Chapter Text
Jean’s office is illuminated in the vivid glow of the morning sun, and the Grand Master’s figure is just as radiant amidst its flood of gold. Specks of dust float down the tall oaken bookshelves, flickering about her and the Cavalry Captain as he leans back comfortably in his chair, eyeing her expectantly.
After all, she did summon him to her office for good reason — a valid reason at that.
”I know you’re a busy man, Kaeya,” Jean says after a few moments of settled silence, her stern gaze betraying the half-baked truth in her words. ”But there have been developments in a case I’ve been informed of.”
Kaeya’s lip twitches upwards in a subtle smirk as he flips a coin absently in one hand, its dulled metallic surface clearly worn from its repetitive tosses. ”I’m rather behind on my own cases, Jean. My sick leave costed me dearly — in time and in my sanity.”
His tone clearly imbues well-natured humor as he casts his own one-eyed glance back to his superior. Respectful all the same, he takes care not to lean too far in his seat, straightening his shoulders.
Jean sighs, her expression bordering on exacerbation as she continues to elaborate.
”I’ll spare your time and sanity by cutting to the chase, then.”
She reaches for a small stack of parchment on her crowded desk — a miracle she could even discern which papers correspond with each case. She slides the stack towards the Captain, who ceases his coin-flipping habit to leaf through them.
”Members of the Adventurer’s Guild and passerby alike reported ‘suspicious individuals’ congregating at the base of Dragonspine. Though the reports vary on what individuals they saw, they each describe men and women of various heights and elemental energies, refusing to engage and briskly walking away the moment they’re approached.”
Kaeya’s gut feeling gnaws at him as he continues reading through the various reports.
Tents set up, suggesting camps are being settled on the mountain. Odd behavior, often avoidant, but bordering on aggressive if prodded. A common symbol on the banners they post in the ground — a circular-like icon with four spears emerging from the core.
It seems he and his superior share a common suspicion, and as his concern intensifies, his eye leaves the crisp pages to meet Jean’s tense expression.
”Jean, even if the reports aren’t very specific, these individuals do sound a lot like..”
”The Fatui. Yes.”
Jean’s face immediately falls upon speaking, downcast. Kaeya sympathizes with her helplessness — and it’s a most gut-wrenching feeling. To be unable to snuff out such dark influences on a nation she is duty-bound to secure and protect, among the countless other stressors she must also contend with in equal priority.
But this is no mere inconvenience. It’s a threat.
”Kaeya, the fact that the Fatui are within our city is difficult enough. Their presence has already caused a lot of tension — tension that I must quell.” She sighs with all the weight of her burdens, folding her arms as she glances worriedly out the sun-washed window. ”But now they’re congregating in the outer reaches of Mondstadt as well, and interfering with the duties of the Adventurer’s Guild — it’s making everyone nervous.”
It makes sense now why Kaeya’s been summoned, of all other Knights available. He’s a master of infiltration, prying through secrets and tied tongues. Give him an hour — and perhaps a glass or two of wine — and his target will be unwinding their confession like a spool of yarn.
”So you’d like me to investigate, then? Perhaps I could even capture one of their agents,” Kaeya suggests, the smirk slowly attempting to return to his lips. ”I’ve interrogated people before. There’s always something that makes them tick.”
”That’s why I’ve entrusted you with this mission,” Jean replies. There’s almost a flicker of relief in her eyes as she says so. ”Your expertise is much appreciated.”
Kaeya begins to rise from his seat, ready to depart. Knowing how desperate the Grand Master is to see this case thoroughly investigated, he knows there’s no time to waste.
But before he can ask to be dismissed, Jean interrupts his exit with a few parting words. He turns back to see her approaching him — not as another Knight, but as a friend.
”And, Kaeya..please be careful. I trust in your abilities, but this could be dangerous. Really dangerous.” Her brow furrows as she adds, softly this time, ”If you feel you’re in imminent danger, turn back. Even this critical mission is not worth your life.”
”Jean, I swore an oath to this nation. I’ll protect it to the utmost extent of my power.” He offers a reassuring smile. ”I’ll be back. With a prisoner in tow, if I’m really lucky.”
It seems to dissuade Jean’s anxiety about sending him on such a mission, if only a little. ”Come back to us, Sir Kaeya.”
He nods, and with a brief salute, he’s gone and out the door.
He takes his missions seriously, despite his somewhat cavalier attitude about his duties. Jean watches him leave, frowning softly as the turmoil of her decisions tosses about in her mind. She wonders if she’s made the right call, the right choice. It’s not a thought she’s unfamiliar with, and it’s a thought she attempts to cast aside. I made the best decision I could. Kaeya will complete his mission.
He will return.
He will return safe.
Cantus jogs cheerfully ahead as Kaeya rides down the earthen path from the city, tracing its nose upon the ground as it tracks one scent after another.
He figures his companion will be useful in this mission; though rather friendly in temperment, its piercing eyes, tall build and loud bark are an effective deterrant for the foes they’ve encountered.
Though, snapping at the heels of a bumbling Treasure Hoarder isn’t a fair comparison to a well-trained Fatui agent. Their blades and agility might prove to be a challenge, even for a dog’s fiercesome teeth.
It’s something to consider. They both have to maintain caution. At this point, however, Cantus is so highly in-tune with its master that every few paces or so it pauses, turning its head back to check that he’s still behind it. Satisfied, it continues forward, loping through the hills and snuffling through the fresh grass.
Nothing seems terribly amiss at first passing through the region, even as the greenery fades into frostbitten umber and the clouds above Dragonspine swallow the sky’s wide open blues.
Kaeya frowns as he urges his horse onto one of the well-worn paths, his head swiveling to and fro in a manner not unlike an owl. Even Cantus’ demeanor remains unchanged, unbothered by the dip in temperature.
Strange..there’s nobody here. He narrows his eyes. He’s sure this is the spot Jean mentioned — camps supposedly set up at the base, and a fair amount of them, too. As if they were preparing for something major.
Suddenly the serenity of the frozen peak whisps away, leaving an uneasiness twisting within Kaeya’s stomach. Proceeding down the trail as it winds around the mountain’s base, the lack of tents and people is somehow more unsettling than their expected presence.
”Where could they be, Cantus?” Kaeya wonders aloud, mostly to interrupt the haunting silence that’s stretched through the jagged faces of rock looming over them. The dog perks at the mention of its name, pausing. Its sickled tail wags softly, the equivalent of a human shrugging. Don’t look at me, I don’t know either.
What’s more concerning is the hastiness of what used to be present. Clearly, something was sat and settled in the snow-cropped clearings and pockets of caves they pass by; spare planks of wood and the occasional copper mug and tattered cloth provide at least some proof that the Fatui had been here.
Kaeya halts his horse at one such area, dismounting to examine a purple fabric sticking out of the snow. He picks it up in one hand, rubbing the cloth with his thumb. It feels like it had been part of a flag — their banner.
He pauses, with growing realization, that the pattern of movement suggests migration. They’re moving..but where? Brushing the snowflakes from his pants, Kaeya straightens up, cloth in hand, as he stares into the blinding flurries in front of him.
There’s only one direction they could’ve gone, where the half-buried tracks lead and Cantus’s sharp nose takes it; and it’s deeper into the enclave of the grand mountain they’re traversing.
Suddenly, a bubbling growl rises from Cantus’s throat. Such an unexpected noise from such a friendly dog shakes Kaeya to his core as he flinches, a creeping sense of dread enshrouding him as the dog’s body language shifts drastically.
The fur that normally lies still at its back is raised in a small crest, body utterly still and facing the direction they were about to proceed into. It’s a warning — a serious one. Something’s there.
The captain barely has a moment to reach the saddle as Cantus’s low rumble explodes into a frenzy of furious barking, each snarling syllable cracking the frigid air like a whip. Kaeya’s heart instinctively thrums in his chest, and when the barrage of wintery gusts dies down momentarily, he sees it.
An entire Fatui camp.
The soldiers patrolling ahead have yet to hear the angry AWOOWOOWOOWOO of the dog’s attempts to alert its master of the danger that lies before them. But it’s only a matter of time — they’ll know.
“Cantus!” Kaeya calls to the dog, hissing its name through his teeth. Even from a distance, he can tell there’s more than a dozen soldiers, if not more concealed amongst the tents.
Cantus ignores him, charging into the swells of snow that sweep across Kaeya’s sight like thick alabaster curtains. The captain’s gut sense lurches as fear — fear for his companion — leeches into his bones.
Gods, this must be the foolish thing I’ve ever done. Kaeya summons his sword, clasping it in a clenched hand. With a few breaths to stir his courage, he sprints towards the camp. Towards the fray.
Jean, please forgive me.
”Let me get this straight — you sent him to Dragonspine without any backup? To chase after the Fatui, no less?”
Diluc’s words practically enflame the air, hot embers off his tongue as his temper barely settles itself. He’s folding his arms close to his chest — not out of insecurity, but in a flimsy self-soothing gesture as he stands in Jean’s office. He casts her a fiery look, one the Acting Grandmaster herself has never grown accustomed to.
”I thought he could handle it,” Jean replies, her own voice dampened. She pinches her brow, guilt practically washing over her as she realizes what she’s done. ”He always insists on going solo.”
Diluc scoffs. ”Jean, I’ve never doubted your decisions much before, but this was poorly thought out.”
”I know, I know.”
”He’s been gone for nearly a day without any word. He could be in serious trouble right now.”
Jean nods. ”That’s why I asked you to come. I know how you feel about the Knights, but you know your brother better than anybody.”
Trying to quell the fire brewing in his chest, Diluc attempts to rack his own brains on his brother’s whereabouts. Dragonspine is a massive mountain, and it’s easy to get lost if one isn’t careful.
But that’s not Kaeya — not at all. His brother is strong, and he’s sharp. He’s a particularly skilled navigator, and he knows most of Mondstadt like the back of his hand. Something terrible has happened to him, for him to not even send a message of any kind. To not even send Cantus, who is also missing as far as he is concerned.
Though Jean mentions she already has knights searching for his brother, Diluc is taking matters into his own hands. She knows that all too well. And it’s exactly the reason why she watches him leave her office without so much as a farewell.
A deep, resounding anxiety stirs within her very soul as she stares at the door, hands nervously clasped on her desk; she wrings them, unable to bear the utter stillness that’s hung over the room. It’s all too real, this sense of terror that overwhelms her when she realizes what an awful, awful mistake she’s made.
All she can hope for is that Kaeya is found.
Without a moment to waste, Diluc charges towards Dragonspine on horseback, the thrumming of hoofbeats rushing in tandem with his heart.
Thoughts clutter his head — all the worst scenarios his brother could’ve encountered on his own, all the terrible fates that might have awaited him in the midst of the mountain’s hold.
Could the Fatui have overpowered him? If there were too many, he could’ve lost energy fighting them back. Did they take him somewhere to interrogate him, and all that he knows about the Knights and their inner workings? The mere idea of a knife to Kaeya’s throat, him everlastingly stonefaced to their threats, blood pooling from the blade—
He shakes his head. No, there’s not even time to fear the worst. Kaeya is out there, somewhere, and he will be found safe. That hope lights a match somewhere within him, a faint spark that spurs him as he urges his horse with his heels. Faster, faster.
Arriving at the foot of the mountain, Albedo is already waiting for him.
”I got your letter,” The alchemist says, holding up the parchment as Diluc halts his horse. ”I definitely saw traces of Fatui activity as I descended — looks like they left in a hurry.”
The fact that their departure was rushed doesn’t sit well with him. The Fatui relish in taking their time in their settlements, brandishing their marks and their presence with the utmost arrogance. A hivemind of sorts, they leave only when prompted by their superior officers — Diluc’s own experience tells him that much.
”That’s not a good sign, Albedo,” Diluc mentions, his tone already betraying his underlying fear. ”They left because someone told them too. And quickly.”
Albedo offers a sort of comforting glance — as if attempting to reassure the man nonverbally. It’s not like any more words will bring Kaeya back to them.
They decide to retrace what would likely be Kaeya’s steps; using the most worn path into the mountain’s ridge, they ride into the flurry of snow-whirled wind and frigid ice caps.
”I see pawprints,” Albedo calls out to Diluc, who follows behind him. The alchemist points to a series of half-buried pawsteps that weave intermittently amongst traces of hoofprints. They’re heading towards the right direction, at least.
They continue to track the steps the best they can; most annoying to Diluc is the endless sheer of snow that continues to muddle their path, interfering with their journey where Kaeya had ridden.
It’s not terribly long before they reach an elevated portion of the path, overlooking a large clearing. Beneath him, Diluc notices the hoofprints appear to stop, and notable traces of footprints take their place.
”He must’ve seen something over here..” Diluc says aloud, prompting Albedo to stop and dismount as well. The two of them scour the irregular pattern of prints, attempting to conjure some image in their heads of what occurred.
It looked as if, while examining some of the debris left by the path, Kaeya’s attention was caught by the clearing ahead — the prints appear wider apart, as if he had sprinted. Even the pawprints left by Cantus indicate they both ran in the same direction. There’s also discolored blotches staining the snow, from splatters to puddles.
Blood.
A nearby snort catches their attention, and Diluc’s blood runs as cold as the air about them as he recognizes Kaeya’s bay stallion, not even a few yards away. The creature is anxious, pawing at the snow that also pelts its coat — clearly it’s been waiting here for a while. Or at least a day.
He approaches the animal, attempting to find any clues within the saddlebags as Albedo jogs over to him at last. He’s holding something in his hand, and the look in his eyes is muddled with the truth they both seem to be avoiding.
”I found this. I recognized it immediately.”
Cantus’s collar is revealed as Albedo unfurls his fist, and Diluc takes it, seeing that the buckle clasp is ripped from the leather — it was ripped off hastily.
With its discovery, it’s all painfully clear. Every ounce of evidence compiles into a feeling that practically tears into Diluc’s chest. Helplessness. Fear. The culmination of all those which ultimately swirls into a new flare of rage that swallows the match in his chest.
His hands tremble not with anxiety, but out of sheer anger as he pockets the broken collar. The Fatui have kidnapped Kaeya and his dog. And he’s going to get them back — at any cost. Down to the last breath wrought from his lips, he will bring his brother home.
”Diluc? Are you alright?” Albedo inquires, but the words fail to register. He’s steeped in determination — or perhaps it’s a blind wrath. The alchemist is only able to watch with concern as Diluc unties Kaeya’s horse, holding it by his side as he mounts his own.
“Tell Jean I’ve gone to rescue my brother. Don’t send anybody after me,” The scarlet-haired man says flatly. His ember-lit eyes glance down at Albedo one last time. ”I’m doing this alone.”
Albedo nods. He knows Diluc well enough to recognize that once his mind is set, he is hell-bound. Nothing, except perhaps death, could prevent him from achieving his goals.
A letter bound for the Knights’ headquarters is carried by a small pigeon. Meanwhile, a large falcon cries overhead, sweeping the skies in the opposite direction. Diluc follows his avian companion without fail, galloping at breakneck speed with two horses to look after instead of one.
And hopefully, his brother will be the one to mind his own horse upon his safe retrieval.
Because failure is not a viable option.
Diluc’s gaze hardens. The embers glow. The flame is stoked, rising, growing, morphing. The flame is warm. The flame is pure anger. The flame is his reason to pursue the last bit of family he can hold onto.
He rides on. The falcon flies forward.
Kaeya recalls sprinting full-speed into the depths of the Fatui camp, sword drawn and Cryo frosting its blade. He scans frantically for Cantus, before the swells of wintery winds die down just enough for him to see what has happened.
The alarmed cries of two men catch his attention. A pair of agents clasp their arms, blood trickling in rivets into the snow. Cantus snaps its bloodied jaws at them, as if yearning for more of their flesh.
Kaeya’s never seen his companion so furious. As more men reach the scene, they do their best to raise the alarm — but Cantus lunges at them, trying to sink its teeth into any outstretched hand or exposed leg it can find. Shouts and curses alike fill the air.
The Captain stands his ground until he, too, is approached; one of the soldiers attempts to raise their rifle at his head, but he’s too quick; shards of frost muffle the barrel’s shots, backfiring instead.
Amidst the fray, Cantus weaves and dodges every blade swipe, every Pyro-infused bullet — standing in front of a group one second, suddenly behind them the next, lurching forward and upward to pierce their cloaks and jackets with sanguine-mottled fangs. In between fervent bites, its lips peel back into a vicious snarl, its every bark a fiercesome battle cry.
Compared to the seemingly calculated combat his dog is ensuing, Kaeya feels he’s fumbling wildly for control. His shield is up constantly, diamond-shape ice surrounding him in a desperate whirlwind as he blocks onslaughts of crackling Electro and blustery Anemo.
Kaeya doesn’t have a single moment to wonder what possessed Cantus to attack such a large camp — there’s two of them, and countless footsoldiers.
His energy is beginning to wane with each heavy swipe of his sword, blood mottling the alabaster landscape in flecks and pools before their battle comes to a swift, unexpected halt.
Thick boots crunch the snow as a cloaked figure emerges from the wintery void, tall and clearly superior, as the footsoldiers cease all their fighting to bow their heads in reverence. Nevermind their thickly bleeding wounds — all is lost to the presence of this mysterious being.
Kaeya’s been distracted enough by the sudden shift in activity, but when he finally looks upward, he sees it — the very rendition of a waking nightmare.
Slate blue hair is tousled in eerie whisps about a masked face, giving off the likeness of a metallic-plated vulture. Sharp beak down the middle, utterly eyeless and no doubt without a soul, too.
Serrated teeth peek through thin lips as it — no, he — grins with the madness of a heretic. An abandonment of all that is godly and pure, his putrid grin magnifies as he peers down to analyze Kaeya’s face with utmost precision.
”Kaeya Alberich,” It — or he, speaks, voice akin to a blade scraping a chalkboard. ”We meet at last.” He steps forward. Kaeya instinctively steps back, reeling mentally.
”How the hell do you know my name?” Kaeya replies coldly, masking the alarm that’s currently racing through his veins. This is no Fatui footsoldier, no mere commanding officer. This man is on an entirely different level of their twisted hierarchy.
The masked vulture tilts his head, as if the question is just a reiteration of the obvious.
”Why, I know many things about you, dear Kaeya. Were it not for your rabid beast biting my men, we might have not even crossed paths.”
Kaeya’s heart pounds violently in his chest, his brain screaming in thousands of voices to just run. Something about this man speaks volumes in the frozen silence of the mountain, something nothing short of malevolent.
He’s a mouse trapped in the lion’s den, and there’s not an inch of space for him to get away.
”Just..who are you?”
The vulture steps closer. And closer. And closer. Until he’s looming right over Kaeya’s head. The grin settles in each pause between his words, as he utters in venemous prose, ”They call me The Doctor.”
The Doctor snaps his fingers. The footsoldiers around him, despite their wounds, suddenly swoop in to restrain him, pulling his arms behind his back. Kaeya strains his head to see Cantus being forcefully pulled away, still trying to snap and growl despite its fatigue.
”What do you want with me!?” Kaeya snaps, struggling against the pressure. ”I have nothing of importance to you!”
The Doctor laughs, a crackling, sinister chortle that chills the air more than the Cryo Kaeya attempts to summon from his Vision alone. But he’s utterly exhausted, and it hinders his abilities at the worst time.
Shit.
”On the contrary, Kaeya, you have everything of importance to me,” The hovering vulture replies. ”That, and your filthy mutt, too. Surprisingly, that thing has intriguing powers of its own. Surely you’ve noticed.”
He wants him..and Cantus. Putting two and two together, the situation has become beyond dire; mustering what’s left of his energy, he’s just about to tear free of his captors and summon a deadly burst of frost when something slams the back of his head.
It’s nearly instant. His vision blackens, and he crumples to the snow. Through the darkening of his sight and the familiar biting chill underneath him, he hears the Doctor snapping his orders to take him away before everything cuts out completely.
Kaeya’s eyes slowly peel open, then squint. There’s an odd sensation of warmth about him — humid, sticky. His cerulean hair plasters against the side of his face as he realizes he’s being carried.
My head is killing me. It’s like the morning after a night of imbibement, his cognition swimming in a tepid pool of incoherent thoughts and the feeling that he’s not quite all there.
He doesn’t recall what happened, or what’s going on now. There should be a split instant of recognition, some inkling of desperation to break free and run. Some desire to unleash a horde of ice and blades of frost against those who’ve caught him.
But like sand running through a sieve, Kaeya doesn’t register his situation properly. And he’s so tired. It reminds him of when he was a child, falling asleep in Crepus’s arms as he was carried to his bedroom.
How pleasant.
Perhaps he should sleep some more.
Was that a dog barking?
No, just my imagination , I guess.
Kaeya’s eyes flutter closed against the rythmic foot pace, returning the world to a pitch black void once more.