Chapter Text
The evening sky in northern Mondstadt was painted a pale orange, as if the sun itself had grown weary of watching the world. The wind carried with it the scent of damp earth, laced with a thin trace of smoke—a sign that something nearby was burning.
Amid the tall grass, Kaeya stood frozen. His eyes fixed on the Hilichurl camp ahead, where a small fire flickered weakly at the center of shabby tents. It should have been a familiar sight. Yet this time, something made his steps falter.
A small Hilichurl sat near the flames, clutching tightly a crude wooden doll. Fragile, hastily carved perhaps, but clearly cherished—its only “home” held within tiny hands. The Hilichurl murmured softly, broken words that sounded eerily like the whimper of a vulnerable human child.
Kaeya’s grip on his sword tightened. His chest constricted, his thoughts dragged back to a past he tried not to recall. To a time when he, too, was just a child abandoned in a foreign land—forced to be strong when all he wanted was to hold onto something, anything, that might give him a sense of safety.
He almost stepped back. Almost turned away. But when the adult Hilichurls poured out of the tents with weapons raised, instinct overtook hesitation.
The fight was brief. Swift movements—slashes, feints, strikes. In moments, the camp fell silent, reduced to smoldering wood, fading flames, and lifeless bodies scattered across the dirt. The wooden doll slipped from small hands, tumbling into the fire, half-burned before it could ever be saved.
Kaeya stood amidst the dying blaze, his cloak billowing, his sword dripping dark. His gaze was distant, heavy. Not pride in victory, but a quiet sorrow that refused to leave.
From afar, a pair of eyes watched. Diluc.
He had just returned from a patrol on his way to Dawn Winery when his former brother’s figure came into view.
Diluc lingered at the edge of a ridge, half-hidden behind a pine tree. He observed Kaeya’s movements—so efficient, far too efficient for merely slaying monsters. But it wasn’t the way Kaeya fought that made him frown. It was what came after: Kaeya did not move on.
He only stood there. Motionless.
Diluc exhaled slowly, lowered his gaze, then turned away. “Not my business,” he muttered. His boots rustled softly through the grass, as though eager to erase the sight.
Yet even as distance grew, the image of Kaeya—alone, unmoving in the midst of the burning camp—clung to his mind. A stain not so easily washed away.