Work Text:
The blinding light enveloped him, its rays constricting around his limbs, suffocating him from their brightness. He was floating and falling all at once into an abyss that drowned his voice in silence. Every call to his body was ignored, his limbs far too heavy to move.
The silence was stifling, and he wished that he could hear his scream.
He begged to move, to wake up—to simply see his father.
At least it was warm, and he could feel his heart beat.
His eyes were heavy, opening into a squint, the world blurry. Candlelight danced over him, and a shadowed hand passed through its light. Wherever he was, he wasn’t alone. He tilted his head to the side, his head throbbing, and standing beside him was a woman dressed in riches of gold, wearing emerald green that sparkled in her eyes.
He swallowed, trying to moisten his parched throat; his voice caught as he tried to speak.
“Drink.” A glass of water was offered to him from the woman so beautiful that she could fool him for an angel.
Perhaps he had died.
Was it selfish that he wished it was his father offering the glass instead?
He blinked slowly, then curled his index finger.
It moved.
Next, his toes, which willfully followed his whim.
His heart beat stronger, and his mind strained to push his body; with success, he rose to a seated position. Then, he accepted the glass, the cold liquid rejuvenating him and allowing some semblance of clarity to return. Once it did, he noticed the bandages wrapped around his hands, constricting him.
He was alive?
His gaze flicked up, examining the woman standing over him. “Who?”
The woman gave a smile and then spoke. “I’m Nefer. The owner of the Curatorium of Secrets”—she offered her hand, but when it wasn’t taken, she let it fall to her side along with her smile—“and your savior.”
He wasn’t dead. That thought alone made several questions race through the fog in his head.
How did he get here? How did he live?
What did he drink?
No, he was alive, bandaged, and cared for. Why? He didn’t know, but he could piece it together later. It was important to proceed with caution and respect.
“Thank you,” Diluc said, placing the empty glass on the table beside him. “I’m—”
“Diluc Ragnvindr.”
Diluc’s mouth hung open, his eyebrows furrowed.
She continued while toying with a chess piece between her fingers. “Heir to the Dawn Winery, the Knights of Favonius’ former cavalry captain, enemy to Eroch and the Fatui, and bearer of your father’s delusion.”
“That’s confidential.”
“Perhaps for some people.” Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized the chess piece in her hand. “However, we aren’t some people.”
The throbbing in his head returned, and his eyes scrunched as he massaged his temple with his left hand. Through the pain, he tried to focus on when she spoke, each word a key to where he was and if she would be his next target.
“I’ve been watching you since your journey started,” she said. “Your first year when you traveled across the seven nations and discovered the truth to the delusion's origins, and your travels through Snezhnaya during your second year, leaving a trail of blood and bodies in your fiery wake.”
“Do you plan to turn me in?”
She scoffed. “Mora is valuable, but you are far more valuable than that. It’s hard to find people like you, those that dare to draw steel instead of hiding behind a hollow bravado.”
The door creaked open and a soft mewl followed. A black cat with eyes as gold as the jewels it adorned stepped in, its tail flicking behind. Nefer’s heels clacked on the tile as she bent down to pick up the cat.
“Why did you save me?”
“I approve of your methods,” she replied. “I know we could be of use to each other.”
“I’ll be fine on my own.”
“Just as fine as your close encounter with death?” She toyed with her words like she did the chess piece in her hands, the cat gently batting its paws at it.
Diluc clenched his jaw. It was a miscalculation he would not make again.
“You’re alive now,” she said, watching him closely, “with your whole life ahead of you. Be honest with yourself. What do you think you can accomplish on your own?”
“Punishing evil and avenging my father.”
“Even after he hid the delusion from you?”
Diluc’s breath stilled. At first he was upset, but his father held his faith close. There must have been a deeper reason why he never mentioned it. “Yes.”
“Is that so…” Nefer’s gaze hardened. With a twist of her wrist and a flick of her fingers, the chess piece disappeared. The curtains were drawn back as she opened them, and the first rays of dawn shone bright, making her glow with radiance. She took a deep breath before petting the cat. “You and I, we’re similar. We don’t settle for mediocrity and incompetence. We work best alone, relying on ourselves and refusing for others’ vulnerabilities and rules to hinder our objectives.” She looked over at him, her voice firm. “We let the dust settle so daybreak can come.”
Her words were earnest, but Diluc could see that her eyes hid an ocean of secrets. However, he could not disagree. The dust settling, facing the darkness, welcoming dawn; on this, they both understood.
“You could continue as you are,” Nefer said. The cat jumped out of her arms, and she crossed them. “Though I can’t promise someone will be there to save you next time.”
Loud clashing of steel ghosted in his ears. Claws tearing into his skin burned; the phantom pain felt real. It was only a fraction of the Fatui's power. He could try again…
It would be a death sentence.
A soft purr and a head nudging at his arm broke him from his morbid thought. The cat mewled, gold eyes blinking, wide and curious, as if it could see deeper than it let on.
Perhaps he was looking too far into it. His heart melted, and he was careful as he ran his bandaged fingers over its fur, making sure to scratch behind its ear. The louder purrs made his lips upturn the slightest bit.
She could have left him to die.
She had information that she shouldn't have known.
Yet, she saved him.
Perhaps working with her could be beneficial.
Perhaps she could restore the faith he had forsaken?
Perhaps she would betray him.
In that case, he would kill her.
“Are you willing to dive under the surface?” She asked, sharing the same keen gaze as her cat as she watched him.
Diluc nodded his head, entrusting himself and his faith to her.
Nefer held out her hand. “First, I need a name.”
She knew his full name, but Diluc understood the hidden request. He clasped his injured hand in hers, giving a firm shake despite the pain. “Owl.”
“Owl,” Nefer repeated, a feline smile gracing her lips. “I look forward to our partnership.”