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Crepus wasn’t expecting visitors; certainly not at this hour.
The staff had long since gone home, and he’d put the boys to bed; he was about to turn in himself when he heard a knock on the door.
His first thought was that one of his staff had forgotten something; his second was that it was some poor traveler who’d gotten caught in the rain. Either way, he couldn’t very well just leave them standing on his doorstep.
When he opened the door, however, he was faced with someone entirely unexpected.
“Venti. What brings you here at this hour?” Crepus asked, ushering the little bard inside. Come now, out of the rain.
“Master Crepus,” Venti greeted him respectfully. “I’m sorry to bother you this late, but I needed to see you alone… we need to talk about Kaeya.”
Ah.
He quickly fetched the rather damp bard a towel. “Alright, make yourself comfortable, do try not to drip on the couch. I’ll make some tea.”
“Master Crepus, that’s really not necessary-”
“If we’re about to have the talk I suspect we’re about to have, I’d like to at least do it over tea.”
Crepus would hear no more until they were both seated on the couch with a nice cup of tea.
“Alright. What is it about my son that brings you here, in the rain, at this hour?” He placed special emphasis on Kaeya’s status as his son. He may have taken him in very recently, but he was already quite attached to the boy.
“He’s- he’s from Khaenri’ah.”
Crepus calmly sipped his tea. “I know.”
Venti blinked at him in surprise. “You- you know? How?”
“He talks in his sleep. I put the pieces together.” He didn’t question how Venti knew. He already knew.
“Right. Okay. Well, then there’s that out of the way…”
“I suspect you’re also here to tell me he’s a spy?”
The bard’s eyes widened. “Yes, how did-”
“I didn’t know for sure, but I suspected. The circumstances of his abandonment were rather suspicious. His words that night felt rehearsed, and it was amply clear he knew his father wasn’t coming back. No child who’s truly been unexpectedly abandoned is quite so aware of that. He was left here intentionally, and he knew it.”
“It seems I’ve underestimated you, Master Crepus.”
“Indeed you have, Lord Barbatos.”
Blink blink, goes the bard. “...how long have you known?”
“Long enough. You really thought no one would notice that you look just like the statues? Or that you don’t age? You’ve been a fixture of Mondstadt for as long as I can remember, and you’ve stayed as ageless as the statues themselves.”
“People aren’t- no, people aren’t supposed to- ah.” A realization seemed to dawn on him. “Muratan blood.”
So the fact that people didn’t notice those things was intentional… that was new information. And he was immune because of his distant relation to an Archon…
“I haven’t told anyone, if you’re worried about that.”
Venti shook his head. “No, I- I didn’t think you had. Sorry. Right, Kaeya.”
“If you’ve come to ask me to throw him out, you should know better. That boy is as much my son as Diluc is, spy or not.”
“...I should,” Venti admitted. “I should force your hand, but I just… can’t bring myself to. You’re not the only one who can’t seem to get rid of him. I should have turned him and the man who has no right to call himself a father away as soon as I sensed their presence in Mondstadt, should’ve cast them both back into the Abyss, but… I didn’t.”
“Because he’s just a child.”
Venti nodded. “It’s not his fault… maybe I’m just a sentimental old fool, but… I can’t bring myself to cast him out.”
“You’ve gone soft, Barbatos,” Crepus teased good-naturedly. “But I can’t in good conscience turn him away either. He’s just a boy, he’s done no wrong… I doubt he even truly understands the role he’s been forced into.”
Venti nodded. “Do try to guide him along the right path? I do have my worries… that one day our mercy will mean the end of Mondstadt.”
“Of course. I mean to raise him as my own. The choice will remain his, but… I hope for his sake as well as ours that he chooses to let go of his role as a spy. No child should live with that burden.”
Venti stood up. “Thank you for the tea, Master Crepus. And the chat. I trust that the boy is in good hands with you.”
The bard turned and left, and Crepus was left alone with his thoughts.
Yes, Kaeya was his son now, regardless of his past. Crepus only hoped that one day the boy could be free from the role he had unwillingly been given.