Chapter Text
It begins, as strange things are wont to do, on Dragonspine.
Or…perhaps begins is too strong a word for it. Perhaps it is merely the spark that sets ablaze certain thoughts and feelings that set things in motion. Perhaps, like snow gathering atop this curious mountain’s peak, it has been beginning for quite a while, and it is only here and now that those moments start to take shape. Whether their coalescence brings about an avalanche, or something of a decidedly less devastating nature, only time will tell.
But for now, back to the matter at hand.
It has been less than a day since Diluc set foot on Dragonspine, and he has already begun to understand exactly why the Traveler prefers not to come here.
Typically, he’s not one to shy away from colder weather, but the utter hostility that this mountain seems to imbue into everything is starting to get to him. It is cold and miserable, the winds are sharp and biting, and he’s fairly certain he got snow inside his coat somehow which has now melted, making for an infinitely uncomfortable experience.
Somehow, he thinks he would almost prefer the wastes of Snezhnaya to Dragonspine, if only because there, he had something to do, a clear goal in mind pushing him ever onwards. Here, it seems, his only purpose is to stand around waiting.
The most he’s done so far is dispatch of some Fatui straying too close to their group (with pleasure), mine some Starsilver at the Traveler’s behest (with some reluctance), and act as one of three walking heaters as Lumine kneels in the snow next to some broken Ruin Guards, a notebook and pen in hand.
Honestly, as much as he understands wanting to stave off the cold, three Pyro Visions in one group seems a bit…excessive.
When he had said as much to Lumine, her face had gone blank and she had given him a hundred-yard stare, bitterly muttering something about sheer cold. …Sure. He’s not going to pry any further into that.
He’s more than happy to stand guard, eyes roaming the landscape for any possible threats as the rest of the party converses. All the while, he tries very hard not to think about how many bombs Klee has in her backpack, or about whether one of Bennett’s particularly loud sneezes might be loud enough to bring the whole mountain down on top of them.
…Perhaps it’s unkind of him to assume that a possible disaster would come from either of them. Any one of their group could bring about one of many calamities this mountain has in store for those fool enough to traverse it, himself included.
Still, though Klee seems either accustomed or impervious to this environment, Bennett’s attire is not exactly suited to this sort of weather, and Diluc knows for a fact that a Pyro Vision can only do so much to mitigate the cold. Watching him shiver instills within Diluc the urge to deliver some winter coats (and a strongly worded letter addressed to Cyrus) to the Adventurer’s Guild headquarters.
For the moment, the most he can do is shepherd him under his own coat when they have to remain in the same place for a particularly long period of time — despite the boy’s protests that his bad luck will rub off on him. Klee even joins them a few times, chattering away about this and that as she huddles between them.
After countless hours of trudging through the miserable landscape, hope glows on the horizon. Lumine snaps her notebook shut decisively and gets to their feet, announcing there is only one location left.
The entire group’s mood brightens at the news, and with renewed purpose, they make their way down to the seaside.
Like most other things on this mountain, what could laughingly be called a beach is an utterly miserable sight. It’s nothing like the shallow shoals of Falcon Coast with its abundance of seashells, nor the bright and brilliant expanse of sea in the Golden Apple Archipelago. It is cold and dark and icy, the shoreline a vast stretch of snow and dark rocks.
Klee, however, does not seem put out by this in the least. She follows along with the Traveler, humming merrily, having been promised an opportunity to go fish-blasting once their mission is done.
While giving a wide berth to the several hilichurl camps in the area, the group eventually stumbles upon the two Ruin Guards in question, nestled between two large hills and buried in the snow.
The Traveler kneels in front of them and Diluc joins her, pushing away both the snow around their flickering eyes and the unease that their empty gaze instills within him.
After a few moments of waiting, Klee tugs at Bennett’s hand and the two of them head off to look for a decent fish-blasting spot. With a distracted call of be careful, the Traveler pulls out their notebook and begins scribbling away, so Diluc leans back on his hands and settles into his job of heat source, his gaze roving across the gloomy seascape.
It’s only moments later that he hears a distant voice asking, what’s that? …swiftly followed by the familiar roar of machinery coming to life.
Diluc is on his feet in an instant, greatsword in hand, rushing to where Bennett and Klee disappeared around the second hill.
“I’m sorry!” Bennett cries as he and Klee flee from the awakened giant to hide behind him. “It must’ve been my bad luck that woke it up, I’m so sorry—”
He’s cut off by a yelp as Diluc grabs his arm and tugs him out of the way of one of the now-awakened Ruin Grader’s projectiles.
“Careful,” he says. “Who woke it up doesn’t matter. It’s awake now, so it’s our responsibility to deal with it.”
Lumine nods at his side, and by her direction, the four of them all charge into battle.
The lack of space and the icy terrain on the shore begin to work against them in moments. The confluence of three Pyro Visions, with the addition of one Anemo wielder to spread their warmth around, soon melts the snow beneath their feet, turning what was once a mild nuisance into a genuine hazard.
Klee slips on the half-melted sludge, her next lobbed bomb going wide and landing with a muted splash in the ocean some meters away. The Traveler helps her to her feet, and as the Ruin Grader winds up its spinning attack, Diluc swings his blade into the vulnerable glowing spot in its leg, shattering the glass and the core within.
It sputters and sparks for a moment, giving the two of them just enough time to get to safety and prepare their next attack before it shudders, coming back to life.
The rest of the battle progresses in a largely similar manner; near-misses and teammates swooping in to rescue each other from danger in between whittling away at the automaton.
At last, another lucky opening permits Klee to destroy the core in its other leg, and it crumples to its knees, crossing its arms over its face.
“You did it!” Bennett shouts. “Nice shot, Klee!”
“We’re not done yet!” The Traveler calls back, and Diluc concurs.
The Ruin Grader shudders for a moment more before pulling its arms down, a bright, burning beam of energy shooting out from its eye.
Maybe it’s lashing out one last time against the one that woke it from its slumber, or perhaps it’s just the boy’s misfortune that attracts the machine’s attention. Whatever the case is, the beam is heading towards Bennett, and as he turns to look, lit by the glow of the oncoming attack—
In that moment, as Diluc’s heart jumps in his chest and he sprints into action, his mind dares to dredge up the idea that Bennett quite reminds him of someone else.
Then the moment passes, and Diluc tackles him out of the way, and the laser passes them by, the ocean behind them turning to steam in its wake.
There is a shout from the Traveler and a spell incanted by Klee as Diluc hoists up himself and Bennett. There is the rushing of wind and the familiar sound of bombs going off, a loud shuddering of metal, and then a crash that shakes the very ground beneath their feet.
The four of them stand there quietly, breathing heavily and staring at the broken and collapsed Ruin Grader.
“I don’t think this is the greatest place for fish-blasting, Klee,” Paimon pipes up, appearing over the Traveler’s shoulder now that the danger has passed.
“Klee doesn’t think so either,” Klee mumbles dejectedly.
“I mean, it should be safe now?” Bennett suggests with a hesitant laugh. “Maybe that was all of the bad luck for today.”
“We shouldn’t take any chances,” Diluc says, casting a glance up to where that glowing nail hovers above the peak. “This mountain seems to have quite a lot of bad luck to spare.”
Bennett hugs his arms around himself, and Klee looks mournfully at the ground. Lumine meets his eye, as if weighing something in her mind.
“We could head west,” she finally signs. “If we follow the coast, we’ll end up in Liyue, and they have plenty of fish there.”
“True,” Diluc says. “The shores there are more welcoming than Dragonspine’s, certainly.”
“They’re warmer than Dragonspine’s, too,” Paimon says, giving a dramatized shiver. “Paimon seconds this idea!”
Lumine gives the assembled group a soft smile. “Is everyone alright with a bit of a detour?”
“Sure!” Bennett says, face lighting up. “I haven’t been to Liyue much at all; I’d love to see what it’s like there!”
“I see no reason why not,” Diluc agrees. “…Though, I suggest we make camp for tonight first, and set out tomorrow. We could use the rest after today’s…excursion.”
The five of them once again look down at the broken, sparking form before them.
The Traveler and her companion both grimace and share a look.
“Good idea,” Paimon agrees wearily.
“Yeah, I didn’t want to say anything, but we’ve been walking all day,” Bennett says. “I can’t be the only one who’s beat, right?”
“Klee is…a little tired,” Klee admits begrudgingly, stifling a big yawn behind a hand. “But Klee wanted to go fish-blasting today…” She looks up at the Traveler with a pitiful expression. “You promise we’ll go tomorrow?”
“I promise.” The Traveler places a hand over their heart.
“…If you promise, then…okay,” Klee says with a nod. She beams up at them. “Maybe we can go looking for lizards, too!”
“Sure, Klee,” the Traveler says with a smile. “Fish-blasting and lizard hunting tomorrow, you bet.”
Klee begins chattering away, describing what sorts of lizards she saw in Liyue the last time she was there. The Traveler nods along obligingly, taking her hand in theirs, and the group leaves the Ruin Grader behind, retracing their steps to find somewhere suitable to rest for the night.
Diluc wakes with a start.
For a long while, he lies there, breathing heavily and staring up at the darkened cave ceiling, listening to the wind howling outside and his own pounding heart in his ears, waiting for it to calm to its normal pace.
Just a dream, he tells himself, trying to bury the overwhelming panic that’s risen to the surface of his mind. Just a dream. It’s fine.
Someone whispers into the silence, “…Mister Diluc?”
It takes him a few moments to locate the source of the voice. Squinting into the darkness, he can just barely make out Klee sitting up on her bedroll, a worried expression on her face and Dodoco tucked against her chest.
…Shit.
“Sorry,” he says quietly as he sits upright, his shaking arms barely holding his weight. He heaves a sigh and runs a hand down his face before casting a look towards Klee. “Did I wake you?”
Klee shakes her head, pinching her fingers together to indicate a small amount. “Just a little.”
His gaze flickers over towards where the rest of their party is sleeping soundly; the soft snoring from Bennett and Paimon that reaches his ears calms some of his anxieties. If they’re still asleep, then that means he wasn’t actually shouting in his sleep this time. That’s good. One less thing to try and explain to Klee, at least.
“Are you okay?” she whispers, hugging Dodoco closer when Diluc meets her eye. “You looked like you were having a bad dream.”
A bright, malevolent beam of energy. The snow hinders his steps — he can’t move, he won’t be able to get there in time—
That four-pointed star meets his gaze, wide with fear. Bathed in the glow of not-quite-firelight. There is nothing he can do.
Diluc lets out a shuddering breath. “…Yeah,” he says weakly. “Yeah, I was.”
Klee lets out a soft, distressed hum. A beat, and then she crosses the distance to sit next to him, joining him on the bedroll.
“Here,” she says quietly, pressing something small into his hands.
When he parts his palms, the tiny face of Dodoco looks back at him.
“Dodoco always keeps Klee safe when she’s scared. Dodoco can protect you too, so there’s no need to be afraid!”
Diluc stares down at Dodoco. Klee’s best friend and most treasured companion, whom she had been terrified of being apart from back when they went to the Archipelago. Now easily and graciously entrusted to him. To keep him safe.
He curls his fingers around it, clutching it protectively.
“…Thank you.”
It’s…oddly comforting, if mildly embarrassing, to be comforted by a child like this. At the very least, he supposes now he knows that she cares enough about him as a traveling companion to make sure of his wellbeing.
…How strange. He didn’t think she particularly liked him at all.
“Hmm…let me think…” Klee frowns thoughtfully. After a moment, her face lights up and she beams at the small plush cradled in Diluc’s hands. “Oh! Good idea!”
Klee shuffles closer and leans against his side. She takes in a deep breath…and begins to hum.
The tune is a familiar one, if a bit clumsily sung, but it’s only when she gains more confidence in the melody and begins to quietly put words to it that Diluc realizes just how familiar it is.
“Klee,” he says weakly, emotion seizing in his chest. “…Where did you learn this song?”
Her song trails off, and she looks up at him with wide eyes. After a beat, she smiles shyly and looks down, playing with her sleeve.
“Can you keep a secret, Mister Diluc?”
“…Yes. I can.”
Klee looks around their darkened campsite before leaning in towards his ear with a conspiratorial whisper.
“Kaeya taught it to me,” she says. “Sometimes, when I have a bad dream and I wake up really scared, he’ll sing it to me to make me feel better.”
…
Oh. Of course.
He is the only other person that would know it, isn’t he?
When he doesn’t respond, Klee pulls away and settles back against his side.
“He didn’t say it was a secret or anything, but he does this thing called deflecting where, whenever Klee asks about it, he talks about something else instead. So Klee doesn’t think he wants anybody to know. But…” Klee looks him in the eye. “Mama likes you, and you didn’t tell Master Jean when I went fish-blasting next to your house that one time, so…I think it’s safe to tell you.”
Diluc almost wants to laugh. If it were any of his business, he’d think that Kaeya should be more careful about whom he shares his secrets with. But it isn’t any of his business, so he bites back his bitterness and offers a slow nod.
“…I see. You don’t have to worry about me,” he says after a moment, hoping his voice doesn’t sound too strangled as he pushes his thoughts of Kaeya aside. “In fact, I am…already quite familiar with the song.”
Klee gapes at him. “Really?”
“Yes, my…” he pauses his admission as Klee clambers into his lap. “…My mother used to sing it to me, when I was very young. Younger than you are now.”
It’s the only memory he has of her, these days. Father hardly spoke of her at all.
Sometimes… Sometimes, after she passed, when Diluc was still young and scared at night and all he had was Father, he would ask him to sing that song to him. But it never sounded quite right, his voice strained and shaking, his eyes shining with tears.
…Diluc soon learned to stop asking.
“How does Kaeya know it, then?” Klee blinks up at him, clinging to his shirt. “He said someone really important taught him it. …Did your mom sing it to him, too?”
“I don’t know,” Diluc lies, trying to keep the waver from his voice. “I don’t think so.”
“Hmm…” Klee frowns. “Sometimes Mona knows stuff that Mama taught me, because of what her master taught her,” she says slowly. “Maybe… Maybe your mom and his mom shared it and passed it down to you, and now you know it together!”
“Maybe,” he manages weakly. “That’s a possibility.”
Klee hums and leans further against him, satisfied at having solved the mystery. She lets out a yawn and closes her eyes.
“If you know it, then…could you sing it for me, Mister Diluc? Pretty please?”
…He should say no. Say he doesn’t remember the words. Anything to avoid the memories that singing this particular song brings to mind.
Instead, after taking a few deep, steadying breaths…Diluc opens his mouth and begins to softly sing.
It’s familiar, achingly so, this act of cradling someone smaller than himself in his arms and singing them to sleep. It’s not quite right, of course — his brother was never quite so small, and Diluc’s voice, though clumsy and uneven, was never quite so fragile.
“You sing it differently,” Klee mumbles after he finishes, as he moves to tuck her back into her bedroll.
“Really?” he asks, even though he shouldn’t, pulling the blankets up to her chin. “How so?”
“Kaeya always sounds really happy when he sings it,” she says, voice growing fainter as she snuggles in with a yawn. “You sound…shaky,” she mumbles. “Like…whenever Klee makes food for Mona, and she starts to…”
Her voice trails off, and in moments her breathing evens out. Asleep.
Diluc lets out a shuddering breath, running his spare hand over his face. He’s disappointed — but not surprised — by the moisture he finds gathered in his eyes.
He tucks Dodoco carefully in Klee’s grasp, and she unconsciously latches on, hugging her friend against her chest.
“…Good night, Klee.”
Now alone with the near-silence of the night and his own tumbling thoughts, Diluc climbs back into his own bedroll and stares quietly up at the ceiling. For want of anything better to think of — perhaps simply to avoid one certain subject — his mind wanders about into thoughts of his mother.
He seems to recall that this month had some important date in it that related to her, but can’t for the life of him remember what it is with clarity. Her birthday? Hers and Father’s anniversary? The day she died? He isn’t entirely sure.
He should be. What kind of son is he, not remembering the barest details of his mother?
But who would he even ask, if he wanted to find out the truth? Would it be worth the pain and effort, dredging up those old memories in anyone he spoke to about it? Inflicting upon them decades-old hurt for the sake of his curiosity and guilty conscience?
…No. He supposes not. Perhaps it is best that he leaves her memory to rest with his father, instead of digging up the past that has no place for him now.
With a head full of muddled memories and doubts, Diluc holds what little he has of his mother in his mind as he drifts off, lulled to sleep by the howling winds outside.
The next day brings only mildly less misery.
Klee seems to have either forgotten or completely lost interest in what happened last night, as she has little to say to him specifically as they set out. Not that he blames her; the tantalizing prospect of fish-blasting in another nation where there’s no Master Jean to ruin her fun surely takes up too much real estate in her mind to allow for much else.
The weather lets up slightly as they make their way west along the shoreline, this mountain clearly allowing them one small blessing for the sake of getting them to leave. The biting winds push at their backs as if ushering them out the door. How uncharacteristically merciful, Diluc thinks.
That small blessing shows its true colors as the four of them are still shaking snow out of their coats. The wind that pushed them ever onward seems to deliver them directly into the line of sight of a Ruin Guard patrolling the shoals.
It is dispatched in good time, as the terrain on the beach is slightly more favorable than the tiny, pathetic patch of land the Ruin Grader was stationed on, but its appearance does not help put to rest the unease that Diluc feels crawling across his shoulders and settling in the pit of his stomach, growing ever larger with each passing hour.
The others clearly do not share his sentiment, seemingly not at all perturbed by its existence in their path. The young Spark Knight heads off gleefully, bombs aloft, the Traveler hot on her heels, dragging Bennett along with them in joyous pursuit.
Diluc maintains a respectful distance, keeping them in sight but remaining far enough away so as to not infringe upon their fun.
As he stands there upon the shore, the sound of distant waves filling his ears…he finds himself only slightly more uncomfortable here than he was on Dragonspine.
Perhaps if the sun were out, he would find things a bit more tolerable, but, of course, instead there are dark storm clouds congregating in the sky overhead, distant rolling thunder a portent of impending misery.
Rain has never particularly favored him — weaker flames tend to fizzle out under any sort of moisture, and Diluc has never been fond of the heavy humidity that causes his hair to cling to the back of his neck and makes his entire body feel out of place, makes swinging his blade somehow ten times harder.
That’s all it is. His discomfort stems from his desire to remain vigilant. To keep an eye out for danger and ensure that any and all possible disadvantages to a group of Pyro users are well accounted for. That’s all.
…It isn’t that standing here in the shoals, watching from afar as his companions chatter and converse without him is reminding him of the last time he stood on the beach like this. The scenery definitely isn’t causing his mind to drift, to think despite his best efforts of one person in particular as he watches gentle waves caress the shores, washing over cerulean shells embedded in the sand.
…
Diluc lets out a heavy sigh.
Who is he kidding.
He doesn’t know what to make of Kaeya, these days.
When he had first returned to Mondstadt, Kaeya was…a mystery. The familiarity in his letters from years before was utterly absent when they interacted in person, replaced instead by a mask Diluc found he could not read — all bright smiles and pretty words and polite distance hiding away whatever resentment and malice lay beneath.
It was easier, back then, to put to use that bitter, boiling anger festering away in his heart, born from three years of solitude and a failure that nearly resulted in his death. It was easier, then, to snap harshly and lash out, to cover himself in thorns to protect himself from Kaeya, his lies, and his surely ill intentions.
With time, with the loss of his Delusion, that fire was tempered into a quiet suspicion. After the coming of the golden Traveler, the reconciled dragon, the deflected attack by the Abyss Order and every conversation since…that quiet suspicion has since unraveled, leaving behind naught but confusion.
What is he supposed to make of any of it? Of Kaeya’s admittance that he finds comfort in the fact that Diluc isn’t entirely working on his own? Of Kaeya’s fond reminiscence on the Archipelago? Of the fact that Kaeya remembers the song Diluc used to sing to him, and that he shares it with those he loves with a smile on his face?
Slowly, very slowly, he’s come to the conclusion that Kaeya did care for him, all those years ago. Growing up alongside him — or at the very least, under their father’s roof — wasn’t a time of misery, of bottled up resentment, of sweetly-spun lies that Diluc was a fool to believe. Not entirely. Kaeya… really, truly loved him, once upon a time.
But now…
Laughter catches his attention.
The assembled children — four of them, now; Paimon seems to have come out of hiding now that the terrible weather has passed — are laughing over something or another. They’re too far out of earshot for him to make out whatever is they’re saying.
They look happy.
…
Diluc turns his gaze away, guilt and jealousy stirring in his heart.
Now it seems there is no place for him in the family Kaeya has found for himself.
There is ample space for the Knights, for Jean, for Klee, for the Traveler and for Bennett and for half the population of Mondstadt. But there is no place for him, not anymore, and Diluc knows he has no one to blame for that fact but himself. He ruined what they had, reduced his place in Kaeya’s life to cinders, and now he must live with the consequences of his actions.
He must face the simple fact that Kaeya does not want him in his life anymore. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how much it twists like a knife in his chest, it is still the truth. Kaeya has made his choice, moved on in the years he’s been gone, and has no intention of bridging the gap between them beyond offering shallow pleasantries and fond reminiscence.
…Diluc wishes he could so easily do the same.
Hasn’t he sworn to live in the present, to move forward and face each passing day as it comes? He knows the past is in the past, and what’s most important is the next step. But when it comes to Kaeya, to where things have landed between them… Diluc doesn’t know where the next step is, if there even is one to begin with.
So…perhaps…
Before he realizes it, Diluc finds himself moving, slowly crossing the distance to stand at the edge of the shoals. Water gently washes over his boots as he leans down and unearths a sparkling shell from its place in the sand. He holds it in his palm and stares at it, at the rough star shape at its center.
If there is no step forward for them, then the most logical conclusion is that he should leave all of this behind him and think on it no more. That is what his father did, after all; he locked away his memories of Diluc’s mother and did not allow them to come to light, for the pain and grief of remembering her was simply too much to bear.
…But Diluc is not his father.
Instead, he thinks, that if there is no step forward for them, then he cannot truly be faulted for indulging the lingering fondness in his heart once in a while. It is not such a terrible thing, to remember, to be reminded, as long as he does not do so in excess.
That is what he tells himself, as he carefully tucks away the blue shell into a pocket in his coat.