Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kaeya,

I trust this letter finds you well, though I doubt it matters to you. There are things that need to be said, and this is the only way I can bring myself to voice them.

I left Mondstadt with a purpose, one that I believe you are well aware of. The Fatui's actions and their involvement in my father's death cannot go unanswered. I have dedicated myself to this cause, and it is a path I must walk alone.

I do not expect you to understand my decisions, nor do I seek your forgiveness for what transpired between us that night. The truth you revealed was a dagger to my heart, one that I have struggled to remove ever since.

Your presence in Mondstadt, serving the Knights of Favonius, is quite ironic, considering the nature of your origins. Yet, I cannot deny that you are effective in your role. Perhaps there is some twisted sense of duty in you that compels you to protect our city. Or maybe it is just another layer of your deception.

Despite my anger and the betrayal I feel, I cannot completely sever the bond that ties us. You were, after all, my brother. And even though our paths have diverged, there is a part of me that cannot help but hope you stay safe. This vendetta of mine is not something I would wish upon anyone, not even you.

Do not mistake this letter for a plea for reconciliation. I am far from forgiving you. However, I needed you to know that in spite of everything, I do not wish you harm.

Continue your work in Mondstadt. Protect our city, if that is truly your intention. But know this: I will never forget the betrayal, nor will I forgive it. My path is set, and I will see it through to the end.

Diluc

Chapter Text

Dear Diluc,

I doubt you will ever read this, but there are things left unsaid that have been weighing on my mind. Perhaps writing them down will bring some clarity to the chaos within me.

Your departure from Mondstadt was expected, though the swiftness of it took many by surprise. The fire of your vengeance burns brightly, and I know nothing I say will douse those flames. The Fatui deserve the reckoning you seek to bring upon them, and for that, I cannot fault you.

Our last confrontation left scars deeper than any physical wound. The truth I revealed was a burden I had carried for far too long, a poison that needed to be expelled. I knew it would hurt you, but I never imagined it would drive such a wedge between us. Yet, I do not regret telling you. Deception, even in the name of duty, is a prison, and I could no longer bear its weight.

I will remain in Mondstadt, playing my role among the Knights of Favonius. It is a strange existence, caught between loyalty to the city I protect and the shadow of my past. You might question my intentions, and rightly so. I question them myself at times. But know this: I fight for Mondstadt not out of obligation or deceit, but because it is the right thing to do. This city, my home, deserves to be defended.

I do not seek your forgiveness, Diluc, nor do I expect it. But I hope that one day, when the flames of your rage have dimmed, you might see the truth behind my actions. I never wished for this; I only sought to be honest, to free us both from the lies that bound us.

Take care of yourself. Your path is dangerous, and I fear for your safety more than I care to admit. I know you are strong, but even the strongest can fall. Do not let your thirst for vengeance consume you entirely.

May the winds guide you back to us when your quest is complete.

Kaeya

Chapter Text

Dear Kaeya,

It has been months since I last wrote to you. I had hoped that putting my thoughts to paper would bring some semblance of closure, but it appears that is not the case.

I write to you now from a place of forced reflection. A mission did not go as planned, and I found myself on the receiving end of a blade. The wound is not life-threatening, but it has provided ample time for reflection. As I lay there, feeling the sharp sting of steel, I could not help but wonder if this is what you felt that night, when my sword struck you.

In the heat of our confrontation, I did not allow myself to consider your suffering. My anger blinded me, and my actions were driven by a sense of betrayal that I still grapple with. But now, as I lie here with my own pain, I cannot help but think of yours.

The revelation of your true origins was a blow I was ill-prepared to face. Yet, in these quiet moments of recovery, I find myself contemplating not just the betrayal, but the reasons behind it. You were a pawn in a game neither of us chose to play, and for that, I am beginning to understand.

Your presence in Mondstadt is a paradox I have yet to fully comprehend. It is both a source of irritation and a strange comfort to know you are there, guarding the city we once called home. I trust you to do what is right, even if I cannot fully trust you.

This mission I am on, this path of vengeance against the Fatui, has taken its toll. There are moments when I question the very foundation of my resolve. But then I remember our father, and the fire within me reignites. This pursuit of justice is a dangerous dance, and I am reminded daily of its costs.

Kaeya, I do not know what the future holds for us. Our paths may never cross again, and perhaps that is for the best. Yet, there is a part of me that hopes you remain safe, that you find a way to navigate the shadows of your past with more compassion than I have managed to grant you.

Take care of yourself. The world is a treacherous place, and even those who walk in darkness need a light to guide them.

Diluc

Chapter Text

Dear Diluc,

Though I am certain this letter will join its predecessor in the realm of unreceived correspondence, I feel compelled to write nonetheless. Time has passed, and with it, many events and emotions that I struggle to put into words. I’ve found myself with a bottle of Mondstadt’s finest, which, as you might imagine, tends to loosen the tongue and the pen. Your tavern, your legacy, still provides a refuge, even in your absence.

Life here continues to unfold in unexpected ways. I've made many new friends, been embraced by the warm, welcoming people of Mondstadt. Yet, I can't help but question, do I truly deserve their kindness? For someone who has long stood on the periphery, hiding behind secrets, their unquestioning acceptance feels unsettling.

Andt sometimes, when the nights are long and the wine flows freely, I find myself doubting everything. The bottom of a bottle has become a familiar sight, a quiet companion in the solitude I often feel. I wonder if you felt the same, during those dark nights of your own. Would you think even less of me for it?

The burn of alcohol offers a temporary reprieve, a momentary silence to the noise inside my head. It has become a habit, perhaps a dangerous one, but it is one of the few comforts I have. The drinks blur the edges of my guilt and the relentless questioning of my worthiness. It’s a fleeting escape, but one I have come to rely on more than I should.

You’d probably scoff at me if you saw me now, a glass perpetually in hand, trying to forget the unforgivable. Maybe you’d understand, or maybe you’d just shake your head in disappointment. Either way, I wouldn’t blame you.

I know you don’t seek my company, and perhaps you never will. But know this, despite everything, I am still your brother. And in my own flawed, broken way, I still care. Stay safe, Diluc. For both our sakes.

Yours, perhaps foolishly,

Kaeya

Chapter Text

Dear Kaeya,

It's been a while since I've written. My travels have taken me far, and Snezhnaya is as harsh and unwelcoming as the stories suggest. Yet, even in this cold, there is a kind of camaraderie found in the warmth of taverns, where people gather to drink away the chill and the hardships of their daily lives. It's a scene that's both foreign and familiar to me.

I remember my own rebellious days, sneaking drinks from our father's winery. Back then, it seemed like a thrilling defiance. Now, looking around at the faces here, I see the toll that such a life takes. I've come to despise what alcohol does to people, though I can't help but understand why they turn to it. It's a temporary solace, a fleeting escape from reality that I no longer indulge in. My days of drinking are behind me, not because I fear losing control, but because I have seen the mask it creates and the destruction it can leave in its wake.

Your birthday passed a few weeks ago; I haven't forgotten. Happy belated birthday, Kaeya. I hope you celebrated responsibly. You're old enough now to drink without subterfuge, and while I understand the allure of the bottle, especially given the burdens you carry, I urge you to wield that freedom with care.

I found a bottle of Pinot Noir in a small shop here; our father's favourite, as you might recall. It made me think of you. Despite my views on alcohol, I understand its significance in our memories and our past. I thought you might appreciate it, not for the drink itself, but for the remembrance of better days, of evenings spent in the quiet company of our family, before everything changed.

Stay safe. The path you walk is fraught with challenges, but I believe in your resilience. Protect Mondstadt, and in doing so, protect yourself.

With guarded affection, Diluc

Diluc

Chapter Text

Dear Diluc,

I hesitated before writing this letter, knowing that you may never read it, and even if you did, the words may only serve to widen the chasm between us. But the weight of my thoughts has grown too heavy to bear alone, and perhaps this letter, unread though it may be, will bring me some semblance of relief.

Life in Mondstadt continues, but it feels like I'm merely existing rather than living. There are days when it's been difficult to find the strength to carry on. My appetite has vanished, and with it, my energy. The food I once enjoyed now tastes like ash, and I struggle to force down even a few bites. It's as if my body is mirroring the emptiness I feel inside, a hollow shell of what I used to be.

There's something else, something darker, that I've not spoken of before. I've found a way to make myself useful, or at least that's how I justify it to myself in the dim hours of the night. Some of the older men in Mondstadt, those with secrets and power, they... appreciate me. Not for who I am, but for what I can offer them. They seem to appreciate my frailty, my inability to resist. I’ve become adept at using this unwanted attention to gather information, trading pieces of myself for scraps of intel. It's degrading, yet there's a part of me that clings to this role. It makes me feel less worthless, knowing that I can still contribute, however sordid the means.

I don’t know why I’m telling you this. Perhaps it’s a twisted hope that, despite everything, you might still care enough to intervene, to pull me out of this abyss I’ve found myself in. Or maybe it’s just the last vestige of our brotherhood that drives me to reach out, to confess my sins in the hope of absolution or, at the very least, understanding.

I don’t expect you to understand me, Diluc. The choices I’ve made are my own, and the consequences are mine to bear. But some part of me, the part that still remembers our bond, wishes for a miracle, for a sign that I’m not completely alone in this darkness.

Stay safe, wherever you are. 

Kaeya

Chapter Text

Dear Kaeya,

It’s strange, the paths we choose and the lengths we go to in order to achieve our goals. My journey has led me deeper into the heart of darkness than I ever anticipated. I've infiltrated the Fatui, taken on their missions, and carried out tasks that no man should ever have to consider. Each day, the weight of my actions grows heavier, and I find myself questioning whether any of it is worth the price.

The blood on my hands is a stark reminder of the cost of vengeance. The things I've done in the name of justice...no, revenge; are unforgivable. I look at the crimson stains and wonder if I've truly lost my way. The ideals I once held so dear seem distant, obscured by the atrocities I've committed. There are moments when I catch my reflection, and I barely recognize the man staring back at me. His eyes are colder, harder, devoid of the warmth that once defined him.

I often think of you, Kaeya, and wonder how you’re faring. There’s a part of me that hopes you’ve found some semblance of peace in Mondstadt, that you’re continuing to protect the city in your own way. As time goes on, I find myself less consumed by anger and more by a deep, aching sorrow.

I wish I could say that I believe in the path I’ve chosen, that these sacrifices are necessary for the greater good. But each day brings new doubts. How many more lives must I ruin? How many more souls must I taint to achieve my goal? And when all is said and done, will I even recognize the person I’ve become?

In my darkest moments, I wonder if this is what father would have wanted. Would he be proud of the lengths I’ve gone to, or would he be horrified by the monster I’ve become? I no longer drink, not since the day I swore to avenge him, but sometimes I wish I could drown my sorrows, silence the voices of those I’ve harmed. 

I hope you’re taking care of yourself, Kaeya. I don’t know if we’ll ever find our way back to each other, or if the wounds we’ve inflicted are too deep to heal. But I hope, wherever you are, you’re safe and finding your own path to redemption.

Take care, Kaeya. For all our sakes, take care.

Diluc

Chapter Text

Dear Diluc,

It feels strange, but here I am, writing to you once more. Life in Mondstadt has taken an unexpected turn, and I find myself needing to share it with someone, even if that someone is you, who may never read this.

Recently, I met someone who has unexpectedly brought some light into my life: Albedo, the Chief Alchemist of the Knights of Favonius. Our paths crossed more frequently as I sought his expertise on various matters. Over time, I discovered that we share more in common than I initially thought. His past is linked with Kaenria’h much like mine, and he carries the weight of that history with a quiet strength that I can't help but admire.

Spending time with Albedo has been... refreshing, to say the least. He's incredibly kind, intelligent, and, dare I say, quite pretty. There’s a serenity about him that draws people in, myself included. I’ve found myself looking forward to our conversations, to the quiet moments we share in his lab, surrounded by books and alchemical instruments. It's a reprieve from the chaos of my own thoughts, a rare peace that I never thought I deserved.

I let it slip the other day, in a moment of unguarded honesty, that I have developed a bit of a feeling for him. It’s embarrassing to admit, but there it is. Albedo is someone who sees me for who I am, flaws and all, and still chooses to spend time with me. That feeling of being understood, of not having to hide behind a mask, is something I thought was not meant for me.

The more time we spend together, the more I realize how much I’ve been missing this sense of connection. I don’t know where this will lead, or if it’s even wise to let myself feel this way, but for now, it’s enough.

Perhaps this is a step towards healing, or maybe just a temporary distraction. Either way, I’m grateful for it. Albedo’s presence in my life has given me something to look forward to, a reason to get through the tougher days. It’s strange how meeting one person can shift your perspective so dramatically.

Take care, Diluc.

Yours, with cautious hope, Kaeya

Chapter Text

To you who can't hear me,

Tonight, I lost a friend. His life slipped away slowly, painfully in my arms, while I watched him plea for the help I couldn't provide. The recklessness that drives me, now leaves me questioning if his death could have been avoided. Could I have saved him if I had been more cautious, more careful?

The cruelest thing about death is the illusion it shatters.We think we are strong enough to avoid it. Among all the lies we tell ourselves about how strong we must appear, death feels like the ultimate failure. It's a brutal reality that strikes deep when you're left holding the lifeless weight of a friend who trusted you to protect him. The agony of that failure is beyond words.

As I held him, as I felt the life drain from his body, I couldn't help but think. What if you hadn't survived that night? What if my anger had ended your life? The thought chills me to the core. Why didn't you defend yourself, Kaeya? Why did you allow me to strike you down without resistance? Were you seeking some form of penance, some twisted absolution?

We weren't on safe land, and the option for a proper burial, a moment to honor his life, was not available to me. I realized then, with a sinking heart, that even if I had been able to lay him to rest, I wouldn't have known his family name to mark his grave. In all our time together, he never told me, and … I never asked.  I thought there would be more time.

Is this my curse from the Archon, to witness the deaths of those around me, to bear the burden of causing so many of them? Each life lost weighs heavily on my soul, and the faces of the fallen haunt my dreams.

Perhaps it is a fitting punishment for the lives I've taken. Yet, I cannot stop. The path I've chosen is one I must see to the end. But it doesn't make the losses any easier to bear. 

I hope you are safe, Kaeya. I hope you never have to endure this kind of pain. And if you do, know that I understand it all too well. Take care of yourself. Hold on to life, however fleeting it may seem.

With a heavy heart,

Diluc

Chapter Text

Dear Kaeya,

It’s strange to be back in Mondstadt after all this time. The journey to Snezhnaya feels like a lifetime ago, and yet, stepping foot back in the city feels both foreign and familiar. The air is still sweet with the scent of the vineyards, and the wind whispers through the trees the way it always has. The Angel’s Share stands just as it did before I left, the hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses filling the space like a song I once knew by heart but now struggle to remember.

I walked through the city, looking at the faces of people I once knew well, and yet everything felt different. Life has moved on without me, as it should, but there’s a part of me that wonders what I missed, what moments slipped through my fingers while I was away.

And then there’s you.

I thought I was prepared to see you again, but nothing could have braced me for the reality of it. You were always a mystery to me, but now... now you’ve changed in ways I can’t quite grasp. It’s as if the person I once knew, the brother I grew up with, has been replaced by a stranger wearing your face. You carry yourself differently, your words sharper, your eyes clouded with something I can’t quite name. It’s not just time that has changed you; it’s something deeper, something that flickers beneath the surface like a flame on the verge of being snuffed out.

I wanted to speak with you, to ask how you’ve been, to bridge the chasm that still lies between us, but I couldn’t. The words died in my throat before they even had a chance to form. Standing there, watching you from a distance, I wondered if perhaps... perhaps I did kill you that day. Maybe not in body, but in spirit. The Kaeya I knew, the one who used to spar with me and trade barbs with a sly smile, feels like a ghost now.

I wonder if you felt the same when you looked at me. Have I become a shadow of the man you once knew? Has the fire of my vengeance burned away everything but ash?

I thought returning home would bring me some peace, some closure, but instead, I feel more lost than ever. The city is the same, but I am not, and neither are you. I can’t help but wonder if this distance between us is one we’ll ever be able to close, or if we’ve both changed too much to ever find our way back to each other.

I hope you’re doing well, Kaeya, despite everything. I hope the flame within you hasn’t gone out completely. And perhaps, one day, when I can finally gather the courage, we’ll talk about all that’s been left unsaid.

Until then, take care of yourself. For both our sakes.

With lingering regret, 

Diluc

Chapter Text

Master Diluc,

It's strange how time seemed to stand still in your absence. While Mondstadt carried on with its festivals and daily bustle, for me, everything felt suspended, frozen in a moment, waiting for your return. I held onto the belief that when you came back, perhaps things could return to the way they once were, or at least resemble something close to it.

But when our paths crossed today, any words I might have spoken caught in my throat, turning to ice before they could leave my lips. Your gaze was distant, unreadable, and all I could muster was a cold, unmovable stare in return. It was as if the world around us faded, leaving only an expanse of silence that neither of us knew how to fill.

I had imagined this moment countless times, rehearsed the things I wanted to say, the apologies I wanted to offer, the explanations I hoped you'd hear. Yet, faced with the reality of your presence, I found myself paralyzed, the weight of our shared past pressing down like a winter's chill.

For the first time in years, I found myself questioning something I’ve tried to bury deep within me. Should I have died that night? When you raised your sword, part of me wondered if it would’ve been easier, cleaner, if you’d just finished what you started. Maybe then this feeling, this endless cold that wraps itself around my heart, would have faded with me. Maybe I wouldn’t be here, staring at the empty space between us, wondering if anything could ever fill it.

The city has changed, flickering like a flame touched by an unpredictable wind, but in some ways, it remains the same: a place filled with memories both cherished and painful. I thought your return might thaw the ice that has settled around my heart, but now I realize that time and distance have forged barriers we may never overcome.

I don't know if we'll ever find our way back to each other, or if the chasm between us is too vast. But despite the coldness that has settled between us, a part of me still longs for reconciliation, or at least understanding.

I don’t know if we’ll ever find our way back, but I hope, at the very least, you find peace.

With fading hope

Kaeya

Chapter Text

We met again.

Ever since we returned from the Golden Apple Archipelago, I find my thoughts drifting back to those sunlit shores. The days we spent there, gathering seashells and listening to the rhythmic lull of the waves, felt like a step out of time, a respite from the complexities that usually surround us.

Watching you stroll along the beach, with the wind in your hair and that familiar spark in your eyes, stirred something long dormant within me. It reminded me of simpler times, before fate and circumstance wove such tangled webs around us. For a moment, it was just us... lost somechere on a kinder world.

I want you to know that I don't hate you, Kaeya. Perhaps I never truly did. Our past has cast long and confusing shades over my feelings, but hatred was never the right word to describe them. If I'm honest, I miss the person I was before I met you. I miss the unburdened youth who hadn't yet learned of betrayal or loss, who didn't carry the weight of expectations and secrets. But meeting you also brought moments of joy, camaraderie, and understanding that I wouldn't trade for anything.

Our time on the archipelago gave me hope that perhaps not all bridges between us have been burned. Maybe, just maybe, we can build new ones. Ones that acknowledge our past but aren't shackled by it. I realise now that holding onto old grievances only serves to chain us to who we were, not who we could become.

I cherished those days more than words can express. They were a reminder that beneath all the layers we've accumulated.the duties, the facades, the hurts we are still capable of connecting, of finding common ground. It may not erase the past, but it offers a path forward.

I hope we can continue to find moments like those, where the world's noise fades and we can simply be ourselves. Perhaps over a quiet drink at the Angel's Share or another spontaneous adventure.

Take care of yourself, Kaeya. I'm cautiously optimistic about what the future might hold for us, and I look forward to discovering it together, one step at a time.

Yours in newfound hope,

Diluc

Chapter Text

Dear Kaeya, 

I hope this letter reaches you, though I wonder if you’ll actually read it. After all, I don’t often write letters meant for you to receive. It feels strange, doesn’t it? To write with the hope of my words meeting you, rather than just my silence.

Last night, sitting together with everyone it has been far too long since we shared a moment like that. When Albédo mentioned that you’d lost weight, his usual composed tone faltered, just a little. He sounded worried. And though he tried to brush it off, I could see it stayed with him. Honestly, it stayed with me too. I couldn’t ignore it. Jean and I decided that perhaps it was time to do something about it, even if just for one night.

We spent the afternoon recreating Father’s “Pile 'Em Up.” Do you remember how we’d devour plate after plate of it as teenagers, with all the reckless hunger of growing boys? Adelinde would cross her arms, her disapproving hum making us squirm, reminding us to eat the vegetables, too. But it didn’t matter then, did it? Back then, the dining room was filled with laughter, arguments over the last portion, and Father’s voice calling us insatiable. Last night, in a way, it felt like I could hear it all again. I think Adelinde would forgive us for the imbalance this time. For one night, it was enough just to see you smile.

Jean was reliable, as always. She brought order to the kitchen that I could never muster on my own, her calm voice guiding every step. She even managed to drag the Traveller into helping, and together, they kept me from burning half the meal. I can’t tell you how much Jean admires you, Kaeya, despite how much trouble you’ve given her over the years. It’s not duty, I think, but something gentler, genuine care for the person she sees beneath the charms.

As for the alcohol… You know me, I’ve never had a taste for it. Even now, the bitterness grates on my tongue. But last night, as I watched you tilt your cup with laughter dancing in your eyes, something shifted. The bitterness wasn’t so bad. Seeing you happy, genuinely happy, reminded me of why I still care so much. And for that one evening, you weren’t the elusive Cavalry Captain, the enigma who guards his secrets with a smile. You were just my baby brother again, laughing like we did when the world was simpler.

I spoke with Albédo again after the festivities ended. He stayed behind a little longer than the others, as he often does. You should have heard him talk about you. His words were careful, deliberate, but there was a warmth in them that I rarely hear from him. He worries for you, Kaeya, but he also admires you deeply. I can see it in the way his expression softens when your name comes up. I think you’ve found someone who truly understands you, who sees the layers you try to hide and still chooses to stay. I hope you let him stay.

Happy birthday, Kaeya. You are not as alone as you might think, even if the shadows sometimes convince you otherwise. There are people who care about you more than words can say. Please, take care of yourself. If you ever need a reminder of what it’s like to feel at home, you know where to find us.

With all our care, 

Your familly.

Chapter Text

Dear Diluc,

Another year has come and gone, and here I am, writing to you as if those eight years haven’t stretched between us. It’s strange how time marches on, yet in our hearts, some people remain right where we left them. I’ve been thinking about all the changes this year has brought unexpected kindnesses, moments of genuine laughter and I’m grateful for every one of them. I’m especially grateful for the rare occasions when our paths have crossed, like ships meeting in the same harbour by chance or perhaps by something else entirely.

Have you noticed how the winds pick up a little every time we meet? There’s always that subtle rustle through the branches and a faint scent of dandelions. Maybe Barbatos himself is nudging us, hoping to sweep away the lingering shadows of the past. Though, knowing you, you might say it’s all coincidence or that the Anemo Archon simply has a particular fondness for your wine. I’ve caught wind of the Angel’s Share “forgetting” a few tabs whenever you’re in a good mood, too. Makes me wonder if the wine tastes better when your heart’s lighter.

All teasing aside, I can’t help but hope perhaps even believe that this year might be different. Eight years is a long time to nurture old wounds in silence. Writing this isn’t easy, and I won’t pretend I’ve forgotten what came between us. But I realize now that we’ve both been carrying these burdens alone for far too long. And I don’t want us walking separate paths like strangers anymore.

I’ve missed you, Diluc.

This city has a way of embracing even those of us who’ve felt like outsiders. And though I may not share its blood, Mondstadt has always found ways to remind me that I belong. Funny, isn’t it? No matter how far I drift, the winds always guide me back, just as they seem to weave our paths together time and again.

So here’s to a new year, brother. May it bring you the peace you deserve, and guide us both toward brighter days. And if the winds ever carry you to the Angel’s Share on a quiet evening, perhaps I’ll see you there. I promise not to leave you with the bill though I’d hardly object if you decided to smile a bit more often.

Yours, Kaeya

P.S. Speaking of smiles, Jean seems to be quite fond of yours. It’d be a shame to keep it hidden behind that perpetual scowl.

Chapter Text

Kaeya,

I imagine the recent weather has made things challenging for all of us. Mondstadt’s sudden bout of storms has proven especially harsh on both the Knights and the Winery. This season’s harvest has left our cellars less stocked than usual, and the unfavourable roads mean shipments are still days behind schedule.

You always seem to keep an eye on these things, even on places you claim to have left behind, so I thought you’d appreciate an update.

Adeline tried to downplay the situation. I doubt she intended any harm, but her reluctance to be honest only made the truth more obvious. It seems you’re not the only one who thinks I’m the kind of person who’d rather be left in the dark than deal with bad news. I’ll have to correct that notion. It’s ironic, isn’t it? That even those closest to me assume I’d rather ignore difficulties than face them. But then again, you would know that better than anyone, considering the last time you did, I might have been mourning you instead of writing this letter Ah… ahem.

On that note, I recently spoke with Jean about the caravan routes. She informed me that a good number of carriages carrying supplies were damaged in the storms, resulting in steep repair costs and the unfortunate necessity for budget cuts in several departments. While I have no doubt the Knights will persevere as… efficiently as they always do, the strain on resources cannot be pleasant. Naturally, I found myself wondering how you are faring, if the budget cuts have made things tighter for the Knights, that includes you too, doesn’t it?

That said, I did hear that the Alchemy Department somehow avoided the worst of it. Pure coincidence, I’m sure. Of course, you wouldn’t have had any hand in ensuring Albedo’s research remained untouched, would you? No doubt you had entirely selfless reasons for making certain that particular budget remained intact. I could question your motives, but for now, I’ll simply proudly acknowledge your resourcefulness.

I will, however, speak plainly about another matter: if the Knights’ cutbacks have been more severe in your area than you let on, or if you find yourself needing assistance, financial or otherwise, do not think you must go hungry. You know the Winery doors are not so tightly bolted that you could not slip in for a meal, or even a place to rest if circumstances demand it. 

I am aware such an invitation may come across as overbearing, and I certainly do not expect you to abandon your pride Yet, I do hope you’ll consider my words. I am hardly skilled at voicing concern without sounding stiff or presumptuous, but do not mistake my reservations for disinterest. 

I trust you will exercise your usual discernment in reading between the lines here. I suspect neither the roads nor the budget constraints will improve overnight but perhaps fewer late nights at the tavern would serve you well.

Until we cross paths again,

Diluc