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Kaeya is hope.
He's been told this for as long as he's been breathing. The last heir of the Alberich clan, the last hope of Khaenri'ah. One day his sacrifices will usher in a new era of light for his despondent people.
A light of duty was ignited in him. Though it was not the warmth he craved, it was plenty enough to light his way through the darkness. Kaeya would help save his people, he would be their beacon in the sea of despair.
Kaeya is a weapon.
He has known this since before he can even remember. Chains wrapped around his limbs and neck, pulling and straining until blood trickles down his skin. Traning, history, pain. He would never truly feel warmth until that day in the rain.
How ironic for a cold and wet night to burn in his mind like a hearth. Fuel steadily added as the years went by, roaring and bright, much unlike the little match-flame of years before.
Kaeya is cursed.
Or at least that's the only explanation that makes sense.
He'll go days, weeks even, with calm. The days are long and happy and pass in a blink like the summer. Until he wakes up retching and pained. Until he locks himself in his closet, like one would lock away a werewolf on the full moon. The pain and rage boil up and over within him until he can barely move. And then the second he can again it's time to clean. He cannot have his new family find this mess after all.
He is cursed. And it is a secret.
And now Kaeya stands in front of his brother, with secrets spilling from his lips to stain the ground between them like blood. His brother who has yet to fully scrub the blood of their father off of his face. In this moment blood connects them, just as much as it pulls them apart.
"I am not the brother you think I am" Kaeya says. He stands just outside the door of their home, Diluc at the threshold. "I am a liar."
Diluc tilts his head in that owlish way that he always does. "What do you mean?" His eyes are red and heavy with exhaustion. But Kaeya cannot wait anymore. Not after the way he felt earlier that day.
"I was sent to Mondstadt as a spy for the abyss," Kaeya almost hangs his head in shame, but instead stands tall. His duty, his purpose, he should not feel shame for the truth.
Diluc's brows furrow, as if trying to make sure he'd heard the words correctly "you...?"
"I've been funneling information to them since I was young, and my very body is a weapon they plan to use." He states plainly, cutting Diluc off. A droplet of water strikes his nose as he speaks.
Kaeya was never one to be plain with someone. His words, ever since the beginnings of his teenage years, were always wrapped in layers of sarcasm or flattery. But now there is nothing left to cut through.
"When you killed our father I was...fascinated." He says finally as the rain begins to fall around him. Diluc's eyes seem to light up even in the darkness with that flame he knows all too well. However now that seed of rage has been planted by Kayea himself. "For him to fall to such a dangerous power, to sumbit to it-"
"Stop talking." Diluc says, his cold tone burning Kaeya. Diluc moves his hands and quickly a claymore appears in his grasp, the blessing of his vision summoning the tool in a blink.
Kaeya's eyes widen at the sight, his feet moving to back up instincually. Kaeya grasps the sword attached to his hip and draws it as Diluc walks towards him. The rain plasters Diluc's hair to his head like rivulets of blood.
He hardly gets a moment to jump back before firey steel is swung in his direction.
Rage burns in his brother's eyes, rage more powerful than the sun. Kaeya knows that Diluc feels his emotions harder than most. That he is often blinded by them. As he raises his blade to parry a blow he wonders if Diluc even sees Kaeya as his brother right now.
His arms strain to push back the blow, breaths coming quickly by the time he's fully deflected it. This is not the level of strength he's used to sparring against. As he realizes this, Kaeya begins to wonder just how far Diluc will go in his anger.
Neither manage to land blows on one another for quite some time. He can't help but be reminded, as rain and dark soaks them, of being eight. New training swords tossed aside in favor of wrestling on the ground.
As sparks fly from their blades he remembers being nine, visiting Inazuma for the first time. They had been brought to a festival, their father there to supply the drinks, and had watched fireworks light up the sky for the very first time.
As tears begin to well in his eyes and fire clashing with his blade brings it to a burning hot, Kaeya remembers whe Diluc had first got his vision. When he'd accidentally burned Kaeya's hands before he'd been given gloves to keep his power in check. How Kaeya had cried and Diluc had apologized.
What happens now, Kaeya wonders as he dodges out of the way of a sweeping blow. Where will he go?
His mind, far away from him and in the past, does not catch up with him quick enough. No, he only manages to spin back around to face his brother in the moments after the release of a great pheonix.
'Ah,' he thinks, 'he is going to kill me.'
He drops his sword and crosses his arms over himself, as if it will do anything to prevent or numb the coming pain. His eyes shut tightly as acceptance filters through him.
He deserves this. He deserves to die here.
But the fire never comes.
He hears a hissing sound, like that of fire meeting ice. And then he feels it. A burning horrible thing, like his body rejecting his own blood.
Kaeya collapses to the ground, heaving onto the wet grass as his body screams around him. Between his hands that grip into the soil he sees a vision. Cryo. A gift from the gods.
And as he looks up he sees Diluc. Sees his now former brother's eyes wide in horror. He watches the man he once called brother turn and run.
Kaeya grasps the vision tightly, a feeling of hate blossoming within him. For the gods would only ever dare bless one like him with a portion of their power to protect one of their true chosen. To spare Diluc the pain of killing him with his own hands.
Kaeya stumbles to his feet and begins to walk. Though he is not headed to the city.
As the pain and rage fester inside his body he walks. As he pulls away his cape, casting it to the ground to reveal a purplish red spike on the back of his neck, he walks. As his curse grows, as he is reminded of his purpose as a weapon, he walks.
After some time, the rain grows colder and colder until eventually it becomes a soft yet thick snow. He stumbles and catches his weight on the enormous rib-bone of the dragon that gave this mountain its name. He walks further until he is descending into the earth, until he can collapse infront of the warmth of the heart that cursed him to begin with.
Maybe one day this pain will turn him into what he is meant to be. And maybe when he is sent to destroy his home he will be struck down just like how this dragon who fathered his power was.
Just like how he deserves.