaded for Diluc to respond. “I think it might be important. Don’t you want to know what your father was doing?”

Only silence answered. A tremor of panic fluttered in Kaeya’s chest. Had he pushed Diluc too far? Maybe he should have waited to bring up the letter. Diluc was still grieving after all...

The door clicked open. Diluc stared at him, his eyes looked tired, a redness around the rims, but no other signs of tears. He gave a heavy breath and nodded, “Where’s this letter?”

Kaeya held it out, letting him see it for himself. 

They walked back into the dinning room, where the light was brighter. Diluc frowned, squinted down at the letter, “Is this that cipher Crepus taught us?”

Kaeya nodded. He remembered Crepus doing it as a fun activity, something they could use to make their games more engaging, but seeing the cipher actually in use, Kaeya began to wonder if there had been an ulterior motive to his actions.

They sat down at the table, deciphering the letter together, slowly putting together the real message. Diluc would call out the word and Kaeya would write it down, stringing them together. What they were left with was an ominous warning.

Dear Crepus, I’m afraid I might have messed up. Someone’s following me. I think it's Fatui. I don’t know how long they’ve been keeping an eye on me. They might have seen you, or maybe they followed you to me, but either way, they know you came here.

I have a few defenses at my next hideout that might drive them off. I’m not going down without a fight. But if I do get captured, I’m sorry in advance, I’ve never been good at holding my tongue.

Get your kids and find somewhere safe to lay low for a while. I don’t think Mondstadt will protect you anymore. Now that they’ve finally found you after all these years, they want that Delusion back.

It looks like I’ll have to take a rain check on that trip to Mondstadt. It’s going to take a while before I can run those samples. But if I were to make a wild guess, your son may have an abyssal curse. Good luck.

Dmitry

“A little late for the warning...” Kaeya muttered. He almost wanted to laugh, but there was a small black hole opening up in his chest. Crepus had risked visiting this mysterious person... for him . It was his fault that Crepus was dead.

Diluc was frowning as he read the deciphered code. “A ‘delusion’? And what does ‘after all these years’ mean? Why was he tangled up with the Fatui?” As the confusion built, there was anger bubbling up in Diluc's voice. “Is this saying... Did the Fatui set up Father’s death?”

Kaeya gave a hard swallow, unable meet his brother’s eyes. His own eye was itching again. He wanted his eyepatch. He wanted to curl in bed and hide until Crepus came to check on him, soothing him with a story.

A sharp pain stabbed through Kaeya's chest. Crepus would never do that again. He would never cook them breakfast, or shower them in gifts from his travels. He would never again take them out to the vineyard to pick grapes, fish together at Cider Lake, or hunt for turtles in the river banks. He was gone.

And it’s your fault.

Each breath was faster than the last as Kaeya vision glazed over. Somewhere in the back of his brain he knew his hands were clenched so tightly he was in danger of cutting open his palms... but he felt nothing.

“Kaeya? Kaeya, look at me.” Diluc’s voice cut through the white noise. “Can you hear my voice?

Kaeya's eyes slowly moved to look at the redhead, but it seemed to take forever, as if his body didn’t want to respond. Diluc was watching him with such a worried expression, concern etched across his face.

How quickly Diluc had thrown away his own emotion to care for another’s. Diluc was just like that though, always willing to put others before himself. Oh, he was so perfect it made Kaeya want to scream. Why would someone so good care about an awful sinner like himself?

Diluc hand gently touched his shoulder, helping ground him. He looked at Kaeya with absolute sincerity, “What’s wrong, Kaeya?”

“The timeline matches up,” Kaeya mumbled, “Crepus went on his ‘business trip’ around the same time this letter implies he visited. He returned with Alpine Strawberry juice, a drink that comes from Snezhnaya. You know how he’s always refused to do business with Snezhnaya!” Kaeya was shaking, “He must have had bad blood with Fatui. But he decided to go there anyway, all because of me!”

Diluc grabbed him, holding his steady, “What are you talking about? How is any of this your fault? It sounds like it was those Fatui that did something.”

Shrugging, Kaeya tried to curl away from his brother, “But he only went to Snezhnaya because of my curse...”

“Your curse?”

Kaeya shifted his head, so his long hair fell back from where it usually hid his right eye. “My eye. I know you’ve seen it. Crepus kept trying to cure the curse I bear. I never told him- I never told him that it’s impossible.” 

He had kept quiet because it had given him something to look forward to. Every time Crepus had come to him with a new idea to fight the curse, always optimistic that this time it would work, Kaeya had fed off that energy. He had always known it was impossible, but he had indulged in the fantasy because he had liked hoping for something better. But now Crepus had paid for it with his life.

Diluc’s brows pinched, still not understanding, “What do you mean?”

Kaeya’s voice wavered, before he cleared his throat and started again. “I... I’m from Khaenri’ah. You know, the ancient kingdom that was destroyed five hundred years ago... The gods themselves cursed Khaenri’ah. It was written into the fabric of the world, impossible to undo.”

“You’re a descendant?”

Kaeya shifted uncomfortably, trying to skirt around the edges of his story, but he couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. “No, not exactly. I...was in a slumber for several hundred years.”

“So you woke up years later, all alone?”

A bitter emotion burned in Kaeya’s throat. The picture Diluc had painted was such a tragic tale, the stuff of fairy tales, the material a mighty hero would rise from. But reality was harsh.

“No, my father woke me... and brought me to the Dawn Winery to live with you.”

Diluc frowned, confusion filling his face. “What are you talking about? You were abandoned. Father found you out in the vineyard, lost and all alone. We adopted you.”

“Don’t you see?” Kaeya said in a tired voice. “It was all set up. I was placed there to look lost and alone. My father knew that Crepus was a kind enough man to take in a lost child. Everything was planned.”

The expression on Diluc's face was one that Kaeya had rarely seen. Fear. He looked like a child, learning how that the world they thought he knew was not the world he was living in.

“Why?”

The question hung in the air. It felt like a knife to Kaeya. To answer, would be to stab himself, but as he looked at Diluc, his brother who’d placed so much trust in him, he let himself spill everything.

“Because I am a spy for Khaenri’ah. I was sent here to infiltrate and gain the trust of the people of Mondstadt. I was placed here to one day betray Mondstadt.” His words were defeated as he finally revealed his true self.

Horror crept across Diluc’s face as he stared without comprehension, refusing to believe what he was hearing. “But Khaenri’ah was destroyed! You said it yourself. How could you be a spy for a nation that no longer exists?”

Kaeya took a long breath, knowing his next words would seal his fate whatever it might be. There was no going back from here. “ Khaenri’ah was destroyed, but you might know them better as the Abyss Order.”

“No...” Diluc stumbled away from shaking his head. “No, you’re lying! Tell me you're lying!” He was yelling, a petulant anger in his voice, as if he could throw a tantrum to change the reality of the world.

Kaeya tilted his head, unsure of how to respond. “I’m sorry, I lied to you a lot, but for once I’m telling the truth.”

Diluc fell back into a bookcase, his shaking legs barely able to support him. His hand scrambled along the shelf, looking for something solid to grab onto, accidently yanking out book after book. He was hyperventilating, his eyes fixed on nothing in particular. Uncontrolled tears were starting to run down his face.

Kaeya took a few steps forward. A part of his brain knew that he should give Diluc space, let him wrestle with his emotions on his own, but that soft gushy side of his mind could only see his brother in pain, and he would do anything to help.

He reached out, holding out an arm of support, “Diluc, I’m sorry, I should have told you long time ago, but-”

Diluc eye’s snapped back to life, focusing on Kaeya.

Pain flashed across Kaeya’s face, flaring white hot as knuckles dug into his cheek bone. His head snapped back, star filling his vision. For a moment everything spun and Kaeya stumbled. Blood dripped onto the floor. Oh, his nose was bleeding.

“Me?” Diluc’s words rumbled like an angry dragon, a dark rage boiling up from deep inside. “What about my Father?!” He yelled, lunging toward Kaeya.

He grabbed Kaeya’s collar, his momentum throwing them both to the ground. Kaeya gasped as Diluc fell on top of him, knocking the wind from him. He had wrestled with Diluc before, usually as fun martial arts practice, but this was real. He had always known Diluc was stronger than him, but now as Diluc held him down, his muscular forearms bulging as he pinned one of his arms to the ground, that fact was terrifying. There was ferocity in Diluc’s movements, a need to win that surpassed any competitive spirit.

Kaeya's breath hiccupped as he tried to formulate a defense. He twisted, trying to get a foot under Diluc’s stomach, only for Diluc’s knee to slam into his pelvis.

Diluc’s grip shifted, one of his hands moving closer to Kaeya’s collarbone, inching toward his throat. Kaeya’s free arm scrambled across the ground, looking for anything that could give him an advantage. His hand closed around a discarded book, and he lifted it up, smacking it across the side of Diluc’s head.

Diluc’s grip lessened just enough, Kaeya was able to push his hand out from underneath him before rolling away and scrambling to his feet. He felt a hand swipe at his ankle, driving him further away.

He ran into the kitchen, diving under the table before rolling up on the other side. Pushing back against the counter, he tried to come up with some sort of plan, but all his thoughts were scrambled. There was a window. There were several chairs sitting around the table. His mind couldn’t put anything together.

“Father protected you for years. He raised you, and cared for you.” Diluc's voice dripped with hot bubbling rage, still out of sight. “He thought of you as a son!”

As he stepped into the kitchen, Kaeya flinched back, a shiver of pure fear running down his spine as his brother’s eyes bored through him.

“And what did you ever do for him?” Diluc’s hands gripped the table between them, the table of food that had been so carefully prepared with love and care to celebrate a birthday that had been long forgotten, his hands tightened around the edge and threw it up into the air.

Food went flying, a stack of stakes arcing like a thrown deck of cards as sauces and juice sprayed through the air, pies were flying like grenades of fruit set explode against whatever they hit.

Kaeya ducked behind a chair, watching the food fly past. He avoided the brunt of the mess, but stray splatters still found him.

“Why tell me now?” Diluc roared. “Father was willing to travel to Snezhnaya to try to save you from a curse, a task you knew was impossible! Why didn’t you stop him!” Lunging across the fallen table, he pulled a knife from the cutting block, “Or better yet, why didn’t you stab out your cursed eye yourself!”

Flames ignited across the blade slashing across Kaeya’s face. He could feel the heat, mere inches away from his face. The smell of burning hair filled the air as the lock of hair that Kaeya had always used to hide his eye was cut clean off. And then the knife swung back around.

Blood splattered through the air. Skin seared.

Kaeya fell back, curling in on himself as he protected his eye... or what was left of it. His skin burned and he knew he was bleeding, but far worse than any pain of the flesh was the agony of his curse.

It writhed and churned, aggravated by the attack. Kaeyea could feel it moving, spreading, like thousands of tiny hands snatching away the damaged pieces of flesh, pieces of him . It swirled, filling the socket of his eye.

Kaeya screamed, a primal emotion coming with the sound. He was tired of the pain. He didn’t want it, he had never wanted it, the crushing burden of his lineage, the life of lies and secrets. Yet those had been the cards fate had dealt him.

“I never asked for this!” He screamed, the temperature of the room dropping as swung his foot out, kicking out Diluc’s legs. “I never wanted to lie to anyone!” His hand grab Diluc’s wrist, twisting the knife away from him. “All I ever wanted was to be normal, just like everyone else.” He shifted his weight on top of Diluc, holding him down. “I just wanted to be your brother...”

The blood dripping down from his left eye froze as it dropped from his cheek, hitting the armor across Diluc’s chest and shattering apart. The frozen shards hung in the air, as if frozen in time. A sharp glow cut through the air and a the silvery orb solidified,

It clattered onto Diluc’s chest, making a sharp clink against the metal armor. 

As Kaeya took a breath in, he could feel the air, cool inside him, a cold energy now resting in his core. As he exhaled, the energy spread through the rest of his body, a soothing chill that brought strength and replenishment. Even the curse seemed to weaken somewhat against the elemental power.

Diluc’s head fell back, resting against the floor. “Why didn’t you save him?” he mumbled, his words a bitter cry. “I want him back,” he looked away, more tears filling his eyes, “I want him back...”

Rolling off him, Kaeya leaned his head against the counter, he whispered softly, “So do I.”

There was some shuffling. Kaeya could hear Diluc moving, but it seemed all the fight had been drained out of him. Something cold dropped into Kaeya’s lap. It was his vision. His cryo vision. It was a strange thought.

“Kaeya...” Diluc started, his voice shattered.

“Don’t.” Kaeya told him. He looked at the vision again. It was proof of this fight, a scar. Neither of them could take back what they’d said. They were both... different now.

Kaeya’s head throbbed. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been sitting in the kitchen, his head buried in arms. Diluc had left hours ago. He hadn’t said where he was going.

The pain of the curse was ever so slightly beginning to lessen. Squeezing the muscles around his eye, he felt there was something solid in the socket. Looking up, he blinked a few times, hesitantly opening his right eye. His vision had returned, good as new .

He scoffed at the thought, but his chest tightened at the thought of what horror he would face in the mirror. A part of him didn’t want to know.

He took a long breath, shutting his eyes for another moment. 

Shoving himself to his feet, he forced himself to move. The pounding in his head grew louder. He felt so tired. Each step plodded along after the other, until he found himself in the bathroom.

It was the bathroom to him. He’d avoided it like the plague as a kid. Even as he grew older, he made sure never to look in the mirror. It felt cursed. Like those weird superstition kids would create and spread around the block, except... there was a real curse, but he was cursed one, not the mirror.

What he saw in it now looked far worse than the reflection he’d seen ten years ago. He looked exhausted, large bags under his eye. There was blood mixed with black berry pie splattered across his face.

His left eye looked like it had been plucked from a monster, a golden iris glaring out from the black sclera. And the star shaped pupil at the center was only more damning.

Letting the water from the basin pool in his hand, he lifted it up and let it run down his face. As the water took the blood and berry juice with it, it revealed something more underneath. Kaeya snatched a towel, scrubbing away at the rest.

When he pulled the cloth away, his hands were shaking. His skin was not scarred from the burning knife. Instead, abyssal darkness inked across his skin like a seam that held him together. Even against his brown skin, it was impossible to miss.

And thanks to Diluc’s impromptu haircut, it would be no simple task to hide it.

What was he even doing? A wave of despair hit him. He’d spilled his secrets, he’d ruined his own mission, and now was branded with an obvious mark of his sin. What was he supposed to do now?

Crepus wasn’t here to guide him anymore, his own father had abandoned him, and now, even Diluc was gone. He had no one.

You are our last hope.

Those words had weighed so heavily on Kaeya for so long. He felt the way they had been etched into him, becoming a part of him like the way a tree wraps around an object in its trunk. A piece of someone else that he would die without.

Not all of us are meant to be fighters.

Crepus had said that to make him feel better, but those words had come to burn. Kaeya didn’t have the luxury to choose what he did with life. People were relying on him. His father expected great things from him. He already had a path in front of him.

Is it an eyepatch kind of day?

Tears ran down Kaeya's face as he struggled to hold himself up to the reflection looking back at him. He wanted to hear those words again. He wanted someone to hug him and care about. He didn’t want to be alone.

I’ll always be there for Diluc!

He choked, his own hollow promise haunting him.

Tell me you're lying!

You don’t need to apologize for everything. Especially things that aren’t your fault.

There’s something I need to tell you.

The voices in his head grew louder and louder, rolling over each other and echoing, repeating over and over. Kaeya whined, clasping his hands over his ears in a fruitless attempt to silence them.

We of the Alberich Clan should live lives as those that blaze like fire.

With a scream, Kaeya reached back and slammed his fist into the mirror. Frost washed over the glass, seeming to hold it together as the temperature of the dropped, colder and colder. Kaeya's breath fogged, the sound of his breathing deaf to his ears against the roar of voices in his head.

The mirror shattered with a soft chime, a quiet noise as the glass broke into a hundred pieces of glittering sparkles that rained down to the floor in a gentle shower.

Kaeya stared at the empty frame. It was quiet, absolute silence falling over him. He took a deep breath, shutting his eyes. When he opened them, he blinked.

He smiled, tilting his head and trying on a smug expression. It felt a little strange, but he liked it. He made a face at the blank frame and laughed. It was different, but familiar. Pulling an old eyepatch from where it sat against the bathroom countertop, he tied it around his head, covering his left eye. 

A pirate. An old story he knew, but with a new twist behind it now. He’d tell it his own way now.