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A shout rang through the air as the swinging of sharpened steel flooded their ears, dancing about one another. Breath heaving as her nose flared, Jean lunged into a downward strike, spinning on her heel to target his blind spot. Bouncing on the balls of his feet, he swung himself around to watch the blade strike the dirt below them, the slice in the earth sending a phantom pain across his ribs. Wasting no time, she advanced forward, a wide-sweeping slash aimed at his waist. Steel clanging against his plate armour, her face morphs into a frustrated grimace. Hair strewed about her like an unwieldy dandelion.
As he stumbled back, feet shuffling cautiously, he caught his reflection in the glowing metal of her blade. Lit by azure winds licking the sharpened edges, he saw apprehension in his own bloodshot eye. Mustering strength in his hands, he willed himself to heft his own sword high, attempting to ignore the trembling of his forearms.
The weather was deceptively sunny, the scent of late autumn carried on windmill blades masking the cloying smell of sweat and anxiety puncturing the air. If the circumstances were different, he could see the two of them relaxing on the edge of Cider Lake, watching the birds wade in the balmy waters.
His daydreaming proved careless as a sudden thrust of anemo knocked him to his feet, head smacking against the ground as he clamoured back to standing, blood rushing swiftly to his head. The tumble aggravated tender scars, throbbing under his clothing like wounds festering. Shambling back, he watched as Jean frowned, taking in his deteriorating form with apparent distaste.
“Come on, captain. You can do better than that.” As his lightheadedness made his ears ring, he could hear the frustration in her voice at the title. As if unable to hold back her disappointment at the fraud wearing a badge in front of her. She stalked forward, seemingly telegraphing her movements as she raised her blade. Gripping the hilt of his own sword, Kaeya tried not to see a figure in black and red, a claymore dragging in the mud.
“Jean, listen…” He trailed off, mind growing muddled as he attempted to pick truth from memories.
“Either give me a fight,” Jean’s voice was strained, advancing towards him, “or stand down.”
Glancing around them, Kaeya caught sight of the alley leading toward the city square. Creeping back from the reach of her blade, his good eye trained on the opening, his sword rising to act as a shield between them. Feeling his heartbeat race, he tightened his grip, attempting to draw upon his cryo, fingers growing numb with the chill.
Forcing himself not to flinch as his back hit the stone wall behind them, he raised his sword with a shout, a flash of cryo extending from the blade, shock overtaking him as he watched the frost push his fellow captain back.
He felt an ice-cold shiver climb up his spine as he watched her stumble back in surprise, landing on her back foot at the mouth of the alley. She stood still as her eyes trailed his blade, focusing in on his slipping stance. In less than a breath, she lunged forth like a swift wind, sword pulled back for a shot of her Gale Blade.
Caught between the building, his only escape route blocked, Kaeya was reminded of a faint crystalline shield enveloping him, dusting him with a cloud of protective steam as pyro advanced. Shutting his eye, Kaeya willed himself to conjure it again.
The punch of anemo hit harder than expected, crushing him against the stone masonry as he collapsed. Falling in a heap to the ground, he was met with steel to the tender flesh of his neck, daring to nick his jugular should he move. Sweat dripping down his face, slipping beneath his eyepatch, he watched warily as Jean panted above him, hoarfrost still clinging to strands of her hair.
In a flourish, her sword was returned to the aether, replaced by a gauntlet-clad hand pulling him to his feet. Coming to rest against the wall, Kaeya let out a tired huff as he fought to catch his breath.
“Ha, I lasted a bit longer this time. Though, I could have done without that last hit.”
Jean folded her arms, pinning him with an unimpressed look.
“I agreed to help you train, not to sign your own death certificate. Grand Master Varka cleared you for active duty again, but I won’t help you with your swordwork if I can’t trust you to hold one with your own two hands.”
“C’mon Jeannie,” he groaned, pressing the tip of his sword into the dirt of the training field as he dusted off the plate metal covering his chest. He bit back a moan of complaint as he irritated his ribs. The autumn chill was beginning to aggravate his muscles and joints, especially around his rib cage and right shoulder. Part of the reason for their training being a need for him to jump into using them before they began to atrophy further.
As he struggled to keep himself upright after their short spar, he found himself relating to the way Master Crepus would struggle to walk from the manor to the cathedral on a bad day. Lately, even moving from the barracks to the mess hall was enough to leave him heaving to catch his breath against a wall.
With the adrenaline from their fight wearing off, he found himself beginning to sag against his sword like a crutch. Moving to his side, well within his field of view, Jean placed a warm hand on his shoulder. A soothing gust of anemo swept over him, lifting the pain from his weary bones.
“I know you want to prove your worth, but you prove nothing by pushing yourself to your breaking point. Your stamina hasn’t fully returned yet.” She raised her other hand to the crown of his head, cradling him against her collarbone. “It hurts to see you push yourself so hard. You’re only human, Kaeya.”
Tucking his chin into her shirt collar, he let out a deep sigh, letting his eye fall shut as he wrapped his good arm around her shoulder.
“I know.”
It was Lisa who found him some days later.
He sat at his desk, quill held firm in his left hand as he pinched his brow. Reports of vandalism near the Dawn Winery outskirts had begun to flood in. Treasure Hoarders eager to steal a taste of Dawn Winery's newest brew riffling through the vineyard’s storage. On top of the criminal activities in question, citizens and monsters alike were becoming antsy as harvest season approached. Even with all of their captains working at full capacity, he was finding himself growing frustrated at his helplessness in it all, limited to paperwork at Jean’s behest.
Just as he was about to toss the paper he was reading directly into the fireplace, a knock sounded from the door.
“Kaeya, dear, are you in?” A playful voice called before the door pushed inward with a purple glow. Looking up, he watched as the young witch slipped inside, a tray with two tea cups laden with a peppermint brew in her hands.
“Ah, Miss Lisa, to what do I owe the pleasure?” Tucking his work aside, he stood to help her with the tray. Placing the tea tray on the coffee table in the centre of his office, he gestured to the loveseat next to it, waiting for her to take a seat before settling next to her.
“I’m afraid I hadn’t seen hide nor hair of our dear cavalry captain all week. I had to take it upon myself to seek him out, only to find him buried under a mountain of paperwork.” Taking up her tea, she cradled the saucer as she sipped, peering at him over the lip of her cup. Kaeya sighed, mirroring her actions.
“Varka has me shackled to my desk for the week, I’m afraid. If I can’t hold a sword, I can’t complete patrols. I have been assured my duty as desk jockey is a vital service to our dear Mondstadt.” He drawled dramatically, crossing his legs as he tipped his head onto the back of the loveseat. “I imagine you have been busy tracking down stragglers weaselling out of their due library books?”
“Don’t speak of it, darling. I fear I’ll light up in smoke if I have to use my vision anymore this week.” She rolled her head dramatically before huffing into a laugh, a playful look dancing along her lips. “I have had the pleasure of seeing my little wolfhund as of late, though. Varka did well teaching him to wield a blade, but his skill with electro is still wavering.”
“He’s been in the library, has he not? Has his common gotten better?” He remembered Lisa guiding him through his own literature studies as a child, wondering if she had grown more patient as she matured.
“It has, though perhaps not as quickly as one might hope. It's to be expected though, given his circumstances. He's not very receptive to praise but it’s hard to hide how proud I am as he works.” She recounts their latest language lessons wistfully, like a mother recounting her child’s first steps. As she speaks, Kaeya makes a mental note to check in with his own youngsters at the Guild to see how their studies are going. As he drains the last of his tea, he smiles as he looks down at the loose leaves in the bottom of the cup before shifting his focus to the witch next to him.
“While I always enjoy your company, Lisa. I know you well enough to know a personal visit away from your library comes with strings attached. And I do wonder what you have in mind today.”
Waving a hand into the air, the young witch summons a tome, letting it gently drop into her lap. Flicking through the pages, she speaks softly.
“Jean had a conversation with me. You’ve been pushing yourself too much, and she believes I may be of help.”
He sighs, resting his cheek in his palm in an air of nonchalance, “She worries too much. So my strength hasn’t returned in full yet; I’ll be fine with more practice if anyone will actually agree to spar with me.” He had an inkling the lack of sparring partners had been Jean’s fault, urging their fellow knights to not fall victim to his schemes.
Damn her and her care for his physical and mental health. How dare she, really.
“She tells me you’re still struggling to hold your sword. But that your skill with your vision is developing quickly.” Sure, he could form ice constructs if he tried. Nothing more challenging than a dagger or a well-crafted snowflake. Anything larger than a cicin leaving his limbs feeling weak. But it was something. “And that’s where she thinks I can be of some help.”
He raised a brow as she closed the tome, passing it to him with a smile.
“You want to fight again, captain?” He nodded dumbly, staring down at the navy blue book in his uncertain hands before meeting her eyes, a spark of mirth in the emerald green.
“Read through this, then meet me at noon at the training grounds. We’ll get a fighter out of you again.” Without another word, she stood, collecting her tea tray before moving to the door. She was out and down the hall before he could think of what to say.
It was rare to see Lisa out of her beloved library. If one were to ask, she’d say her travels through Sumeru’s sprawling rainforests and desert landscapes left her longing for material comfort. Having sought her knowledge, she was content to only put her mind to work, letting her body rest.
So to see her standing tall in the training yard, familiar purple gown and hat replaced with riding pants and a loose-fitting blouse, was bizarre, to say the least. Had he not felt the familiar sting of her electro as he stepped past the gate, he’d have assumed a new recruit had taken up post.
“Kaeya, dear, while I’m sure Jean’s training clothes look marvellous on me, you’ll catch flies if you keep slack-jawed like that.” Blinking in surprise, he chuckled.
“I’m afraid I haven’t seen you so out of your element before, Miss Lisa. Forgive me for being captured by such a rare sight for a moment.” He took stock of his own appearance. His regular, leather compression gloves swapped for a lighter pair, heavy coat and button-up swapped for a billowing peasant top. Even his leather eyepatch had been swapped for a padded cotton patch.
They both looked like pale imitations of themselves.
Summoning her catalyst from the aether, a thick gold-encrusted spell book, she brought forth a ball of pure electro.
“Now, let’s see what you can do.” Without warning, she struck, the orb in her hands staining the sky a deep purple as lightning struck the ground around them. Kaeya narrowly escaping as she summoned bolts from above.
“A warning would be nice!” He called as he scrambled to call upon his sword on instinct, before remembering he had left it in the barracks. Swiftly, he summoned his gifted catalyst, shielding his head as he dodged into the alley.
“In a real battle, you wouldn’t have the luxury. Well, unless your enemy was an idiot.” She joked, ceasing her attacks with a wave of her hand. “You can come out, dear. I don’t bite.”
“I don’t see how an attack like that would help me use this.” He sulked, looking at the book in his hands.
“It’s pretty simple,” she hummed, hand on her hip as she summoned a rose from sparking particles, “we know you can create constructs. Ice cubes, decorative pieces, they’re child’s play to you.” As if on cue, he felt himself mirroring her actions, frost crawling up his wrist as he watched her pluck the petals of her artificial rose.
“But, those combat techniques of yours. The frost on your sword, that shield , they’re instinctual. An automatic response to protect yourself. I can’t say I know or want to know why your vision’s main priority is self-defence. But we can hone in on it.”
Turning her attention to a wooden dummy on the sidelines, she gestured with her tome.
“Fighting with a catalyst is different than swordplay. Rather than your body, you fight with your thoughts. Let your mind direct the power in your hands, to manipulate the element at your whim. While some may still choose to fight with physical attacks as well, you are free to fight from a distance. So long as you have the range and stamina to keep up with your enemy.”
With a swipe of her hand as she spoke, the dummy cracked, splintering into bits as electro struck from the core, spreading outward in a shockwave. Turning back to him, the witch nodded to the dummy next to her target.
“Hold the catalyst steady, imagine the power of your vision coming directly from the fingertips of your other hand. Like firing a gun, with your aim on the dummy in front of you.” Staring at the book in his hands, fingers running along the large sapphire embedded in its front cover, he imagined the way hoarfrost encrusted his blade as he and Jean sparred.
In his mind’s eye, it crawled up his arm like an uncertain creature. Wrapping around his wrists and caressing his palm, reaching his shoulder with a soothing chill. In the same way how the cold had become a comfort since receiving his vision. No longer needing his solid, warm anchor to keep him steady. The cold had become his strength, even if he had felt nothing but powerless since he gained it.
Closing his eyes completely, he imagined that cold enveloping him entirely. Sheltering him from the world and her unruly elements. The bite of his vision was a shield, the Tsaritsa’s cryo a suit of armour as fleeting and fragile as ice on a frozen lake. He pictured her protection to be not unlike a raging snowstorm borne from the depths of Dragonspine, wild and spiralling. He imagined it swallowing him whole, becoming an offering to the eye of the storm.
It was only when he heard Lisa let out a startled gasp that he opened his eyes, overcome by the sight of blurring turquoise overtaking his vision.
Spinning around his torso, not unlike a raging storm, were numerous sharpened icicles, like daggers directed all around him.
As his sight shifted to the inconspicuous dummy sitting in the centre of the training grounds, a shower of hoarfrost shot forward. Icicles impaling the dummy before shattering it to pieces. Wrenching his hands up to his face, Kaeya watched as a pale blue emanate from his palms, dissipating as his shield of icicles cracked and melted away. Leaving him standing stock still in front of the mess of damp wood and wire.
It was only when he felt a hand pat him on the bicep that his head snapped up. Watching the ice drip off the demolished dummy, she gave him a prideful grin.
“Well, Captain. I will honestly say I did not know you had that in you. Let’s see what else we can get that vision of yours to do.”
Headquarters was deceptively quiet as Jean made her way through the main hall. She had worked far later into the night than she had anticipated. Her office had gone completely pitch black before she came to her senses. Normally Lisa or Kaeya would have come knocking before it became too late, one or both of them leading her away from her uncomfortable wooden chair with temptations of Cat Tail’s pizza or a well-deserved glass of wine. Having made plans to meet Lisa for dinner that evening, she was surprised the young witch hadn’t arrived during the evening. Making her way downstairs to the library, she scanned the many rows of bookshelves, finding the entire library empty, save for a few scattered scholars burning the midnight oil at their study tables. Her footsteps echoed in the empty lobby as she searched for the librarian, checking each unlocked door for a sign of a familiar purple.
It was only as she made her way down the steps leading out of the building that she began to hear a commotion. The sound of electro cracking like a whip, piercing the air. In preparation for a fight, she summoned her sword, grip tight against the hilt as she crept quickly towards the training grounds. As she rounded the corner, a playfully sharp voice called out as electricity snapped in the air.
“Come a little closer, I promise I’ll be gentle,” the voice chuckled, bolts slamming into the dirt as a familiar figure ran and teleported about the training grounds. Shards of ice slamming against the dirt by her feet as Lisa floated in place, watching her opponent with a perceptive glint. As a flurry of snow and ice swept into the air, Jean heard another voice give off a breathy laugh.
“Haha, so sorry. But where’s the fun in that?” Taking a seat on the edge of the city wall, unseen by her sparring colleagues, Jean watched as cryo and electro collided in sparks of deep indigo, the resulting shocks causing both casters’ hair to billow out. Each caster teleported as attacks came too close, only to pop into one another’s blind spot. Jean found herself musing that they’d be great teammates if put together for a mission. A nostalgic feeling washing over her, seeing footwork she had watched since childhood, remembering where she herself would fit in to cover weaknesses.
As the duo flagged with exhaustion, attacks becoming slower and less elaborate, Jean stood with her sword at the ready. Just as the two sank to the ground, breathless and laughing, she summoned forth a healing circle, wrapping them both in a soft anemo breeze.
Looking down at them both, covered in dust and dirt, she couldn’t help but laugh at the sorry state. Using a solid gust from her gale blade, she pushed them both to their feet.
“At ease, you two. Rest for you both, come on now!” Both casters groaned as she began to shove them between the shoulder blades towards the barracks.
“Listen Jean, darling. I would have won that round if you had let me catch my breath. It’s been so long since I’ve had a good fight!”
“Jeannie, you should have seen it. C'mon, one more match and then we can stop for the night. Please ?”
As they began to bicker lightheartedly over their last match, Jean let herself think back to an older trio walking the same steps, smiling as she slapped them both on the back before dragging them back inside.