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February 27th, Foggy
The Knights of Favonius, Albedo and I helped Grand Master Varka collect all the wolf spirit fragments. I can’t believe we were successful! Fighting the Wild Hunt was so scary, but being side by side with Albedo really helped.
February 28th, Cloudy
Albedo and I are being sent home to Mondstadt with the first wave of knights. I protested, saying people might still need my help in Nod-Krai, but the captains – and Albedo – insisted. I’m not really a knight, so I might not have to listen to them, but if Albedo is going I want to go with him. I hope no one notices I feel that way – it’s hardly befitting of a knight.
March 5th, Sunny, excellent winds
The Fontainian continent looks amazing from the ship! Such shiny waterfalls, it looks like a giant sapphire, or maybe that pale condessence crystal I saw in Nasha Town’s market! Part of me wants to fly out over it and see it all, and maybe see if I can find miss Navia, but I can’t shirk my duties on board. I’ll go some other time!
March 10th, Cloudy
We docked in Dornman Port. Everyone (who wasn’t still seasick) went out for drinks immediately, but fortunately Albedo agreed to quietly slip away and make for Mondstadt instead. We made it at nightfall. Klee was so happy! It’s so wonderful to be home. I think it’s even more wonderful after having been away. Is this why people go on adventures? This really does feel like the true reward.
March 11th, Sunny
There’s massive celebrations in the city to welcome Grand Master Varka and the returning knights. I guess I’m one of them, having tagged along for a little bit? Either way, everyone is enjoying themselves, so I suppose it’s okay if I do too. It feels like Windblume, and the celebrations overlap, but it feels even more joyful now there’s a specific reason to celebrate rather than it just being a yearly tradition.
March 12th, Fog over Cider Lake
Aunt Alice came to visit today. She told me the 14th, the last day of Windblume, the day I was born into this world last year, is also the day I hatched in Mom’s study! How amazing! Both my birthdays fall on the same day… this calls for something really special. I’m glad she told me in advance. I have to go prepare things immediately!
March 13th, Cloudy
Oh dear, I hope I’ll get everything done in time. Albedo is helping, Klee is trying to help, but I am a little nervous. It’s my first time hosting… anything. I hope everyone got their invitations! I sent them well ahead of time, but now I know I’m celebrating both my birthdays I’m hoping everything goes well even harder!
March 14th, Sunny
…
…
The city of Mondstadt was awash in flowers, colourful pennants flying in the breeze, the scent of good food and sweet drink and the sounds of merrymaking. Knights clashed in exaggerated mock battles, showing off what they’d been through on their long expedition, embellishing their already tall tales. A falconer showed off her prize bird, beaming at onlookers marveling at the creature’s acrobatic flight above the city. The drinks stands and taverns were exceptionally well-visited on this, the final day of the combined Windblume celebrations and the welcome party for the returning knights.
In contrast, there was a smaller, humbler and quieter celebration going on outside the city, on the shores of a little lake south of Springvale, within sights of the peak of Dragonspine and its whirling clouds – the only ones visibly in the blue, sunny sky.
Durin’s nearest and dearest would be arriving from all over, and so they wouldn’t all arrive together; Durin had been on the lookout, first on the ground, then in the sky, but Albedo and Klee had managed to settle his nerves and ensure him everyone would make it okay. And as if today was somehow safeguarded by the rules of a fairytale, the first visitor outside of the duo Durin shared a home with arrived just fine.
“Hat Guy!”
Kintsugi had hardly landed at the edge of the elaborate picnic spot his fledgeling had set up before said fledgeling had tackled him into a hug, leaving him scrambling for purchase and breath. “…Hi, Durin. Happy birthday.”
“You came! You found us!”
“Your invitation was very clear.” Kintsugi managed to free an arm, giving a fond smile as he gently hugged the dragon back. “Calm down, you’re acting as if we haven’t seen eachother in years.”
“It does feel like a long time,” Durin admitted. “So much happened since you left Nod-Krai.”
“I read all about it in your letters, remember?” Kintsugi gave him a once-over. “Still, it’s good to see you in once piece. It’s a good thing you came back with the first wave.” He gave a nod at Albedo, chatting with a handful of other arrivals from Mondstadt as well as keeping an eye on Klee near the waterside; the alchemist was noticeably giving them some space to catch up, but he’d have to convey his gratitude for keeping Durin safe at some later point.
“I think I received a hero’s welcome,” Durin chuckled, sitting down, inviting his friend to do the same. “I didn’t feel like I earned it at all. I mean, compared to what the other knights went through for all those years, keeping the Wild Hunt at bay so far away from home…”
Something sharp and indignated flashed through Kintsugi’s eyes at that. “Shut up,” he intoned. “You fought Rerir –”
“I just helped Albedo and miss Columbina with some alchemy!”
“– you defended Nasha Town from Dottore’s nonsense –”
“Alongside so many others! Anyway, just fighting was nothing compared to what you did! You worried me way more than I worried you… right?”
“Not the point,” Kintsugi glared. “And then after I left you took on the Wild Hunt all by yourself. If I’d known that…”
“I wasn’t alone,” Durin protested. “Albedo was with me the whole time, and so were the knights.” He fixated Kintsugi with a worried glare of his own. “…Anyway, you were in bad shape after you woke back up! It was a good thing you went back to Sumeru, I wouldn’t have wanted you to stay and exert yourself!”
Kintsugi threw up his hands in exasperation. “There is no helping you. I thought that Grand Master had taught you to take a compliment by now.”
“…Wait, that’s what you were doing? I thought you were chewing me out for being reckless…”
“…Maybe a bit of both.” Kintsugi gave a sigh, his eyes going softer. “Either way, let’s not dwell on that. This day is all yours.”
“It’s not!” Durin protested again. “It’s a day for me to do things for my friends. Oh, I’m being a terrible host. Let me show you around, I’ve made food, and gotten all sorts of sweet drinks – and also tea – and there’s games, and…”
Kintsugi gave another fond sigh, but didn’t attempt to stop the dragon this time, merely letting himself be dragged along – and despite it all, quietly marveling at what his fledgeling had managed to set up, even if he might’ve had help from his Mondstadtian family. “Did you get gifts yet?”
“Albedo gave his back at home,” Durin beamed. “Such a pretty painting, of the four of us! Me, him, Klee, and you! He said he incorporated what he learned from mr. Flins back in Nod-Krai, refining his art, and it was his honour to present his first piece in the improved style – it’s so colourful, I really love having it in my room –”
“…Hmm.” Kintsugi fixated Albedo back by the waterside. How dare the alchemist, portraying him in some… static, domestic family portrait, adding him to a household he wasn’t even really part of. Pinning him to some canvas.
Then again, all those portrayed in this particular artwork would be around for a long time. It would – presumably, hopefully – remain a happy picture for a long time.
More people kept filtering in. Durin took note, perking up by his side. “So sorry, I have to go welcome them! I’ll see you again soon!”
“Have fun,” the puppet replied, smiling small and subtle.
He found himself wandering over to Albedo as the dragon greeted his guests – getting to be a considerable amount of people. Not that he hadn’t expected everyone not to love Durin the moment they met him, of course. “Hey.”
“Hello, mr. Hat Guy. I’m glad you could make it.” The alchemist gave a fond smile at the sight of his younger brother’s happiness as well. “Although, of course, I didn’t think you’d stay away for even a moment.”
“Good.”
“The occasion looks markedly better than last year,” Albedo remarked. “A much improved celebration. This is what he deserves.”
“Compared to having cake in the dark on the floor?” Kintsugi chuckled. “Obviously. Still, last year wasn’t bad. This one just… has more people attending.” He wasn’t sure any future birthday would ever come close to the emotional weight of Durin’s first in this world.
“Mm,” Albedo quietly agreed. “That, and the venue is much more fitting. Rather than my dusty office, my brother is much more in his element in the open air… and between Mondstadt and Dragonspine, no less. He chose decisively, and he chose well.” The alchemist gazed up at the mountaintop and its swirling, icy clouds. “He’s growing into himself excellently.”
“Thanks for watching over him when he insisted on being a reckless, heroic idiot after I left.”
“Of course.”
“Albedo, Albedo!” A little red blur came racing in. “We’re gonna bob for apples!”
Albedo chuckled, smiling down at his little sister as she bounced from one foot to the other in the grass. “That’s nice, Klee.”
“Are you coming too?”
“In a bit, perhaps.”
“Can I go??”
“Of course.”
Kintsugi beheld it, quietly grateful to have another solitude-loving introvert as what had now amounted to his fledgeling’s fellow co-parent. Then, he found he couldn’t hold his tongue. “Hey Klee, you know apples taste even sweeter when they’re roasted?”
The girl gasped, eyes going wide and starry. “Really?!”
“One way to find out, right?”
“Yes!! Oh, I’m gonna tell everyone!” And off she raced, leaving Albedo to turn to him in consternation. “What did you just do?”
“Added even more sweetness to your life.”
“Hmm. Give me some time to think of a way to return the favour.”
“We have all the time in the world,” Kintsugi smirked, finding he genuinely enjoyed not only this sunny day and the breeze in his hair, but also the gradually settling dynamic he’d found here in Mondstadt, whatever it could be deemed. Of course, with his penchant for granting wishes, Durin’s influence had led him somewhere more than bearable.
Someone had started playing a violin, sweet and jaunty, and other musicians were quick to join; the party’s various attending bards quickly beginning a contest of improvisation of some sort. “Nothing less than expected of the city of poetry and song,” Kintsugi observed.
“Durin quickly endeared himself to many patrons and bards attending the Cat’s Tail and Angel’s Share,” Albedo remarked. “Ever since he became a regular at both, with his own seat and the bartenders memorizing his preferences.”
“Still no alcohol?”
“No,” Albedo smiled. “I’m not sure he’ll ever develop a taste for it. His body won’t grow, so his tastes might not shift to match, either.”
“Good,” Kintsugi nodded. “It’s overrated, and it might not even have any of the fun effects it has on mortals.” He paused. “I’m… glad he’s still found his place here without being a fan, though.”
Albedo fondly watched his brother beginning a whirling dance arm in arm with one of said patrons he’d endeared himself to, wings fluttering in the open air. “How could he not? It might be surprising, with us as his guardians, but I suppose he was always more Anya’s son, in truth. It’s all because of his own character.”
Kintsugi chuckled. “Oh, I know that.”
“Am I late? Forgive me, I meant to arrive earlier, but Mondstadt is so wonderfully distracting!” A young lady had arrived at the lake, ornately dressed in flowing skirts, adorned with copious amounts of sapphire jewelry, and shaded by a wide-brimmed hat. She appeared out of place, but still sure-footed, easily making herself heard and taking charge of the situation with an air of effortless ease. “Hello, all you fine people! Durin, is that you?”
“Miss Navia!” The dragon had rushed in before she’d finished speaking, wings trailing after him in his hurry. He clasped her hands, white gloves in black lace. “You made it! I’m so happy to see you!”
“The feeling is mutual, little dragon,” the Fontainian noblewoman laughed. “Though I really can’t see you that way anymore, you’ve grown so much! I’m still a little taller, but it’s a near thing!”
Durin chuckled. “Did you find us okay? I didn’t know when you’d all be arriving, so I just left directions by the book in Albedo’s office…”
“Perfectly, Durin,” Navia smiled. “Don’t worry about a thing, you provided a marvelous tour as well as a very convenient way of arriving here by book.” She held him at arm’s length, marveling before reeling him in for a heartfelt hug. “Look at you… you look magnificent! That alchemist must be very talented, but don’t undersell yourself, you carry your new form with pride and grace!”
Durin chuckled into her shoulder, flushing brightly. “Stop it…”
“Oh, doubting my words, eh?” she playfully teased him as she drew back. “The words of a King, no less?”
“No… it’s not that… oh, you know what I mean…”
“And I know I’ve seen a young dragon blossom from darkness into light, and now even into our world, into a most dapper young man,” she grinned. “You’re doing excellently. Happy birthday, Durin.”
“Thank you so much,” he beamed.
“Oh, before I forget!” The young woman produced a wrapped gift, chuckling at the wonder in Durin’s eyes, and the speed with which he unwrapped it. “I commissioned it specifically for you.”
The dragon let out a little gasp as he beheld the gilded music box in his hands, inlaid with pale, shimmering condessence crystal, opening to a little miniature of Constellation Metropole as a little figure of a dragon circled its dangling stars, playing a familiar, delicate melody. “That’s the music of the city…!”
“I could never get it out of my head,” Navia smiled. “You like it?”
“I love it!” He hugged her again, the best he could while securely holding the music box. “It’s even better than a storybook illustration! I think condessence is so beautiful, and now I even have a condessence me! Thank you, thank you!”
“Durin! There you are!”
The young dragon barely had the chance to regain his balance as someone new launched themself his way; a box-shaped creature with two tails, sprinting along on nimble feline feet. Halfway through the leap, it shifted into the shape of a nimble girl, albeit still bearing those tails. “It is you, right? Though there’s really no mistaking you! You feel just the same, regardless of shape!”
“Kirara,” the dragon beamed, clutching his gift close. “Welcome to the party! I’m so glad you could make it!”
“It’s good to see you,” she beamed back, her catlike eyes closing all the way in a wide, fangy smile. “Happy birthday! Sorry for not checking up on you earlier – I have been around here before, but I didn’t know where you lived!”
“That’s okay! I’ve been all over the place too. I’m not always at home – I help people out and do commissions all over town, or I’m in the library, and really I’ve just gotten back from Nod-Krai…” The dragon seemed to catch himself. “Oh, but I’m rambling! How have you been?” By his side, Navia chuckled at the rapid-fire, high-energy barrage, dragon and nekomata seemingly only fueling one another’s energy.
Kirara looked around, starry-eyed at the festivities before even appearing able to answer. “Oh, same old, same old! Traveling all over, meeting all sorts of people… most of them not nearly as fun as our adventures that summer! I actually popped over to the Metropole on my way through Simulanka, checking up on Albizzi, Boborano and Cappet! They’re still debating about whether or not to visit this world someday. Cappet is curious, but the other two seem worried about seeing the fairytale from the outside will change their view of their own world, and… I also think they’re just lazy.” She stretched, smirking. “I get that, but don’t they ever get antsy staying in one place?”
“I know exactly what you mean,” Durin nodded at once. “Simulanka is wonderful! But knowing this whole world was out there, I couldn’t stay put either. And change isn’t always a bad thing!”
“Certainly not for you,” Kirara grinned. “You look awesome. You’re very good at being human, and I should know.” Before Durin could find his words, she leaned in, lowering her voice. “I… didn’t bring much of a gift. I know I ferry things all over Teyvat all the time, but thinking of gifts for my own friends is always so hard!”
“That’s okay! Today is more about me doing something for you, not the other way around!”
“I still want to do something, though. You told me cats seem to dislike you in this world? I might be able to help with that! Just give me a few minutes with them, I’ll tell them all about what a sweetheart you really are!”
“You’d do that?” Durin’s eyes had grown wide. “Oh, that’d mean so much! That’s an amazing gift, Kirara!”
The nekomata grinned wider. “It’s a promise, then.”
A pair of hands appeared over Durin’s head, bearing a crown of pale purple flowers, startling the dragon as it descended onto his hair. “Happy birthday, Durin! Oh, I’m so sorry, these padisarahs barely stand out against your hair…” A giggle. “I didn’t know what colour your hair is now! You look just like a padisarah yourself, it’s wonderful!”
The dragon whirled around, grinning wide. “Nilou! It’s you!”
She hugged him, pulling him into a twirl, seemingly unable to keep her feet still with the bards still playing nearby. “You look great! I’m so proud of how far you’ve come!”
“Stop, all your praise is going to make me faint,” Durin grinned, briefly closing his eyes as he allowed Nilou to keep leading him in her silly dance. “I can’t believe you’re all here, and I’m actually dancing with the Forest Fairy… getting to learn the secrets of cats from the Nekomata-in-Boots… being gifted Fontainian treasures by the King herself…”
“Of course we all came,” Navia chuckled. “It’s wonderful to have the Simulanka gang back together.” Her grin widened. “You know, with those flowers, and your horns… you kind of remind me of a rocky lawachurl the Metropole’s troops found in the city that summer. It wore garlands as well, around its horns even! We always suspected it was Hat Guy playing a trick after we found out he helped defend the city unseen, but we could never prove it… you should ask him about it, Durin.”
Durin laughed at that. “I could, but he’d never tell me anyway.”
“I would not,” Kintsugi agreed, finally sauntering in. Nilou brightened at once. “Now we have the Simulanka gang back together,” she beamed.
As if out of nowhere, Klee came racing in as well, darting around their little circle with her arms spread wide, marveling at them all. “Pretty ladies,” she gaped, her eyes going starry. “Woww, your dress is so shiny! And your tails are so amazing! And your hair looks like fire! Klee loves it! You’re like a much more fun mr. Diluc!”
“Thank you, Klee,” Nilou chuckled, attempting to follow the child with her eyes. “I don’t know this mr. Diluc, but be nice to him, alright?”
“Alright!” Klee had halted, blinking up at the dancer, at her hands still linked with Durin’s. “Is it time to dance? Can Klee join?”
“Everyone can join,” Nilou nodded. “It’s hard to keep still – Mondstadt’s music really is infectious…”
“Then what are we waiting for,” Kirara grinned. “We’re here to have fun!” Without further ado, she dragged them all closer to the bards, but not before Kintsugi gracefully hovered backwards, out of the way, and into the branches of a nearby tree. “I don’t dance.”
Nilou sent him a look of fond exasperation, knowing differently, but didn’t press him, instead laughing as Navia readily accepted Kirara’s dance – and letting out a sound of surprise as Durin spread his wings, pulling her along instead.
Kintsugi rested his chin in his hand, more than content to watch. Below him, another sharing that opinion wandered in at last.
Albedo said nothing, instead glancing between the dancers and the sketch he was working on, quick and sure strokes of his pencil flying across the paper. Kintsugi gave a small huff. “A convenient excuse not to dance either.”
“We all do what we’re good at,” the alchemist smiled quietly, but the puppet could sense the subtle jest in his voice – Albedo knew he was more than any ‘purpose’, only called upon to do ‘what he was good at’. Still, he had to admit the homunculus’ talent at his preferred pursuits. “Looks pretty good already.”
“Thank you very much.” A brief pause. “I took the liberty to render your image, as well as my own, Klee’s and Durin’s in an oil painting recently, as a gift for my brother’s birthday. I neglected to tell you, but I hope you don’t mind.”
“He told me. I don’t. If the kid wants my face on his wall, that’s his prerogative. I’m sure you portrayed me in a believable way – you don’t have the imagination for lying.” He couldn’t imagine Albedo painting him with some goofy grin, or other uncharacteristic expression – as an artist, he was always most truthful.
“I wouldn’t dare, mr. Hat Guy,” Albedo chuckled, still sketching away.
After everyone had danced themselves into a stupor, the party began winding down a little; people settled in for food and drinks, sampling the fruity, sweet and meaty dishes Durin had prepared, as well as the alcohol-free cider and other juices. Some sprawled out in the grass or on picnic blankets, others went for a swim in the lake; it was the beginning of spring, but despite the location at the foot of Dragonspine, it almost felt like summer already, as if even the mountain’s frigid influence had grown less severe.
Surrounded by his friends, Durin ended up drawing himself up and timidly raising his voice, growing in confidence with every word. “Everyone… thank you so much for coming. Thank you for your wonderful gifts, and… for accepting me into Mondstadt the way you have. And for welcoming me back after my travels to Nod-Krai, too!” His eyes glimmered, bright as jewels. “I promise to always do my best for the city, and always keep my Abyssal powers in check, as I’ve fully learned how to do that now…”
“We don’t care about that,” someone called out, to a chorus of agreement. “Abyssal or not, you’re more than welcome! You’re one of us now.”
“Yeah! When are you being knighted?”
“O-oh!” Durin drew his hands and wings to himself, flustered. “Um… I don’t know! Maybe never? But I’m always willing to help out!”
Klee took his hand, looking up at him. “You’d be such a cool knight though, big brother! You could be the Starfire Knight to my Spark Knight!”
“Speaking of stars,” Albedo observed, looking at something beyond Durin.
Navia perked up. “Okay, now we’re truly fully complete,” she grinned.
“Hey, everyone,” Paimon greeted, as the Traveler gave a somewhat sheepish wave beside her. “Are we late? I think we’re late. Is there still some tasty food left?”
“Paimon.”
“What? I know we brought our own, but…”
Durin had rushed in to greet them both. “Welcome,” he beamed, clearly wanting to clasp the Traveler’s hands, but unable to because they were already full, bearing a rather large box. “You got my letter! I didn’t know where to send it, but…”
“We visit every Adventurer’s Guild regularly,” the Traveler smiled. “Don’t worry.” He set the box down on a nearby table. “I hope you still have room for some more cake.”
“Always,” Durin grinned, eagerly waiting to see what was inside. “Your cooking is so good. You have to teach me some more sometime!”
“We will,” Paimon nodded. “We tried to put in everything you like! We hope it’s good!”
The Traveler unveiled the contents of the box, and Durin’s eager grin went incredulous, his eyes widening. “Wow…!”
The cake was shaped like his former, smaller self, pudgy and purple with dark chocolate horns, decorated with yellow and red berries, bearing one singular candle. “That’s so cool! How did you…”
“We picked up some tricks on our travels,” the Traveler grinned. “This is marzipan, a Fontainian adaptation of a Sumeran candy, and the Natlanese are experts on chocolate.”
“…It’d feel weird cutting into it, though… it’s so pretty, and… also cute… wait, is that vain of me to say…?”
“We can keep it around for a little bit, and I can cut it up without you looking,” the Traveler smiled. “Just tell us when!”
“N-no, I can’t keep people waiting for that long,” Durin decided, seeing others eyeing the cake as well, be it with admiration, curiosity or appetite. “You can… you can do it.”
The Traveler softened. “As brave as the first time you gave up this form. I should’ve expected nothing less of you.”
Durin sputtered out a laugh. “Don’t say that! This is nothing like that!” He paused. “…Maybe a little bit. I did like that form a lot, too.” His eyes glinted, just a little mischievous. “But without hands, that delicious cake would be a lot harder to eat.”
“Don’t say it’s delicious before you try it,” the Traveler warned, grinning as well. “Alright. In that case, turn around so I can get to work…”
As the cake was divided and people dispersed to chat, eat and laze around, Durin finally found the time to return to Albedo and Kintsugi. “I’m so sorry, today is just so much,” the dragon grinned, bashful and a little tired, yet visibly overjoyed. “Are you having fun as well?”
“Don’t worry about us, Durin,” Albedo warmly reassured him. “Mr. Hat Guy and I are entertaining ourselves excellently.”
“…Hmph. Speak for yourself.” But Kintsugi knew his expression and voice were enough to reassure his fledgeling as well. “It’s fine. It’s fun to see all of them in one place again.” He nodded at the Traveler and Paimon, Nilou, Kirara and Navia, animatedly catching up, Kirara’s tails swishing in excitement as Paimon tumbled through the air.
“And… it’s good to have a celebration today. There’s a lot to celebrate.” Durin being here at all. How brave he’d been in Nod-Krai, the way he’d secured his fate in this world, the way he’d fought for Boreas, and the way he’d managed to safely return with the expedition… yes, there was a lot to be thankful for and to celebrate, indeed. “…Also, I was gonna come to you. I was just waiting for all this chatter to die down a little. I can hardly hear myself think.”
“I know that,” Durin nodded, smiling small and fond. “But I’ll always come find you first if I can.”
“You… ugh…”
Albedo stepped in, smirking just a little at the way Kintsugi tugged down his hat and hid his face, sharply turning away. “I find it intriguing how the day you were born into this world is the very same day you hatched in your mother’s study. Do you really suppose Anya planned it all out that way so you’d only have one birthday and wouldn’t have to choose?”
“It’s a little creepy,” Kintsugi remarked flatly. “Her essentially writing out everything around you, up until the point you picked up the pen yourself – even our parts in it.” He never appreciated having his strings pulled – even if he had to admit it hadn’t been so bad when Anya Andersdotter had been the one doing it, and he fully agreed with her envisioned outcomes.
“I think it was a lovely thing to do,” Durin quietly replied, his smile going softer than ever before as he gazed down at his gloved hands, his mother’s loving gift. “Being so thoughtful about my birthday, gifting me this celebration. If… if people celebrate it with parties, I suppose ‘being born’ must be something happy, right? If my mother took such care with the day my birth is remembered…”
Albedo and Kintsugi both grew quiet at that, exchanging a glance, each thinking their own about this particular matter.
Durin blinked, attempting to figure out what they were thinking. “…I know none of us were really ‘born’ in the way humans are, and… maybe ‘being born’ means different things to different people…” He knew both his guardians’ pasts were not entirely bright and happy as fairytales, just as his own wasn’t entirely – even if he didn’t know all the details. “…but I’m glad we were all born in our own ways, anyway. I’m glad you were both born, and you’re glad I was born, right?”
“Right,” Kintsugi murmured, meeting his fledgeling’s eyes, mustering up a smile. Albedo nodded as well, even before Kintsugi could elbow him in the ribs.
“Then… if today is a happy day for me, I’d like to share that happiness with you!”
“You already have, Durin,” Albedo smiled. “Don’t worry about us. Go have fun with your other friends, alright?”
“Alright,” the dragon nodded, although still keeping an eye on them both.
As he left, Albedo and Kintsugi lingered, ever at the edge of things.
Albedo spoke first. “I didn’t mean to bring down the mood.”
Kintsugi scoffed. “Well, we both did.”
“I suppose the difference in our ‘births’ lies in the intentions of our mothers, don’t you think? Anya created him almost purely out of love. Our mothers, or should I say ‘creators’…”
“…Hm. Different purposes altogether.” Kintsugi sighed. “Not that any of that matters now. I thought we went over this already.”
“It’s just still a marvel to me,” Albedo thoughtfully remarked. “Anya also had a set purpose for him, she predetermined so much of his fate ahead of time… yet in the right hands, even predetermination can be a happy thing.”
“She predetermined his life purely in order to eventually set him free,” Kintsugi argued. “That’s love, I suppose. Giving up everything for someone else’s happiness.” He cleared his throat. “Not that I’d know.”
“Of course.”
“Of course.”
Albedo gave a little chuckle. “He wants to use this day to share his happiness because he knows how much we love him, too.”
“He’s happy about being born,” Kintsugi remarked, something like wonder tinting his voice. “After the way he felt when I first met him…”
“He’s happy about being alive,” Albedo smiled. “Both of him. I think we did alright.”
Kintsugi folded his arms, looking out at the young dragon having fun with his friends. “I think we did too.”
When Durin next found the puppet, people had gradually begun to leave the party, leaving the lakeside calmer and quieter, and Kintsugi more at ease. Durin spread his wings, lifting himself up to the broad branch where Kintsugi had taken his seat in one go. “You’re still here,” the dragon beamed.
“So I am. I still have something for you, and I wasn’t gonna give it with so many prying eyes around.”
“You do?” Durin marveled. “You shouldn’t have!”
“I should have. I even got you two things, as it turns out I missed your last hatching day due to not knowing when it was on Teyvat’s calendar.” The puppet produced a small box in blue wrapping. “Go on.”
Durin eagerly but carefully unwrapped it, opening it to unveil a little face looking back at him – embroidered little scarlet-and-golden eyes in a heart-shaped little face, dark horns and lighter wings rising and spreading from the small body. The dragon took it out, delighting in how cute and soft it was. “You made me another plushie…”
“It’s you,” Kintsugi managed to utter. “I didn’t make you yet. At least… this is what you are to me. A goofy little flying… heart.” That was as far as he could express what he really wanted to say – the way the dragon had made him feel as if he had a heart after all, almost from the moment they’d first met, causing something warm and alive to bloom in his empty chest despite it all.
There was no need to try and say all that. Durin understood, as he always did. Still clutching the plushie, the dragon leaned in to hug him in reply. Kintsugi reciprocated with one arm, nudging his head against Durin’s horns, making the dragon smile even wider. “There’s another, go on.” The sooner he had this over with…
Durin looked back into the box, puzzled for a moment, but then prying out the second gift – a nondescript little book with a dark cover, perfectly fitting the box. There was nothing on it, but as the dragon opened it, his eyes went wide. “K-Kintsugi…”
“…Kusanali told me people appreciate openness. So, there you have it; my thoughts, put to paper.” The puppet glanced at the page the dragon had opened on, recognizing the haiku he’d composed in his head during the time they’d spent together in Sumeru just after Durin had left Simulanka.
Small airborne treasure
Eyes of ruby, heart of gold
Stay safe in my hands.
“I’ve had… plenty of thoughts while following you and your journey. I think you’ve picked up on plenty of them already, but…”
“I love it,” Durin breathed. “Thank you so much. I’ll keep this close – I’ll keep it safe. Thank you for trusting me like this. I know how rare it is for you to…”
“Not as rare as it used to be,” Kintsugi murmured, ruffling his fledgeling’s hair. “But that’s also in no small part thanks to you.” He smiled. “I should be thanking you. Thank you for helping me have a heart.”
“I think that’s all you,” Durin managed, but he was grinning so wide his cheeks must hurt, leaning into him like a happy cat might. “Thank you for showing me your heart.”
“Yes, yes. Not like I have much of a choice, with you always insisting on looking in the first place.” But Kintsugi didn’t push Durin off, content to let him stay like this as long as he wanted. It was the boy’s birthday, after all.
Something rustled in the branches next to them. A moment later, a tiny voice rang out. “Durin? Hi!”
The dragon looked up, blinking in confusion. “What…? I know that voice…”
A tiny squirrel emerged, clambering up his arm and onto his shoulder, rubbing its little snout. “Hello! It’s me, Alfine! I finally made it to Teyvat!”
Durin’s eyes were huge, fixed on the squirrel, then darting around. “What… how’d you get here?! Did you come through the book? But it’s all the way in Mondstadt, I had to leave directions for the others to find me here… you have to be careful, this world can be really dangerous!”
“Now you know how I felt,” Kintsugi remarked by his side.
“We found your directions too! Don’t worry, princess Cimest helped me! It turns out not all of us are squirrels in this world,” Alfine laughed, gesturing up with a tiny paw. A look up past the tree’s canopy revealed a reddish bird of prey in the skies overhead, circling vigilantly. Durin marveled. “Of course… of course she’d remain majestic…”
“I’m sorry if I worried you. I just really wanted to come visit! I think I understand why you chose to live in this world. It’s really wonderful.”
Durin gave a soft, helpless smile at his very first friend. “It is, isn’t it? I’m so glad I get to share it with you like this.”
“Is it true today’s the day you hatched?”
“It is.”
“Happy birthday, Durin.” The little squirrel nuzzled the side of his face, making Durin grin in such a heartbreakingly fragile way Kintsugi once again felt that phantom heart manifesting in his chest. Even before Kirara teaching him the secrets of cats, here was a small animal who’d never feared Durin, and never ever would.
Then princess Cimest gave a warning screech, high overhead, and Alfine perked her ears even as Durin intently cocked his head as well. “What’s she saying?”
“A warning,” Alfine replied, alert at once. “A giant beast draws near to us! Big and blue and winged…”
Durin’s eyes widened. “Oh! Oh, but he’s a friend too! She doesn’t have to worry – he’s a dragon just like me!” He spread his wings, dropping down from the branch, breaking his fall as Alfine clung to him. He offered her his hands, holding her more securely. “You want to go meet him with me?”
The squirrel’s beady eyes glinted adventurously. “Yes! Meeting giant dragons always makes for a good story!”
Durin looked up at Kintsugi just once. “Is it okay if I go to him, Hat Guy?”
“Do what you want,” the puppet smirked. “It’s your life.”
Durin beamed up at him, grateful and overjoyed. Then he spread his great gleaming wings, pushed off in a flurry of leaves, and was gone – only to rise over the treetops a moment later in a graceful arc, on his way to let his first and most recent friends get acquainted – or perhaps, both his first friends, in a way.
It’s your life. And what a life it was, full of twists and turns, fairies and dragons, heartless puppets and clay alchemists. A life, ultimately, that was being lived in the happiest way possible. So brightly and happily it was showing him what could be possible, after having forgotten for so long.
Kintsugi felt privileged to be a part of it and to witness it at all, and he found himself beyond eager to see what would come next – facing his fledgeling’s future with anticipation now, and not one bit of lingering dread. After all, Durin’s stars shone too brightly to let him be fearful of the night any longer.