Chapter Text
Diluc catches sight of the rifthounds just as he crosses the border between Windwail Highland and the haunts of the Great Wolf king's spirit.
He whirls around, taken by surprise—the last time he'd seen a pack of these nasty beasts had been during his second year out of Mond, traveling through Inazuma under a fake alias. He takes off without second thought because he knows what a swarm of rifthounds look like, following someone's tail in hunger.
Thicket crunches under his feet as he hears snaps and growls grow louder. Crouching behind a tree spot he throws a searching look around, spots a rock and aims it with an easy hand. It shatters neatly against the cliff on the other side of the clearing, alerting the abyss creatures in the perfectly wrong direction—letting Diluc fall from the tree branches and skewer two of them in one swing of Gravestone.
The rest rear their heads and howl viciously before attacking. Diluc evades their bites and stings, having no desire to be drained of his life energy or getting infected bite wounds whatsoever before inhaling a lungful of air and letting Dawn soar through the pack. Several of the whelps evaporate, leaving the largest one wounded and snarling. Diluc gives it no reprieve because a battle against rifthounds is a battle of speed and not endurance—a strike, another and the third beheads the creature cleanly.
Diluc looks around the clearing and spots the last whelpling, sneaking away through the tall grass. Something glints between it's jaws, dangling from it's teeth. Diluc swings the claymore around himself a few times before letting Gravestone fly. It pins the whelp in the stomach straight through a tree trunk. The creature disintegrates with a pitiful squeal. Something clinks between the roots, rolls a few times and comes to a stop. Giving a cursory scan and straining his ears for whatever enemies may remain, Diluc yanks Gravestone out of the pliant bark, crouches to his knees and dusts dirt and grass off a gilded cryo vision.
It's a Mond vision. Diluc's breath catches—it has two wings. His hand shakes over the glimmering sheer surface, crackling under his glove with cool, familiar hoarfrost.
This is Kaeya's vision.
Diluc jumps to his feet, feeling unease and fright squeeze his heart in a vice—something feels very wrong, even if the rational part of his mind says this might be easily resolved, perhaps Kaeya has taken cover by the cecilia gardens? Sometimes accidents happen, he just has to find Kaeya in time. Diluc looks around, remembering the direction the abyss hounds were headed for and takes off in a dead run.
***
Diluc turns the forest upside down. He comes out of the brush around the cecilia gardens domain, leaves a hilichurl camp alone and does a circlewise sweep that ends at the foot of the Wolvendom cliffs. He searches the grove near Cider lake, chasing off a lone dendro shaman. He finds a clutch of dim lamp grass, two of the stems broken carefully. Raw lamp grass stamens have healing properties—Diluc checks the cave and lights the torches. They cast dancing shadows in the dark before Diluc spots the blood.
It's barely dried—Kaeya has been here no more than an hour ago. Diluc stalks out of the cave and looks up. There's another patch of bloodied grass beneath the cliff and that makes Diluc wince. He can't believe the rifthounds managed to drive Kaeya off a solid drop and judging by the amount of blood smeared over the white basalt, he opened his glider too close to the ground. "Tsk," Diluc grits his teeth and looks around. The blood trail doesn't lead anywhere and he doesn't have Razor's canine sense. Elemental sight yields nothing, except the incessant glowing of the two visions, threatening melt between the two of them. Diluc takes Kaeya's vision and sees it flickering uncertainly. A frost pattern runs from the inside where Diluc's finger brushes over, blooming delicacy curling like Kaeya's smirk. He puts it in his right pocket out of sight, before it can vex him more.
Grass scorches under his boots and falls in ash as Diluc growls in frustration. Where did Kaeya go? He looks at the cliffside apprehensively, tugging his gloves on tighter. Then he starts climbing.
***
Diluc finds the place where the hounds attacked Kaeya and sees the blood trail in the forest bed leading up to the drop. Diluc scans the surrounding landscape off the highest vantage point: Kaeya is nowhere to be seen. Diluc's fists clench of their own volition.
He spends the night in Wolvendom.
***
He doesn't find Kaeya.
***
"I'm afraid I haven't seen him since Saturday, Master Diluc," Jean frowns heavily at him, a headache written over the line of her knitted brows. Morning spills through the office windows, lighting Jean's workplace chartreuse through the translucent curtains. Diluc hates the color passionately. A mirror nestled on the side of Varka's bookshelf reflects unsavory bags under his eyes.
Jean exhales tiredly and rubs the bridge of her nose. She pages in a knight who looks nervously between the Acting Grandmaster and the Uncrowned King who seems even more terrifying than usual, sitting in the armchair. Jean waves a hand to beckon the greenhorn over, "Call in Athos please, if you will," she dismisses him and the knight salutes and escapes quickly.
Diluc's eyes roll up to the heavens and he can't help but mutter disapproving sentiments in less than stellar language. Jean scolds him and continues penning written orders. "It's concerning that he hasn't come to report like he usually does on Mondays."
"But?" Diluc prompts, impatient.
Jean eyes him sourly, before continuing her work, "But Kaeya is a fully capable adult, a reliable captain and sometimes he gets, well, detained for longer than usual. He's a master strategist and whatever is holding him up, I'm sure he will return soon as always—"
"He was wounded, Jean," Diluc emphasizes. Unreleased energy courses through his blood like fiery blazes and he wants to breathe smoke which is embarrassing in front of Jean. He gets up and paces the length of the cabinet instead.
Jean watches his sulk with narrowed eyes as she puts down the pen and stares, brows connected in holy matrimony. Diluc stops and stares back haughtily.
"And this," Jean says carefully, "wouldn't be the first time Kaeya has gone missing, gotten injured and come back severely past his reporting time."
That strikes Diluc enough to make him freeze mid-step, back turned to Jean. He draws an uneven breath because he knows exactly what Jean is talking about and shame and anger curdles at his lungs. Kaeya is a spy—no, Kaeya was a child, thrown away by forces greater than anyone human, argues a different part of Diluc. After Kaeya's bitter confession and Diluc's explosive reaction Diluc could not claim any objective say in the matter.
Whatever his feelings on that treasonous subject though, Diluc knows with rock steady certainty that if he does not find Kaeya safe and alive he will go completely Snezhnaya berserk-level insane. He forces his face from the guilty scowl, straightens and turns around to face Jean.
"At your service, ma'am!" Athos booms from the door, interrupting whatever Diluc had to say which he hadn't exactly gotten around to making up.
"At ease, Athos. Report," Jean sits up straight and doesn't look Diluc's way again.
Athos does not bring news on Kaeya's whereabouts. According to the other knights guarding the city, Kaeya left on Saturday morning to patrol Windrise and Wolvendom, stating of his plans to train a young pyro visioned recruit on sword techniques. The knights have no pyro recruits in training currently but no one will actually have the heart or guts to protest Captain Alberich's use of his working hours, since at the end of the day his work always yields completed results. Efficient to a fault, despite the visage of lazy indifference—Kaeya's style in a nutshell.
Jean is right of course. Diluc's reaction is irrational in context with his prior poor attitude aimed at the good captain—nevermind the danger Diluc would be exposing Kaeya to, carrying the gazes of all the spies in the city on his back, including the ones answering directly to Pedrolino, however much effort Kaeya has spent on smoking traitors and moles out. Jean has always had a calm head on her shoulder, Kaeya—his quick and sharp wit.
Diluc has neither, but one: animalistic intuition. Kaeya was never more impressed by anything other than that and said so on occasion, before his confession and Diluc's stunt in Snezhnaya drove them apart. If Diluc feels something is wrong it will turn out to be so, and Jean's words ring false with his core, however sincere she is in saying them. Something has gone wrong with Kaeya and Diluc has not a single clue as to his whereabouts.
Diluc listens for barely another few minutes before getting up and leaving without farewells. His father would have been appalled by this manner of behavior citing high disrespect and dishonored values but in front of Diluc's eyes dance only visions of rain, fire, pooling blood and loved ones, lost forever.
***
The blood has soaked to the ground but the grass is still a vile crusted color, left there as a morbid reminder that marks Kaeya's last point of proven activity. Diluc turns to Razor, hands folded, "Is there a scent left, lad?" Razor crouches low and inhales deeply, eyes darting left and right before he spins in a circle. A couple of the wolves stare from the forest brush, pairs of yellow slits, loyal chaperones to guard one of their youngsters but not to interfere. Razor rises up slowly, eyes searching out something invisible to Diluc.
"Sir Kaeya, far away. Razor not sure, where..." before Diluc feels upset dash his hopes, Razor firms, "But Razor help anyway. Worried for lupical," Razor pins Diluc with glowing vermillion eyes, "Worried for Sir Kaeya. Sir Kaeya tired and distracted before. Let's go, Fire Master," and the boy isn't there anymore. A ways off, branches snap and the forest is quiet once again, shifting with distant bird calls and uneasy wind whistles.
***
Varka introduced Razor to Diluc before leaving for the expedition. "I know you're not employed to our service anymore, Ragnivindr, but call this a favor for an old friend, won't you?"
Varka has trained Diluc since twelve, has been there for his first blood, his first wounds, his first kill. Kaeya has been there for many of their training sessions, teasing and cajoling Diluc from the sidelines before Diluc snapped and invented Dawn. After that Kaeya smirked and accepted his assignment to a swordsmaster, opposed to Diluc's claymore. Where his father was strict, Varka gave advice, where his father was soft, Varka would enforce discipline and dedication.
Diluc has nothing but respect and carefully hidden boyish adoration that hasn't quite faded, even away from Mond for so long. "Of course, sir," Diluc inclines his head and doesn't salute only out of respect to propriety, having no right to pay military greetings anymore.
"Atta boy," Varka smiles warmly and ruffles his head as if Diluc were fourteen again and not twenty four. Diluc lets him, if only because there have not been any other people left in his life whose physical comfort would be offered to Diluc much less accepted by him in return. Varka brings him to the edge of the Wolvendom forests later that week where Diluc meets the most precocious, guarded young man he's ever seen—and he's met Kaeya.
"Razor," Varka addresses the boy and he perks up at the name, "This is Master Diluc. Remember I told you about him? An accomplished warrior and wielder of fire," the boy, Razor, nods assent as his gaze spears Diluc straight in the eyes.
"Diluc, this is Razor," Varka continues, "He was raised by the spirit of the North, Wolf King Andrius."
Diluc blinks.
A beat of silence strains before Diluc's eyebrows climb and he looks silently between Varka and Razor. Neither betray any sign of pulling an odd joke.
"Lisa has been helping with his social adaptation and handling electro—you know how pesky that element is," Varka chuckles under his breath and grass swirls around him, dancing anemo against his armor. Jean learned anemo from this man and there's a reason why Jean is called the anemo swordsman with the best technique in the country. Razor stares at both of them from under his brows, crouched on the ground, a neutral frown fixed near permanently on his face. "You see, this child wished for a weapon I use and while I do have more experience than the two of you combined—" Varka lets out a hearty laugh at that, "—your style is closer to Razor's, I feel, Diluc."
Diluc nods slowly and summons Gravestone. Razor immediately rocks back and a Favonius greatsword simmers into his hands. Varka hums his approval and lets them have the clearing to themselves. "Leave Visions out of this, I need that boy in perfect control of his faculties," Varka says seriously.
"Yes, sir!" Diluc and Razor intone as they size each other up.
Varka has a gut feeling for these things. Diluc can see where Razor's raw talent clashes with Favonius style, where anemo and electro are different. Diluc had to cultivate the flightiness out of his technique and forge offense instead, during his journey out of Mond's reach. He can see why Varka wants to integrate that into Razor's style before he can adopt habits necessary for Varka's legendary anemo-based fighting technique but detrimental to destruction based element users.
Diluc sketches a rough assessment in ten minutes. He sees the strengths and points of weakness, some alike to the ones he had to overcome, some different but also warranting solution. Varka gets up after a while and dismisses the boy, who bows, and dashes back into the treeline. Howls go up the trail until the forest calms down again.
Varka and Diluc stare at the ominous twilight within the domain of Andrius. "...adopted..?" Diluc ventures.
"That is a human boy, Diluc. Of course they adopted him, the pack of wolves and their king," Varka shakes his head ruefully. "His parents—lovely, charming people. It's a shame they couldn't see him grow up into a talented, upstanding young man. It's a miracle he got to grow up at all."
Orphaned at infancy and raised by a pack of wild animals and their long gone deity. Eyes striking and determined, unwilling to lose any of his pack, dead set on growing stronger whether anyone likes it or not. Diluc can read intent loud and clear. "I'll take him as a student," Diluc nods, to himself more than anyone else.
Varka claps him on the shoulder heartily, mirth dancing in gray eyes. Diluc doesn't stumble, but only because he is not a boy anymore.
***
"Fire Master," Diluc looks up in anticipation as a branch snaps quietly.
Razor creeps out of the thicket on fours and stands up, head hung low, forlorn and shamed. "Razor couldn't find." He scrubs a hand roughly over his face. "Sir Kaeya missing."
Despite his best efforts, Diluc's stomach drops.
***
Three days crawl by, sending Diluc spiraling steadily downwards. He can feel his brains hurt, stuck in a loop on Kaeya's unknown whereabouts. He writes to Jean and Jean replies that she has agent Rosaria on the case which doesn't bring Diluc any tangible relief. He dreads nighttime, banished to his chambers by his head maid and lying awake at half past two, unable to turn his thoughts off. He dreams disturbing things in the wee hours of the morning, half-awake, images of Kaeya, and blood, bite marks and broken bones, of unknown plots, of faceless enemies dragging an incapacitated Mond captain away, of torture, of demise, of Kaeya's head cracked on cold stone, facing the stars, eyes vacant—
Diluc gasps awake, on the edge of the bed, sweat beading on his back and forehead. He wipes it off in disgust and slides off the bed onto his knees, rattling the bedpost as he pulls the bedside drawer open. Kaeya's vision rolls forward over old wood and crackles faintly with frost. He's alive. The wood clicks into place as he closes the drawer.
Tension drains out of Diluc in one go. He sits on the floor, sweated and disheveled. He tries to meditate, fails, launches upwards, slamming his bedroom door open and stalking into the bath rooms. He doesn't bother Adelinde for anything, stands under the shower and lets it pour cold over his hair and neck, dripping off his face. The water still sizzles off his shoulders in vapor.
"Master Diluc," Adelinde catches him as he puts on his coat hastily, his spirit already searching through the plains of Springvale. "Your guests," she says pointedly and Diluc sees two carriages waiting outside. Right. He has meetings today. With important company allies from Sumeru and Northern Liyue. Business and economy, his father's legacy, his duty to the city and his family. Right—
"Master Diluc," Adelinde stresses. Diluc stands still, then slowly closes his eyes and lets out a long suffering, deep sigh.
He manages two hours of business negotiations, maneuvering between the interests of two parties in a way that remains beneficial to the Dawn company and Mond as a whole before his eyes start crossing. He uses his trump card and calls Adelinde to serve lunch. While distracted by the Winery's finest dishes and drink, Diluc escapes to his room and closes the door hastily behind him. He tries to burn a hole through the bed drawer with his eyes. It doesn't, even though Diluc possesses the ability to do exactly that.
He crosses the room in three strides and opens it.
The Vision glimmers innocently at him. It reminds him so unspeakably of Kaeya in that moment that Diluc shoves it back in place, takes a pillow and screams into it. Quietly of course, they have guests dining below, but the fact remains. Diluc gets up, checks the mirror and tugs his hair tighter into his tail. He walks out of the room.
***
He returns right away, puts Kaeya's vision in his right pocket and leaves again.
***
"Master Diluc," Elzer catches him in the doors, tugging on his gloves and Diluc feels his blood pressure rocket, "Your checks, sir."
Diluc looks between Elzer and the hefty stack of papers. Elzer smiles beguilingly. Diluc looks over at the pinking sky. "Master Diluc," Elzer underlines. Diluc counts to ten and closes the front door. He accepts the stack without word and heads for his office in grudging silence.
He spends an hour longer than proper for such an amount because upon checking for mistakes he kept finding little ones that spelled catastrophy. Adelinde serves dinner in his cabinet which Diluc barely touches. He growls as he re-does the accounts before silently stalking out of his office, dropping the whole stack at Elzer's desk, and slamming the door on his way out just as the sun starts setting.
He leaves into Brightcrown mountains.
***
Fridays are Diluc's shift at the Share. It greets him with filth dragged over the threshold from early spring's wet dirt and drunk songs. Lord Venti isn't in town.
The bar stools stand empty because sitting by the bar has proven to be a life hazard at that point, when a young knight ordered a beer and got a scorched steel handle on the mug.
Diluc has a tangible aura of doom around him as he cleans the glasses with vicious abandon. They squeak in the unusually silent tavern and when Diluc puts it down it clangs noisily.
Some of the drunk patrons whisper amongst themselves. In the corner table a few knights are gossiping. They drop Kaeya's name a few times here and there and as well as the token "skipping work" comment.
One of the candlelights in the corner goes out. Diluc doesn't turn, snaps his fingers and it flares back in scorching bright white heat, melting wax and barely missing an unsuspecting hand. The knights go silent, before exchanging looks and quietly filing out of the tavern heads down after leaving the sum at their own table, tails between their legs.
"Tch," Diluc snaps and puts a "ten minute break" sign over the counter. He leaves through the back door and comes back five minutes later with Charles in tow. He leaves immediately afterwards.
This time he combs through the ruins around Old Mond. He finds an extensive Fatui camp and earns two new scars. He doesn't find Kaeya.
***
Dragonspine looms menacingly, the cyclone swirling and prompting goosebumps even from so far a distance, the nail hanging over the peak like the sword of Damocles from the old tales claimed by the lost lands of Enkanomiya. Diluc makes his way past the settlement at the foot of the morbid mountain range and heads westward. He ambushes a pyro agent by the river separating the frosted territory from evergreen Mond and disarms a cicin mage a ways after that and comes out by the waterfalling cliffsides that feed the lake by his winery. Diluc picks up pace before breaking into a run and jumping high over the glacial water, snapping open his glider set from Natlan.
Ridge watch stands proud, overlooking the three way border between Mond, Liyue and Dragonspine. Just a scant hundred meters away a pair of fatui goons broke up camp for a meal, as unauthorized as the other fatui military in inappropriate places all over Mond's wind blessed landscapes. Diluc's temper flares—both soldiers go down quicker than they can activate their shields and are left helpless and smoking. Before Diluc can finish the job they abandon their gear and beat a hasty retreat down the slope, not bothering with their regalia and provisions.
Diluc huffs, kicking the burnt delusions into the dirt and grinding his boot into them with contempt.
He eyes the cliff behind the ridge watch, sighs and starts climbing up. He's never been quite as nimble and quick as Kaeya but he does well at his own pace, and between the two of them, Diluc has always been the heavy lifter and brawn to Kaeya's speed and wit.
Caught reminiscing he almost misses chants and sneers of a familiar nature. Diluc catches on a ledge and pulls himself up and there: two abyss mages prancing about like poor parodies of children, laughing and waving their staffs. Diluc narrows his eyes. Someone is stuck on the ground, cornered, wearing a dark blue cloak and a white furred collar—
Diluc goes up in fire. He's there in a flash and a raised claymore burning with hope, it's Kaeya isn't it, he must have gotten himself wounded, the fool, and surrounded. That's alright, Diluc can take care of this in a moment and they can get Kaeya fixed up and doing whatever he is with Favonius right where Diluc can keep an eye on him and they can return to their usual back and forth at the tavern and—
The shields shatter like thin glass under Diluc's siege, falling onto the scorched grass immediately and they can't screech curses fast enough before Dawn razes through, leaving behind nothing but leyline leaves and ashes. Breathing heavily, Diluc whirls around.
...That has to be the most abominable cryo abyss mage he's ever seen in his life.
It's all—wrong. It looks inexcusably frail, barely two feet tall, its mask crooked and oversized clothes making it sickly thin and strange. It crouches on the ground instead of levitating like its kin usually does when approached by enemies. Most importantly: it's not Kaeya.
Disappointement and anger wrecking devastation in his heart, Diluc raises his claymore and lights it on fire without second thought but instead of putting up defense or attacking with spells—the thing throws its little hands up in front of itself, ears tucked low, looking at Diluc with complete, genuine horror. It takes a step back and breathes a wounded sound as its foot buckles and it goes down. Diluc freezes in place before he can finish his swing and the creature scrambles away in fear. It tries to crawl, desperate, but its leg is clearly twisted.
Watching this spectacle makes something go sour in Diluc's stomach despite the countless other abyss mages he's already killed without remorse for their abhorrent crimes against the people of Mond and Teyvat. Confused beyond words, Diluc frowns and lowers Gravestone. Why isn't it raising a shield? Where is its staff? Why isn't it just flying away? Why isn't it summoning help—why were the other abyss mages taunting it instead of helping? They are vile creatures but why would they hurt one of their own?
The odd mage manages a few more feet, dragging its useless leg behind before giving in and slumping over the ground on its fours. Diluc takes a few cautionary steps forward and his blade drags with his stride making the creature flinch violently but it doesn't try to get away anymore. It turns jerkily back to Diluc instead, head bowed, and goes eerily still, hands in its lap. Diluc suddenly realizes that it's given up.
It's waiting for Diluc to kill it.
This is—this is too much for him. This week has been too much, with no sign of Kaeya and now this, this happened before. This happened four years ago and Diluc could not wipe that memory from his psyche with bleach and his throw down with the Tsaritsa's dogs.
Diluc comes to the conclusion that he is done with patrol today. He throws his claymore back into the nether, dispelling it. He's not doing it, he's not killing anyone else. He looks around and sees empty fields and dandelions swinging softly in the breeze. No one will know.
He reaches a hand forward and the mage turns its hideous face away, ears as low as they could possibly go, tense but resigned, waiting for the strike. Diluc takes it by the scruff of its fur and lifts it off the ground. The thing gives a pained whine before it cuts itself off. Diluc looks around owlishly, fights with himself on the matter of Kaeya's whereabouts, ponders his sanity and heads in the direction of the winery. Can mages be used as sniffer dogs? In his grip the mage shifts in discomfort but otherwise doesn't struggle or demonstrate any aggressive behavior. Diluc shrugs to himself and puts the creature in the crook of his arm.
"What," Diluc snaps at the mage when it doesn't stop staring at him in clear shock throughout his trek down the slopes between Dragonspine and Mond. It warbles something quiet and incoherent but stops quickly, covering its masked face with its little black palms.
Diluc blows stray hair locks off his face and sighs, "I don't know what I'm doing. I was looking for K— for a friend. I... I don't know how to find him," he admits for archons know what reason, since he's basically sharing state secret information with the enemy of said state.
He doesn't actually expect a reply so it takes him by surprise when the abyss mage tenses suspiciously at that and quickly looks away. Diluc snatches it up with his right hand, dangling it before his face and glaring down at it menacingly, "You... know where he is." It comes out as a statement rather than a question.
The creature struggles away and tries to hide its head between its fur and shoulders. Diluc snarls smoke, spitting sparks. Before he can start setting things on fire the mage puts its tiny hand in the fur over its chest and hesitantly holds out something to Diluc.
It's Kaeya's eyepatch.