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Chapter Text

Diluc bolted out of bed, gasping for breath, clutching his neck. He barely had the wherewithal to lean over the side before he threw up on the floor, coughing and spitting at the acidic taste in his mouth. 

"Oh, shit. You okay?" Kaeya's voice. Kaeya. Footsteps thumping across the room just in time to catch him as he slumped down, to keep him on the bed. 

Diluc looked up at Kaeya hazily. He looked young, worried, his face smooth and clean and bloodless. "Kaeya?"

"Yeah?" Kaeya responded. His voice was higher than normal.

"I'm alive," Diluc muttered. "Did you... what... what happened? How long has it...? My head hurts." 

Kaeya put a hand on his forehead and frowned. "Do you know where you are?"

"A house? No, um..." Diluc tried to squint at the ceiling, but it only made his head hurt. There was a window, streaming in blue light, also made his head hurt. Everything spun. Where would he be, after he was injured like that? "Um, the Cathedral? No..." 

Kaeya muttered something under his breath. "How about the year, can you tell me what year it is?"

"Um... 2370..." 

His eye hardened. "Okay, we're going to the Cathedral. Can you stand? No, you know what, don't move. I'm gonna get Master Crepus." 

"Father? You..." 

"I'll be right back. Try not to throw up on the bed, would you?" Kaeya walked out of the room, openly hurrying. How unlike him. 

Diluc, still shaking a bit from the shock of waking up so violently, fell straight back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. The only half-coherent thought he could pull together was, What the fuck? This wasn't his room, nor was it the Cathedral. In fact, this was his old room from back when he used to live with Father and Kaeya. Yep, there were his old swords, the ones he auctioned off, and there, his Knights of Favonius uniform on the armour stand in the corner, shiny and well-cared-for. 

He was hallucinating. This had to be a hallucination, right? Who was doing this to him? 

The door creaked open on the far side of the room, and... no. No. 

"Good morning," Father said, not reacting much to the smell of vomit, just looking concerned. His white waistcoat cut a slim, tall figure in the doorway. His face was younger than Diluc remembered. "Kaeya told me you aren't feeling well." 

Diluc stared at him.

Father came over to sit on the bed, his weight making the frame creak. He reached over and placed a hand against Diluc's forehead. His skin was cool and smooth, soft veins gentle on Diluc's skin. He frowned. 

A choked sound Diluc didn't even recognize escaped from his throat at the touch. He tried to fight it, but he felt the corners of his mouth pulling down, his eyes stinging, his breath stuttering. 

"What's wrong?" Father's eyes, deep warm brown, creased around the edges, creased even more. "Kaeya tells me you were confused. Do you know where you are?" 

Diluc stared at him. A tear trickled down the side of his face, creeping down across his lips and leaving a cool aftertouch. It tasted bland and salty. 

Father leaned forward, gripping Diluc's shoulder in one warm palm. A nascent alarm in his eyes. "Diluc, can you speak? Do you know who I am?" 

"Father." The word was half a sob already. 

"Good," he said, and his expression eased a bit. "Can you tell me what's wrong?" 

"I– I–" Diluc took a shaking breath and pawed at his eyes. He laughed, and something in him snapped, and his whole body shuddered with relief as he settled back into reality. "I feel like I just h–had the worst, longest nightmare of my entire life."

"Do you need a doctor?" 

"N– no, I'm just kind of shaken. Um." A convulsive breath. "Sorry for worrying you." He glanced up. Kaeya was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, just looking at him. "Kaeya, I'm sorry as well."

"Hey, no big deal. As long as you're okay," Kaeya said. 

"Don't worry." Father patted his head. "Come on, get up. The best way to clear yourself of a nightmare is to go do something else, don't you find?" 

Diluc nodded vigorously. "Yes. Th– thank you, Father." 

"Come on, then. Mind your feet." Father took him by the arm and helped him out of bed, lifting him over the mess on the floor. Diluc smoothed out his white nightshirt, the fabric soft under his sweaty palms, and tried to fix his tangled hair. 

How did he get here? 

But that was a ridiculous question. He lived here. He lived here with Kaeya and Father and Adelinde and everyone.

What was that nightmare about, again? He couldn't remember. Kaeya is screaming. The aching touch of Cryo... He's around twenty, isn't he? A young man, strong... a tight claustrophobia is rising in his chest, weakness pervading his limbs... 

"Yo. Diluc. Catch." A bundle of clothes hit him in the face and by instinct he caught them, a tiny yelp escaping his lips. He stumbled back. Kaeya laughed and caught him, and his hand was warm. He had shifted, now, to that freer expression he showed around Diluc and Jean. "You were spacing out there, weren't you? Come and put these on in my room."

"Oh, um... yeah." Diluc shook his head, but it didn't clear. "Sorry."

"No worries."

Diluc looked around. Father was gone again. "Where's Father?"

"He's gone to get Adelinde. Or have you forgotten the mess you made?" The remark lacked its usual bite, though. 

"Oh." A moment later, the smell hit Diluc, and he gagged. "Ugh. Sorry about that." 

"Like I said, no worries. Now come on." Kaeya patted his shoulder and started moving, and Diluc followed behind him, his bare feet pressing on the cool boards, the swollen prickling in his heels of the first steps of the morning reminding him he existed. 

"...Come to think of it, why were you in my room?" Diluc asked.

"To wake you up, obviously."

"Why?" As far as Diluc remembered, Kaeya didn't used to wake him up. Then again... 

"It's almost ten. You're lucky we don't have a shift yet. Did you have trouble sleeping last night or something?" 

Diluc frowned, trying to concentrate, but he couldn't remember the details of last night. It felt like he'd been asleep for years. "I don't remember." 

"Hm. Anyway, what was the dream about?" 

"What dream?" 

Kaeya gave him a blank look. "The dream you just woke up from that was apparently so long and terrible. Are you sure you didn't hit your head or something?" 

"Oh. Yeah." Diluc shook his head again. "I... I don't remember." 

"Seriously?"

"I remember a couple things. I mean... It feels super real, I just..." Whenever he tried to think about it, it slipped away under how real this all felt, the cool boards under his feet, the wood-panelled walls passing beside him. "I think you had a Vision." 

"I had a Vision?" That got some mild interest out of him. "What kind?" 

"Cryo. You, um..." Diluc was starting to get an annoying little headache, pounding at the edges of his skull. He gripped his clothes tightly, the buckle of his belt shifting and clanking, cold beneath his fingers. A pressing nausea rose in the pit of his stomach and the back of his throat. He took a shallow breath, swallowing. 

"You okay?"

"I feel sick." His other hand found his Vision, hanging off his neck, a heavy pendant. He grabbed on and held it for dear life. 

"You don't have to talk if you don't want to," Kaeya said. 

"I just need some fresh air," he muttered. Kaeya nodded, pushing open the door to his room and ushering Diluc to sit on the bed. He strode across the room, past the pictures on the walls, to get the window open, shaking the frame back and forth to ease it up. Stubborn window. That always was a stubborn window, Diluc remembers, dumping his clothes on the floor. His gaze wandered across the pictures on the walls. A field of wheat. A scientific rendering of a mint plant. Generic stuff, all Father's. Paraphernalia on the shelves, bottles of medicine, a glove discarded on the dresser. It's remarkably impersonal, which makes sense, considering... 

Considering... 

A wash of nauseating pressure in his throat, and his head pounded. "Kaeya," he said, his voice coming out a whine. He rocked back and forth a few times, taking shallow breaths. "Can you get the chamber pot or something?" 

"Sure." Kaeya moved about the room to the corner, his footsteps making the floorboards creak. The clicking and scraping of porcelain from the corner, and Kaeya deposited something cold and heavy onto Diluc's lap. He grabbed onto it, pressing his palms into the chill of it, pressing his forehead into the rim. His body went cold and then hot and then cold again. A damp breeze ruffled his hair. Rain pattered gently outside. The clock on the wall ticked, each sound a new needle of pain in his head. He groaned.

Kaeya sat down beside him, the bed creaking under his weight. A cool hand on his forehead. "Okay, now you have a fever." 

"Uh-huh." Diluc was panting, shallow breaths that returned to him with a shiny porcelain echo. He took a deep breath in, one, two, three, like he learned in... the memory makes his head hurt. He doesn't think about it. One, two, three, four, five, six. He took another breath, and another, and the nausea slowly faded. 

"I take it you're too sick to work," Kaeya said.

"Mm," Diluc said, not trusting himself to speak.

"You can have my room until yours is clean and aired out. Just don't throw up on my sheets, okay?" 

"Thanks."

"Yeah, no problem." 

Diluc stared down into the porcelain, trying to pull himself back to reality and utterly failing. "I..." he said. "I think I died." 

"...What?" 

"In the dream, I mean, or someone, he, um, has... and... I... and... um, I get ambushed, and I try so hard to fight, but I can… I can feel everything draining away." He can see it now. The malice in that man's eyes. "I... don't realize until it's got me, and then I'm empty."

"In real life, I'd be by your side. I wouldn't let that happen," Kaeya said, picking up on his slight delirious panic. "You know that."

"Yeah, but in the dream you aren't because... uh..." Why not? Kaeya's his brother, isn't he? Was his brother. That day when he left, he'd seen Kaeya in town, only... "I think I told you to go away or something..." But that was earlier, wasn't it? Much earlier, four years earlier, after, after, after, after–

After all that stuff with Father and the monster–

Diluc threw up into the chamber pot, and then he retched and threw up again, the stabbing pain in his head worsening. He shuddered and spat. "Whoa, take it easy," Kaeya was saying, one hand on his back. "You done?" 

"I dunno," Diluc mumbled, gripping the edges of the chamber pot so hard he thought he'd break it. "My head hurts." 

"Okay. You good to move or are you gonna throw up again?" 

"I don't know." There was a pressure in his head, like his skull was being pumped full of water. Distantly, he felt Kaeya's gloves brush against his knuckles, taking the chamberpot away and setting it down. He doubled over, gasping into his knees. Kaeya eased him over and down into the bed, under the covers, something rough wiping his mouth. His head hurt. "So bright…"

"I'll close the curtains," Kaeya said. "And get a doctor."

"Uh-huh," Diluc said, his face buried in one of the pillows, the rough fabric against his forehead doing nothing for his headache.

The sound of curtain rings scraping against the rod. Kaeya's feet padded out of the room, and the door closed with a click behind Diluc, leaving him alone with the pain and the rain and the bitter, unrelenting cold. 

As he drifted off to sleep he found himself certain he was in Father's study, peeking out of the keyhole. Yes he was in Father's study, and he was down the hall, and he remembered why he was here, and he heard Father asking Kaeya anxiously whether it looked like some sort of plague, and Kaeya telling him not to worry so much without answering the question, like he always did. 

Someone came in and set a tray of food down on the table with a decisive click of cutlery. The smell of fresh bread wafted over. His stomach turned. His mouth tasted like death. 

"Can you please take that away," he slurred. 

"You're awake," Adelinde said. "Good afternoon." 

"G'dafternoon." He pushed himself up, shaking his mind clear. His head was bleary and hot, and his arms were stiff. "What's going on?"

"You're ill."

"Yeah, I figured. With what?" 

"Just a bug. It's only been a few hours, but the doctor came by and cleared you of anything serious." Gently, she took Diluc's temperature. "You seem better." 

"Mm. Good." He nodded, shifting to bring his feet down over the edge of the bed to meet the cool floor once more and stretch. Now that awful dream was a few hours off, a distant memory, it wasn't so bad. He couldn't even remember it. No, not a single detail. "I feel better, definitely. Thank you, Adelinde."

"My pleasure, Master Diluc. I'll inform Master Kaeya."

"What about Father?" 

"Master Crepus is out at the moment."

"Uh... huh." Diluc nodded and got back in bed, pulling the too-warm covers around him and settling back into the damp sheets. "Thanks." 

"My pleasure," she said again with a curtsey, and left the room.

A minute later, Diluc heard heavier footsteps thumping up the stairs and down the hall. "Yo, Diluc." Kaeya opened the door. "I hear you're feeling better." 

"Yes, much better, thank you." Diluc nodded, pushing himself up.

"Well, good. Father and I thought you were going into organ failure, or something, what with how fast and hard you went downhill." He laughed half-heartedly, in that way that let Diluc know he was entirely serious. "Just a stomach bug, looks like. I bet you caught it in the barracks, heh. I bet it was Godwin, too, he never bathes." 

"Yeah," Diluc said. "Just my luck." Another waft of bread smell. He pressed his tongue against the roof of his mouth as if it would ward it off. "Where's Father?"

"Out getting medicine for you." Kaeya sat on the bed. His eye was dim and dark in the grey light through the curtain, and he reached for Diluc, put his hand on Diluc's knee. "How do you feel?" 

"Uh," Diluc said. He swallowed. "Thirsty. Sore. Better than this morning." 

"Here." Kaeya picked up a glass of water off the tray and an empty waste bin from the floor. "Spit."

"Thanks." Diluc did, and then he sat up and drank, not too greedily for fear of throwing up again. When he was done, Kaeya took the glass and set it down with a gentle wooden noise. 

"All good?" 

"Mm." Diluc's eyes were drooping again. Archons, his head hurt. Why did his head hurt so damn much? 

"Okay. Try and sleep it off. You better be right as rain tomorrow, yeah? If I send you off to the Knights like this, Varka'll have me put down." Kaeya's lips quirked up in a mischievous smile, his bright teeth standing out in the dark. 

"The Knights?" He's in the– when did that happen? No, he knows himself better than that, he'd never join the Knights again. No, what? He never quit the Knights in the first place, he was... he was... "Ugh," he muttered. 

"Lie back down. Chill out for a while. You still have a fever." Ha, ha, chill out. Always with the frost puns–

–what? That doesn't even make any sense... 

"You okay?" Kaeya asked, apparently picking up on whatever expression he'd made as his headache doubled. 

"Yeah," Diluc muttered. "I'm okay." And he crawled back under the covers, pulling them back over himself. He closed his eyes, listened to Kaeya leave. 

He dreams of an older Kaeya, screaming at him, shaking his shoulders, but he can't hear the words. 

Diluc woke up again at around seven o'clock according to the clock on the wall, the room dim and bleary around him. He shoved himself out of bed and shuffled out of the room in his bare feet, the empty pit in his stomach weakening his arms as he made his way down the stairs. The banister was cool against his palm, the carpet on the stairs rough against the soles of his feet. His nightshirt swished around his knees. Below, on the main floor, Kaeya and Father were eating quietly at the dinner table. The smell of cooked tomatoes and the gentle clinking of cutlery drifted across the banister, making his stomach tighten with hunger. 

He only made it about halfway down the stairs before Father looked up and blinked in recognition. "Diluc, you're awake." 

"That I am," he said. "I feel much better."

He smiled, the skin around his mouth creasing gently. "Good. Are you hungry enough to join us?"

Diluc nodded, his fingers hesitating above the banister, as if to reach out, as if to do something more, say something more. 

"Go get changed and come down. Your room is clean." 

"Thank you, Father." Diluc turned and padded his way up the stairs again. He turned down the hallway– then stopped out of sight, his gentle breath in his ears, his fingertips trailing along the panel of the wall. His eyes rested on the door to Father's room. His fingers stretched out for it, for the handle. And all of a sudden, he was utterly certain that someone was standing there, staring at the door from the other side, waiting for him. 

"Well, that's encouraging," Father said, his voice drifting up the stairs.

"Sure is," Kaeya agreed. "If I may, Master Crepus…" 

"Always."

"I think you worried a little too much. I could have told you from the start that it was just a bug." 

Father chuckled. "I can't help but worry, I suppose. You'll keep an eye on him, won't you?"

"Of course," Kaeya said. "I'm just glad it wasn't a concussion. He got a nasty knock in training yesterday—I was worried about that." 

A firm clack of Father setting his fork down. When he spoke, there was a frown in his voice. "Kaeya, why didn't you tell me?" 

"I'm sorry," Kaeya said. How youthful he sounded, his voice fluting and expressive. He sounded seventeen or thereabouts...

...the same age as Diluc. Obviously. Because both of them were seventeen. Obviously. 

"I didn't ask for an apology. I asked why you didn't tell me." 

"He asked me not to." 

"...Hm." Still frowning. "In that case... there is a wiser way to resolve issues like that, don't you think?" 

"Yes, Master Crepus. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Well, don't look so down. He's alright in the end, isn't he?" Father chuckled. "Eat your ratatouille, or Diluc will steal it when he gets back." 

Kaeya laughed, a bit of relief in the sound. "Sure." 

Diluc padded quickly to his room, avoiding the edges of the walls so as not to creak the boards. He yanked some clothes out of his dresser and closet, the configuration still familiar to him after all these years—shirt, slacks, pendant, waistcoat, jacket—and pulled them on quickly, fixed his hair, the brush tugging his scalp. 

As he left, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror of the dresser. His own face stared back, his jaw still rounded and dotted with fading acne. His hair curled across his face, a washed-out copper in the dying light. His eyes were bright, wide and young. 

He hurried downstairs, the image of his own startled expression echoing in his head. 

The quiet warmth of family dinner welcomed him in. Father smiled. "Diluc. Kind of you to join us. Come, sit, serve yourself—we saved you some." 

"Thank you, Father." Diluc seated himself at the table, rubbing his knuckles against the velvet seat cushions. Father served him the rest of the ratatouille, still steaming from the stove. "Thank you," Diluc repeated, and dug in. The flavour of tomatoes and eggplants spread across his tongue, the tenderness of them alien in his mouth as he devoured them. The more he ate, the more the pit in his stomach grew. 

"Don't eat too fast," Father said. "You'll make yourself sick again."

Diluc grabbed the napkin to cover his mouth and speak. "Sorry, Father. I didn't have any lunch or breakfast."

"You didn't?"

"No, Adelinde gave me some food but I didn't eat any." Another bite, this time full of tomato. Meaty. Fleshy. Heavy on his tongue. He was starving, but the idea of swallowing it made him feel ill. "This is really good." 

"Thank Adelinde," Father said. "She made it. Kaeya, how are you tonight?"

"I'm doing fine," Kaeya said, leaning back from his half-finished plate and fiddling with his earring. It glinted in the half-light. "Being a knight is a bit boring without Diluc around." A tinkling laugh. "I guarded the gate for my whole shift. Jean says she's going to try and get a spot as an officer, though, so that's exciting at least." 

"She is? Good for her." Father was smiling. He took his last bite and a sip of his wine. "I hope she improves as much as she hopes."

"Of course. She wants to get promoted before she comes of age."

"To what?" Diluc laughs quietly. Like she could get promoted, she's... already... 

She's... 

His eyes stung. He took another bite of ratatouille. He couldn't tell what he got, but it was mush in his mouth, so rich it hurt. 

"I don't know. As high as she can get, I guess," Kaeya mused. "Like I said, she wants to be an officer next."

"Officer? At eighteen?" Crepus sounded amused. 

"You're sitting at a table with Diluc. Is it really so unlikely?" 

"Diluc's a different story," Father said, his voice warm with pride. 

Diluc tried to take another bite, but found his plate empty. He paused for a second, stunned. Stared at the red entrails on the white ceramic. 

"Oh, did you run out? Here." Kaeya leaned over and scraped the remainder of his serving onto Diluc's plate. "I'm not hungry anyway." 

Diluc's gaze snapped up to him, locking onto his eye. It glinted in the candlelight. His expression was perfectly casual too, one eyebrow quirked slightly in concern. 

Something rose in the back of Diluc's throat, prickled at his eyes. "Uh, thanks," he said, and it came out thick. 

"You look a little pale," Kaeya said. "Maybe you should head back upstairs." 

Diluc nodded abruptly. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah. Sorry." 

"No worries. Do you want to bring your food with you?" 

"I'm okay," Diluc murmured, standing up and pushing the chair back with a clatter against the parquet. "Goodnight." 

"Rest well, Diluc," Father said. "There's medicine in your room. Please take it before you sleep." 

"Rest well, brother," said Kaeya. 

Diluc nodded and hurried off, his heart pounding in his ears. The second he turned his back on the table, the urge to cry came back strong. He swallowed it fiercely. Archons, he was a mess. So overtired and underfed that even some simple kindness from his brother could bring him to tears. He'd get a good sleep and feel better tomorrow. 

He hurried up the stairs but lingered near the end of the hall, slipping into Father's room, where he could hear the conversation still. They didn't seem to be talking much, just eating peaceably. Still, the calm stillness of Father's room drew him in. There was nobody in here that he could see. He didn't leave. 

The sun was almost down, now, and the light cast in through the window was a dim steel-blue. The window was open, letting in a gentle breeze to ruffle the curtains and bedding. The bed was furnished with puffy pillows and a down comforter. The more things change, the more they stay the same. This is supposed to be Diluc's room. Still, the furniture was slightly different, here and there—an old dresser, an unfamiliar desk in the corner with a locked drawer. 

Diluc crept towards the desk, his fingers stretching towards the locked drawer. He rattled it, intimately and softly aware he was doing something bad. It was locked, though, and the keyhole was dark. He didn't dare light a fire to try and see, even with his Vision lying heavy at his chest. The longer he stood there, the longer this weight pressed on him, this heavy sense of wrongness in the air. Something is waiting for him there. He is waiting in there for himself, staring out of the keyhole. 

He wanted to see in that drawer.

Diluc knows just the thing. 

He reached to the collar of his shirt, thought better of it and pulled a small knife off his belt to rip out the stitches. They came clumsily, with the high delicate scraping noise of metal on fabric. The threads snapped. He pulled out the two pieces of wire supporting his collar. Perfect. He bent one of them, straightened the other as best he could. He knelt down on the soft carpet, his knees knocking against the desk, and got to work. 

When he was seventeen he didn't know how to pick locks very well. He closed his eyes and concentrated, gently prodding at the inside. A click, that was two. Another, three. Four took some fiddling. Five and six came easily. He restarted at one, and it clicked open easily. He turned the lock. Easy does it. 

The drawer came sliding open gently, soundlessly, and inside was a wooden box. It, too, was locked. He took it out and repeated the process, every hair on his body prickling with the fear of discovery. Still, there was the clinking of cutlery downstairs. Gentle voices. Kaeya, Father. Still down there. 

The lock on the box clicked, and Diluc slid it open. Inside there was a glove, and on the glove was a Delusion, mounted carefully onto a metal ornament on the back of a black right-handed fingerless glove, red and luminous in the blue room. 

He didn't know what a "Delusion" was. But there it is, staring at him, and he recognizes it because he remembers it from before, before everything, five months from now, red and glowing like it was on Father's hand, is on Father's hand, will be on Father's hand when he fights that thing–

–Diluc crumpled on the ground, freezing cold mud and rain, the smell of dirt and blood mixing, hilichurls jabbering gleefully, the canvas of the wagon torn, that thing's eyes, the same red glow in the same blue light, Diluc's jacket is soaked and his knuckles will be white with cold, his hair plastered to his forehead when Kaeya was yelling echoes through the darkening trees in the steel-blue twilight, the lanterns swinging, the stench of blood and waste from the bodies, with this same small knife in Diluc's hands as he will be kneeling over Father who was making a harsh rattling noise as he draws his last difficult breaths, as he slashed and will stab and had been shivering and waiting for minutes when Kaeya gets there and– 

Diluc shoved the thing away, slammed the box closed, the lock clicking, the drawer rolling shut, he locked it, scrambled away, out of the room, tripping and slipping on the carpet, his heart pounding, roiling nausea, a shrieking in his ears. And he remembered. He remembered, he remembered, he– 

"Diluc?" Father's voice, rich and low and warm with humour. "Are you okay up there?" 

Father. He remembered Father, he remembered how he'd died, in the rain, in the cold, his funeral, oh, those long, long years of coming to terms with the fact that he'd never hear Father's voice again or feel those heavy hands on his shoulder but here he was, and it was all coming back to him, now, all those nights he'd wished and prayed that somehow, somehow it would all come back, all those times he dreamed it was a nightmare, all of this, and here he was, and, and, and– 

Kaeya's voice, soft and quiet. Something, something, "...check on him?" 

Father said something back. Called again. "Diluc?"

His breath caught in his throat. Red-handed. He needed to, needed to, needed to– 

"...collapsed or something?" Kaeya asked, frowning. 

"I don't know," Father muttered. " Diluc?" he called again. The sound of a chair pushing back quickly, a screech against the floor. 

"Y–yeah, sorry, I'm fine! I just fell, I was checking for scrapes!" Diluc's voice was high and thin and reedy because he was seventeen. He fled to his room without even listening to Father's reply, didn't look in the mirror as he threw his makeshift lockpicks into his desk drawer. He peeled off his clothes and changed into new nightclothes, his hands fumbling uselessly with the crumpled fabric. He was sweating. He was cold. 

Deep breaths. He needed to stay calm. He remembered, he remembered, he remembered. He remembers. Kaeya, Father, that fucking dragon. He remembers, five years from now. Five infinitely long years. Kaeya begging Diluc to move, fight, do something, screaming get away from him, as Diluc gets weaker and weaker–

Diluc felt dizzy. It was all he could do to crawl into bed, clutching the sheets, willing himself to breathe evenly. It was all he could do not to panic. He closed his eyes and tucked his entire body under the blankets, out of sight. Curled up on himself.

So, he thought, taking long, deep breaths. He is dead. 

Yes, he is dead. There was no other explanation. He is dead. What a shame. And yet, he was here, not riding the winds with Barbatos nor rotting in hell with every other Delusion user, past or present. He was here, in his childhood manor, with Father and Kaeya. And he had a fever. And... he forgot to take his medicine tonight.

He sat up, pushed the blankets off and grabbed the bottle off the bedside table. There was a note under it—Father's crabbed handwriting. Drink half bottle, once at night and once in the morning. Get well soon. He put the note in his drawer, intending to save it on instinct. There was only so much of Father left in the world... 

But, no. Because Father was here, and Diluc knew. Provided this was not some bizarre dying dream or illusion... provided that... he could... he could... 

Diluc's breath began to come in quick bursts. Yes. Of course he could, of course. And it would be so simple, wouldn't it? All he needed to do was fight, and he already knew how to do that. Yes, he might have been dead, but that was fine. He was here, and breathing, so he wasn't truly dead. And if he wasn't dead, he could... he could...

Diluc lay back down, his heart thumping in his chest, listening to his breath, how high his voice was. A child's voice. He stared at the white ceiling, tracing the tan patterns lining every square of it. Exactly like he used to do. 

Yes. He could do this. He needed a rest, and then he could get to business, and everything would be okay. 

He closed his eyes, but he didn't get to sleep for a long, long time. When he did, he dreamed he is crouched atop his own chest. Diluc-below-him is utterly still, his mouth open in a vacant expression, his skin already taking on a mottled purplish webbing under its pallor, and his skin is cooling slowly. Kaeya has both his hands stacked over Diluc's chest, shoving his whole body weight into him at a steady rate, again and again and again. Kaeya is shiny with sweat, trembling and grunting with effort, counting each push under his breath, and Diluc's blood is slowly congealing in his hair. 

Chapter Text

The first order of business was finding a way to plan that wasn't going to be found out. That was pretty simple. Diluc dug around in Father's study in the morning while he and Kaeya were out until he found a few sheaves of paper. He pestered Adelinde for some scrap leather and a needle and thread and within a few difficult hours, he had his own crappy little handmade notebook. Next, he needed a cipher, but not a crackable one—Kaeya was far too canny for a simple letter switch, and if he ever found this notebook Diluc was done for. He made up an alphabet of new symbols off the top of his head, wrote it in order at the top of the first page. Even his key was encrypted. Perfect. He got down to planning. 

First of all—he didn't dare ask the date, never mind the year. Adelinde and Elzer were concerned enough already. Another few minutes of snooping around Father's study and he found a book of financial records, which stopped at March 31 with a purchase of medicine from the apothecary. Perfect. So, it was April 1, 2065—6 years before... well, before he died. He had precisely one month until D-Day: April 30, 2065, his 18th birthday, his coming-of-age—in other words, the day when his life went permanently to hell. It was enough time. It would have to be enough.

Next. A plan. A simple plan. He would get stronger. As long as he stole Father's Delusion, as long as he had his Vision next to him, he could beat that thing. He might die but he could beat it. He might have a weak seventeen-year-old body, still growing, still slim, but as long as he worked hard. He could, he could, he could. He would. He would save Father and he would find out where this Delusion came from and kill whoever did this to him, and then... 

What would he do about Kaeya? 

Because Kaeya was still a spy, after all. Still a traitor, a plant. Saving Father wouldn't change that. In fact, it would only erase the only chance to actually learn about it. Should they even be in the same house? He's consorting with a traitor to Mond– but he'll decide later. The important thing is that he saves Father, yes, that's the important thing, that he saves Father and that everything goes alright, and get rid of the Fatui infiltrators while he's at it and makes everything right, and then he'll decide what to do about Kaeya, how exactly to expose him. As long as he didn't disturb anything, yes, this was fine. He could live with this. 

Diluc found himself pacing. When did he start pacing? No matter. Plans, plans. One hundred and forty-eight days, a little less than five months, that would be fine. More than fine. He needed to get stronger. How strong was he? Certainly not enough to beat that thing, or maybe not brave enough to try, but he was braver now and could afford to put his life on the line—would accept being maimed, would accept death, for this, of all things, if Father was okay, if Mondstadt was okay.

To fight Ursa he needed speed, strength, stamina, agility. No, the Delusion. Both. Yes. Both. Vision and Delusion. He would steal it, practice. He needed to fight to judge his prowess currently. He would blend in, do his usual Knights of Favonius duty, yes, that would do nicely for starters. Where did Father get his Delusion? Diluc would get another one to practice with, if he could. Practice with it every day. He'd have to confiscate it before the fight. Right, the fight. He'd choreograph it, down to the last minute, he'd, he'd– 

A knock on the door. "Diluc?" Kaeya. It was Kaeya. 

Diluc opened the door. 

Kaeya was standing there with a rucksack slung over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised. He glanced down at the writing in the notebook, which Diluc hid quickly.

"Wow, you look terrible," Kaeya said. "Everything okay in there?" 

"Yes. Everything is fine." Diluc smoothed out his hair and clothes. "I'm just restless. Eager to get back on the job." 

"Riiight," Kaeya said. "Anyway, come on, let's have lunch."

"Yes, let's," Diluc said, though his stomach turned at the idea of spending time with Kaeya. He tossed the notebook and pencil on his bed and stepped out of his room, shutting the door with a click behind him. 

"I was thinking the roof," Kaeya said. "If you feel up to it."

"Absolutely," Diluc said. "Let's go."

He set off and Kaeya followed behind him, falling back into old patterns effortlessly. Except, this wasn't an old pattern. Not from Kaeya's perspective. Diluc could catch glimpses out of the corner of his eye, little creaks, the sound of Kaeya breathing. He could feel him behind him. It was all too familiar. 

He shook it off.

"You cold?" Kaeya asked. 

"No. Just... I feel weird today."

"Is your fever–?"

"Gone. The medicine did its trick." 

"Good," Kaeya said, as if this was a part in a multi-step plan of his. 

Diluc pushed open the door, his boots clacking on stone, then dirt as they turned off the stairs and down into the little garden alcove. The air was fresh today, making his skin prickle a bit from the cool dampness of it. The sky was overcast and dim, washed out. He picked his way through the rustling hedge, hauled himself up the support beam with familiar motions. Here, this foothold, and here, and there. Kaeya climbed after him. When they reached the edge, Kaeya boosted him up onto the roof, and Diluc pulled him up behind him, leaving them both sprawled on the warm red-orange tiles, Diluc panting slightly from the exertion. 

Kaeya picked himself up first, helping Diluc as well. They both picked their way up to the top of the roof, perching around back on the ridge. It was unsafe up here, but Archons, was it beautiful. The cool breeze brushed Diluc's hair into his face. Visibility was low, and Dragonspine was a dim blue spike against the sky. He scraped his nails against the tiles, hearing the gentle ceramic grinding sound, feeling his fingers stutter along the surface. 

Beside him, Kaeya unpacked a round loaf of sliced bread, a bright orange wheel of cheese and a jar of raspberry jam, placing them each in his lap atop a checkered cloth. He lay the cloth across Diluc's lap as well, balanced precariously, spread out the bread and cheese, and held the jam in his hand. "Go on, try it," he said. "It's good."

Diluc picked up one rough slice of bread and dipped it in the jam, ate the whole affair. It was good, the jam candy-sweet, the bread tough and tangy. He tore at it with his teeth. Chewed, swallowed. 

"Well?" Kaeya said. 

"It's good," said Diluc. "What's the cheese? Gouda?" 

"Yeah."

"Hmm."

"What, is it not up to your tastes, Master Diluc?" Kaeya shot him a teasing smile. "We were out of goat cheese. Best I could do."

"I should remind Connor to get more next time he goes into town," Diluc muttered. 

"Father already did. It'll be here by tomorrow." Kaeya leaned back against the ridge of the roof, sighing and tearing off a piece of cheese with his fingers. He dropped it into his mouth like a parody of a decadent noble eating grapes. 

Diluc stayed hunched across his knees as best he could without crushing the bread. 

"So," Kaeya said. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I don't know. I feel weird," Diluc said, urging himself not to freak out. Kaeya was bound to see something wrong—even when they were kids he was hawk-sharp. 

"Have you gone crazy? Genuine question." Kaeya's voice stayed light, like the gentle scrape of a razor blade. "What's with the weird writing in that notebook?" 

"I don't think I'm crazy," Diluc said. "I... don't know what you want from me. I'm sorry I feel under the weather, I guess." 

"Don't apologize, man," Kaeya said. "You know if anything happened, you can tell me, right?" His voice stayed light, sharpened. Anyone but Diluc might not have noticed the worry with which he approached the topic. He couldn't help but be a little proud of it. He couldn't help but be reminded how Kaeya and him used to be—still are, for now—so close that Kaeya didn't dare sweet-talk him the same way he did everyone else. 

For the most part. 

Diluc gritted his teeth. "I don't wanna talk about it." He started to leave, but Kaeya caught his collar with one darting hand.

"Wait. We don't have to." A hint of frustration in his tone, but not at Diluc. 

Diluc pressed his lips together, bit down and looked away. 

"I'm serious. I just need you to know that you can tell me if you want to." 

"I know," Diluc lied. 

"Good." Kaeya let him go, and Diluc settled back onto the tiles. "Thanks for the present, by the way." 

"...I don't recall." 

"It was only four days ago." 

"Like I said."

"Alright, alright. The book, remember? History of Kings and Clans?" 

Oh. That one. If Diluc remembered correctly, Kaeya wouldn't ever read it, and then it would get incinerated in the crossfire of that day. "I'll get you a different one."

Kaeya chuckled. "Am I so transparent?" 

"What would you want instead?" 

"Bring me an army of one hundred peacocks, decked out in gold jewellery."

"Seriously, Kaeya."

"Alright, wow. What's gotten into you?" Kaeya straightened up, stretching and taking another piece of bread. "I don't know."

"You really don't want anything?"

"Yeah. I think I have everything I need." He shrugged.

"Hmm," Diluc said. 

In the trees around the manor, birds and crickets twittered and chirped. A frog croaked. The wind rustled through the trees. He closed his eyes, listened, felt. Beside him, Kaeya's thigh resting against his. Warm. The gentle sound of Kaeya breathing, the click of fingernails against the jam jar as he took another bite. 

Diluc settled his head back onto his shoulders and turned his face to the sky. Before he could stop himself, he said, "It's so nice here." 

"Oh?" 

"I love this," Diluc said, and had to stop so his voice wouldn't crack. "I love sitting out on the roof and eating lunch with you." He took a shaky breath. "I wish things could stay like this forever." 

"Well, hey," Kaeya said softly, "maybe things'll get even better." 

"Yeah." Diluc sighed, scraping his nails against the roof tiles and squeezing his eyes shut. "Maybe." He draped himself down on the warm, hard tiles, curling over himself like a cat, careful not to upset the food.

Kaeya shifted and took off his jacket, slipping it under Diluc's head. 

"Keep your jacket on," Diluc said. "It's cold." 

"I don't mind," Kaeya said, and put a hand on Diluc's shoulder, as if to anchor him in place. 

Diluc shut his eyes tight. His dreams are vague at best, fragmented, painful. Someone is crying. 

When he woke up, he was back in his room, warm and quiet and dim. Kaeya was gone, probably back on shift, and the house was quiet except for Adelinde puttering around downstairs. 

Diluc reached over and grabbed the leather booklet from where it was placed on his bedside table. He opened it to the first page, where he'd barely written anything. In Kaeya's handwriting was scrawled, crazy person writing! and an arrow to the block of text. The more things change... 

Where did he leave off? Right. The cipher. It was scribbled at the top of the page in scrawling hand, practically vibrating with the frantic energy Diluc had when he was writing it. If there was one thing he'd thank Kaeya for, it was clearing his head. 

Diluc grabbed his pencil, as well, rolling it between his fingers. He thought for a moment. Put the tip to the page. Took it off. Put it on again. 

Oh, screw it. 

Diluc shut the book with a flimsy snap of pages and placed it in his desk drawer from the bed. It was around four-thirty according to the clock on the wall. What did he do, at this age, to occupy himself? Train, read? 

Oh, right. He used to hang out with Kaeya. 

Diluc gritted his teeth and got up, sorted out his hair quickly, pulled on his boots, grabbed his sword and left his room with the firm click of the door behind him. The heavy thump of his boots on the hardwood floor got even heavier as he sheathed his claymore, the scrape of metal on his back and the heavy weight of it bringing him some ounce of familiarity and comfort. This, at least, did not change—the weight of a sword on his back, the swing of it as he walked. The smell of this old house, so full of life. 

He thumped his way down the stairs and made his way out back, vaulting the garden fence and striding through the long grass to the forest, southeast towards Dragonspine. This close to the Winery, there were no monsters, besides a few errant slimes which he destroyed without a second thought. But he wasn't looking for monsters, particularly. He just needed a nice clearing with some good, solid trees. 

He found one in good time, with a nice boulder to sit on and several nice thick trees around, dotted with parasol mushrooms. First order of business: to gauge his strength level. That was easy enough. He got into stance and swung at the tree. 

His blade buried itself a few inches into the trunk with a loud thwack. 

Right, he thought, yanking the sword out and hefting it from hand to hand. It was a bit lighter than his later claymore, he remembered that much, but it had conducted Pyro adequately. It would do fine until he could get something more substantial. He could work with this. What he needed now was stamina. He was already more tired than he had any right to be from the walk over. 

He sat on the boulder and thought for a moment. What was that training regime? Usually, his activities would keep him pretty well in shape. But he needed more. Climbing, running, swimming. Stamina. Strength training, he could do with the Knights. There, another good reason to stay with the Knights—training resources. Besides, they hadn't disrespected Father yet this time. Was it right to be angry, for a crime they didn't commit? Even if, beyond a shadow of a doubt, they would? Well, no, but they did, didn't they? Or they will.

Ugh. This stuff was giving Diluc a headache already. He missed the old timeline, where he had an excuse to be angry at people, at least. Now when he was skittish around Kaeya it was just plain weird, and he was the asshole here apparently. But maybe that was the wrong way to think about it. Who was the asshole, who wasn't the asshole. He would do what was necessary. 

He had a dream about the old timeline, didn't he? He couldn't remember. Something about Kaeya again. That checked, at least. Kaeya was probably there when he died. 

Speaking of which, what happened to him? 

He closed his eyes and shivered. He dreamed, didn't he? He dreamed that dream of crouching on his own chest and watching Kaeya attempt to resuscitate him. Kaeya wasn't stupid, he wouldn't try to CPR Diluc back from catastrophic head trauma or blood loss or organ damage. Unless he was really that desperate and muddled, but... Diluc didn't want to consider that an option, so be considered those possibilities ruled out. So, what? Maybe he was strangled, suffocated. Yes, that sounded about right. But by who? 

His head hurt. He opened his eyes, and the forest was coloured blue by the afterimage of his eyelids. He'd have to investigate further. That is to say, try and remember. Sometime when he felt less tired. It must have been the transition that made him ill, some weird aftershock from dying. 

He tried to shake off the thoughts, but one remained: the vivid memory-image of Kaeya's face as he attempted CPR. His teeth were gritted and the tendons in his neck stood out. Sweat dripped from his forehead down to his chin. He counted under his breath. Diluc thought he heard a three thousand in there, which, if true, was impressive. At a proper 100 beats per minute, that meant he had been working continuously for thirty minutes, with no help coming, no medical recourse—in other words, no hope at all. 

Diluc still remembered the first aid course from the Knights of Favonius apprenticeship, back when he was still so small. How long do you do CPR before giving up on someone, sir? 

On a stranger, about twenty minutes. On a family member? Until you collapse. 

The teacher had smiled, because it was a joke, albeit a dark one. In the memory, though, Kaeya didn't seem to find it all that funny. Diluc wanted to grab his arm and apologize for the trouble. 

Diluc shook his head again and forced himself to get up, swinging his sword back and forth and stretching against the boulder. He didn't need to think about stuff like that. He's dead, and that was that. Anything in that shithole timeline is dead and worthless too, now. Wasn't this what he'd always wanted, always longed for, a perfect return to those old days? It was time to move forward. 

He attacked the trees with renewed vigor, feeling the jarring contact of his blade against the wood travelling up, through his arms, the sweat and ache and the harshness of his breath in his ears a welcome static to drown out the memory of Kaeya counting false heartbeats. He felled one tree, then the next, hacking and hacking at the trunk until the wood splintered and split and the trunk came crashing down. His arms started to ache and the blue light came down over the forest, colouring the shadows of his knuckles blue, the shadow of his sword blue, leeching the colour out of everything, until his vision blurred and went grey in the dark and he saw a distant countryside rolling away, Dragonspine in the distance. 

There's a wilted bouquet of flowers against the next tree. Roses. He brought his claymore down upon them, split the tree in a great crack, but when he looked down, there was nothing there but a gash in the earth. He shook himself off and redoubled his efforts. 

By the time he looked up, it was past twilight, and had gotten pretty damn dark. He cursed himself and turned towards home. 

Stumbling over twigs and branches, alone in the dark forest, he almost succumbed again to those thoughts, but he ignored them until he emerged from the trees and made a beeline for the back door, where golden light gently filtered in from the kitchen. His lone footsteps tapped gently against the flagstones of the back porch. The world buzzed gently around him, or perhaps it was too still—every movement of his arms made clear to him, as though he was acting to a nonexistent audience. He listened to the croaking of the frogs and the chirping crickets, each sound a ribbed and rough assault on his already-too-sharp senses. 

He placed his hand on the cold doorknob and turned it slowly, carefully, trying not to make any noise in case anyone was asleep. 

"Diluc." 

Diluc whirled around, his chest seizing, drew his claymore and put it between him and– 

Between him and Kaeya, the tip barely grazing Kaeya's throat. One arm was extended to tap Diluc's shoulder. In the half-light of the kitchen he looked irritated. 

"What do you think you're doing?" Kaeya asked, relatively unfazed. 

The claymore clattered to the ground. "Archons, Kaeya," Diluc said, arms falling limp at his sides. "I could have killed you."

"It's what you get for training when sick. Come inside, already. It's late." He smiled and pushed past Diluc into the kitchen, and Diluc trailed behind him, barely remembering to pick up his claymore and put it away. 

Kaeya shut the door nimbly behind him, his back still turned to Diluc in the lantern light. "You missed dinner," he said. "Here. I saved you some." He took a plate off the counter and held it out to Diluc. It was beef and some stir fry. 

Diluc took the plate. He stared at the dinner. It looked good, but somehow unappetizing—something about how he couldn't stop focusing on the rough, craggy texture of the meat, the mushiness of the carrots. He looked up at Kaeya. Kaeya's face was silhouetted in the lantern light, and he was so… readable, so rough. There was so much to hold on to, if Diluc cared to. He thought of Kaeya's slippery tone from before, smooth face like a carnival mask. He shivered, and Kaeya's eye flicked up to him in the half-light. 

"Kaeya," Diluc found himself saying, still staring into the dark bead of his eye. "Are you mad at me?" 

His face softened. "Eat," he said. "And then go to bed. If you have another nightmare you can come to me. You must be tired, since you're still unwell..." 

Still unwell. Still trapped here, in a memory, useless and impotent as the deadline drew nearer. Another day of wandering through the forest, Kaeya's breathless voice counting up and up and up. "I'm healthy enough to work tomorrow," Diluc said. 

"Good. Prove it by sleeping well." Kaeya patted him on the shoulder, solid and real. 

Diluc stabbed a piece of steak and forced himself to take a bite. It was tough and chewy, and it tasted like pepper and metal. He swallowed. When he looked up, Kaeya was wiping a bead of blood off his neck, making a dark, shiny smear across his skin. 

"I think I'm gonna head to bed," Diluc said, putting the plate on the counter with a quiet clatter. "Goodnight."

Kaeya nodded, smiling. "Sleep well. I'll you tomorrow."

Diluc nodded quietly and left the kitchen, trailing up the stairs and to his room, trying to ignore the eyes peering at him as he passed the keyholes—waiting, impatient, hungry eyes. 

As he stumbled into bed, and all he could think of was how grateful he was to have tired himself out too much to even think. He dreamed, though, as he was expecting now. He dreamed that he's walking beside someone. Kaeya, again. Diluc-below-him's head rests against Kaeya's shoulder, lolling, limp. The birds twitter, the crickets chirp. His face is white enough to match the unstained sections of his shirt, his lips equally pale, but where his hands hang down out of Kaeya's grip, his skin is the deep, mottled purple of settled blood. In the far-off distance Dragonspine rears its head, little more than a muted spike against the horizon. 

Kaeya got him up bright and early the next morning by dropping his armour directly on his stomach with a dry, "Wake up, sleeping beauty, it's time to work," provoking a long string of swearing as he laughed. Diluc came very close to using Father's razor until he remembered that he hadn't actually needed to shave until he was nineteen. How strange. Within a few minutes, Kaeya and Diluc were making their way into Mond, finishing up their skewers on the way and throwing the toothpicks into the bushes. For a while, Diluc was confused that those fruity skewers didn't taste all that fruity, until he realized Kaeya was still seventeen and couldn't have any wine. 

"Yo." Kaeya chucked his last toothpick at Diluc's forehead. It bounced off and fell to the ground, snapping under Diluc's boot. "Care to share with the class?" 

"Nothing," Diluc said. "Just thinking about your cooking skills. The skewers didn't taste how I expected them to."

"You make breakfast next time, then." 

"Fair enough." He shrugged. The weight of his claymore on his back was comforting, familiar, so he shrugged again to feel it press back. "Do you ever think it might be better if you added wine?"

"Wine in skewers? Hm. That's an idea. I'll try it next time."

"Where are you going to get the wine?"

"Don't worry your pretty little head about it, Diluc." Kaeya reached over and ruffled his hair. 

"Hey!" Diluc tried to duck out of the way, too late. "What are you doing?"

"Uh, giving you a hard time?" Kaeya's mouth slid open into a sharp-toothed smile. "I wonder if you're gonna be able to fight well when you're all spaced out like this. Need me to cover you?" There was teasing there, sure, but also a genuine question in his eyes. 

"I'll be alright," Diluc said. "Don't worry about me." 

"Sure." Kaeya shrugged. "We'll be careful today."

"If you want," Diluc said. 

"I don't! But, you know. We gotta ease you back into things." Another sharp grin. "Come on, race you to Mond?"

"You're going to tire yourself out."

"Well, you're gonna lose!" And light as a feather, Kaeya bounded ahead. 

Diluc sighed and ran after him. 

By the time they got across Mond's bridge, both of them were out of breath. Diluc was wiping his hair out of his face, adjusting his gear and trying not to pant too hard. Someone Diluc vaguely recognized passed him on the bridge with a smile and wave, and Kaeya waved back, grinning, before turning to Diluc. "Do I look tired out to you?" 

"Enough with the antics," Diluc snapped. "I'm tired." 

Kaeya's smile wilted. "Huh?" 

Diluc frowned. "What?" 

"That was... uncool. If you really didn't wanna run, you could have just told me." 

"I..." Diluc's voice died as his mind went empty. Right. Right, he and Kaeya, they weren't always so... 

Once upon a time, they weren't cruel to each other. 

His mouth twitched. "Sorry." 

"Hey, don't worry about it. It was..." A sigh. "It was a stupid idea, I'm sorry. Do you need to sit down?"

"No. I'm fine." Damn that automatic venom. Diluc bit it back and made an effort to moderate his tone. "I'm fine," he repeated. "I already said I'm sorry. Stop hovering. Let's just get on the job."

"Yeah, sure..." Kaeya didn't stop frowning, though, as they crossed the bridge into town. Diluc stared down at his feet. His boots were shiny and unscuffed—he'd probably gotten a new pair recently. It sounded right, at least. Anyhow, they were chafing fiercely at his ankles, and his Vision kept bumping against his chest, and everything about town felt so damn loud he couldn't even hear himself think. 

What did he do, as Cavalry Captain? Delegate tasks? It sounded right, but if it was true, that would be an issue. He didn't know jack about any of the current issues, and he was expected to coordinate the entire company? This could get ugly fast. Well, anything was better than nothing, right? 

"Kaeya," he said. 

"Yeah?" Kaeya took a few extra-large steps to pull up alongside him, gazing attentively his way. He looked like an obedient dog, positively sycophantic. It was absurd, how unsubtle he had been. And Diluc had trusted him. 

Diluc bit back his disgust. "Have there been any developments while I was away?"

"I would have told you about them." Kaeya laughed. "But, no. A small infestation of slimes near Dragonspine, I guess..."

"Any news of hilichurls moving in? Reports of… larger monsters?" 

"Nothing new. The biggest company of hilichurls halted in Starfell Valley a few days ago, and we told the Knights in the area to warn the civilians, since a couple estates got raided. Nobody should be around until we can spare the skilled personnel to deal with them. Mostly everyone's busy with the parties."

"Parties?"

Kaeya gave him a weird look. "The banquets, I mean. For the diplomats." 

"Oh, yes." Vaguely, that sounded familiar. 

Kaeya cleared his throat. "Anyway," he said. "The situation on Falcon Coast is also progressing nicely, about a day ahead of projections. I told a small company to prepare for deployment to deal with those slimes, but I think the local Knights will already have dealt with it. I thought you'd want to deal with the hilichurls yourself." 

"You were right." Diluc nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on the flagstones rushing by under his feet, the weight of his sword. "With a team?"

"Yeah, your usual." 

Then Jean would be there. Fine. He'd deal with that as it came up. "Good. Thank you."

"...Yeah, sure." 

Great. He said something wrong again, and he had no idea what it was. No matter. They made their way though the bustling Mond streets, Kaeya hailing people left and right. Popular, wasn't he? Oh, yes, that certainly was another red flag—how could he have been such an idiot as a kid? It's not like it wasn't obvious, Kaeya was just so perfect—not that Diluc could blame himself, after all, Kaeya was his damn brother, it was kind of the bare minimum–

Kaeya elbowed him. "Hey," he said. "I know you're in a weird place right now, but you're the Cavalry Captain, so greet your subordinates. People are gonna think something's wrong."

Diluc shook himself out of his stupor. "What?"

"There are Knights around. When they wave at you, wave back. Come on, bro! This is basic stuff." 

"Right." He took a shallow breath. "Thank you." That was irritating. Not that he wasn't used to being accosted by meaningless social interactions on the street, but that he had to wave at Knights. Well, he was one of them now, he supposed. 

"Yeah, no problem." Kaeya socked his shoulder lightly. "Now get your head in the game." 

"Captain Diluc! Good morning!" called an older Knight. He'd be retired by the time Diluc came back to Mond, and Diluc didn't remember his name. He gave him a respectful nod anyway. 

"Good morning, dears," smiled an old woman at a stall—oh, it was Nadja. She used to give out candied chestnuts, on the street, had passed them out to Kaeya on his first day in Mond while Diluc showed him around... she'd be dead by the time Diluc was back in Mond.

He swallowed, smiled. "Good morning, ma'am." 

"Morning, Mrs. Anneka!" Kaeya called. "How are the sales today?"

"Good, good! Here, take a few for the road. My treat." 

"Oh, we couldn't possibly," Kaeya said with a gracious smile, already stepping forward to take them. 

"Nonsense," she said. "And young Master Diluc, where have you been for the past couple days?"

Diluc smiled politely at her, straightening and moving into an easy parade rest. "I'm afraid I took ill, ma'am. I'm all better now." 

"Ill? Well, you're young, you'll bounce back." She chuckled. "Here, take these. And send Master Crepus my regards, will you?" 

"Will do." Diluc smiled, taking off his glove to pick up the handful of chestnuts she was holding out. They were sticky and slightly warm, and he dropped one into his mouth, the sweetness of it yanking him right back down to the present, the chatter around him, the rattle of carts on cobble. "Thank you so much. Have a good day." 

"Oh, you too." She smiled. 

Diluc nodded at her and moved on. 

"Hey," Kaeya said, nudging him with a grin. "That's the first time you cracked a smile since you got sick." 

"It was?" Diluc put another chestnut in his mouth, pushing it around with his tongue before crunching down on it. 

"Yeah, dude. I said you're acting mega weird, didn't I? I didn't know it'd be Mrs. Anneka of all people to break you outta that funk."

"I was just being polite," he said. 

"Oh." Kaeya pursed his lips. "Well, if you say so. Anyway, here, I'm not hungry." He crammed the rest of his chestnuts into Diluc's palm, skin brushing against skin. "Take 'em. Enjoy."

A lump rose in Diluc's throat. He stared down at the chestnuts in his palm. "Thanks."

"Aw, man! I was certain that'd make you smile! Don't you like chestnuts anymore?"

Great. Just great. He bit down carefully. He wasn't even going to dignify that with a response—it would only feed Kaeya's ridiculous competitive urge. They were almost at the Knights HQ anyway, so he just needed to stall. 

"Diluc? Captain Diluc? Hellooo?" Kaeya waved a hand in front of his face. "Aha, I guess I'm free to go steal things and be a scoundrel all over Mond then..." he teased. "Say goodbye to law and order..." 

"Kaeya, stop," Diluc said. "I'm not in the mood."

"Archons, you're being tough." 

"I am not being tough. I'm tired. Don't take this as a challenge."

"I will," Kaeya singsonged, hopping up the steps towards HQ. 

The pressure in Diluc's chest burst forth with a growl. "This isn't a game, okay? Could you please leave me alone!" 

Kaeya stopped, staring at him. Diluc stopped as well, the flow of people coming in and out of the building parting around them like a river. 

"Dude," Kaeya said. 

"It's nothing. I don't want to talk about it." Shut up, shut up, shut up. Why the hell was Diluc still talking? There had to be a better way to deal with this. He knew in the time before, he would have left, or shut down and stopped talking at least. But that was the problem, wasn't it? He couldn't just leave, because coldness was the problem. And he couldn't help himself, because he still had the body and brain of a teenager. He gritted his teeth and mentally kicked himself for not seeing it before. Too late now. 

"Okay," Kaeya said. Beneath his cool expression there was a hint of frustration, probably because he was obviously planning to initiate this somewhere else. "Seriously. What's wrong?" 

"I'm not doing this with you right now," Diluc said. "Like I said, I'm fine." 

"The hell you are. Diluc, you haven't laughed in three days." 

"I don't see anything to laugh about."

"Exactly! So why don't you just let me murder whoever did this to you, and we can keep going like nothing ever happened, huh? What, are you being blackmailed or something? Did you see something terrible happen, did someone hurt you? Let me know! I can help." 

A million biting responses flooded Diluc's head, but he managed to keep himself silent. He wasn't going to make such an idiotic blunder as snapping again. "Nothing happened to me. I'm fine." 

"It's like talking to a wall," Kaeya said with an exasperated sigh. "A wall that tells barefaced lies to its favourite brother." 

Fine words from a Kaenri'ahn traitor. Diluc bit the urge back—not the time. "Okay, since you are apparently finding this so hard to understand, let me spell it out for you. I don't need help. Drop it." 

"If you're so fine, then you should be able to explain why you're acting like this, dude. At least give me some assurance here!" Kaeya said. "Come on, I'm on your side. I'm only trying to help." 

"Yeah, by gathering intel carefully, 'cause you thought I wouldn't notice? Nice try." 

Kaeya's expression snapped closed. "That's not what I was doing."

"Oh, isn't it?" Diluc bit back a bitter laugh.

"Listen, I know you're trying to bait me into arguing with you. I'm not gonna lie, that's pretty slimy, Diluc." Oh, that lying prick! Diluc tried to interrupt, but Kaeya spoke right over him. "But I don't care how angry and defensive you get. I'm not going to leave you like this, so stop it already." 

"Well, if you want to keep pushing, that's not my problem." Diluc crossed his arms. "Are we done here?"

"Not until you stop saying shit like are we done here. Can't you appreciate my point of view? You literally went to bed one person and woke up completely different, as if I wouldn't notice–" 

"I was sick–"

"I know you, Diluc, and this is not how you act when you're sick!" 

"Excuse me," said a voice behind Diluc. "Is there a problem?" 

Diluc turned. It was Jean, young, her face soft, her hair shiny in the pale morning sun. She looked... half skeptical, half amused. But it was kind of hard to soak in the nostalgia when he was still buzzing with rage. 

"Jean," Kaeya said, tone switching to light and airy on a dime. Bastard. "Good morning! It's nothing serious, Diluc's just being stubborn about caring for himself. He's still feeling a bit under the weather, you know." 

Diluc glared at him, but he couldn't manage the same level of vitriol. Something about Jean made him feel like he was a five year old having a tantrum, no matter how serious he knew this was. 

"Wow," she said with a quizzical smile, "the Ragnvindr brothers in an actual disagreement. I saw it from the window, but I didn't believe my eyes at first." 

Diluc couldn't help but let out a bitter little chuckle at that. Kaeya's eyebrows shot up. 

"In any case," Jean said, squaring her shoulders, "Diluc, I'm sorry I couldn't visit you while you were ill. I had a lot of paperwork. I'm glad you're feeling a bit better."

"Oh, thank you," Diluc said automatically. "Don't worry about it." 

She smiled bright. "Regardless, if you're done, let's head inside. Kaeya, you need to debrief from yesterday, and Diluc, Varka needs you with the other captains. You're late. I was thinking we could reconvene and take care of those hilichurls at noon, too. I'll bring Joyce, if that's alright." 

Diluc nodded. "Thank you, Jean, that sounds good. I'll be right there." 

"Likewise." Kaeya smiled at her, a shiny winning expression. 

"Good! See you soon." And she jogged off to who-knows-where. 

"Well," Kaeya said, and his voice held an all-too-familiar touch of tense cynicism. "Shall we?" 

Diluc went cold at his tone, exactly the same as it would be, as it was. After all that stuff. Great, just great. "Yes," he said, not trusting himself to say anything else. 

They turned and headed inside. Both Varka's office and the meeting room where Kaeya was presumably to be debriefed were in vaguely the same direction, so they ended up shoulder-to-shoulder, the silent tension in the air so palpable Diluc could almost feel it. He needed to fight it, needed to say something that would fix it, but refused to lie. Not to Kaeya, not about this. 

He exhaled, a strained sound. The gesture was mostly meant to self-soothe, but Kaeya visibly took notice. He nudged Diluc, caught his eye, and gave him a steady, warm nod. 

Diluc swallowed, nodded back. "Good luck," he said. 

"You can have it, you need it more," Kaeya said with a pallid smile, and vanished into the debriefing room. 

Diluc only stood in front of the door like an idiot for a few seconds, to his credit. He swallowed, swallowed again, and nodded to himself. Yes, of course this was different from that day. It was just a minor disagreement, nothing was seriously wrong. It was fine. 

He headed off, shouldering through the crowd milling around in the headquarters. He couldn't help but snicker a little from the stark difference with the HQ from a few years from now, barren and abandoned. How the mighty fall. Especially when they have a flighty Grandmaster. 

Speaking of which. 

Chapter Text

Diluc knocked and pushed open the door to the Grandmaster's office with a deep bow. "Grand Master Varka, good morning."

"Ah, Cavalry Captain Diluc!" Varka's voice reminded him a little of Father's. "Come in, come in. It's time for the monthly debriefing."

Ah. Right. Crap. 

"Yes, sir," Diluc said, and strode over to join the line of captains standing before Varka's desk. The lineup had changed over the years. Hertha was still head of intel and logistics, and Albedo of investigation was missing entirely, but the rest of them were largely predecessors—Laurel on reconnaissance, Inspector Enoch standing attentively in the corner, and even one man Diluc recognized as Emil from foreign affairs. Diluc tried very, very hard not to glare at Enoch. 

"Please, Hertha," Varka said, gesturing for her to continue. 

"Thank you, Grand Master. As I was saying, what with those cuts, it's becoming difficult to purchase our supplies. Liyue's mines are undergoing a shift in working conditions, and refined metal requires Mora. We have little leverage in that area. Without the budget for it, we are going to run out of weapon supplies."

"Why not commission the blacksmith?" Laurel asked. 

"The issue is purchasing the actual metal," Hertha said apologetically. "Besides, the blacksmith also requires money."

"Cut the supplied rations?"

"That would put the burden on our own organization to compensate for it, changing from prevention to treatment." 

"Hmm," Varka said, scribbling something down. "Thank you, Hertha. Emil?" 

Emil paled. "With due respect, sir, I wasn't expecting to give a report today—I'm not a captain, I'm only here to advise Sir Laurel."

"I don't expect a thorough report," Varka replied. "Just give me an idea of how things are going." 

"They're... fine, sir. Madame Pelletier is settling well at the Goth Grand Hotel for now, and supplies are on track for the banquet. We hope to have new industry growing near Springvale by December. I had the privilege of talking to the treasurer, and your budget should be back to normal within a month, and growing from taxation depending on the deal between the Church and Madame." 

"Good, good." He hummed. "See, that wasn't so bad, was it? Well, as for Captain Diluc, your brother already gave me a written report yesterday anticipating your absence today. All I need is for you to confirm that information, and you'll all be free to go."

Kaeya, it is really hard to be mad at you. "Whatever information he gave you is accurate," Diluc said. "I trust his account." 

"Fantastic! In that case, you are all dismissed." Varka waved them away with a flourish of his pen. Everyone bowed and filed out, vanishing into the milling crowd in the lobby. 

As Diluc left, Jean waved at him from beside the door. "Hi," she said. "Are you ready to head out?" 

"More than ready," Diluc said, arching his back. "Oh, and..." He hesitated. 

"What is it?"

Screw it. "You're in my company right now, aren't you?" 

She gave him a weird look, but didn't question it. "Yes, I am." 

"Could you get me a copy of Kaeya's report to Varka?" 

"Why don't you ask him yourself?" she asked, adjusting her belt. "You see him more than me."

"Honestly... I'd rather keep it on the down-low." He tried for an 'awkward but genuine' smile.

She didn't buy it, by the look on her face. "Well, yes, but keeping it from Kaeya? Do you think there was something wrong with his report?"

"No, I just like to know what I'm giving my approval." 

"Then ask him."

"Jean–" 

"C'mon. He's probably out by now, let's catch him and assemble our team. If we hurry we can be back by two." She gestured with her head, already heading into the crowd. "Come on!" 

Great. She was probably going to tell him about Diluc asking about the report, and it would be a whole mess... if worse came to worst, Kaeya and his relationship might even get wrecked again, completely and irreversibly like last time. Well, it's not like the cracks weren't already starting to show. And he probably wouldn't get to see the report either. 

Archons, he needed to pull himself together. This was already turning into a shitshow. Diluc took a deep breath, swallowed the urge to punch a wall and pushed through the crowd after her. 

Kaeya and Joyce were already outside HQ when Diluc came out the door into the sunshine, Kaeya leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, Joyce sitting against the steps and fiddling with the buckles on his armour. He was young, like Diluc remembered him, with choppy blond hair and a roguish face. As Jean and Diluc emerged, Joyce straightened to attention. "Captain Diluc, you're back! Are you well?"

"Very well, thank you." Diluc motioned for him to stand down, a little disgusted by how easily he fell back into the hierarchy of it all. "Kaeya." He nodded.

Kaeya nodded back, pushing himself off the wall. "Yo. We ready to go?" 

"I believe we are," Jean said. "Joyce? Sir?"

"Ready," Diluc said. 

"Yessir!" said Joyce. Archons, he was young. Diluc bit down the wave of rage at how the Knights were putting him in danger—another teenager, by the looks of it. Not that Diluc was any damn better. Cavalry Captain at fourteen. What a joke. Even before they were strapped for personnel, this was atrocious.

And, he remembered, he was about to enable it in the worst way possible. 

He'd have to keep an eye on Joyce. And Jean, and Kaeya too, though all of them were already very capable by seventeen. He may have had the body and emotional regulation of a seventeen-year-old, but damn it, he was an adult on some level and they were his responsibility. If he couldn't afford to keep them out of danger entirely then he'd damn well make sure they made it out in one piece.

But he was being dramatic. This was glorified pest extermination. 

"Let's head out," he said, interrupting some conversation between Joyce and Jean. Kaeya was looking at him—probably had been for the whole time he was spacing out. "If we hurry, we can get some extra stuff done in the afternoon. I'm sure we're all busy." He, himself, should probably stay out a bit longer and test his skills on some of the surrounding enemies, assuming there were any... they were less prolific, in these days, while there was still a robust force to take care of them. Maybe he'd have to go to Dragonspine. But he'd be suspected, almost definitely... 

"Aye-aye, captain," Kaeya said, clicking his heels with a slight twitch of the lips that, in Diluc's older days, would have been a full-on sarcastic grin. As the team headed out, he fell into step beside Diluc, just behind him, just like always. Jean didn't try to brief him, and Kaeya didn't try to talk. He probably figured that Diluc would tell him whatever it was when he was ready. That suited Diluc just fine. It gave him time to think, anyway. 

So. Dragonspine. It wasn't as if Father regulated his comings and goings. Speaking of which, it really was irresponsible of him to send his fourteen-year-old son off to fight monsters, no matter how he had a Vision and was supervised. Wishful thinking, really; Diluc had always known that Father lived vicariously through him, and he was okay with that. In any case, it would be an advantage now. 

What else was there to do? Well, he'd be gauging his current strength in this fight, so no need to worry about that. He'd have to appear normal as well, though that was hardly high on his list of priorities at the moment. Gaining resources… he knew where the Delusion was, and could easily obtain more weapons from the Knights if he didn't mind being suspicious. The question was, did Father regularly take the Delusion out? Or did he leave it around? Diluc would have to check in order to know if and when he could practice safely. Learning the routine would take some time. Luckily, he had another thing to worry about in the meantime: the Fatui. Dottore hadn't won over the Church by defeating Ursa yet (and he never would, not if Diluc had anything to say about it). It made sense they'd do more subterfuge, but he had the advantage of being Cavalry Captain. He'd just have to weed the Fatui out as they popped up. It was an endurance game, and the finish line was Diluc's coming of age. Fine. 

Diluc kept thinking as they made their way, aggressively ignoring Kaeya's concerned look. As the sun rose higher in the sky, they beat a path he only half-remembered. Right, he'd actually taken care of these hilichurls before. He was supposed to have taken care of them and their small camp on the day he got sick. No matter. A few missing days were an issue, but hardly a massive one. 

As they crept through the trees towards the reported location, though, something seemed... off. Maybe there was a bit too much smoke in the air, maybe the faint jabbering of hilichurlian was a little too loud. Maybe it was the traces of wood harvesting that extended a little further into the bush than Diluc remembered. Or maybe it was the fact that the branches were scraping at his face and getting caught in his hair and it was annoying, and that Joyce kept stepping on twigs, risking alerting the hilichurls of their presence. Man, he hated working with the Knights.

When they peeked out through their bush, though, he knew why he felt unsettled: the camp, which he remembered as being pretty small and underpopulated, was now four times the size, and crawling with hilichurls. He tried to count them, but they moved too much, passing among each other. 

Kaeya made a grim noise. "I count twenty-four."

"We need backup," said Jean. 

"Nah. That's six each. I can take on six if you all can." Kaeya reached for his blades. "Let's go before they get the chance to develop even more." But he wasn't serious. No, his gaze was drifting to Diluc's face with an expression of teasing resignation.

All Diluc could see was the number of them. Their wiry arms. And he knew he could take them. He knew it. 

"Kaeya's right," he said. "Let's hurry. We have the advantage of a sneak attack." 

He was glad he couldn't see Jean's face, because she sounded indignant. "Captain Diluc..." She didn't go any further, not into direct insubordination. Yep, that was Jean all right. 

"Don't worry," he said. "It will be fine." His hand finds the pommel of his sword. "Are you all ready?"

"We should at least spread out first, don't you think?" Jean protested. 

Kaeya's eyes were alight. No more worry living there—just hunger. Only Diluc could see him, from the side, his face silhouetted against the dim light through the bushes. And Diluc remembered how quietly brutal Kaeya was in battle.

He gritted his teeth and cursed himself for a hypocrite. 

"Three. Two. One. Go." 

He launched himself out of the bush, and his Vision flared at his hip, singing with the glory of battle, and he was off. 

The hilichurls' cries of rage and glee sounded before he even reached the camp proper. He slashed the nearest ones and they went flying back against the tower. One tried to attack him from behind and he tried to skewer it, only it didn't work because he was too damn weak as a kid. He bashed its head against the ground, braced his foot against its chest and yanked his sword out just in time to defend from an oncoming attack from an already bloodied hilichurl. He smashed it against the ground with the blunt side of his sword and kicked it away. It didn't go as far as he wanted, but he turned to take care of the first few—and found that there were five in a group, packed together. Probably planning to swarm him. 

He smiled. Perfect. His Vision flared and sang and filled his heart, and a great roar of unfurling wings of fire filled the hilichurls' ears, whipping them into a frenzy. They slashed at the bird. Too late. Within a moment, each one was stumbling and squealing, a few still staggering towards Diluc and swiping at him. He finished them off quickly and turned back to the others. 

Jean seemed pretty much fine, finishing off a hilichurl with an efficient slash. Kaeya was staring at him, distracted, as a relatively weak hilichurl crept up behind him. Idiot. Diluc launched himself sideways with a Kaeya, look out!, took the hit, and cut its head clean off, whirling around to steal the next kill from Kaeya as well. He cast him a look as he shook the blood off his blade. "You okay?" His voice came out kind of a wheeze from the blow to his chest. 

"Bro, what?!" 

Oh, never mind. He'd deal with this later.

Diluc headed over to help poor Joyce, who was getting ganged up on by two or three at once. In a flurry of fire he got them off him, and Joyce joined him in decimating them with brutal efficiency. Diluc turned for the next fight–

–but there were no hilichurls left at all, just Kaeya brushing at some fluff on his collar as he checked to make sure the rest were dead. He glanced up at Diluc, his expression unreadable. "How many kills?"

Diluc frowned, taking a moment to count them up in his head. "Eleven?"

"Twelve," Joyce said from behind him, "if you're counting saving my bacon. That was brutal, by the way! In a good way! Where did you learn to fight like that?" 

Diluc ignored him and turned to Kaeya. "Are you seriously pissed at me for stealing kills? Kaeya–"

"It's not that," Kaeya said.

"Then..."

"Well, I kind of want to ask you how you learned to fight like a seasoned veteran in two sick days, or what that bird thing was. But you'd just feed me more bullshit excuses, wouldn't you, Diluc?" He looked up, and their eyes met. Uh oh. He forgot he didn't know how to burst yet when he'd been seventeen... Oh, forget it. The damage was done. 

Diluc resisted the urge to scowl at him. "Fine," he said. "Let's go, then."

"Dude," Joyce whispered to Jean as they began to head out. "Are they seriously arguing? What happened?"

"Nobody knows," Jean said. "Don't worry, they'll work it out. Diluc tells him everything eventually."

Yeah, well, not this. 

From the look on Kaeya's face, he overheard her too. He glanced at Diluc, looking as if he couldn't decide which expression to wear. Eventually he pressed his mouth shut and looked away again. 

Diluc's chest hurt where he took that hit. His hand found his Vision of its own accord, and he held on tight. 

That night he dreamed again, dreamed a dream that there's a weight over top of him, a weight that never lifts. He can't see. He can't hear, he can't think. But somehow he is there. And then he is not, and he's standing on solid ground, his feet planted in the soft soil, six feet above where Diluc-below-him lies still, unthinking. He makes no footprints. He's carried secretly in someone's pocket, somewhere warm and far away. People come and people go. Bennett, crying. Connor, also crying. Elzer, tired. Adelinde. She looks like she doesn't even believe it, like she's waiting for it to be a prank. If he remembers correctly, he left the estate to her care, and the Angel's Share to Elzer with instructions not to sell it. He has no heir. So much for the Ragnvindr clan. Jean mutters a prayer to Barbatos, but Barbatos is nowhere to be seen. People come and people go, and people go, and people go. 

When everyone is gone, and the sun sets, and the Traveller appears with Paimon trailing behind, hair shining bright in the yellow light of day. The Traveller says nothing, but then, the Traveller rarely says anything. Paimon cries like a child. Diluc wants to tell them not to trouble themselves.

And still he waits, and waits, as the dream stretches on and on. The inscription is already starting to wear, not enough that the living can notice, but enough that Diluc can feel himself wearing away. Rest in Peace Diluc Ragnvindr, 2348 – 2370. Son, brother, friend. And half the family motto: Forget not whence thou came. 

It's so banal, and criminally artless even as far as pretty lies go. All he feels is indignant that he ended his life as a cliché. 

Father's grave is around here somewhere, but he can't move. His feet are half buried in the soft, soft soil. He is waiting.

The sun begins to set. 

Kaeya is standing there in the golden light, obviously drunk off his ass. It figures he would come to Diluc's grave drunk off his ass. He never did have any respect. The welcome weight of sick reality is pressed upon the unreal texture of the dream. Diluc is curled up in the fetal position in Kaeya's pocket, frozen in amber and clutched between his gloved fingers. He is cold. 

Diluc, he says, his voice's slimy-smooth texture mingling with the first worm breaking soil, making its way through the crack in the coffin, pulsing its way into the swollen purple flesh of Diluc-below-him. I...,

Great, Diluc thinks. Here comes the obligatory apology.

Diluc, I'm gonna find that bastard, Kaeya says, his voice light and ice-cold. I'm gonna find him and I'm gonna make him pay for what he did.

Diluc tries to answer, but as he forces the words out of his reticent throat, he felt them emerge in a much heavier way, and he had to stop himself from speaking into his dark bedroom for fear of awakening Father or Kaeya. 

Chapter Text

Diluc woke from fractured, tranquil dreams again for apparently no reason. His window was facing the east side of the Winery: he stared at it blearily and realized that the sky was faintly purple with predawn light. The clock in his room ticked faintly. His head was stuffy, slow, his joints stiff. He didn't know how much sleep he got, but faintly suspected that it wasn't enough. But there was that hint of light in the sky, now, and there was no way he was getting back to sleep after whatever the hell he dreamed about. 

He dragged himself out into the cold air and got dressed, headed downstairs to make himself some food. He didn't intend to bother anyone, just to grab something quick from the kitchen—but when he came downstairs, Kaeya and Father were already having breakfast next to the fire, with Elzer sitting across from them, looking young. As always in the morning, it took a moment to convince himself that shock of red hair and Father's young face weren't hallucinations. But they weren't, he reminded himself, shaking his head and heading the rest of the way down the stairs. This was real. This was his life now, and he had every right to it. He swallowed and shoved the thoughts aside. 

"Mornin', Diluc," Kaeya said through a mouthful of egg. 

"Kaeya, don't speak with your mouth full," Father said, but turned and smiled. "Good morning, Diluc. You slept in again. Have you been staying up late?"

Not that late, Diluc wanted to protest, but then he remembered that since he was used to the whole vigilante thing, his sense of schedule was extremely off. "A bit. I'll try to get to bed at a reasonable hour today, though."

"See that you do." Father nodded. 

"Master Diluc," Elzer said. "I haven't seen you in a while, hm? Come, sit. I'll call Adelinde to fetch you something from the kitchen."

"Oh—no, thank you, Elzer. I'll fetch it myself, no need to trouble poor Adelinde." Before he could protest, Diluc left the room. 

Speaking of the vigilante thing, should he reinstate that habit? But, no. Kaeya would definitely suspect, since the hero would have appeared right as he started acting strange, and besides, his family would notice that he was on a skewed schedule. 

His family would notice. Wouldn't they? Even now, Elzer and Father were chuckling at something Kaeya said, the sound muffled through the wall as Diluc made his way over to the pots of food. Diluc could practically see Kaeya's smile as they laughed. Was that, too, fake? How much of Kaeya was real? Was his loyalty? Was it never there in the first place, or did Diluc kill it? Did Kaeya even know? Well, it was all gone now, obliterated, never happened in the first place. Except for those infernal dreams. 

No matter. He'd find out soon enough. He'd deal with Kaeya once Father was safe. For now, all he needed to know was that Kaeya would be an ally and not an enemy, and history suggested he would be.

Diluc scraped some egg, toast and bacon onto his plate, and hesitated close to the door, plate in hand. Just listening. His arms floating out of his arms, out of time and place. Towards Father's study. He shook his head and was back where he was again. 

"Oh, I'm sure," Father was saying. "The sales are up, recently. I don't know if we need another menu item."

"Aw, but think of the children," Kaeya said, and Father laughed, sharp and boyish, and suddenly Diluc's heart hurt so badly he could barely breathe.

"There's also the cost factor," Elzer said. There was a smile in his voice, even though there was no reason to smile. 

"I'm sure it would be fine," Father said. "I do agree that we should supply more family-friendly drinks."

"In a bar?"

"Come, now, the Angel's Share is more of a restaurant."

Oh, Archons, they were talking about the apple cider. It never did end up getting put on the menu, not until Diluc's time. He wanted to tell Father he'd done it and it turned out well. But his life's work was gone, and Diluc was still here, among everything he'd ever wanted.

"Well, I'll think about it," said Father. "Could I have a pen and some paper, please?" And Diluc could see it now: he'd write up that note to self that stayed on his desk until the day he died. 

It took all of his willpower not to slam open the door and throw himself into Father's arms. Stupid. How was he supposed to enjoy what had been given to him if he couldn't stop worrying about its demise? He clenched his fists, bit at the inside of his mouth and patted the tears away, gently so that his eyes wouldn't be red. And he grabbed his plate and emerged from the kitchen. He couldn't quite manage a smile.

"Ah, Diluc." Father smiled, his warm eyes barely visible in the firelight. "We were just talking about adding non-alcoholic options to the Angel's Share's bar menu. What do you think of cider?" 

I think it would increase your sales by 12% in the first six months as long as you had a solid marketing strategy. "Sounds like a good idea to me." 

"See, that's what I'm saying," Kaeya said. 

"Yes. Teenagers need excuses to hang out that don't involve drinking," Diluc said. Was that suspicious, to say teenagers as if he wasn't one? "Not only would you be gaining patronage, but you would be letting kids into a 'cool' environment like the bar of Angel's Share while discouraging them from drinking. It's a win-win."

"That's very wise of you, Diluc," said Father. "I'll definitely get to work on that, then." 

It's only a moment later that Diluc felt himself beaming, the glow of pride in his chest barely contained. "Thank you, Father." And, to stick it to that stupid lingering note to self, he added: "I can help, if you want me to. Let's get it done soon." Kaeya smiled at him, too, a smile of relief. Good. 

"Goodness, Master Diluc offering to help run the Angel's Share?" Elzer chuckled. "What's gotten into you?"

"Well, by no means let it interfere with your Knight duties," Father said. "But if you really want to, then I can show you around how the supply chain works. Our cider is produced near Springvale, actually, though I have been meaning to move the supply chain closer to home. Who knows, maybe we'll have an orchard in a few years. Wouldn't that be fun?" 

Diluc felt his smile falter but managed to not react past that. "Thank you, I'm looking forward to it." 

The way into Mond was slower, this time, and quieter, no pestering or races from Kaeya. He seemed to have decided to give Diluc some space, and that was… fine. It was good, even. At least it gave Diluc a break from constantly swinging between extremes, never quite deciding how he felt.

About halfway through, Diluc finally mustered up the courage to make his proposal, figuring that the damage was already done. "Kaeya."

"Mhm?" 

"Could you take care of my administrative responsibilities as Cavalry Captain for the foreseeable future?"

Kaeya looked sharply at him, an unasked question on his lips. 

Diluc ignored it. "I want to focus on actually clearing out Mond of monsters." Involuntarily, his fingers twitched towards his Vision.

"Ah," Kaeya said. "Focusing on regisvines from now on, are you?" 

It sounded like a joke, but Diluc had no idea what he was talking about, so he didn't answer.

Kaeya stared at Diluc as if trying to decide something– or resist something. "Did you get attacked?" he said quietly. "Were you injured? Poisoned? Is that why you got sick?" 

"No," said Diluc. He probably should have been agitated, but he wasn't. Something told him this wasn't a threat.

"You saw someone else get attacked, then. Did they die?"

"No," Diluc repeated. "You were with me the whole night, Kaeya. You know I didn't go out alone." That was a gamble. After all, if he had gone off alone, it would have come across to Kaeya as total bullshit. In reality, Diluc didn't remember the exact night before his childish consciousness was overwritten. But given how close he'd been to Kaeya... it was a safe enough bet.

He watched the payoff play out as a wash of resignation in Kaeya's eyes. "Well," he said. "In Father's study, or… After you went to bed, you might have..." 

"You would have heard me and followed. You've done it before." That much he knows is true. He has vague memories of Kaeya following him on dark nights when he tried to sneak away. Kaeya had never stopped him, but he'd always been there. 

"You might have snuck one past me."

"Not likely."

"No, yeah... you're right." Kaeya smiled, a particular smile which meant he was confused and frustrated. 

"So. What's your answer?" Diluc said. 

"To what?" 

"Will you take over my bureaucratic duties so I can focus on field work?" 

"...is that an order?" Kaeya said. 

"Do you need it to be?" 

Kaeya looked conflicted. Diluc kept his gaze steady. 

At long last, Kaeya nodded. "I'll do it, if that's really what you want." 

"Thanks," Diluc said. There, then, three birds with one stone. He was free to explore most days, could stay under the radar despite his lack of short-term memory, and Kaeya would be out of his way almost completely. Still, he couldn't bring himself to be satisfied. 

He didn't even show up at the Knights HQ that day, just travelled out, southwards, and destroyed every slime in his path with no problem. His muscles ached from yesterday, but it didn't matter. He wasn't pushing hard enough. He needed to find those damn hilichurl camps—the ones that attacked Father must be around here somewhere. If he just killed enough of them, surely… 

That night, he dreams again. He dreams and dreams and dreams a long dream, that he's sitting there, as the clouds blow like a trailing scarf over Dragonspine. People visit his grave once a week, then once a month. Only Kaeya doesn't come back. Not since last time. Neither does Jean, and the flowers wilt and shrivel, but they don't disappear. 

He is standing there, his feet buried in the soft mulch that grows baby grass, then flowers, unmoving, watching the sky turn purple and blue and orange and purple and blue. He is carried in Kaeya's pocket—secured but not safe, warmed but not warm. He is lying exactly six feet under his own feet and a country apart from his own soul, and the insects are tearing him apart, and his skin is bursting open like a ripe grape underfoot. 

He tries to move, to dig, to walk, to find himself. He tries to reach, but his arm twitched under the covers and as much as he tried to recapture the heavy drifting fracturedness of the dream, he was there, with his nightclothes damp with sweat, in his dark room, trapped in the death throes of his childhood once more. 

Fighting, he imagines himself curled in Kaeya's pocket. Standing on his grave, he finds himself peeking through the keyhole and watching Father pace, his feet still buried in the soft mulch. Fighting someone in his own hands. Diluc making his father's chains. Diluc killing Father to spare Father from Diluc. Diluc in threes, in fours, in infinities, just one infinity. 

There's one Diluc that's never Diluc, and that's Diluc-below-him, under the ground. An empty house. Locked. 

Diluc wonders what happens to him when he isn't him. It's as if he doesn't exist at all, dreams bleeding into reality, the purple-pink sky when he and Kaeya walk into Mond a paper cutout of the sky above his grave. Diluc Ragnvindr, forget not whence thou came. As if he could if he tried. This is real, he tells himself, as Kaeya spoke and he hardly listened. This is real, he told himself. I came from here. Everything else is dream. He can't quite believe it. But it helped. 

"Are you listening?" said Kaeya. 

Diluc just looks at him, unwilling to apologize.

Kaeya sighed. "Diluc, come on." 

He looks around. Somehow he's found himself in the sitting area, near the fire, which was dying down to embers. That's funny. He thought he was in Father's study. "Say it again," he says. "I promise I'll listen this time." 

"Not like this, you won't."

"What do you mean?"

"You're too spacey to even have a conversation. Even Father suspects something. I'm trying to cover for you, but at this rate..."  

"I'll be fine," Diluc says. "I'll be fine by tomorrow night."

"If you're not lying, then I'm glad," Kaeya said. 

"I'm not lying," Diluc says. "Where's Father?" 

"He's out on business right now."

"Good," Diluc says. "Thanks." And he gets up and makes his way upstairs, because he already knows. 

Diluc is standing in his grave dirt when Diluc comes into Father's study, and Diluc looks tired and worn like an old pair of boots, like his old black coat that Kaeya still hasn't been able to throw away. Diluc looks at him and says, why? 

And how to answer that? It's not like he's trying. 

The mornings started to pass quickly, and Diluc barely registered his plan, at this point. It was strange, how quickly everything settled back in, how effortlessly. Now that he remembered where he put his shoes, now that he remembered what he asked Father to do yesterday. It was almost like he belonged here. No, he did belong here. It was his life after all. Still, something snapped him back to reality, something he remembered, like a faraway dream. Like the children playing ball in the street, how he nearly tripped over one and they had laughed at him. He remembered it, distantly. And as they laughed at him and ran off, he stopped and stared, paralyzed by déjà vu. 

He didn't want to think about how damn lucky he was, how far away his old life felt—except for the lavender sky that hung at dawn when he woke from nightmares, which always was the same, a jagged fragment of the past jutting into his life. It wasn't a similar sky, it's the same sky. Didn't matter how different it looked. It's exactly the same.

The clock in his room is ticking. Each little sound is another tap to Diluc's head. Another little crack of pain. What time is it even? 

"...asking about promotion," Kaeya said. 

"Pardon me?" 

"Bro, you seriously need to get more sleep," Kaeya said, but his smile was strained, like, this has to be the answer, because it's the only thing I know how to fix. 

"Sorry," Diluc says, because he knew he was starting to slip away again, and he couldn't do much. 

"For what?" 

He's in Kaeya's pocket, and then he's staring into the harsh sunlight. Above him, the sky is a blue vault, not a single cloud in sight. The moon hangs slightly to the left, pale against the light of day. It is cold. 

Are you… Kaeya starts. Are you there? 

Kaeya waits for an answer, but he won't answer. 

Stop looking at me like that. 

He blinks, and Kaeya's breath catches. He shoves him back in his pocket, deep into the recesses of the rough fabric. Right next to him, Kaeya's taking some deep breaths. He puts his hand on his chest, so he fits into his palm through the fabric. 

I'm going crazy. He laughs. Great, this is the last thing I need right now. 

Sorry for the trouble, Diluc tries to say, but the words pulled him right back, and he opened his eyes in the dawn light, confused. 

Maybe it was for the best that he woke so early. Not that he wasn't expecting it. He hauled himself out of bed and got ready, ignoring how Adelinde was already rattling around in the kitchen as he set off down the stairs. 

"What are you doing?"

He turned around. Kaeya was fully dressed except his eyepatch, just a patch of gauze, more comfortable for sleeping in. 

"I'm getting ready for work," Diluc said. 

"Without me?" Oh. He was joking. That was what the sharp grin was for. Deftly, Kaeya slipped his day eyepatch over the gauze and peeled it off underneath, not revealing his eye at any point.  

"Yes," Diluc said, with a teasing smile that was only mostly forced. And he headed down the stairs without another word. 

"Asshole," Kaeya laughed, clunking down the stairs after him and shoving him—carefully light, so as not to cause an accident. 

"Master Kaeya!" Adelinde called from the kitchen. "Language!" 

And just as quick he slips away again. 

I need you, Diluc says, and he reaches for Diluc. And from the way he's doubled, he slides back into place with a neat click and his vision clears. All of this mechanically, all of this soullessly, a ritual he already has done, a ritual he will do, a ritual he is doing right now. 

He took his hands off and closed the box, put the box in the drawer, shut the drawer, left the room, shut the door. And suddenly he didn't quite know what he had done, or how he knew to do it. 

Kaeya was standing there, looking at him from the other side of the mezzanine. 

"Did you leave something in there?" he asked. 

"Yeah," said Diluc. "Just had to go get it. Don't tell Father."

"As if I would." 

Diluc resisted the urge to ask him to stop. He and this Kaeya, they didn't match. He should give the old Diluc back. Call it a bust. But Diluc-below-him made no home for drifters, not anymore. He wasn't about to share a room with worms. He just wanted a Kaeya who'd lash back if he was cruel, not look hurt. He wanted a Kaeya that fit the Diluc he'd become... two bitter, angry, invulnerable people... he wasn't making sense. 

"I'm going out to patrol," he said. 

"I'll come with you," Kaeya said.

"Thirteen days?" 

"Uh, yeah," Kaeya said. "Thirteen days. What, did you miscount or something?" He laughed, tossed a chestnut into his mouth and shuffled his feet on the stone. 

"I… guess so." But a tight panic was invading Diluc. Thirteen days. What the fuck had he been doing for thirteen days? Had he been living his life without noticing for thirteen days? Where had he been, where had he gone? He sure as fuck wasn't here. "You're sure?"

"Since you got sick? Yeah, thirteen days, 'cause it's Friday, and you got sick last Sunday." 

Thirteen fucking days. Thirteen days, and Diluc knew why without knowing why. That was almost half the month. If this happened again… 

He needed that damn Delusion. There was no way he'd get anywhere like this. But how would he get it past Father? Fuzzy as he was, the prospect of planning for it seemed overwhelming on its own, and there was no way he could rope Kaeya into this. There was covering for him at the Knights when he was off doing… whatever he's been doing, and then there was that. 

"So you're awake again," Kaeya said. 

"What?"

Kaeya crunched down on a chestnut. "You've been acting like a zombie, Diluc. I thought you were… I don't even know. But I'm glad you're back."

"I don't know if I'll be back forever," Diluc said. 

The thing about Kaeya's expressions was that Kaeya wasn't as good of an actor as he thought. He was just a little nonstandard in his expression, but once you learned exactly which little quirks signified different things, he was an open book—so when Kaeya's face went blank, Diluc read, clear as day: fear.

What are you so afraid of? he wanted to ask. Everything about me that matters to you is already gone. 

"Why not?" Kaeya asked, in a languid tone that might as well have been pushing Diluc up against a wall and demanding answers. 

"I'm…" 

He didn't know. But it was certain. Sure as the night was long, if he didn't get that Delusion he'd be gone.

So many ways to be honest. I'm dead, I don't belong here, I'm sick. He hadn't realized how damn sick he was. He'd thought it was grief, but it ran deeper, didn't it? I'm sick to death, Kaeya. I feel insane. I think I'm doing it to myself.

He could just tell Kaeya the truth. 

Except, no. Kaeya would attack him. Things would be too unpredictable, and it wouldn't be helpful, and… excuses, excuses, and not even good ones at that. He didn't want to tell Kaeya. And what was so wrong about that? Kaeya belonged at arm's length, far away from the core issue of it all. Why tell him? Just so he could get the upper hand again, go over Diluc's head and take control with superior information? Not a chance. There was nothing wrong at all about wanting Kaeya to stay out of his business. 

He just needed the damn Delusion. That was all. It wasn't necessary to fuck around with the timeline on the off chance that it'd be more pleasant. It didn't matter how pleasant it was. He'd just do what was necessary. 

He swallowed. "I don't know. I just have a weird feeling." And that, too, was honest. 

"If you leave again, will you come back?" 

Diluc looked out across the battlements, out into Mond's terraced countryside, and exhaled. His breath was slightly misty. It tore away from his lips and flew off into the wind, over the roofs of the city.

When Kaeya spoke his voice was mild, but firm: desperation. "Well, maybe it's a Vision problem. We should bring this up with Master Crepus and see if we can get you some medical help, and for now we'll both take a break, and I'll…" 

"It's okay," Diluc said. "There's no need."  

"Diluc, seriously."

"Seriously," said Diluc. He reached over and put a hand on Kaeya's shoulder, looked him in the eye. "I have it under control."

"You promise?"  

And because he wanted to believe, it was so, so easy to lie. "I promise," Diluc said. 

Kaeya inhaled lightly, as if he was about to say something, but he just slung his arm over Diluc's shoulder. Diluc leaned into him despite himself. Kaeya was warm, and the wind was chilly. 

"Let's head in," Kaeya said. "Don't you have work to get done?" 

"Yeah," Diluc said. "I do." 

Kaeya got up, exhaled and surveyed the countryside one more time before turning back to Diluc. "At least you've been making yourself useful," he said. 

"What?" 

"Look. No hilichurls anywhere." He gestured around, and it was true. The rolling fields were untouched. 

Diluc rose as well, feeling the soreness in his legs as he approached the edge of the wall. "Have I been fighting?"

Kaeya glanced at him for a moment. "Are you kidding?"

Ah. Diluc laughed and the noise echoed hollow in his chest. "Come on, let's get going." 

Kaeya followed behind him as he descended the ladder, but he didn't look happy about it. Still, he flanked Diluc as they approached the Knights HQ. Joyce waved at him, and so did Connor, who was chatting with a long-haired woman down the street. Diluc smiled and waved back, practiced by now at pretending he cared, ignoring how they never looked at Kaeya, all too aware of how he and Kaeya were seen as a unit—never one without the other. He passed Nadja, who was making a sale to a small child with russet hair. She gave him a sweet smile, and he waved back with the hand that held the remaining chestnuts before eating them with a satisfying crunch.

As he headed into the Knights HQ, he passed Emil, who was holding a book and…

A little silver bird statue. 

Diluc stopped short and stared. 

It somehow managed to look crudely made and finely crafted at once, all its intricate machinery and the red gems on its back ruined by its nasty little triangular head and the beetle-like shape of its folded wings. And Diluc recognized it. Oh, yes, he recognized it all right. It may not have had the Fatui symbol stamped in black on its wings, but he'd spent a week clearing them out of Mond during that ordeal with Dottore and the sick girl, and he was familiar enough.

He turned to Kaeya, halfway through a motion towards Emil—then he remembered that Kaeya didn't know anything about the birds… yet? Anymore? In this timeline? 

No matter.

Diluc started off in the opposite direction, a certain ire growing in his chest as his gaze fixed upon Emil's retreating back. "Emil!" he called. "Excuse me! Emil!" The bastard was ignoring him! He bumped into a few people, but got to him quick enough, caught his shoulder. "Emil." 

Emil turned, a polite little smile of irritation on his face. Up this close, his skin was unsettlingly smooth. "Captain Diluc! What can I do for you?"

"Where did you get that bird? It's gorgeous," Diluc said, pointing to the thing in Emil's arms. He swallowed, reminding himself that Emil couldn't read his nerves, nor his anger. He reminded himself not to jump to conclusions too quickly. After all, if that traitor Enoch had lackeys, better to wait and get them punished slowly.

"Oh, this?" Emil's face broke out into a shy smile, and he held it up, clicked something on its underside. Inside, some sort of machinery rattled and it fluttered its wings, letting Diluc catch a glimpse of Electro-purple crystal inside. Its nasty little eyes gleamed in the sun. "This was given to me by Madame Pelletier, as thanks for hosting her so well! I think it was made by some sort of famous jeweller in Fontaine, I didn't ask… Do you want me to look into it for you?"

Oh. So that's why he recognized the name. 

"Ah, no, that's fine," Diluc said, still keeping his eyes fixed on the curve of its wings, as if he was fascinated. "I'll talk to her myself. Do you know where I could find her?" 

"She's resting right now in preparation for the move to Springvale," Emil said. For whatever reason there was a certain amount of pride in his voice. "Her last appearance will be at the banquet tomorrow, and I'm afraid I can't let her be disturbed other than that. I'm sorry, Captain, but I can bring it up to her if you're interested…" 

"No, don't," Diluc said. "I'd much rather do it in person. The banquet is tomorrow, you said?"

A tiny frown started to grow on Emil's face. "It's a rather exclusive event. I'm afraid most Knights aren't invited. I'm only there as a representative…" 

"That's alright. I'll ask around, then. Thanks for the help, Emil." 

"Of course, it's no problem…" He saluted Diluc and hurried off. 

Diluc could feel Kaeya's presence behind him, and when he turned around, he was there, looking rather confused and a bit amused. "Planning to make a purchase?" Kaeya said. "I didn't take you for the type to go for trinkets like that. It's kind of ugly, isn't it?"

Diluc glanced after Emil, then nodded carefully. "Let's get back to work," he said. "Sorry, I got sidetracked."

"No worries." Kaeya stretched, like a cat. "Less time doing paperwork for me. When are you gonna let me back in the field?"

"Saturday," Diluc said. "I'll be too busy to join you, though." 

"Oh? What's Saturday?" 

"I'm going to the banquet." 

Chapter Text

When Diluc knocked on the door to Varka's office and entered, Hertha was already there, pacing up and down before his desk. She glanced up as Diluc came in, but didn't seem to pay him much mind. Varka stayed seated, his hands folded.

"Good afternoon, Captain Diluc," Varka said. "Is there anything I can do for you? An emergency, perhaps?" One eyebrow quirked upwards. 

"Well, sir, it's not urgent, but–"

"Why didn't you make an appointment, then?" 

Diluc took a step back, staring down at the carpet. "My apologies, sir. I will." He bit back the disgust at having to bow and scrape to a Knight. 

"No, no. Better to have it out now while you're here." It was unclear if Varka was angry, mocking him, or genuine, but Hertha sure did look impatient. 

"...Very well, sir. Ah, I was wondering if I might be able to attend the diplomatic banquet the day after tomorrow as a representative of the Knights. I feel that the Cavalry Division is lacking in civilian rapport, and so…"

"Ah, I see." Varka's voice was warm.

Diluc's eyes flicked upwards. "You do?" 

"Of course I do! And it's perfectly understandable. For all of your immense skill, Captain Diluc, for you are someone I respect, you are still seventeen. I can't blame you for wanting to go to a party." As Varka gave him that same warm, steady state, Diluc's stomach grew hot. "I'm afraid, though, that a diplomat's banquet is no place to fool around, and I don't want the Knights to have an overpowering presence at what's supposed to be a Church affair. Emil and I will be the only ones attending. I hope you can understand."

If Diluc was still just seventeen he might have stuttered and gaped, but not this time. He stared steadily right back at Varka, despite the burning indignation in his chest. He shouldn't have expected better from the Knights of Favonius. "I assure you, sir, I am not going to fool around. My only intention is to further Mondstadt's wellbeing." 

"Be that as it may, the Seneschal ordered that there be two spots for Knights at the banquet. My presence is non-negotiable, but you may take it up with Emil, if you wish. I suggest you do not trouble the Seneschal." 

Diluc's eyes narrowed. "Very well, sir. Thank you."

"Not at all. You're dismissed. Now, Hertha..." 

As Diluc pushed open his office door and emerged into the bustling hall of the Knights HQ, Kaeya pushed himself off the wall next to the door and did a lazy little salute. "How'd it go?"

"Bad." Diluc pressed his lips together. "Condescending. I'm going to talk to Emil."

"Do you really think he's going to let you have his place? He looked a little too into being Madame Pelletier's attendant, if you know what I mean." Kaeya snickered. "I can poison him if you want." 

Diluc smiled as well, though it was distracted. "You're right. I don't know."

"Well, damn, either you find a way to convince him or you don't go to that banquet." 

"Maybe I'll go to the Seneschal." Diluc headed for the door, musing to himself. "It's by his order that there are only two spaces…"

"Whatever you do, you need a more convincing excuse, that's for sure," Kaeya said. "What did you tell him?"

"That the cavalry is sorely lacking in foreign affairs," Diluc said, pushing his way out the door into the warm sunshine.

"That much is true." Kaeya caught the door before it swung shut and followed. "Why don't you think Varka bought it?"

"I don't know. I thought he trusted me, but this was a pretty strange request, after all." Diluc turned to Kaeya—and then did a bit of a double take, because Kaeya was smiling, an excited, boyish smile. As soon as he spotted Diluc looking at him, he quickly hid it and tried to look casual and distracted, but he knew Diluc had seen it, and Diluc knew he knew.

Hesitantly, Diluc smiled back. "I'm going to talk to Emil," he said. "Why don't you finish up your paperwork and we'll reconvene?"

"Sure." Kaeya was still smiling. "See you later."

Emil was waiting in the lobby of the Goth Grand Hotel, as Diluc predicted. He was kind of loitering there, a bouquet of flowers in his hand, presumably waiting for Madame Pelletier to come down or at least answer his summons. Luckily for Diluc, then, he was trapped here. No time to waste.

Diluc walked right up to him. "Emil. Good afternoon."

"Captain Diluc!" Emil saluted him. "Fancy seeing you here… Did you have any luck finding the jeweller?" 

"Actually," Diluc said, "I've been meaning to find some way to attend that banquet. I really would like to improve the public relations of the Cavalry Division, and I think making a request in person would be the perfect way to do it. Varka said there were only two spots, though, so… I was wondering if you could do anything about it? Or refer me to the Seneschal, maybe?"

Emil's expression snapped closed, and Diluc got a bad feeling. "I'm sorry," Emil said, "but the Seneschal's a busy man, and he told me not to trouble him about this again... I'm afraid my presence at the banquet is non-negotiable…"

"It is?" Shit, this was a long shot, but… "Couldn't I take your place just this once? I'm really so passionate about that gorgeous little bird." 

"Listen, Captain," Emil said. "I understand you think that Madame Pelletier's time is dispensable at the least effort, but she is a busy woman… This banquet is for the diplomatic benefit of Mond, not vying for political power between divisions. If you want better foreign relations as Cavalry Captain, you had better work for it yourself, if you catch my drift. In any case, I'm busy. Please don't trouble me again." 

Diluc didn't even bother returning to the manor when he got home, just headed straight out into the woods. When he reached that clearing he went to town on the trees, hacking and crushing the trunks until splinters flew and his stomach settled a little.

Son of a bitch. Of course Pelletier was a Fatui plant. If only he hadn't spaced out for thirteen days like an idiot, maybe he'd be able to attend that banquet before they left, but he did, and he couldn't, and they'd be leaving the day after tomorrow and Diluc didn't even know what they looked like enough to tail them, so he would have no leads and no nothing until the goddamn fight with Ursa. He swore under his breath as he took his frustrations out on the trees, widening the clearing and carving a swathe through the forest, and probably ruining his claymore in the process. 

After a while, he finally calmed down, the buzzing in his hands and head subsiding and leaving him… rather empty. He returned to that boulder and sat down, leaning his sword against it and putting his head in his hands. The stone was warm and mossy, rough on his skin in the late afternoon sun. 

He had to think. There still had to be a chance, somehow. Pelletier was a solid lead, a good lead. If he could get to that damn banquet… convince Varka to let him in, somehow, convince Emil to leave it alone… there was no way he would, though, was there? Maybe he could sabotage Emil… no, that was stupid, and cruel besides…

"Diluc?"

Diluc stiffened and looked around.

Again: "Diluc? Are you around here?" Father. The voice echoing through the trees was Father's. Diluc grabbed his sword and went to meet him, but before he could even clamber down off the boulder, Father showed up, a flash of red hair and pale skin through the dappled forest. He spotted Diluc and waved. "Hey!"

"Father!" Diluc rushed to meet him, claymore in hand. "What are you doing out in the forest alone like that? What if you came across a slime?" 

"Oh, I can take care of myself against one measly slime." Father chuckled. "I'm not the worst fighter in the world, you know."

Diluc remembered the Delusion and saw red, but he swallowed it down. "Regardless, you're a civilian. It's irresponsible to be wandering around alone, especially closer to Dragonspine. What are you doing out here?"

"Why, I'm looking for you!" Father wandered over to the boulder and leaned against it, beckoning for Diluc to do the same. He did, and they both fell silent. 

This was wrong. When he should have been feeling—oh, he didn't know, relief, maybe, or overwhelming love, gratefulness for his second chance—Diluc only itched for him to leave so he could practice. Maybe he should ask about the Delusion, see if he could get his hands on it before he slipped away again. But, no… too suspicious.

"So… why are you looking for me, Father?" 

"Hmm." Diluc could be misreading things, but he almost looked contemplative. "Kaeya told me you've been acting strange and joyless ever since you got sick."

Damn it, Kaeya. Still sticking his nose in where it didn't belong. "...I suppose," Diluc said. 

"I've noticed it a bit too," Father said. "I don't think it's fair to Kaeya to put the burden of worrying for you on his back alone. That's why I'm here."

"What about worrying for Kaeya?" He couldn't even manage to say it proudly, so ashamed of the blatant misdirection.

"Are you worried about Kaeya?" 

"Only insofar as he's stressed out about me."

"So you know you're acting strange," Father said. 

"Yeah, he's brought it up a few times." 

"Why is that, son?" Father said gently. "What's wrong?" 

Oh. There it was. Diluc's throat ached. He wanted to say it was nothing, but he didn't trust himself to speak. 

"I know you think that your problems are too special and different to tell me, but they're not. Everyone feels that way, especially as a teenager. I promise, whatever it is, we can work on it as a team. As a family. You, me, Kaeya, Adelinde, Elzer, everyone. Everyone here wants to support you." 

"I don't want to worry you…"

"But why?" The confusion in Father's voice startled him, and he glanced up. Father's eyes were soft. "If there's cause for worry, by all means, let us be worried. Let us help. Don't you trust us?"

The answer was easy. I love you, but no. But of course he couldn't say that. It wasn't their fault that they didn't understand the gravity of the situation, and giving them information would only lead to meddling. No matter how difficult the path before him, he would walk it, because it was what needed to be done. Wasn't that what virtue meant? 

The next step forward, then, and possibly one of the most painful, besides the end. Lying to Father. 

It was painful, but it was easy, and it was painful how easy it was. "I'm sorry, it's just… work has been incredibly much as of late, and when I got sick a backlog of work piled up and it's been… overwhelming. On top of that, I want to improve the cavalry's social standing, but they simply won't let me attend this banquet, they think I'm being frivolous when all I want is to protect the citizens of Mond." When all I want is to protect you, Father. 

"Ahhh, I understand," Father said. "That sounds tough. Especially given how sick you were, I'm sure you don't feel in top condition yet either." 

"Yes, clearly. I still feel under the weather." Not that it was anything new. He hadn't felt fully well in… Barbatos knew how long. 

"Mm," Father nodded, staring down at the base of a fallen tree. "To tell you the truth, your illness scared me rather a lot."

"Really? It was just the flu..." 

"Well, yes… it's just that you were fine one moment, and the next you were so sick, Kaeya said you could barely speak, it's…" Father sighed. "It reminded me of your mother, that's all." 

Diluc's gaze stayed fixed on his hands. "Yes," he muttered. "Seems all I do lately is worry people." 

"I'm sorry," Father said sheepishly. "I don't mean to make things awkward. I suppose what I'm trying to say is… I'm glad you're okay, and I love you very much."

What hurt the most was that Diluc couldn't say I missed you. 

It wasn't fair. Diluc tried as hard as he could, but he couldn't resist the quiet sob that forced its way out of his throat. He brought one hand to his mouth, as if he needed to block the words from coming out. I missed you. I missed you. I missed you. Maybe if he thought it hard enough, it would stop hurting. 

"Oh, my son," Father murmured, and pulled Diluc into a warm, tight hug. He smelled like old books and aging barrels and some sort of soap fragrance that Diluc had never been able to find again. He smelled like Father, and Diluc could only press himself closer, knowing it would never be close enough. "It's alright," Father was saying. "You're a wonderful Knight and an even better brother. It's everything a father could ever ask for. I'm so proud of you, Diluc."

No, Father. No. I failed you. I failed everyone. But he couldn't say that either. Diluc's heart hurt. Outside of Father's grasp, the air was cold on his skin. He pulled back, fixed his hair, his collar. Laughed a little, lest he start to cry again. "Sorry," he said. "I've just… I'm stressed."

"Don't worry about it," Father said. "As long as you take care, hmm?" He ruffled Diluc's hair.

Diluc viciously swallowed down another round of tears. If he let it come up again, he didn't think he'd be able to stop for days. "I'll do my best," he said, with a pathetic attempt at a smile. 

"In any case," Father said, "is there anything I can do about your workload? Anyone I can talk to? I know I don't have much influence but…"

"It's alright," Diluc said, and sniffled. "It's just Emil and Varka, they're crowding me out of the banquet. I think if I could go there I'd be okay, I… I don't know." 

"Emil, huh? He's coming to Angel's Share tonight." 

Diluc blinked. "What? How do you know that?" 

"He comes every Friday night," Father says. "Orders a pizza and a nice rosé, usually Lisha or… in any case, you don't care about his order. My point is, he'll be there tonight." 

"Yes," Diluc said, his tears forgotten, "but he told me not to speak to him again…"

"Diluc," Father teased, "were you harassing poor Emil?"

"No! He was very prickly about the banquet, that's all," Diluc sputtered. 

"I could try, if you want," Father said, patting Diluc's arm. "Maybe I could talk some sense into him?" 

"No! No, no, that's… that's fine… I'll find another way…" He'd have to tail Emil, then, if possible… the Goth Grand Hotel… 

"You're such an upstanding young man, Diluc," Father said, his voice warm with pride. "I'm proud of you for sticking to what you know is right."

And his voice was warm, and his hand was warm, and he was there, solid and alive, trying to help his son, the best man, the best father anyone could ask for. Diluc turned to him and watched his kind brown eyes sparkle in the sun, let his eyes run along the slight grey of stubble along his jaw, and he thought— 

And he thinks—

Father, I would do anything for you. 

And Father wouldn't want him to, but damn it all, he would do it anyway. Diluc swallowed, and swallowed again, hard. "Right," he said. "It's fine. Let's head back, right? I don't want to worry Kaeya." 

"Not so fast," Father said, hopping off the boulder and heading for the trees. "Look at those mushrooms. Let's pick 'em, eh? We're running low."

"Um, sure." Diluc wiped his face on his sleeve and hopped off the boulder as well, walking over to where Father was bending over to pick the mushrooms. They were big white parasols. Edible. Diluc had had to eat them raw to survive once after a botched vigilante mission left him stranded in the wilderness overnight, he remembered, and he'd accidentally eaten a false parasol instead and made himself… sick… 

Wait a moment, these were false parasols. The bottom gills were that characteristic shade of dull green, he recognized them. They weren't deadly but they were nasty. And poor Father, rich and clueless as he was, was picking them with not a care in the world.

"Don't eat those," Diluc blurted out, reaching to grab them out of Father's hand. 

Father looked up at him, raised an eyebrow. "Why not?" 

Diluc looked from Father to the mushrooms, the mushrooms to Father, and he thought, Barbatos, forgive me. 

"Um– I just meant that you had better not eat them all on the way back, so no snacking." 

"Oh, you're conscientious, Diluc! Alright, I'll be sure not to touch them." Father got up, his arms full of mushrooms. "Let's head back, then." 

"Yeah," Diluc said, his voice a little strained. "Let's head back." 

When they got in the door, Kaeya glanced up at them from where he was doing some of Diluc's paperwork on the dining room table. "Took you long enough."

"We were picking mushrooms!" Father said happily, heading for the kitchen. "Tomorrow's dinner, don't you think?"   

"Mm. Sounds fun." A cursory smile, and Kaeya turned back to work. Father entered the kitchen. The door swung shut. 

Diluc walked up behind Kaeya and peered at his work. It was a patrol roster, half-full. Diluc was not signed up for any rotations. Diluc put his hand on top of it, and another on Kaeya's shoulder.

Kaeya glanced up at him. "What's up?"

"Those are false parasols," Diluc said. 

"Why didn't you tell him?" 

Diluc looked Kaeya in the eye and made the tiniest motion towards Mondstadt. "I'll take your paperwork tonight, I'm sure you're busy."

Kaeya's eye glittered. "Thanks, I appreciate it." 

That night, Diluc got a message from Varka. Apparently, Emil had eaten something nasty, and would be too sick to attend the banquet tomorrow night. In his absence, Varka had decided to let Diluc attend as the second representative of the Knights of Favonius, with a plus-one of his choice. He apologized for the short notice and hoped Diluc was still interested. 

Diluc was, in fact, very interested. And so was his lieutenant. 

Diluc told Father that Varka had changed his mind, but he didn't tell him why. His congratulatory smile made Diluc feel as sick as those damn poisoned mushrooms. 

He dreams again. 

He prefers these dreams, because he's not alone. It's the sky or the pocket or the grave, the grave or the pocket or the sky, always the sky. He prefers the pocket dreams. It's nicer this way, there's more to look at, even if it's just Kaeya, older Kaeya, ragged beaten Kaeya, dogged in his revenge. He reminds Diluc of himself.

In any case he dreams that Kaeya is entering a bar, by the sound of it. Drafty, chilly place. People are speaking all around in a language he doesn't recognize. The floor creaks, weak wood. Kaeya heads to the bar and sits down, orders quickly. Someone pours him a drink. 

Yo, barkeep! 

Good afternoon, the barkeep answers. Say, is that a Vision? 

...Yes, in fact, it is. Kaeya's voice is silky smooth. Why, are you interested in a purchase? 

No, no. He chuckles. I'm not nearly rich enough. Clashes with the hair a bit, doesn't it?

It's not mine, Kaeya says. I'm keeping it safe for someone. 

Ah, interesting. Anything I can get for you? 

Did a man come here recently? Hooded uniform, looked Snezhnayan, a little suspicious–

You mean Diluc? the bartender asks. 

Kaeya goes still. Pardon me? 

That's the name he gave, the bartender says. Said his brother might follow him. I guess that's you, but you two don't look like brothers. 

Kaeya's voice is buttery smooth again when he responds next. …Yeah, we get that a lot. He's adopted. Where did he go? How long ago? 

A few days, the bartender replies. He said you'd know where to find him. 

Kaeya slides out of his chair. Thanks . The jingle of Mora being tossed on the bar. Keep the change. Have a good day. 

A noise of surprise from the bartender. Hey, thanks, man. 

Kaeya heads out, out, out the door, into the cold, out of town, into the woods. He heads out, out, out, until there's nobody around. 

And then he screams with fury, and Diluc jolted awake, every inch of him heavy with a sense of violation. 

Chapter Text

The banquet hall was full of life and sound and music, dresses and suits of all colours, and Diluc stood at the entrance, stunned by it all. He tried to stare into the crowd, but it gave him a headache, and he felt direly the lack of Vision on his chest and knew this was a mistake.

"Well," Kaeya said from beside him, "I'm gonna work the crowd. Good luck." And then he vanished. 

Diluc had been great at parties. He'd been amazing at them, playing the room, flowing between the different guests and greeting everyone and everyone thought he was such a polite man. It was just that he can't handle it now, that was all, it was just that he was so muddled he can barely keep his times and lives straight, never mind the guests milling around in the hall. It was just this damn Delusion, if only he could get situated, he could… he could… 

"Captain Diluc! So kind of you to attend, I'm so glad you came!" Varka swept up behind him and clapped him on the back, and Diluc bit down hard to stop himself from jumping. 

He took a breath and smiled. "Grandmaster, so good to see you. Thank you for inviting me, I appreciate it. How are you enjoying the party?"

"It's just fine, for me. I expect I'll like it better when there's food, eh? Wine?" Varka offered him a glass. 

Diluc held up a hand with a polite smile. "No thank you."

"Oh, right, I forgot! You're not of age!" Varka roared with laughter. "My apologies, Captain! You passed my secret test with flying colours, though… kidding! Alright, alright, I'll leave you. Enjoy the banquet! Oh, and that's a fine suit!"

"Thank you, that's very… kind…" Varka was already gone. Unprofessional as always. 

Diluc glanced down and straightened his bow tie, wondering how hard it would be to fight in this thing. He'd fought in a suit before, of course, but never anything so tailored… he'd had his own choice of clothing, after all, whereas this time Father had supplied him the suit and tied his tie, fixed his hair and told him he looked great. 

"Cavalry Captain Diluc," a woman said from beside him. "Good to see you here, I feel much safer." With a joking smile. 

Diluc turned to look at her and didn't remember her name at all. "Glad to hear it," he joked back. She was… clergy, right? "How is work?"

"Oh, it's alright," the woman laughed. "We're selling alright, and there are lots of prospects in Springvale, so we might be moving out of Mond soon. I sure will miss the security of the Knights' oversight, though…" Okay, so not clergy. 

"We do have a relatively solid presence in Springvale for eradication of monsters, so I don't think you need to worry," Diluc said. "Cheers." 

"Yes, see you around!" The woman gave him a sloppy little salute and drifted off into the crowd. 

Diluc tried to move on and look for the infamous Madame Pelletier, but before he could spot her, he heard another voice behind him. "Captain Diluc! Well, don't you look nice!" 

He whirled around and found himself face to face with two young women about his age, one black-haired and one brunette, both in rather elaborate dresses. Ah, suitors, if he remembered correctly. They hadn't even left him alone after he came back to Mond. The black-haired one was sort of… leaning towards him in a rather leery way, but the brunette seemed respectful at least. 

"Fancy seeing you here!" The black-haired one said. "Are you here on your own time, or…?"

Diluc felt himself slipping back into his usual charming bachelor routine, and he let it happen with not a small amount of relief. "No, unfortunately. I'm here as a representative of the Knights of Favonius. You two look charming! Are those dresses new?"

The brunette nodded with a small amused smile, while the black-haired one burst into laughter. "Of course it's new, silly! I wouldn't go to such an important banquet in an old dress. I designed both of them, but I'm afraid I've been upstaged. Have you seen Madame Pelletier yet? Oh, she looks gorgeous, you have to." 

"I haven't," he said with an ingratiating smile. "I'm sure she's a treat, although I'm not sure how she could upstage you two."

The brunette rolled her eyes, still smiling. Another burst of laughter from the black-haired one. "Flatterer. Are you going to the next ball?" 

"I don't know, I'm rather busy fighting these days…"

"Oh, you and your fighting! Why don't you take a while to enjoy the city life, huh? I'm sure the city won't fall apart if you take one night off. Why don't you attend the dance in May? Oh, there's this wonderful musician playing, he does all the old ballads, so romantic." She was creeping closer now, and Diluc realized he needed to get out of this conversation before it ate up his whole night. 

Just as he was struggling for a response, like magic, Kaeya appeared next to him. "Hey! Well, if it isn't Teresia. Is this guy bothering you?" A joking glance at Diluc. 

Diluc shot him a look of gratitude. The brunette saw it and giggled, which was a little embarrassing. 

Teresia, the black-haired one, laughed once more. "Sir Kaeya, you are ridiculous sometimes. I was just saying to Captain Diluc that there's this great dance in May."

"Really? I would be honoured to go with you, if you'd have me." 

"Ooh, yes please! It will be gorgeous, Sir Kaeya, I promise you that. The music's going to be all the old romantic ballads, the atmosphere will be incredible. And the dresses!"

"Ah, the dresses! Yes, I've heard that the fashion from Fontaine is just magnificent these days."

"Yes!" Her eyes lit up. "You know, they've started to widen dresses so much that the puffs no longer hold in their sleeves—they use wires. Isn't that clever? And their corsetry, well, the craftsmanship is just amazing. In order to make a dress, there's this architecture, you see, it actually requires some math."

"Hit me."

"Well, it's all about weight and sturdiness. You have to pay attention to the silhouette and wearability. The fabric…" 

Kaeya, smiling and listening with genuine interest as far as Diluc could tell, flashed Diluc a thumbs-up and waved him away. With a sigh of relief, Diluc turned away. Kaeya was always better at bringing out the best in people, anyway. The brunette was still looking at him. No matter, he'd excuse himself and leave. 

"Um, excuse me…" Oops. Diluc didn't know her name. 

"Karoline. You wanted Pelletier, right?" She held up a finger to him, then her eyes lit up as she spotted something on the other side of the room. She pointed him towards the right corner. "Blue dress," she said. "Big brooch. Good luck." 

Diluc blinked, and his smile became slightly less fake. "Thank you," he said. Karoline gave him a shy smile and wandered off.

Diluc began to make his way through the crowd, scanning for Karoline's description of a woman in a blue dress and big brooch. And there she was, near the centre. Her dress was designed to look like crashing waves, it seemed, all angular like stained glass. Her hair was platinum blonde and pulled back in a rather severe bun. Good—now he could pick her out from a crowd... A slower approach, then. The ability to track her was already a plus, and now he'd probe a little into the birds and Springvale...

Diluc pushed his way towards her, excusing himself to the various guests he had to nudge out of the way, ignoring people saying his name, pretending he didn't hear them… 

…and then Madame Pelletier was right before him, and he realized that wasn't a brooch, it was a Delusion. 

He swallowed his hatred. "Good evening. Enjoying the banquet so far?"

She looked him up and down. "I don't believe we've met before," she said, with no trace of an accent anywhere. "Sara Pelletier." And she held out a hand.

"Cavalry Captain Diluc Ragnvindr, of the Knights of Favonius. It's a pleasure." Diluc took it and kissed it graciously. Her skin was cold. "I'm afraid I'm the replacement for Emil, who couldn't make it… such a shame."

"It's not your fault," she said, as if Diluc had apologized to her. "Likewise, a pleasure to meet you. I hear you were looking for me."

"Ah." Shit. "Did Emil tell you?" 

"Yes, but he refused to tell me why." A distant smile. "Well, you have my attention. What is it?" 

"I've been meaning to ask you about that wonderful bird you gave Emil," Diluc gushed, putting on a practiced glimmering smile. "The craftsmanship is so delicate, and those beautiful eyes! Where did you get it? You must give me your jeweller's address." He watched her carefully, with rapt attention. 

As expected, her smile stiffened—just a little bit. "Ah, that one. Yes, it was made to special order by a skilled watchmaker in Fontaine. I'm afraid it was quite expensive."

"Oh, price is no object. Madame Pelletier, please, I absolutely must have one."

"Are you a collector, then?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"Oh, yes! Well, an amateur, rather, but I simply can't help myself when I see fine jewellery. Your brooch, too, it's simply divine…"

But Madame Pelletier's gaze hardened, and Diluc knew he'd gone too far. "Quite," she said. "Well, I'm sure I'll see you later at the table, hm? A pleasure, Captain." And then she was gone. 

Diluc stared at the empty space where she used to be, cursing his own arrogance. He scanned the room to see where she was going, but all he saw was blue fabric disappearing around the corner of the door as she left. 

Shit. Well, at least he knew her appearance now. Time for plan B… as soon as he managed to escape this infernal banquet. He'd sleep, and then he'd go to Springvale.

He is standing in his grave, and the sky is a beautiful, cloudless blue. Everything is quiet around him except the buzz of the crickets and the sighing of the trees. The sun illuminates his gravestone, his pristine, well-kept gravestone. Fresh flowers lie at its base. An unstained pearl of a day, and he spends it all alone. The sun sets to a cold night, and again, and again, and again he's alone, on a perfect day. 

As his mind slid out of sync, slowly losing touch with the reality of the dream, he knew he wouldn't be getting back to sleep. Not with this paralytic loneliness over everything. He got up, grabbed a few wires from his desk and quickly, silently, left the house. 

Madame Pelletier, as Diluc expected, left just after sunrise. All the better that he woke up early, then, because now he was here to watch her get into her carriage from his place behind the perfectly manicured hedges of the Goth Grand Hotel. The hedges were exceptionally damp and unpleasant this early in the morning, and the prickling didn't help. His clothes, though he chose the thickest ones he could, were still not enough to protect him from this infernal twiggy hedge. 

Luckily, he didn't have to wait for long. Her carriage rattled away as the first hint of sun peeked over the horizon, by the looks of it, and from then on it was a careful balancing act of climbing, hiding and blending in to make sure he wasn't visible to the driver. His hood hid his bright hair, at least, which would have been a dead giveaway, but it would still be better if they never suspected anything at all. 

He needed to see their place in Springvale. If they were doing anything suspicious, it was certain to be there. Besides, it was on the way to the Winery. And so, as they rattled down the road, he consoled his damp, exhausted self with the idea that he could be home and eating breakfast in as little as an hour. 

Getting across the bridge was slightly worrying, but not all that much of a problem. There was already a slow trickle of workers going in and out of Mond in preparation for their day, so it wasn't that hard to slip into the crowd and come out the other end still following the carriage. 

It was a nice carriage, Diluc mused as he slipped into the treeline. Solid, very stylish. He bet it was commissioned by the Church for diplomats. It looked kind of like the one that got incinerated during the Dottore incident. The horses were nice, too… or maybe it was the tedium of hiding that made him think a ride sounded like a fun idea. Maybe, if he had time, he'd go riding with Kaeya. Down to Windrise, or the Whispering Woods, or sneak across the river to Liyue like they used to do as kids… no, he didn't have enough time. He was busy as it was, already April 15, only two weeks before his birthday. He needed to solve this by then. He could go riding with Kaeya after he saved Father. No, what was he thinking? He didn't want to hang out with that spy anyway. It was his old habits slipping back in… 

He hoped his Kaeya is okay. He's hunting down Diluc's killer, isn't he? Diluc wondered how he knows what Diluc's killer even looks like… no, he had been there, hadn't he? He had been there when Diluc had died. He must have seen it. Yes, right, Diluc remembered that dream, Kaeya doing CPR. Right. It felt so long ago.

But Kaeya's in danger, now. The fact that the killer has stolen Diluc's name seals the deal. It's a trap, and if Kaeya falls into it, he's gonna die too… Shit, Diluc was getting a headache…

–and what was the point of thinking about it anyway? Kaeya will die or he won't, and it was none of Diluc's business since he didn't have stakes in that timeline anyway. It was the stupid dreams messing him up, but he could deal with the stupid dreams. It didn't matter whether that Kaeya lives or dies. It mattered whether this Kaeya did, and this Father, and this Mondstadt. If that Kaeya wanted his Diluc back, too bad. Their relationship was long thrown to the dogs and Diluc had already moved on to greener pastures. Specifically, this pasture. He still didn't know what to do about the traitor situation, true, but he'd figure it out. 

The carriage ground to a halt outside Springvale, on the south side nearer Dragonspine. Diluc stopped just in time to avoid being seen by Madame Pelletier as she stepped down and out of the carriage. She looked tired and rather less put-together than last night. Still, she glanced around, then called the driver to bring the carriage back to Mond and headed off alone through the bushes. Diluc crept along behind her, extra careful not to snap any twigs underfoot. She didn't seem to notice anything, but then, maybe it was a bluff. 

She made her way over to some shack-looking building tucked into the side of a hill, unlocked it with a key which she produced from seemingly nowhere, and went in. Diluc crept forward and pressed himself close to the wall, next to the side door, listening carefully. There were a few thumping and clicking noises, then: "Progress?"

"Yes," answered a rougher, younger voice. "I've got five or six done, but I'm gonna need more materials."

"I'll get you your materials," Madame Pelletier promised. "Let's see it."

"Yes, Madame." Footsteps towards the door. Shit. Diluc looked around at the trees, but they were too sparse to hide in… damn it all. Okay, they were out front now, and coming around the side by the sound of it, so it was too late to run. There was one more option. He could go in the side door as they left the front door. He checked the side door– 

There was a padlock on it. He was an idiot. He fumbled in his pockets for his wires, bent them with fumbling fingers. The footsteps approached—stopped—they were chatting—any second now. Head in the game. If he failed too badly he could always run away—no, she had a Delusion—he'd fight her, then, as long as they didn't see his face—shit, he didn't remember a mask. No, head in the game. He stuck in the hook and started. Nothing on one or two, but three was binding, click, four, five, back to the start—coming closer—shit—one's binding—one, two—it popped open, and Diluc dashed through the door into the dark, shutting it with both shaking hands so it was quiet. The padlock would stay unlocked but it'd have to do. He thanked Barbatos for such a shitty lock. He turned towards the other door–

There was no other door. In fact, he found himself in a damp, dark stairwell, leading down and down and down. 

Outside, Madame Pelletier. "That's strange, the lock…"

Diluc dashed down the stairs, as quickly as he could. He didn't have time to look around, just dove into the nearest cabinet and shoved himself up past the door into a tiny alcove, doing his best not to breathe hard. The wood of the cabinet pressed against the top of his head, and distantly he wished he was slimmer so he could fold easier into this sort of place. It was better with a young body, but far from comfortable. 

The door opened. "...won't tell anyone, then. Alright." Two sets of footsteps tapped down the stairs. 

Diluc closed his eyes and steadied his breathing and his hammering heart, putting a gentle hand over the Vision on his belt. Whether he opened his eyes or closed them, it made no difference. It was completely pitch black. From the fabric brushing against his knuckles, though, it seemed to be some sort of wardrobe. He leaned back and prayed silently that they wouldn't check his hiding place. This was a stupid idea. This was a stupid, stupid, stupid idea. And now he was in too deep. It was a familiar feeling, though. He had often found himself in situations like this. He'd get out. There was no way he was going to succumb to the mercy of Sara fucking Pelletier and her Fatui lackeys. 

"...results," the lackey is saying, in that rough voice of hers. "They're moving well. Emil's is malfunctioning, but I think I can..."

"That's fine. I may have a much better host for a second one, provided he wasn't lying." Madame Pelletier's voice is calm and serene, and there's the marble sound of Visions clacking against each other. No, Delusions. Shit, there were Delusions here. 

"Why would he be lying?" Footsteps over to the wardrobe. Diluc held his breath. The door opened… 

Nothing happened. The fabric against his knuckles slipped away, and the door closed. He barely stopped himself from exhaling in relief. 

"I don't know, something about him seemed… off." Madame Pelletier makes a noncommittal noise. "In any case, nothing has changed. This looks fine. Thank you, Esfir."

"Yeah, no problem." There was the sound of fabric rustling. "Let's go, I need to get that lock checked out." 

"Hmm. Are you sure we shouldn't check around?"

"If a non-Delusion user came in here, I'd know it," Esfir scoffed. "Trust me, Madame."

"If you say so," Madame Pelletier said, and their footsteps tapped back up the stairs, and the door opened and shut behind Diluc.

Diluc waited another moment, then let out a heavy breath. He was going to have an issue if they locked the padlock behind them, but it sounded like Esfir was taking it with her. That was something, at least. Slowly, carefully, he emerged from the wardrobe and took a look around.

The room was dark, but he didn't dare light up his Vision in case that detection magic Esfir was talking about would pick it up. As it was, though, the room was faintly illuminated by the multicoloured glow of the nine Delusions mounted on the wall behind him. 

They were pretty much normal Delusions, at least at first glance, but they had an interesting inlay of metal that looked familiar surrounding them… he approached a bit more, glancing around. Except for the Delusions it looked a bit like a watchmaker's workshop, full of pens and microscopes and jars of metal polish and blueprints that he couldn't make out in the dark. A shelf full of those metal birds rested in the corner—seven complete, one incomplete. These ones were stamped with a black Fatui symbol. Diluc reached over and carefully pulled one's wings apart. Inside was a bright Geo gold crystal. The next was the same, and the next, and the next. He walked around the desk to get a closer look at the Delusions—and his breath caught. 

That inlay. He recognized it because he'd worn it. Each Delusion was mounted carefully onto a metal ornament on the back of a black right-handed fingerless glove. Just like Father's. 

He reminded himself to breathe despite the twisting pain that ricocheted up and down his spine, from his dizzy head to his stomach. He felt sick, but he didn't touch the workshop. He clenched his fist, took a deep breath. Then he took another. There would be plenty of time to end these bastards once Father was safe.

Speaking of which, this was kind of perfect. He could steal a Delusion and use it instead of Father's if he was up to the risk. Of course, he'd have to confiscate Father's before Ursa, but for training, this was ideal. Still… it didn't feel right. As he reached for the reddest Delusion, he feels sick to his stomach, and the room spins around him. He stopped, closed his eyes against the ringing headache. Swallowed. 

This wasn't his Delusion, was the problem. He wasn't standing in the basement room, staring out into the dark. No, he's in Father's study, peeking through the keyhole, and the light was streaming across the floor, and Father is asking if anyone found Diluc yet… 

He shook his head and was back in the cellar. No, he couldn't take these. But Father could. 

With that, the invisible wall broke, and the Delusions welcomed his touch, hungrily. He grabbed the nearest red one and bolted, holding onto the unfamiliar weight of it as he scrambled up the stairs and out the thankfully unlocked door. There seemed to be nobody nearby, but he didn't take any chances, just sprinted off into the woods, not caring who he ran into in Springvale, knowing that he needed to get out of here. The Delusion seemed impossibly heavy in his pocket. 

He slowed down as he approached the Winery, looking out carefully for anyone looking for him. Luckily, there was nobody around the right side. He looped around back, sprinted across the lawn, grappled his way up the wall to the roof, clambered across the roof to the centre, dropped down from the beams to the balcony, and slipped in the window. 

Thankfully, there was nobody in Father's study. He took out his makeshift lockpicking tools and strode over to the desk drawer, where he waited. He bent down and picked it thoughtlessly, pulled it open. Picked the lock on the box. And he pulled out the Delusion, his Delusion, and smoothed out the stolen one from his pocket and placed it gently into the box, shut the box, shut the drawer, and slipped out into the hall, into his room. 

Safely shut in his room, he could finally pause and take a breath. His limbs were aching and his lungs cramping, and as he looked in the mirror, he realized he looked like an absolute mess, wild-eyed and red-faced, his hair a total mess and his hood all askew. Still, his Delusion was clutched tight to his chest. There was that. There was always that. 

Carefully, he pulled open his drawers, changed into normal clothing and shoved the darker clothing under his bed to wash later and put his lockpicks back in his desk. He fixed his hair, too, though he couldn't do anything about his wild, tired eyes and his obviously flushed face. He slipped the Delusion into his inner jacket pocket, clambered out the window, dropped down onto the back patio, and walked around to the front of the Winery to go in the front door. 

The moment he walked in properly, all he could do was be thankful that he'd swapped the Delusions beforehand while he still had freedom, because Father was already grilling him. "Diluc! You're home! Where were you?! Kaeya's out looking for you! Did you skip breakfast?"

The constant whiplash between concern, confusion, and anger was giving Diluc a headache. All he could do was stutter out some pathetic lie. "I– I was working! I was working, I just got started early! I was fighting slimes, Father, calm down!"

"O...oh. Really?" Father's grip loosened, and he smiled, baffled. "Are you certain? Kaeya seemed pretty certain you weren't where you were supposed to be this morning."

"Yeah." Diluc managed a sheepish grin in return. "He usually walks me to work… so… but I didn't want to wake him, since I left at dawn."

"Ahhh, I see. What were you up at dawn for? And why are you working on a weekend? Honestly, Diluc, your sleep schedule is all over the place these days." But he was just teasing now. "You should at least leave a note next time."

"I'm sorry, Father. I had a nightmare, I was agitated at the time."

"Ahhh. Well, if that ever happens again, come find me instead of massacring the poor slimes, why don't you?" Father gave him a warm smile. "Come on, now, you must be starving."

He wasn't wrong. Only now was Diluc noticing how badly his hands were trembling. He smiled, relieved. "Of course. Thank you."

Father led him through the hall into the kitchen. As soon as they crossed the threshold, though, Diluc was accosted all over again.

"Young Master Diluc!" Adelinde said, glancing back from the pot she was tending. "You're going to cause problems, disappearing out of your bed like that. Where have you been?"

"Out fighting," Diluc said, and took a deep breath. The smell made his stomach churn. Not that it wasn't delicious, it was just too much, all broth and carrots and sausages like any good eintopf, and he felt dizzy just smelling it. He had no idea how he was going to choke it down. 

"Hmm," Adelinde said. "You could have left us a note, you know." 

"That's what Father said."

"Well, he's right." But she's as bad of a pushover as Father, and she's just good-natured now. She ladles out a bowl of soup and holds it out to Diluc. "Enjoy."

"Thank you, Adelinde, this smells amazing," Diluc said, taking it and turning not to breathe too hard. Sure enough, eintopf. "May I have a spoon?"

"Here." Father's already holding one. "You missed lunch. Do you want to eat at the table, or…?"

"No, thank you… I think I'll eat quickly on my own and then go find Kaeya," Diluc said, and as he said it he knew it was true, even though he hadn't thought about it beforehand. "It wouldn't be right to leave him wandering around searching for me."

"I'm sure he'll return soon," Father said, "but fair enough. Enjoy." He patted Diluc on the back, a nearly intolerable sensation, and left. Diluc nodded at Adelinde and left out the back door, sitting down to eat on the patio. He tried hard to ignore the trembling exhaustion in his limbs, the restless agitation, how he was freezing cold despite his jacket. The fact that the food in front of him made him want to throw up. He stared down into the slurry of chopped-up food and tried not to compare it to anything disgusting. 

It didn't matter. 

That fucking Delusion factory. He couldn't believe he hadn't found it in the last timeline. No, they'd probably dismantled it. Oh, and that craftswoman made the birds, too, probably. So she was part of the long chain of people who'd killed Father. Fuck! Right under his nose. What he wouldn't give to return there in the old timeline, see if there was still anything there—but he'd take what he could get here.

There was the question of his hardly-flawless entrance and exit. The lock, the missing Delusion… but none of it could be traced back to him, except… 

Shit, his boot prints. He forgot to disguise his boot prints. Oh, Archons, knowing how thorough the Fatui were they'd hunt him down with that and his shitty alibi. It wasn't so much the actual fight he was worried about so much as the fact that it'd change the timeline. In hindsight this whole thing was idiotic, but he couldn't go back and put the Delusion back, they'd probably already discovered it was missing and besides, he needed his Delusion, needed it like he needed danger to calm his nerves. 

How did Father even get his Delusion? It was a question Diluc had thought about before. Well, before, before. Had Madame Pelletier given it to him, or was there some sort of supply chain? Were there more civilians in Mond with Delusions, waiting to die? He had to look into this further. No, he didn't have time, but fuck, if Madame Pelletier was giving out Delusions to civilians he'd slit her sinewy little throat, fuck diplomacy and fuck ethics and consequences be damned. 

Diluc managed a small bite of carrot. It turned to mush in his mouth. With difficulty, he swallowed it, and felt a little better. He stared down into his bowl, then got up and started to pace, back and forth on the patio, his legs too restless to sit still. It felt like Electro, energy building up and crackling through him. He paced and paced, hoping to find some relief. With difficulty, he recognized the beginning of the restless drifting feeling, too, his mind pulling inexorably away. He barely resisted the urge to hit himself for a grounding pain. Already he's seeing that dawn sky hanging above him like an omen of doom, already he's feeling Kaeya's breath in his chest from his pocket. He shook his head, shook himself. He was here, he reminded himself. He was here. His fingers found the Vision on his belt and held on, and things solidified a bit. 

He needed Kaeya. 

He wasn't sure where the thought came from, but the moment it came up he was certain it was true. He needed Kaeya. Needed him now. Kaeya was the only other person who understood all this bullshit. He'd spent a week clearing those damned metal birds, passed along the information, Diluc's Vision in an ugly vase. Fine then, he'd go find Kaeya.

Diluc sat down and finished the rest of his eintopf in three or four large spoonfuls, then headed out, his stomach churning. He swallowed. It was lost in his ears. He didn't even bother to fetch his claymore, just plunged into the forest. He knew. 

By the time he got to the clearing he'd widened with his sword, his stomach settled a little bit. He saw it in a glimpse through the trees, and wasn't surprised: blue hair, curled up atop the boulder, thinking to himself. Kaeya. Thank Barbatos. 

He strode into the clearing, empty-handed except for the Delusion in his pocket. At the sound of his footsteps in the grass, Kaeya turned, reaching for his swords—then dropping his hand, his expression going first relieved, then angry, then settling finally into that familiar shiny shell of charm, if a rougher and less polished version of it. "Diluc. I guess there's no point in asking where you've been, then?" 

"I was fighting slimes," Diluc said.

"Yeah, right," Kaeya said, turning back around. "And here I thought you were starting to trust me."

Diluc approached him. "Kaeya…" I found a Delusion workshop. I know who killed Father. I need your help to stop them. Help me with the Fatui, help me with Ursa. Help me live here with you. 

"What is it?" Kaeya said.

"I… don't… know." Diluc can't feel what's going on, whether he was still shaking or not. Everything feels off, and there's a gnawing in his stomach different from hunger. He wants to keep pacing, but he stopped himself. "I guess I…" He tried to tell him about the Delusion workshop, but his whole being buzzed and he could hardly hear himself say, "I don't know," in a voice that didn't sound like his own. 

Kaeya nodded and patted beside him on the boulder. Diluc scrambled up alongside him, though his arms and legs protested the effort. 

He glanced at Kaeya, but Kaeya was staring off towards Dragonspine, a craggy peak in the distance, blue and indistinct with the day's humidity. So Diluc stood there atop the boulder and didn't move.

"You didn't even look for me," Diluc said. 

"You would have been mad at me if I did."

That much is true, but Diluc keeps his mouth shut and tries not to think about it.

"If you can't tell me what's wrong could you at least tell me why?" 

"I don't know," Diluc said. "But this is something I think I have to do."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

"I don't get it, Diluc. Just tell me what's going on. I've said it a million times and I'm getting sick of asking. What are you so afraid of?"

"It's not that easy…" 

"Why not? What, exactly, is stopping you?" 

Naïve, naïve Kaeya. He'd learn, if things continued along the same road, eventually, that sometimes things were just impossible because they were impossible. 

I wish you were my Kaeya. I wish I was home. His eyes fixed on the craggy blue peak of Dragonspine and resolved, and it was like he could see every snowflake on the whole mountain. 

He looked away. 

This was home. Last time, he hadn't been home since his 18th birthday. No place in the world had been his home. And now that he had it again all he wanted to do was throw it away. And for what? An older Kaeya who didn't give a shit? A life he'd ruined? What was the point in missing it? Everything sucked there. At least here, when things sucked, it was Diluc's own damn fault. 

"...Diluc?" 

"I'm going out again." Diluc hopped down off the boulder, refusing to meet Kaeya's eye. "I probably won't be back for dinner. Just wanted to let you know I was safe. See you." 

"Take care of yourself," Kaeya said. 

Diluc closed his eyes for just a moment. Then he turned and ran back to the Winery. He could feel his heartbeat in the Delusion. His head hurt. It was a conversion problem, that was it, like integrating the first time. It was just that his brain was getting used to being one instead of whatever the fuck was going on before that.

He'd plan. It was fine. He climbed the stairs two at a time, fled into his room to fetch the notebook with his plans in it. He paged through it furiously—musings on Father, on battle plans, on Delusions, point-form critical information from the dream— How did I die??? underlined several times—when did he even write this?—threw the notebook on the bed, grabbed his claymore and stalked out of the room, down the stairs, through the kitchen, out the house. Spotted the bowl on the patio, took it and returned it, back out the house, then in, out again. Fixed his hair, fixed it again, fixed his sword. His blunt sword he forgot to sharpen. Shit. Turned towards Mond to get it sharpened and got about halfway to Springvale before some indescribable feeling yanked him back towards Dragonspine. 

On the way a few anemo slimes accosted him—he more crushed than sliced his way through them, incinerating them without a hint of second thought, didn't even use his Delusion. He'd have to be careful about that. Father would suspect, Madame Pelletier would suspect, if anyone saw, if they knew, they already knew he was acting suspicious, they knew he wanted to go to the Banquet, what if they tracked the bad mushrooms to him? What if Emil found him out? And his footprints, his damn footprints, his pathetic alibis. Oh, Archons, he was being so blatant, he was fucked. What was wrong with him? He used to be able to… 

Another swarm of slimes. His sword heavy, rough on his palms, burning with Pyro that didn't warm him. He was sweating, still electric and restless. He needed to do something. They were too damn small, that's the thing, too damn small and quick and easy and even when it was hilichurls there were too many of them and he needed to practice on one strong opponent, damn it, they were all too weak, he just couldn't get the hang of what he was supposed to do but if he winged the battle then Father would– Father would– Diluc felt sick, he shouldn't have eaten the rest of lunch, he leaned against a tree, expecting to vomit, but it didn't come up and he couldn't sit still long enough to wait. 

Damn it, damn it. Something was wrong. He felt wrong. All of this was wrong. It was that goddamn room, that's all. It was that goddamn room, as his steps turned back to the Winery, as he climbed the stairs on shaking legs, as he grabbed his crumpled clothes from under his bed, changed, out the window, fled. It was that goddamn room with those goddamn empty Delusions staring at him, staring at him, empty, hungry, waiting to eat him up. He couldn't trust them. It was this Delusion, his Delusion, yes, they were friends, only them, and those birds, he'd get rid of them, get rid of Esfir and Madame Pelletier and ethics be damned and consequences be damned and he'd get rid of them and then they'd be gone and it would be fine. 

He stalked through the woods around Springvale with no regard for snapping twigs, found the shed again without even thinking. He stared at the shiny new padlock on it. Fumbled in his pocket. 

He'd forgotten the wires. 

The door splintered easily enough beneath his blade, groaning loudly as he kicked his way through the wooden shards. The grey light of day filtered down into the dusty workshop. Diluc lunged down the stairs, and his Delusion flared.

He could barely hear the sounds of the instruments smashing and crushing, could barely feel the glass shards grazing his cheek, over the sound of his own breathing. In a minute, the workshop was finished, beyond repair. For the finishing touch he cleaved the worktable in two, and then, gritting his teeth against their discordant screaming, he snatched each Delusion, ripped them off the wall, tore them out of their gloves and threw them on the floor. He smashed them—again, again, again, stomping on them, panting, sweating, but his feet slipped off of their round shells and his sword bounced off with a hellish screeching noise of metal on glass no matter how hard he worked to smash them to little tiny bits.

In the end he was standing there panting, his sword dented and blunted and battered. His hood had slipped off in the carnage, and there he stood, exposed in the dim light. The Delusions stared up at him, accusingly pristine. 

A creak from behind him. He whirled around, but the doorway outside was empty. And all of a sudden he knew. 

He grabbed the Delusions. They screamed again, but he didn't care. He gathered them in his arms and folded them into his hood, and he fled.

He blinked and was on the Falcon Coast, his legs aching, his heart hammering, the Delusions still clutched in his arms—eight, and his own in his pocket. He didn't drop any. He was standing on the edge of the cliff, plunging down to the roaring sea. He looked down at the Delusions in his arms. They were screaming so loud he could barely think. 

With a scream of his own, Diluc threw them into the sea, watched them tumble down, down, down, watched their candy-coloured marble surfaces bounce and disappear, swallowed under the surface of the waves. Then his legs buckled under him and he collapsed in the grass, heaving for air. Not a single thought in his head, just a distant roar and the noise of his own ragged breathing. Dragonspine loomed over him, pressing all the air down, thick and heavy. He was shivering in the cold wind. 

He got up and went home. 

When he got into his room, he reached for his notebook, but his notebook wasn't on the bed. And it wasn't in the desk. He checked everywhere, under the bed, under the dresser, in the closet, in every pocket. 

Nothing. It was gone. 

Father, then, or Adelinde… no, they wouldn't… Kaeya? No, couldn't be… but… 

He collapsed onto his bed, every inch of his body buzzing with some undefinable energy, and buried his head under the pillow with a groan, trying in vain to ignore how doomed he was.

Chapter Text

He sank into the dream gratefully, feeling the suffocation melt away. 

Kaeya's climbing Dragonspine, up on the western slope. Standing in a snowbank in a sheltered crag, overlooking the rest of the country, with Diluc clutched in his gloved fingers. His breath fogs in the cold, but it's a clear day, the sun glaring off the mountainside. A few wispy clouds, illuminated by the bright white sun, drift across the horizon, and the pine trees are made thick and round and heavy by heaps of snow that shed glittering flakes to the ground. In the distance, the warm orange roofs of Mondstadt. Each colour is vivid, alive, sharper-edged than before. 

Kaeya sighs and sinks down into the snowbank. The packed snow creaks quietly against his coat. I don't get why he hangs around here so much, he murmurs. 

He falls silent, as if waiting for a reply. None comes, just the wind's distant howl.

I'm sorry, Kaeya says. Am I boring you? An airy laugh. 

You're all alone, Diluc thinks. 

I guess I'm all alone, Kaeya sighs, freely. I know we'd be yelling at each other if you were still… here. He looks down, and then, petulantly: All the same, I don't know what you were expecting from me. 

The wind howls again, but it's musical, like someone is blowing over a bottle. 

Maybe you were just being stubborn, Kaeya says. You couldn't admit you were wrong, could you, Master Diluc? You still had skin in the game. Well, it's over now. You can apologize, I promise I won't be mad. Let me call you my brother again, that way I can get more pity points when I tell people I watched you die. It's the least you can do for the inconvenience.  

It's beautiful out here, Diluc thinks.

It's beautiful out here, Kaeya says. It's the kind of thing that people put in pretentious flowery poetry, I love that sort of thing… so of course you would have hated it… ha ha. 

I'm sorry, Diluc thinks. I miss you. 

Kaeya presses his forehead to Diluc's, warm skin on cold glass, and lets out a shuddering sigh. I should get up. He laughs. I refuse to let my death be that ironic, and besides, I've got a lead now. Don't worry, I'll end that disrespectful bastard. All in a day's work. He heaves himself out of the snowbank, and as he moves through the clear, cold air, Diluc tries not to slip away but he opened his eyes in the dark. His sheets were damp and under his pillow, his hand was clutching his Delusion tight. 

He groaned in dread, quietly, and then closed his eyes again. Maybe if he fell back asleep he could stay a little longer.

"Damn, you really fucked this one up," Wagner said. "What did you do to it?" 

Diluc stared flatly at him. "Can you fix it or can't you?" 

"Hmm." Wagner examined the wreckage of Diluc's claymore. "This is pretty unsalvageable. Guess I could recycle the metal into another sword."

"Good," Diluc said. "Do that. I'll be back tomorrow." He tossed his Mora on the table and turned to leave. 

"Oi, oi, wait a damn minute," Wagner said, catching Diluc's shoulder in one gloved hand. Diluc winced, thinking of the amount of grime on those gloves, but didn't complain. "We need to sort you out a replacement."

"I'll take the sword from the recycled metal." Diluc tried to leave again.

"Not so fast," Wagner said. "You've got a Vision, right? Let me make you a sword that'll suit you properly."

"Whatever you want," Diluc said—and then he stopped and thought for a second. "Can you make it channel energy?"

"Well, sure. Got some new stock in that does just that. Gotta warn you, though, it's expensive." Oh. Diluc should have known he didn't just propose that to be nice. Typical. Well, if it fit… it was a question of...

Diluc turned back to him. "Can you make a sword that's durable, ideally pretty light, and channels energy well? I care more about how hard it is, so make it brittle if you must."

"You mean… a really good sword?" Wagner scoffed. "Yeah. Pay me." 

"Alright, if you can live up to the payment." Diluc dug around in his pocket, doing some brief calculations in his head. But then… it was fine. This was worth the money. Any leg up against Ursa was worth the money. He counted out the rest of the Mora, stuck them in the bag and onto the counter with the previous payment. "I'll be back tomorrow." 

"Yes sir," Wagner said, a little sarcastic. 

After Diluc had walked a decent distance away, he turned to look at Wagner. The man was still at the desk, seeming baffled by the 2,000 Mora he now found himself with. 

It had better be a decent sword. 

Diluc nodded to himself and stalked off towards the Knights HQ, keeping a careful eye on the crowd, one hand in his pocket clutching his Delusion. Nobody around seemed too suspicious—no hidden faces, no Visions he didn't recognize. Still, he was bare without his sword, no matter how smashed up it had become the day before yesterday. If whoever that witness was came after him now, he was fucked. Unless it was Kaeya. Especially if it was Kaeya. And it very well might have been. 

Damn it, damn it all. He shouldn't have trusted Kaeya regardless, what was he thinking? He just couldn't help himself, could he? Well, no more. He'd just have to be vigilant—this wasn't a damn pleasure cruise through his childhood. He had to do things right. And if that meant making Kaeya look like a kicked puppy every once in a while, well, Diluc would… he'd… 

Meanwhile, the notebook was still missing. Which indicated that the witness not only knew who he was, but had broken into his house—or was a member of the household—or that there were multiple conspirators. Maybe Kaeya, but again… he'd searched Kaeya's room top to bottom. On the other hand, he'd not turned up any signs of Kaeya being Kaenri'ahn, either, so clearly a search wasn't infallible. He didn't want to think about any of these options, but it was inevitable either way that his secret and possibly his life was in danger, so…

His head hurt. It felt like he was being torn in two. 

He needed to stop thinking about Kaeya. 

The notebook, that was the most important thing. He had no leads on the cryo user who witnessed the Delusion workshop's demise, so he'd have to be on guard. They didn't see his face, anyway, and for all they knew Father was the only red-headed, long-haired Delusion user in Mond. Oh, Archons, what if they went after Father ? No, no, he had to keep his head in the game. There was no point in worrying about that now, and besides, if worse came to worst Diluc would protect him. The point was, he needed to find that damn notebook before someone figured out the cipher. It wasn't all that crackable but still, letter frequency and pattern recognition, if someone was just persistent enough, it wasn't impossible…  

Diluc kept on guard even as he entered the Knights HQ. Jean greeted him from across the hall with a smile and a wave, and, now practiced at pretending, he smiled and waved back. It was only eleven o'clock. He was exactly on time. 

He walked over to Varka's office and knocked on the door. 

"Come in!" Varka's voice was unreadable. 

Diluc entered, saluting. "Grandmaster Varka, I received your summons." 

"Ah, Captain Diluc. Right on time. Please." Varka gestured for him to stand in front of the desk. 

He did, his footsteps a muffled thump against the carpet, trying to keep his shoulders straight. "What can I do for you, Grandmaster?"

"Aha… Ah, Diluc. What to do with you?" Varka folded his papers away and leaned his chin on his hands. Craaaaap. 

"Uh," Diluc said, and then mentally kicked himself. "...Sir?"

"The banquet. What happened, my boy?" 

The banquet? Shit, right, the banquet, did they– Archons, Emil. Did they find him out? But how? Diluc tugged at his gloves. "I don't understand. I attended the banquet as requested."

"I'm talking about Madame Pelletier," Varka said. Well, at least it wasn't Emil. "Word is she left right after talking to you, without even staying for the food. What did you say to her, Captain?"

Oh. He hadn't even thought of that. Uh. Well, the truth would do… he could pretend to be innocent… yes, he'd even said that to Emil. The only one who might pinpoint it as weird might be Kaeya or Jean and they… they wouldn't. As much as he hated it, he had to trust they wouldn't tell. "I just asked her about the bird she gave Emil and her jewellery, sir. I don't know why she left."

"Hmm. That's a shame," Varka said. "My apologies. I know you were planning to use that as an opportunity to improve public relations."

"Yes, sir." 

"Would you like more funding?" 

….What? 

Diluc tried not to let his surprise show on his face. Clearly he failed, though, because Varka chuckled. "Oh, come now, don't look so surprised! I know, I gave you a little scare. I'm sorry, Captain. I would like you to be a bit more tactful with our guests, but by all appearances it was not your fault, and Sir Kaeya was absolutely top-notch. You went to all that trouble to build public relations and yet, you came up empty! That doesn't seem fair, so I'd like to offer you more resources to improve your company, since you're clearly a driven and passionate Knight, one of the gems of the Order. You deserve it, Captain." 

Ha. Diluc didn't bother hiding his smile, but he tried to make it friendly rather than derisive. "Thank you, Grandmaster, I appreciate your faith in me. Still, I do believe I have everything I need… Oh, except one thing."

"And what would that be?"

"I know it's a bit selfish, but recently I've been putting all of my paperwork and management on Sir Kaeya's shoulders and focusing my energy on clearing Mondstadt of enemies. I think this arrangement is working well for me, but I haven't been exactly above board about it… I'd like to legitimize myself by bringing it to your attention." Diluc resisted the urge to cross his fingers. 

"Oh, of course, of course! Not a problem at all. That's a good strategy, Captain, although rather unorthodox. You should let Sir Kaeya have a turn sometimes, though… he's a wonderful fighter."

Diluc smiled a smile that he didn't feel. "I know."

"To tell you the truth," Varka whispered, leaning forward, "I think he'll be blessed by the Vision. I mean, not yet, but he has that look about him, you know? Don't tell him I said that." 

A brighter smile, which he felt even less. Not if I can help it. "I'm glad you think so too." 

"Alright, alright, I've taken enough of your time." Varka smiled. "Go on, get back to business! Godspeed, Captain Diluc." 

"Thank you, sir." Diluc started to leave. 

"Oh wait, one more thing! Captain, wait, there's one more thing." Diluc turned back and Varka was rustling around in his desk again. A moment later, he held up an envelope with some sort of elaborate calligraphy on it. "This came for you from Madame Pelletier. It looks like they've taken a diplomatic interest in you! Good luck." 

Diluc's stomach dropped. 

Varka's eyebrows quirked upwards. "Is everything alright?"

"Yes," Diluc said hastily. "Yes. I'm fine. Thank you, sir. I'll see you later." He took the envelope, saluted and left, pushing his way through the hall with one hand and clutching the letter to his chest with the other, keeping an eye on the crowd just to be certain. He slipped out of the door and fled around back of the Knights HQ, where he pressed himself against the wall and held the envelope up to read. 

Cavalry Captain Diluc Ragnvindr of Mondstadt, it read, in curling calligraphy that made his eyes hurt to read. 

He held it as far away from himself as he could as he opened it, but it didn't seem to have any nasty surprises, magical or poisonous or otherwise. Just two pieces of paper. He took out the first one. 

Captain Diluc,

Please excuse the curtness of our meeting during the banquet. I was preoccupied at the time with some other business, as I'm sure you're aware. However, I found myself quite impressed by your dedication and subtlety. So has my assistant, Esfir, who met you in passing. In order to build a closer relationship between Fontaine's bureaucracy and your company, I have managed to pull some strings and set up a sort of exchange. 

Starting a few days from now, we will send in a young recruit from our contacts in Snezhnaya to train and aid in your company's valiant efforts to clear the land around Mondstadt of potential threats. He has been a very successful fighter this far and I hope you will find yourself satisfied with his abilities. You will be expected to monitor and guide his progress. His file is attached for your convenience. Enjoy. 

Sincerely, 

Sara Pelletier

Diluc searched through his pockets for the Delusion, clutching it until he was calm. 

Snezhnaya. They were sending in a Fatui agent for Diluc to monitor, and he'd bet on his life it was going to be a spy, someone who'd obfuscate his efforts. Not to mention all those not-so-subtle jabs at his covert operations: he counted four. So she did know that he was the one to destroy the workshop, and this was her way of striking back. And it was her assistant that saw him, not Kaeya… 

But that didn't matter because Kaeya wasn't to be trusted anyway. Diluc had seen the error of his ways and he was not going to make the same mistake twice, or rather three times? It was hard to quantify trust.

In any case, he might as well familiarize himself with the file. He pulled it out and unfolded it—and immediately choked. 

Staring him in the face was a mugshot of a boy labelled only "Recruit B8-683." His hair was bright ginger, his smile was cheery, his eyes were dead, and Diluc recognized him, because within four years he'd be a Harbinger of the Fatui.

Kaeya's studying in the library. Some part of him is always moving—his feet, his fingers, tapping endlessly in aimless patterns as he scowls at the page. It's not a book, just a stack of parchment covered in writing and loose sketches. Kaeya is squinting at the spidery script, looks annoyed. He always did have a problem reading messy writing. Diluc's perched beside him on the table. 

Kaeya's hand is resting close to him, tapping, tapping, tapping. The candle flickers. The library is quiet, lonely, timeless except for Kaeya slowly making his way through his papers. Occasionally Kaeya stops to make his own notes. 

Behind him, a door creaks. Without missing a beat, Kaeya folds the papers and hides them in a battered but cared-for copy of History of Kings and Clans, opens it to a different page. He rests his hand carefully over Diluc. Diluc can see through the gaps in his fingers. 

It's Jean. The soft orange light suits her well, as she comes up around the corner behind Kaeya. Have you eaten? 

Hm? A distracted dullness in Kaeya's eye as he looks up, but it's a lie. He's tuned in completely. Atop Diluc, his hand is still. 

Have you eaten? Jean repeats. It's almost five. 

Um. No. Kaeya rubs his eye, not moving his other hand. 

What's that? Jean asks. 

Kaeya's hand comes off. Diluc gets a clear look at her face, closer now, concerned. 

Kaeya…

Wow. He laughs, as if Jean is being silly. You never let up, do you? Give a guy a break! 

What are you reading? 

He shows her the book.

That's not the library's copy. 

No, it's mine. Kaeya puts it away, along with the papers. It's nice in here, that's all. You said something about food? 

Ah, yes. I'll pay. 

How kind of you! Kaeya gets up, reaching across the table–

I'll take care of that. Jean's hand catches his wrist. 

Jean, Kaeya says. Come now… 

What are you doing with that, anyway? I thought it was long gone. 

It resurfaced, Kaeya says mildly. 

Tell me you're not using it. 

I'm not that big of an idiot. Kaeya's voice goes quiet with just a hint of raw pain, a picture-perfect vague sadness. Actually, it's anger, but Jean never quite got the hang of his idiosyncratic expressions in the same way. I just like to keep it around, it… feels like him, you know? 

Didn't he leave you his Vision? Why don't you carry that around instead? 

Because it's empty. It reminds me of… well, the Delusion is alive. And for the first time, a touch of genuine emotion. Can't you feel it? Sometimes… like right now, it's… 

Kaeya. Jean's voice goes soft and mournful. Let's get dinner before you leave again, okay? 

Kaeya says nothing more, but Jean doesn't stop him as his hand reaches out. Before Kaeya touches Diluc, though, he jolted awake, feeling vaguely ill. Out the window, the first rays of light ventured over the horizon.

Chapter Text

Between fighting, work, looking furiously into any other Fatui connections and dodging Father and Kaeya and the rest, the next few days passed alarmingly quickly. Kaeya did not seem especially happy that Diluc was dodging him, but, well, tough luck. Diluc wasn't in the mood to pretend everything was cool anymore. 

By the time Diluc had a chance to take a breath and take up his plans again, even without that infernal notebook that he wished he'd never started, there were only eight days left before his birthday. 

He tried his best not to think about it. Best to live his life, he figured. He was already training his ass off, and he'd be able to better prepare a little closer to the day of. For now, he had to secure more of a future for his family, no matter how it wasn't for him. 

And that meant doing his job. 

And that meant going in today and meeting Recruit B8-683, soon to be Childe.

Which he really, really, really did not want to do. 

Diluc was, unfortunately (?), late for work after decimating the beginnings of a hilichurl camp near the Falcon Coast, so he was already pretty sweaty and out of breath by the time he ran up to the Knights HQ, several minutes late—enough to be noticeable, anyway. He pushed his way through the hall, knocked on Varka's office door, tried to straighten out his hair and clothes, and entered.

There were already two people there. One was a tallish man, pale with short sandy hair. The other was… well, the boy who would later be known as Childe, choppy-haired, dark-eyed, lean, all teeth and nails. They turned as Diluc entered. Childe's face twisted into a predatory grin. 

 Diluc bowed deeply. "Grandmaster, esteemed guests. Thank you for waiting. I am Cavalry Captain Diluc, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Cavalry Captain Diluc," Childe repeated, still grinning. His voice was boyish and silky, like Kaeya's. 

"Captain Diluc," Varka said warmly, "will be your supervising officer as you work with the Knights of Favonius. Both of you, let me know if you have any problems. Now go on, go get to know each other! Don't let me get in your way." He shooed them out of the room. As the sandy-haired man turned to go, though, Varka said, "Not you, Mr Kiselev. We have some paperwork to do."

"Excuse me, Grandmaster," Kiselev said. His voice was much deeper than Diluc was expecting. "As the recruit's handler, I cannot…"

"Oh, never mind that," Varka said, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. "This is the city of freedom. Our children don't have handlers."

"Be that as it may–"

"If you intend to live in Mondstadt, you must understand and respect our culture," Varka said, a careful warning in his voice. "I'm sure you understand what I'm telling you, Mr Kiselev. Recruit, Captain, you are dismissed."

"Yes sir." Childe grinned, looking particularly sharp-edged. "Come on, Cavalry Captain Diluc. Introduce me to your team, will you?" 

Diluc pressed his lips together, but nodded in agreement. "Thank you, Grandmaster." And he turned and walked out into the hall, Childe hot on his heels. 

As soon as the door closed behind them, Childe was on top of him, asking him more questions. "Alright, can I call you Diluc? Where's your team? What do you guys even do here?" 

"No. Outside. Fight monsters," Diluc said flatly. "What should I call you?" 

"You can call me recruit," said Childe. Fine, then. "I'm going to call you Diluc."

"Don't."

"I will!" 

Oh, Archons, this was about to be the most frustrating part of everything, wasn't it? "Whatever. We have a minor slime occupation to clear out. It will make a good opportunity for you to get acquainted with my current team." 

And, as he was expecting: "Slimes? Are you kidding? Don't you have a war to fight or something?" He didn't look all that disappointed. His face was alive with rancor and excitement and a million other sharp-edged emotions. It seemed to be the only kind of emotion Childe had. His eyes were always the same, though—dark and dead. In other words, nothing much had changed from the last timeline, except maybe that he'd stopped bouncing off the walls quite as much and grown a sense of propriety as he aged, if the Traveller's stories were to be trusted.

"A war? Yeah, we do," Diluc said. "A war against monsters that threaten civilian safety." 

"Come on! Haven't you even killed a person before?"

In this timeline? "No." 

"You're boring."

"You're irritating."

"You can't say that to me, I'm a diplomat!" 

"You can't say that to me, I'm your superior officer."

"That's not how that even works," Childe said, indignant, as Diluc pushed open the door and stepped into the grey light of day. 

"Too bad."

"This exchange is gonna suck," Childe said. 

"I couldn't agree more. You're incredibly childish." 

"Well, you're incredibly fucking boring," Childe groaned, and Diluc tried not to enjoy himself too much. He hadn't realized how toothless Kaeya was in both timelines now until Childe had started liberally insulting him. 

He turned the corner. There were Kaeya and Jean and Joyce, standing in a circle chatting. Kaeya nodded and walked up to him. "Hey. Is this the guy?" 

"Yep. This is… he refuses to tell me his name, but he's the exchange recruit."

"You can call me recruit," Childe said, cheerful.

"What, like a drill sergeant?" Kaeya looked skeptical. 

"Yep, pretty much."

"Ah… ha. Well, recruit, I look forward to working with you. Diluc, I gathered up your strike team like you asked."

"Thank you," Diluc said. "Well, then. Ready to go?"

"Sure," Jean said, walking up to join the conversation with Joyce behind her. "There's a minor slime colony growing near Starsnatch Cliff. Unfortunately, or I should say fortunately for the civilians but unfortunately for us, Captain Diluc has been on a bit of a roll recently and has decimated monster populations."

Childe gave Diluc a look. "A bit of a roll, huh?"

"I guess you could say that," Diluc said mildly, wondering how much he knew about why he was here. "It's thanks to Kaeya that I'm able to get out this much, anyway. He's the real hero here. Shall we?"

"No," Childe interrupted. "Let's not."

Oh, great. "What is it now?"

"I want to fight you. Let somebody else take care of the stupid slimes."

How are you around my age? "Fine," Diluc said. "Let's do it somewhere else than Mond, though, for Archons' sake. Jean, Joyce, Kaeya, do you mind–?" 

"On it," Jean said, though Kaeya didn't exactly look excited at the prospect. "Let's go." With a few uneven salutes, they started away towards the eastern gate. Kaeya kept glancing over his shoulder at Diluc and Childe, but Diluc waited until he had passed out of sight to turn to Childe. 

"Well," he said. "Shall we?" 

Childe shot him a wolfish smile. "Lead the way, Diluc." 

"Stop calling me that."

"Make me."

"I can and I will," Diluc said, but the threat was hollow even to him. They set off. He decided to head a bit closer to Stormterror's Lair, where nobody tended to venture. It would be a longish walk, but worth it… probably. As long as they stayed close to Cider Lake and far away from Wolvendom. 

"Sooo," Childe said. "Where are we headed?" 

"There are some good plateaus close to the ruins of Old Mondstadt," Diluc answered. "We shouldn't have to go into the city ruins." He knew better than to mention Stormterror. Childe would never leave it alone, and that was the last thing he needed until he'd taken care of Ursa. 

"Good!" Childe said. "I hate wasting time."

"Then why are you wasting mine?" Diluc muttered. 

"Hey, man, you think this is my choice? My handler is a fucking hardass, alright?" Childe groaned loud. "I've tried to kill him, like, ten times, but he keeps telling me I'll get suspended if I do. And it's not like I care, but…"

"You want to become a Harbinger."

Childe's gaze snapped to him. "How did you know?" 

"Gut feeling."

"Diluc, I'm surprised at you," Childe said airily. Archons, he sounded like the older Kaeya. "I thought you were just a trophy captain because your daddy's rich, but now? You'll be a good fight, I'm sure of it."

"Mhm." Diluc tried not to get too offended. This, too, was part and parcel with getting constantly insulted by a smug traitorous bastard. 

Childe continued to try and rile him up on the way to Stormterror's Lair, or maybe that was just the way he was. Diluc eyed him up and down, trying to spot any trace of a Delusion, but there was only a Hydro Vision clipped to his belt. So he might have been safe, and he might not be. Fine, that was fine. He was a maniac, yes, but that made him predictable. Diluc knew exactly what Childe wanted and he intended to give it to him.  

By the time the sun was nearing the peak of its arc in the sky, they finally reached a cliff overlooking Stormterror's Lair, near Brightcrown Canyon. They looped around and hiked up onto the top, facing the cliff edge back towards the Lake. It was a beautiful clear day, the rest of Mond spread out across the horizon, rolling hills and forests and crags and, in the distance, Dragonspine. 

Childe didn't seem interested in the scenery. He was staring directly at the Vision on Diluc's belt, and when he noticed Diluc looking back at him, his smile became razor-keen. "Shall we?" 

Diluc readied his claymore. "On three?"

Even sharper, his smile. "No." And then he lunged. 

Diluc barely had time to react, stumbling and whirling around just in time to parry a brutal series of slashes from Childe. As soon as the slashes were over he was gone again, all too light-footed to even keep an eye on, darting around behind Diluc. Diluc spun and slashed at him, and he danced away, giggling. "Damn, you're slow."

Diluc gritted his teeth and activated his Vision. Pyro rushed through his body, saturating him with scorching heat, and his sword lit up with Pyro too as if it was a part of his body. He'd already had the new claymore for a while, but he still hadn't gotten used to how light it was and how damn well it conducted Pyro. 

He took a deep breath. 

The next time Childe came dancing around to strike him on the side, he was ready. He brought the full force of a blast of Pyro down on him, and Childe tried and failed to get in a slash despite the burn. He stepped out of the attack, off-balance, muttering: "Amateur mistake…" Diluc was there to take advantage with a few vicious slashes of his own. He slammed the blunt end of his claymore into Childe's chest, and he grunted and went flying. Yeah, Diluc could see why he hadn't made Harbinger yet. He had a while to go before he could be the formidable opponent he'd heard so much about. 

Still, he was a hardy little fucker. That hit hadn't finished him, not even close. He crept close again, Hydro blades pulsing slightly in his hands—and lunged, lashing at Diluc. Diluc knew what to do at this point. He put his claymore between him and Childe, and…

There was a crackle of Electro, the sword lit up in a purple flash. Diluc only had a moment's warning to think, oh shit, before he was completely overwhelmed by the force of the hit. By the time his brain got oriented again, Childe was on his knees, standing over him, his blade against Diluc's neck.

"Checkmate?" Childe said, smug. 

Diluc hooked one leg around Childe's knee and shoved with the other, and his expression as he tumbled backwards was priceless. Diluc grabbed his sword and stumbled back. Probably could have followed Childe down and choked him into submission even without the sword, but even now his limbs were still twitching with the aftereffects of Electro. Another Delusion attack wasn't something he exactly wanted to get close to. 

Speaking of which. A Delusion. He called it. 

Also, he was fucked. 

Childe went on the attack again. Aggressive, wasn't he? Well, not a bad strategy, Diluc thought, as he barely avoided a crackling stab of Electro-charged Hydro blades. He swung at Childe, Childe parried and darted back a few metres. 

"We're not getting anywhere," Childe said, slightly out of breath. 

"No," Diluc agreed, also out of breath but hiding it. "We're not." 

A light grin, and a loud crackle of energy, and Childe's shadows all got weirdly washed out. "Alright," he said. "Fine." And he tagged Diluc in the side.

It was like getting hit by a boulder. Diluc staggered and went down hard, groaning, and then Childe was on top of him, slashing again, again, at his stomach, his arms. Diluc raised his sword in a futile defense, barely feeling the sharpness of the blade so much as the hot blood trickling down across his shirt. He tried to pull that grappling move again, but Childe slipped out of his reach and kicked him in the face. The world went buzzy and dark, and Diluc tasted blood. He managed somehow to roll away and stand upright, gasping for air. His nose was bleeding. It tasted like metal.

Childe's whole body was crackling with purplish-red energy, his arm, his eyes, even his smile. And Archons, was it a wide smile, so wide it didn't even look like it should be possible on his face. His eyes still looked just as dead. Diluc wasn't sure if he hated or respected or feared this guy, but either way he damn well wasn't going to lose.

Childe's knee on his back, and Diluc wheezed, stumbling forward, whirling around, nobody there, a slash at his leg and he went down, a well-aimed kick in the side and then a chop to the neck and then a slam against the ground, right on his skull, so hard he could–

...consume you, Kaeya says. I… shit, I mean it's obvious, but it isn't you, it has to steal parts of your soul, make you believe its desires are your own…

–he was down, dizzy and disoriented and blinded by the sun, gasping and clutching his neck. Shit, he couldn't breathe. There was no way Childe just got more determined. That Electro. It was the Delusion, he knew it. He was somehow squeezing more power out of the Delusion, beyond its baseline ability. 

Childe approached slowly, shaking out his arms so his blades were on full display. The sun glared through them, worsening the nauseating dizziness. Great, Diluc was concussed. He tried to get up, but staggered and fell back down.

"That was disappointing," Childe said, his blade lengthening and crackling, the Electro arcing to the ground in blinding, dizzying flashes of violet light. Against the sun he was nothing but a dark silhouette, approaching slowly, blade and Delusion in hand, and it stirred some deep animal panic in Diluc. He scrambled back, choking still. He was going to die. Childe was going to kill him. Childe was going to shove that Vision into him and he was going to get eaten. Diluc needed to get away, felt himself cry out in hoarse panic, oh, Barbatos, not again, please, not again, someone, anyone, please–

With a cry of victory, Childe raised his sword–

Something blocked the sun.

Diluc opened his eyes. Blue hair, long and silky, hung in his face. He took a second to focus on it. 

Kaeya. 

Oh, shit. Oh, shit, Kaeya. Kaeya took the hit for him, he was hurt, he needed to– he couldn't, he had to– 

Kaeya's arm fumbled for him through the prickly grass, found his hand, and held on tight, and despite the pain of touching his burns, Diluc knew it was okay. Kaeya's skin was rough and warm, and he was panting gently. He squeezed Diluc's hand. Diluc squeezed back. 

"What do you think you're doing?" Kaeya said, his voice silky smooth.

"I could ask you the same thing, Sir Kaeya," Childe said, in a matching self-satisfied tone. "Threatening a diplomat, really?" 

"Attempted murder of a Knight of Favonius. Insubordination. Lies, treason, espionage, and conspiracy to commit murder. I could execute you on the spot and nobody would bat an eye."

"Why don't you, then? Since you've got this conveniently placed sword and all." 

"Get back to Mond," Kaeya said, his voice quiet and deadly. "If I ever catch you doing stuff like this again… well." Hah, if Diluc hadn't been around he probably would have tried to kill him then and there. Diluc didn't know how to tell Kaeya that he didn't mind. 

Childe snickered. "If you were an allogene, Sir Kaeya, that threat would be much more interesting." And there was a rustling noise, and then he was gone. 

Kaeya exhaled and turned, kneeling beside Diluc. "Are you okay?"

Diluc shoved himself upright. His eyes slowly unfocused. He tried to focus again, but his eyes weren't listening to him. "Ugh." He closed his eyes. "My head hurts." 

"Yeah, I know. That hit looked fucking nasty. Can you walk?" 

"Yeah, I think," Diluc said. He staggered to his feet—dizzy, but he could limp decently well. 

Kaeya got up as well, and immediately staggered and fell back down. There was blood on his shirt. 

"Are you okay?" Diluc asked. 

"Yeah," Kaeya said, though he looked a little green. "Just a scratch."

A strange hatred rose in Diluc, but he closed his eyes and took a breath. His Vision flared, and it was gone, and… shit, Kaeya really didn't look so good.

Diluc knelt down and took off his jacket, crumpled it up and pressed it hard to Kaeya's stomach. He offered him a hand. "Let's head to the Cathedral and get us both some healing." 

Kaeya closed his eyes and just nodded. 

"You are extremely lucky," said the nun, "that you made it here so quickly."

Diluc was sitting on a bench at the Cathedral, with this nun's hands around his head, cool with Cryo against his temples. He had to admit, it was a relief. He'd had a concussion before, and once it set in beyond the range of immediate Vision-based healing it was nasty. He'd spent several memorable months at one point at an inn in Fontaine recovering from a scuffle on the street and running down his funds, and despite the friendship he'd struck up with the somewhat pessimistic old lady who owned the inn, he had no interest in repeating anything like it. So feeling the dizzy stuffiness melt away and leave him relatively clear-headed was a relief. 

"If you were a couple minutes later," the nun continued, "it would have set in, and this was a rather nasty knock. Did you pass out?" Her tone was semi-casual, so Diluc assumed he was supposed to know her, but honestly he didn't know this lady at all. 

"Uh, yeah, I…" He'd seen older Kaeya, right? A dream, or a hallucination... "I think so. Just for a second though."

"Hmm. Try not to do that too far from help next time, hm? And like I said, consider yourself lucky. Sir Kaeya likely saved you a few months of bed rest, and..." Cryo flared, and Diluc's skin ached a bit. "Yes, as I suspected, heavier damage as well… he may well have saved your life." 

Diluc glanced at Kaeya, expecting him to grin and say something like, Hear that? You're welcome. Now be more careful next time. But he seemed sullen, leaning against the wall a few metres away. One hand was plastered against the gash in his stomach, which wasn't healed completely, since Diluc's head wound needed treatment sooner so it wouldn't set in. His skin was a strange shade, yellower than usual, and he was sweating hard. 

"Kaeya?" 

He glanced up. "Pardon?"

"Did you hear that? You saved my life." The words were out of Diluc's mouth before he realized how strange they felt. The half of him that wanted to grin and thank him and make sure he was okay immediately went to war with the half of him that wanted to sneer every time he saw him. Gods, his head hurt. He went hot, then cold, then finally settled on hot and his heart eased. 

Kaeya's expression softened, but only for a second, his gaze still far away. "I know," he said. "You're welcome. Now focus on getting healed."

"I don't have to do much," Diluc said. "What are you standing for? Sit down, you're going to bleed to death." 

"I'll be fine," Kaeya said, laughing weakly. "It's a flesh wound." 

"I don't buy that. Childe was going to kill me, there's no way a cursory healing would take care of that. Sit down until she can finish up."

Kaeya's glance drifted to Diluc, a certain edge hidden under careful neutrality. "Childe?"

Shit. "The kid, I mean. The recruit. He's a child." A shitty lie, but there was no way Kaeya could deduce anything useful out of it. 

"Hmm." Kaeya nodded, but didn't seem convinced. He returned to staring at the floor. 

"Done," the nun said. "Now onto the rest…" 

"Thank you, Sister," Diluc said, nodding at her and pulling away from her grasp, "but you should heal Sir Kaeya first. That stomach wound looks nasty."

Kaeya gave him a look, which immediately flipped to a disinterested gaze as the nun looked over. "Get the leg wound first."

"It can wait," Diluc said, still looking him in the eye. "It stopped bleeding. Go on."

"If you say so," she smiled, and beckoned for Kaeya to sit down. 

Reluctantly, he came over and sat on the bench, hunching over and still clutching his arm close to his stomach. Carefully, the nun peeled back the torn fabric, took a damp cloth and wiped off the edges of the wound. Kaeya's breath hitched in pain. Diluc winced. 

The nun's eyes widened. "This looks nasty," she said. "Why didn't you ask for treatment sooner?"

"You needed to take care of Diluc's head first," Kaeya said, voice calm and smooth. "Don't trouble yourself."

"Sir Kaeya, you are going to bleed to death!" she said, her hands already over him and glowing with Cryo. "Captain, fetch me those bandages and that towel. Now, please."

Diluc fumbled for the roll of bandages sitting on his lap and the bloody towel beside him, passing them over to the nun. He bit down the growing anxiety and the urge to ask if it would be okay. The wound's edges were already pulling closed, slowly but surely, and the bleeding was slowing. So Kaeya was fine. 

The nun sighed, wiping off her forehead with one sleeve. She looked strained. "Well, you're out of danger. Luckily it wasn't a very bad wound, but those strange Electro burns… I can't heal them. They'll take a while to heal up, so you shouldn't push yourself too hard."

"And how long will that take?" Kaeya asked, raising one eyebrow at her. 

"A few weeks. Let's say… until the seventh of May."

Kaeya groaned. "Great. Diluc, this is your fault." He was joking, but… he wasn't joking. 

"I'm sorry," Diluc said quietly. Damn it, Kaeya'd still be injured on his birthday. Well, nothing had changed. Kaeya was still staying out of the fight, and halfway across Mond if Diluc had anything to say about it. Even so, this only made it all the more critical to keep him far away from Ursa. Far, far away. Father had to be there to keep the timeline intact, since it was likely organized to target him as an important figure in Mond with a Delusion, but Kaeya could damn well stay out of it. 

"It's alright," Kaeya said, straightening up and standing with a pained sigh. "You couldn't have known. Let's go."

Diluc stood up as well, nodding to the nun. "Thank you, Sister. Do you need any help cleaning up?" 

"It's alright," she said, gathering up the towel, cloth and bandages. "Goodness! You two go home and get rested, hmm? And send my regards to Adelinde! And Sir Kaeya, you should come to church more often. Such a godless young man." She tutted. 

"Will do," Kaeya said with a charming smile. Diluc thought it looked a little strained, but maybe that was because he knew how godless Kaeya really was. "Enjoy yourself." 

As he and Diluc passed out of the doors of the Church, a transformation came across Kaeya, something subtle but all-consuming, like a veil falling away. Suddenly he looked tired, bitter, shaky. He sighed and slowed down, rubbing at his eye. And Diluc felt… warm, at the trust placed in him to see this Kaeya. 

"Should we ride home?" Diluc wondered idly. "Since we're both injured." 

"Mm." Kaeya nodded and changed course, towards the stables. "Well, that was political suicide."

"What was? Threatening a Fatui recruit?"

"No, trying to kill Mond's Cavalry Captain." He laughed, a slightly strained sound. "I'm already drafting an incident report in my head. We're gonna string this guy up if I've got anything to say about it."

Good, at least it would get Childe off Diluc's hands. "I don't know if he was really trying to kill me," Diluc mused. It wasn't so much a real suspicion as a strange resemblance to when– to when… when he'd…. 

"No, he was," Kaeya muttered. "I watched the whole back half of the fight. He was definitely trying to kill you, and he would have succeeded if I didn't step in."

"Thanks," Diluc said. "Good to have a second opinion."

"You're welcome, but that's not my point. It's annoying that the Fatui would send someone so obviously mental on exchange," Kaeya said rancorously, scratching at his bandages. "I knew he was off from the second I laid eyes on him. It wasn't even an assassination attempt, the guy's just insane."

"How do you know it wasn't an assassination attempt?" 

"Why would anyone assassinate you?" 

Diluc almost laughed out loud. How ridiculous. For all his scheming, Kaeya couldn't help but trust Diluc enough to believe his stupid alibis about fighting slimes. Well, it was true that he was clearing out Mond at an unprecedented rate. Maybe he figured it was impossible unless Diluc was dedicating all his time to it, which, if true, was pretty funny. "I don't know," he said carefully. 

"I think he was just trying to use his Delusion," Kaeya said. "Did you see him activate it? What was that, even?" 

...Yeah. Yeah, Diluc had seen him activate it. Had seen his power and speed increase tenfold, and unlock a level of fighting prowess to rival Varka's. Effortlessly, with seemingly no cost. Not only that, but he was one singular, powerful enemy with plenty of stamina. And he was much, much smarter than Ursa. 

But, more to the point, "What's a Delusion?"

Kaeya's whole body went fluid and casual, a clear oh shit. Too bad Diluc already knew his secrets. "You know how he had Hydro and Electro? Yeah. Electro was from a fake Vision. That's a Delusion." 

"A fake Vision? Is that a Fatui thing?" Diluc said. "It worked wonders."

"Yeah, I've read about them." Too much detail, jumping to explain how he knew. A criminally terrible giveaway that he was lying, especially for Kaeya. "Apparently they're not good for you. You're an allogene anyway, you don't need one." How responsible of Kaeya to try to keep him away from Delusions. Also, how adorably futile.  

"You had better stay away from them too if they damage your health." 

"Yeah, I'll do my best." Kaeya laughed. 

"He really was something, wasn't he? I'd love him as a sparring partner…" And Diluc paused as something dawned on him. 

Kaeya laughed at him. Sharply. "Well, good luck with that."

"Kaeya," Diluc said, perfectly even. "Don't submit that report."

Kaeya stopped in his tracks. Diluc stopped as well a moment later, turning back to look at him.

"Excuse me?" Kaeya said. 

"I said don't submit that report," Diluc said. "I'm still interested in what he can do for the Knights. Let's give him another chance, just tell the others to be careful around him."

"Diluc, he tried to kill you. He almost did kill you," Kaeya said slowly. 

"I know," Diluc said. "All the same. Diplomatic relations, battle opportunities, second chances… I'm sure you already know everything I'm about to say. He's just a kid. I'll talk to him. Don't submit the report." 

Kaeya stared at him.

Diluc stared right back, unrelenting. "That's an order."

When Kaeya spoke again, his tone was all but unreadable. "Yes, sir."

Chapter Text

It paid to be the Cavalry Captain sometimes. For instance, Childe's file was completely open to Diluc, no questions asked, as Childe was technically his subordinate. So it was easy to find his room number at the Goth Grand Hotel. The hard part was sneaking out of the house in the middle of the night without waking Kaeya, and even that was absurdly easy. 

Under cover of night, reminiscing about his old exploits as the hero of Mond, Diluc made his way to the city of Mondstadt. The moon was clear, casting dim shadows of the trees across the dewy grass. Cider Lake was glass-still. Across the lake in Mond, lights were still on in a few windows, distant voices carrying across the water. Still, overall, the night was silent except for the singing of the frogs. 

He hurried across the bridge, climbed the wall a ways away from the gate, dodged the guard and scampered across the top of the wall to the roof of the nearest building, which made him nostalgic for his vigilante days. From there it was easy to simply clamber down the support beams, and then his feet were solidly on the cobblestones of Mondstadt. He made his way to the Goth Grand Hotel in silence. 

He'd already located the exact window. Unfortunately, he didn't even get the chance to throw a pebble against Childe's window, because the second he bent down to pick up some gravel there was a blade at his neck, warm breath on the back of his head.

"Well, well, well," Childe cooed. "What have we here? It's Captain Diluc, back for more. Are you so eager to die, or just stupid?" 

"You won't kill me." Diluc's voice was calm.  

"Oh? Why's that?"

"I have a Delusion," Diluc said. 

Childe let go. Diluc turned around to see that familiar sharp grin. "I knew it. Where'd you get it?" 

"Let's go to the forest," Diluc said. 

They set off in silence. Together, they slipped over the wall, across the bridge, into the treeline. The moon passed under a cloud front, and the night became colder, darker. Diluc stayed on guard for the glow and song of a Delusion or the swish of a blade, but Childe stayed a good few metres away the whole time and didn't seem interested in killing him. 

They stopped, in silent agreement, a bit further from Wolvendom. Diluc was the one to break the silence. "Why did you try to kill me?"

"I was ordered to," Childe answered freely. In the dark he was nothing more than a cluster of fragmented shapes against the trees. "My handler said to do it subtly, but that's not my style." 

"Why do you need a handler?"

"Lord Harbinger doesn't wanna leave me unattended. Thought this was a horrible idea." Childe turned to him. "Your turn. That Delusion, where did you get it?"

"Teach me how to–"

"No. Where did you get your Delusion?" 

"I raided a workshop."

"That's not true," Childe said. "It's already got its claws in you. The workshop only got raided a week ago."

"Call it inheritance, then. I've only had it a month either way."

"No, that still doesn't make any sense. You're too entangled. You've been fighting with it for years, haven't you, Diluc?" His voice was smug. "Tell me, are you even an allogene at all?"

Diluc produced his Delusion from his inside pocket, tugging it on. He hadn't worn it since that affair with Dottore, and it felt so familiar, so good, like lying down after a long day. He indicated the Vision hanging from his belt. "Don't doubt it."

Childe's teeth were all too bright as he grinned. "Nice."

"If I fight you, are you going to kill me? Maim me?"

"Do you want me to?" 

"I'd prefer you didn't." Diluc tugged at the Delusion. Archons, it felt good to have it on again. It was starting to sing through his veins, now, taking root and ripping out the parts of him that had calmed and calcified, like tearing up old floorboards. 

"Good. I don't want to kill you either." Childe thought for a second. "Though, Madame Pelletier wouldn't be happy about that…" 

Ah, right. Pelletier, he'd almost forgotten. 

"Kill her for me," Diluc said. 

Childe stopped short, a little laugh slipping out. "'Scuse me?" 

"Kill her, I said." Diluc tried to find Childe's eyes in the dark. "If you can get her assistant Esfir and any other executive who was working for her in Springvale, that would be a bonus. I'll pay you, and I have considerable influence in Mond. If it's within my power, it's yours."

"Kill her yourself," Childe scoffed.  

"I've got an engagement at the end of the month. I don't have the time to track her to Fontaine. You, however, are going to have contact with her when you debrief, I expect." 

Childe hesitated. 

Diluc continued: "I'm sure she's a capable fighter. A theoretical assassin might also have to fight her capable guards and witnesses. How long has it been since you fought another Delusion user to the death? How about ten at once? Sounds exhilarating, doesn't it?" 

"Pay me in advance," Childe said, an excited smile barely concealed in his voice. 

"No." 

"Then, two million Mora–" 

"Done." He'd have to exhaust his savings… It was fine. Especially since he might not have to deal with it at all. 

A raucous laugh. "Are you serious?" 

"Dead serious," Diluc said.

"Why?" 

"She caused the death of someone important to me."

"Oh. Boring." Childe paused, and when he spoke again, his voice was hopeful. "Is that… all you called me out here for?"

"No. Teach me how to do what you did in our fight."

"Teach you? Aw." He exaggerated his disappointment to the point of being infuriating. "I'm not a good teacher, you know–"

"I don't care," Diluc said. "You're the only other Delusion user I know with a chance of helping me. I got you off the hook with the Knights for this, recruit, so don't disappoint me." 

Childe paused for a long, long moment. Around them, the forest rustled and insects chirped. An owl called in the distance. 

"Fight me first," Childe said. His Vision glowed faintly, and a Hydro blade manifested in one hand, and then the other. He twirled them around. "If I win, tell me the truth about your Delusion. The whole truth, I mean it." 

"It's a deal," Diluc said. Good, he was planning to spar anyway, but Childe didn't have to know that. "If I win, teach me."

"Oh, you won't win," Childe said, "but I'll teach you if I have fun."

"Arrogant." Diluc drew his claymore.

"Accurate," Childe retorted, and attacked. 

Diluc was a bit more familiar with Childe's highly mobile fighting style at this point, but holy shit was he fast. And the trees only made it worse. Before Diluc could register what was going on, Childe tagged his back. He barely resisted going down, but he staggered, and then Childe was on top of him, his forearm pressed to Diluc's throat. 

"Wow," Childe said into his ear. "You didn't even try. If this was a real fight you'd be dead. Get in the first move next time." 

"Get off me," Diluc growled. "Rematch." 

"If you say so." And Childe was gone. Diluc got to his feet and looked around. Childe was nowhere to be seen, for a moment—but then, he noticed. There was a blue light in a tree a few metres away. A gently glowing Hydro Vision. 

Well, it wouldn't get out of control if Childe doused the fire… 

Diluc torched it. 

Childe laughed, half surprise and half joy, and there was a quiet roar and the flames were doused. Childe's Vision was glowing consistently, though, which made him an easy target in the pitch black. Diluc went for several slashes to back him up and tried to slam Childe into a tree, but Childe slipped away.

"Why aren't you using your Delusion?" he asked.

Oh. Why wasn't he using his Delusion? His gut said, because I already have my Vision, but… 

"You're not used to it, are you?" 

"I am," Diluc lied, and discarded his claymore on the ground. His Delusion lit up, and he tried to remember the steps of a fighting style he hadn't practiced for a long time. 

The chains emerged from his hands, the links freezing cold on his palms as they reached and latched on to the tree branches around him. Instinctively, he vaulted up into the canopy, sending several chains rattling down towards Childe. 

Childe grabbed them out of midair and yanked. With a grunt of alarm, Diluc went tumbling down towards Childe. He managed to right himself by attaching a chain to a nearby branch and yanked right back, pulling Childe into the air behind him. 

For a second they hung there, Diluc off the branch, Childe off Diluc, and Diluc thought he'd won–

But Childe started climbing the chain, and with that, he was on top of Diluc, grappling with him to try and get a chokehold in midair. Diluc dropped the chain and twisted, and they both went down hard, Childe on the bottom. Again, Diluc thought he'd won, but then Childe was grappling at him. He rolled over, forced his arm down onto Diluc's windpipe, hooked their legs together and crushed him to the ground. Diluc tried to pry his arms off, but he didn't budge. A moment later, Diluc's eyes hurt as he strained to focus on the Hydro blade grazing his neck.

"I win," Childe said, still out of breath. 

"This is useless," Diluc panted. "You're too mobile and you grapple. I need to fight a big slow enemy, not a small fast one." 

"Excuses, excuses." Childe got off of him, stretching. His joints cracked unsettlingly loud. "Fighting makes you better at fighting."

"Will grappling make me better at fighting a dragon?"

"Absolutely," Childe said, "if your Delusion does that. Why didn't you grapple with the chains?"

"That's for when the opponent is already subdued," Diluc said, picking himself up and dusting himself off. "I need to fight them first."

"What if you fought like that?"

"I'd be tying myself down."

"Then don't. Just drop them and split if you get in trouble. Try again. Wear them out. Are you stupid?" Childe's eyes were black holes in the dark. "And why'd you drop your claymore?" 

"It's incompatible with the aerial chain moves. I need two free hands to maneuver."

"Then why the fuck are you fighting with a claymore?"

"Because it's how I was trained." 

"Train a different way, then. Use twin blades or daggers or be a ranger. You're wasting your time on two incompatible fighting styles." 

Strong words from the man with a bow and twin blades in the future. 

"What's with the face?" Childe said. "I wanna fight the strongest version of you, but I can't do that if you can only use one strength at once." 

"Well, how do you propose I use a claymore in midair?" Diluc said, going over to retrieve his blade.

"Don't. You should at least fuse your Vision into your Delusion. It's better for you, anyway."

"Better for me?"

"Kills you slower." 

Ah, yes. The infamous death by Delusion. (Diluc did not think about Father.) "I'm starting to think that's only true for people who don't have Visions."

"Nah. Delusions will fuck you up, man. You ever been separated from yours for a while? It'll be fucking hungry, and you don't wanna know what happens when it's hungry." A wolfish grin. "You really don't know anything, do you? You don't even know how to feed yourself to it." 

"Is that what you did at the end of our fight? What made you so fast all of a sudden?" 

"Yeah."

"How?"

"You know or you don't. The Delusion will consume you at its own rate, all in due time." 

"You know, Childe," Diluc said, shifting his claymore from hand to hand, "I'm starting to think you're bullshitting me."

"Child? I'm the same age as you." Childe snickered. 

Ah. Shit, not again. Diluc had to keep a closer eye on that kind of thing. He tried to think of something to say, but drew a complete blank.

"Tell me the truth about your Delusion," Childe said. "Really."

"I used it for years, leaving my Vision behind." The words started before Diluc could even think about what he was doing. 

"Yikes," grinned Childe. "No wonder you're such a dick." 

Diluc have him a dirty look. "I gave it away when I came back home and took up my Vision again. I hadn't seen it in years, until…" 

Diluc shook his head, shoving the thought out of his mind. 

"There's more stuff you're not telling me," said Childe. 

"Yeah," Diluc said. "There is."

"This wasn't the deal," Childe said. 

"No, it wasn't."

"You're an annoying bastard, you know that?" Childe's grin widened. "Fight me again."

Diluc lunged at him, his Delusion flaring. A gleeful laugh from Childe as he dodged to one side. Diluc sent a chain in his direction just ahead of him and he ran smack into it. It lashed and curled up around him, and Diluc yanked him closer, infusing his chains with Pyro. As his Vision flared, he felt some of his sharpness subsiding. 

Something violet glowed in Childe's jacket. A burst of Electro knocked Diluc flat, and then Childe was on top. Nice try. Diluc tripped him, flipped him over, landed on top, and lashed a chain taut around his neck. Childe grunted and struggled, but his Delusion was in cooldown and all he could do was kick and slash. 

Diluc avoided his blows. "Do you yield?" 

Childe grunted at him.

He pulled the chains tighter. "Do you yield?" 

Another moment of futile struggling, and then another burst of Electro knocked Diluc flat. Childe fell on top of him, putting the point of his sword to Diluc's throat. 

As Diluc opened his eyes, though, and gazed up at Childe's face inches from his own, Childe was beaming. "Now that's more like it. Now all you need is the will to kill, and you could have won!" 

"Get off me," Diluc said, but he was smiling as well and he knew it. He kicked uselessly at Childe, who rolled off him and collapsed onto the forest floor. 

"I like you," Childe panted. "You've got potential. Shame your Delusion is so fucking unstable." 

"So you're not going to kill me."

"Nah. That would be a waste," Childe said. "Anyway, you want my advice? Focus on feeding yourself to your power first, you've got absolutely no chance if you can't give that much."

Diluc stiffened. Finally. "Tell me how."

"You don't get to choose how you destroy yourself," Childe said. And then: "Ah, we have a guest." 

Diluc scrambled up and grabbed his claymore on instinct—only to find himself face to face with Kaeya.

Well, shit.

"Diluc," Kaeya said, light as air. "Care to tell me what you're doing at two in the morning near Wolvendom with the guy who tried to murder you?"

It took a moment for Diluc's reaction to catch up with the situation. Several thoughts came over him at once— oh shit, I don't have a lie good enough for this, how dare you stalk me— but eventually the feeling that stuck was concern. "Kaeya, you're hurt. You should be resting."

Kaeya laughed. "And you should be sleeping, not sneaking out at two in the morning to meet with a murderous spy." Shit, and he was angry, too. 

"I know what I'm doing," Diluc said.

"I don't believe you." Before Diluc could react, one hand darted out and grabbed him by the lapel of his jacket. "We're going home. Now. Recruit, get moving. We should all be in bed, and that includes you."

"If you say so," Childe snickered. 

Kaeya glared at him. "Come on, Diluc, let's get home." Without waiting for permission, Kaeya started to drag him away. 

Diluc's heart filled with dread as he watched his lead fade into the forest. Still, actually fighting Kaeya was out of the question, so… damage control. He slipped his gloved right hand into his pocket, trying to shove Kaeya with the other hand the whole time. "What the hell, Kaeya?"

"No, what the hell, you," Kaeya said. "Do you have anything to say for yourself? Because I'm starting to think you're actually going insane. I thought today's stupid choice was the stupidest choice you ever made, but somehow you just keep outdoing yourself!" 

"I'm not insane. I don't have to justify everything I do to you–"

"Well, you sure as hell have to justify this one unless you want Father hearing about it–"

"What can he do? Ground me? It's my job to fight."

"Yeah, but why him?" Kaeya gestured backwards towards Childe. "Him, of all people, the guy who tried to kill you!"

"He's a good fighter. He's got a Vision and a Delusion, and he's well-trained. I understand you think he's erratic, but we can't pass up this level of skill–"

"To do what? To fight hilichurls? Slimes? The occasional weak Abyss Mage?" A dry laugh. "No, don't pretend this is for the good of Mondstadt. You're feeding each other's addictions, that's all, and I'm not gonna just sit and watch it happen, so don't bullshit me."

"You wouldn't understand." Diluc tried to free himself from Kaeya's grip, but Kaeya held firm. 

"Then explain it to me! Why him? Why now? Why not me? I'm a good fighter too!"

"You don't have a Vision, it's different. He knows things that nobody in Mond can teach me. Things I need to know."

"So you decided out of the blue not to go forward on charges for your own murder attempt? Do you really want to die that badly?" 

It's a rhetorical question, but a spike of something sharp plunges down Diluc's spine, reminding him of things he'd rather not remember. "Get off of me," he snarls. 

"No." Kaeya's grip tightens again.

"Get off of me!" Diluc grabs his hand and rips it away, kicking him back when he tries to get another grip. 

"You're insane!" Kaeya laughs. "You're actually going insane. You don't even get that you're not making rational decisions, do you? You–" 

"You just don't understand–"

"Then explain it to me!" 

Diluc opens his mouth to explain, to scream it at him, Father will die unless I get more power, more power, I need the Delusion, I need it, I need it, it's not driving me insane, it's keeping me sane, it's the only thing keeping me sane— but his mouth just won't listen to him, and he feels sick. In his pocket, the Delusion is ice cold. He doesn't dare take his hand away. 

"I can't explain it, Kaeya. I can't, but you have to trust me." 

"Well, I don't. And honestly, using that to try and get me back on your side is a low move. I hope you can't even recognize yourself right now, because I sure don't." Kaeya gave him what seemed to be a disgusted look through the dark and turned away.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"To tell Father about all of this. I've let it go on too long anyway."

"Don't you dare." Diluc took a step forward.

"What are you gonna do, fight me?" He laughed, a cruel sound. "Go home, Diluc, and get your shit together. I'm sick of fighting you on every little thing."

"I'm warning you," Diluc said, and there was a raging tide rising in him that he recognized distantly as panic. They were going to take the Delusion away, if they knew, they would stop him, it would mess up the timeline, he had to stop him, he had to stop him– 

"Shut up," Kaeya scoffed, and kept walking, and no, no, oh, hell, no–

Diluc had one card left to play, and he really didn't want to use it. "Kaeya, don't. Please. You don't understand what you're doing." 

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't." 

Because– because– 

No, he couldn't do this. Not again. He couldn't fight Kaeya. He couldn't let history repeat itself. 

He'd have to just let it happen.

And was it so bad, really? He could find another way, to hell with the timeline. Really, he needed this. It wasn't like he could control himself enough to come out of this tailspin. Yes, everything was clear– 

But the Delusion said, No. 

Diluc's voice came out cold and smooth and alien. "You wouldn't want Father to find out you're a Kaenri'ahn spy, now, would you?" 

Kaeya froze. 

Around them, the wind sighed through the trees. Diluc ignored the way his heart pounded. His hands were shaking, his legs were shaking, his whole body was shaking. 

Kaeya turned around. His eye was wide. His left hand reached for his sword, slowly, as if asking for permission. 

"Well, look at you, reaching for your sword so hastily," Diluc heard himself say, and he started to panic, because that wasn't him talking, and he couldn't move, and, and–

He took a step forward.

The point of Kaeya's sword met Diluc's neck. Kaeya's hand was trembling, his breath coming in bursts. "Don't come any closer," he rasped, his eyes narrowing into something that was probably supposed to be a threat. "I'm warning you." 

Diluc leaned forward, until the point of the blade pressed against his neck. He kept his gaze fixed on Kaeya. Everything about him was buzzing. Everything about him was deadly calm. "Am I wrong?"

"You're wrong. It's not true," Kaeya said. "It's not true. It's not true." Like he can't stop saying it. His eye is a ring of terrified white in the dark. 

"Then why are you holding a sword to my neck, Kaeya?" 

"I– Diluc, I–" 

"I thought you were trying to keep me safe, and here you are threatening to kill me." He leaned forward, and the blade broke skin. Blood trickled down and pooled in the hollow of his collarbone. "For shame." 

Kaeya made a noise of alarm. "Don't move." 

"Why don't you stop me?" 

Kaeya's arm shook, pressing the tip of the sword deeper into Diluc's neck by accident. Blood flowed down in a trickling stream. Kaeya made a tiny noise, but he didn't withdraw his sword.

He leaned farther, straining towards Kaeya. He felt the cold sting of metal against raw flesh. More blood, itching against his skin. "You could tell them Childe did it," his voice hissed. "If you killed him in revenge, nobody would be the wiser. But would you ever be able to look Father in the eyes again?" 

"How long have you known?" Kaeya said, and his voice shook. "Who else knows?"

"Why do you want to know?" He leaned closer. "What are you going to do to them?" 

"Diluc, I'm warning you, if you come any closer–"

"What are you gonna do, kill me? Dispose of my body? Throw me to the wolves, arrange an accident? Go on, Kaeya. What are you going to do?" 

Kaeya's breathing was unsteady. That and the tip of his sword were the only two points of clarity in the darkness.

"There are a million ways for a stupid young man to die." He pressed even further. "You could throw me off a cliff. Slit my throat, put the knife in my own hands, say that you tried, but it wasn't your fault, Kaeya, oh, I'm sure you tried your best to save my sorry life–"

Kaeya made a raw noise. "Shut up–"

"Make me." And he made as if to jerk forward and cut his throat wide open.

Kaeya flinched and dropped his sword. It fell to the ground with a muffled thump and Diluc's blood flowed faster. Diluc didn't move to stop the bleeding.

"Coward."

Kaeya didn't answer, just heaved out a few uneven breaths. The moon came out from behind that cloud front, finally, illuminating him in pale light. He was trembling, his expression like cornered prey. Diluc felt razor-sharp. Some part of him was panicking, some irrational part didn't recognize his own voice and hands. Some part of him wanted to kill Kaeya's attacker, assure him I've still got your back. 

"Diluc, your neck." Kaeya's voice shook. "That's a lot of blood–"

"Shut up." 

Kaeya shut his mouth. 

"Go home," Diluc said. "Don't tell anyone."

Kaeya nodded, turned and fled into the trees. 

Diluc waited a moment–

Then his body was his own again and he collapsed, shaking, into the grass. His fingers were numb and he couldn't tell if it was the Delusion's cold or how tight he was holding it. He pulled it out of his pocket and it was glowing brightly, pulsing hungry red. 

"What are you?" he whispered. 

It blinked at him. For a moment he was staring into his own reflection, his eyes bright blazing red. 

With a stifled cry of terror, he threw it as far as he could, watched it sail into the darkness–

–woke up trembling in a bush, his knees scraped, his shirt and hands soaked with blood, clutching the Delusion to his chest.

Kaeya's fighting someone, shouting and heat and cold and the smell of blood, and all around Diluc, the screaming of fellow Delusions vibrating discordantly. But Kaeya is alive, alive with ice in his veins. He's not even taunting his enemy, every ounce of his focus trained on the goal.

And then, just as quickly, it's over. The man tumbles to the ground. Kaeya kicks him in the stomach. Any last words? 

I didn't kill him, the man spits. 

Don't bother lying, I saw the whole thing. Kaeya readies his blades. 

All I was doing was obeying that stupid secondhand Delusion. It wasn't my choice. 

You're a bad liar. Kaeya's voice is cold. A Delusion does whatever its owner wants. Any idiot knows that. 

I never fucking owned it, it only ever sang for him–

Kaeya kicks him again. Why did you use his name, then? To taunt me? Steal his identity? How dare you. 

You were looking for the man who killed him. I gave you a name. 

Shut up. Kaeya kicks him again, hard. 

Coward. You know it's true. The Delusion ordered me to and he owned the Delusion. I didn't murder Diluc Ragnvindr anymore than a dagger murdered a man who cut his own– 

Kaeya slits the man's throat, and he dies. 

Kaeya looks around for other enemies, but there aren't any. He clears his throat and wipes his blades on the dead man's coat. 

Well, he says into the empty air. I guess I did it.

Over the treeline the last rays of the sun sink below the horizon, leaving the sky sickly yellow-green and bitterly cold. 

Chapter Text

Diluc woke up feeling sick.

It wasn't exactly the engulfing nausea of his illness when he first returned, which now seemed so long ago. It was… smaller, harder. It was a stone lodged in his stomach that wouldn't go away. 

He tried his best to ignore it as he got up, washed, and viciously ignored Kaeya even as they shared the upstairs hall. They both looked terrible, Diluc more so. He was covered in bruises from scuffles with Childe, and the bandages across his neck, which he hadn't had the energy to change since yesterday, were covered in blood. Kaeya wasn't injured, but ragged and exhausted all the same. 

When Father emerged from his study to bid Diluc good morning, he audibly yelped. "Diluc, your neck, what happened? Did this– oh, Barbatos, when did this happen, what–"

But Diluc was perfectly calm. "A little midnight escapade, Father," he said. "Don't worry, it looks worse than it is. Kaeya saved me." He cast a glance at Kaeya across the mezzanine. Kaeya seemed suddenly very interested in the carpet. 

"Why were you two out at midnight?!" Father scolded. "You have to stop doing things like that, Diluc, you're going to mess up your schedule with the Knights. Kaeya, good job keeping your brother safe." Diluc cast him a look, but Kaeya refused to meet his eyes as he nodded. "Now come on, let's get you washed up." 

No matter how Diluc resisted and deflected he wouldn't take no for an answer, so Father ended up cleaning and redressing Diluc's wound with a gentle hand while Kaeya hovered awkwardly in the hallway—not sure where he belonged other than at Diluc's side, but clearly picking up on the idea that he wasn't welcome there anymore. The memories of last night tried to flash across Diluc's mind, but they were hazy and unreal, as if from a dream. 

Diluc didn't focus on that. He closed his eyes and tried to pay all his attention to Father's gentle fingers on his neck, patching him up. He tried so hard to summon up joy and nostalgia and tenderness, but he couldn't feel anything at all. 

"Did Kaeya get injured as well?" Father asked, once he was finished dressing Diluc's neck. 

"No," Diluc said. "He's fine."

"Well, that's something, at least," Father said with a sigh of relief. "Archons, you two, really. Try to stay out of trouble next time, will you?" He ruffled Diluc's hair with one warm hand. "I'm glad you're alright."

"Thank you, Father," Diluc said. "I'm glad too." 

When he emerged from the room, Kaeya immediately looked away.

"Don't you have work to do?" Diluc asked.

"Yeah," Kaeya said, his gaze drifting back up to meet Diluc's eyes briefly. "I do." And he walked off, down the stairs, out the door. Into Mond, probably, for more paperwork. 

Well, notebook or not, now Diluc needed a plan.

He knew better than to write these things down this time. No, he'd messed up badly enough the first time—that mistake wouldn't be repeated. He slipped out of the house in armour as if to go fighting, discarded his gear in the bushes, and climbed up to the rooftop. He scrambled along it until he found himself on the opposite side where he'd shared lunch with Kaeya a few weeks ago. Somewhere along the way his neck wound had started bleeding again. 

He took his Delusion out of his pocket and stared at it. It stared back at him. In his peripheral vision, Dragonspine, a huge dark shape that suffocated him with its size. 

He needed to get faster. Yes, that was it. He needed to be able to dance around his enemies with ease, the way Childe did. That would be good with Ursa. He'd learn how to infuse the Delusion's chains with Pyro and grapple enemies. That would be a better way to fight Ursa than poking it ineffectively. So screw his claymore. He'd use what he learned in those years with only the Delusion at his side. His Vision had never made him strong enough anyway. 

Alright, getting faster and perfecting his technique, that was one thing. Another: strategy. He had the advantage of knowing the exact battleground. He'd have to draw this one out, the battlefield, but he remembered the idea of it. The hilichurls, the wagons, Ursa, the trees. 

The last thing: resources. He had his Vision and Delusion, yes, but it would be good to keep his claymore on him if only to stay inconspicuous. He needed other weapons. Daggers, maybe. The chains would do largely. Some sort of armour. Ursa packed a lot of concussive force and there wasn't much he could do about that besides dodge it, but the slashing force could be defended against at least, and the armour would help if he needed to fight against hilichurls to protect Father and the rest. Chainmail, probably. Speaking of protecting Father, he'd call upon a larger and more skilled contingent of Knights. They could take care of the hilichurls and he'd take care of Ursa. That would be ideal. And he'd worry about paying Childe once it was over. 

Technique, strategy, resources. Perfect. He'd get it all done two days ahead and have a rest day to be in peak condition when he faced Ursa. 

Diluc stood up and stared up at Dragonspine. It was time to get to work.

Diluc is face to face with Kaeya in the bright moonlight, just after sunset when the dimness of dusk is falling over the landscape. Kaeya looks… tired. It's a genuineness Diluc hadn't seen for years by the time he died. Jean stands a few steps behind him, her expression gentler, sadder. She looks at Kaeya as if she's waiting for something. 

Eventually Kaeya speaks, and his voice is hoarse and quiet. I'll never forget it. It sucked all the life out of him just like that. He didn't fight it, he didn't even try. I should have known... 

It wasn't your fault, she says. 

A hollow laugh. I promised myself, Jean, I promised myself if he pulled through I'd try to fix things. I promised him that as long as he just held on, I would find a way. But he didn't hold on. I don't think he even heard me. 

I know, Jean says. It's not fair. 

It's not fair, Kaeya echoes. 'Not fair, not fair.' Life isn't fair.

It's not. But that doesn't mean you have to like it. 

Diluc was training alone again. It was different this time. Moving through the gestures of a dodging, whirling fighting style. Even with his Delusion he'd never flown so much before—always did have a brutal hack-slash fighting style, grabbing his enemies and beating them to the ground. That wouldn't work this time. Now Ursa was the one with a tail that could handily crush a horse, and Diluc would have to get out of the way. 

It took some work getting used to maneuvering in the air. His gliders helped a little, but mainly it was chains and branches. Lucky, then, that the final fight would be in a forest. 

Halfway through the morning, it started to drizzle, a tiny speckling in the dirt, a breath of chill air. Through it all, Diluc, shivering, sweating, up in the air, slingshotting himself higher, higher, higher, toppling and gliding down and catching himself, jarring his shoulders again and again and again. Practicing how fast he could disintegrate those chains or else go toppling down into the canopy. It was a miracle he didn't break anything, but he didn't stop. 

He was in the air when he saw Childe approaching, a head of orange hair walking leisurely his way through the forest. He wondered for a moment how Childe found him, until he felt his Delusion singing out through the damp air.

Childe looked up and met his eyes, and smiled. Beckoned.

Diluc landed lightly and rolled, coming up in a ready position a few metres from where Childe stood in a leisurely contrapposto with an infuriating grin on his face. "Back at it, are we, Diluc?" 

"Are you going to waste my time, or fight me?" Diluc asked, still out of breath. 

Childe grinned, and then they were off. Diluc lunged and Childe dodged, and Diluc rolled and whirled and his dagger met Childe's skin but then Childe was behind him, had him in a chokehold. Diluc threw a chain and yanked, and they both went flying. 

They went low and long over the canopy. Childe let go with a whoop of surprise. While Diluc angled himself sideways, looking for the best landing angle, knowing that any wrong move would mean broken bones and certain failure, Childe laughed. His hair was flying in the wind and his eyes were dark. "You're fucking insane!" 

And then they were falling. Diluc caught himself on a branch and sent out his own chain for Childe, but he'd already swung himself over a branch and perched there with one Hydro blade hooked into the tree. For a second they both stared at each other.

–and then Diluc's back slammed against the trunk behind him and Childe was up in his face. "Do you yield?" 

Diluc kicked him and, with a noise of surprise, Childe went tumbling out of the canopy. Diluc jumped. As he hit the ground and rolled, Childe went tumbling down beside him. Diluc slammed him against the ground. And there they stayed, panting, until Childe's burst of Electro sent him stumbling backwards. 

Childe scrambled backwards and to his feet as well, and they began to circle each other—Diluc with hands hanging full of chains, Childe with his blades clutched tight. 

"I could have killed you there," Diluc said. 

"So could I," said Childe. "And I was first."

"Touché. Why didn't you?"

"Because I'm having so much fun." A lunge, a skid. Diluc tried to dodge, but Childe feinted to the right and grabbed him in a chokehold. Diluc stepped back, tripped him and grabbed his legs, and Childe barely regained his balance, blasting Diluc with a clumsy burst of Electro and tumbling to the ground to get his bearings. 

Diluc shook it off despite the stinging and twitching of his arms. "You can't keep using that as your trump card." 

"Watch me." Childe's fingers crackled with the aftereffects of his Delusion as he scrambled upright. 

"This is useless," said Diluc. "You're too slippery."

"Want me to fight steady? I can fight steady." Childe changed stance, bracing himself. "Try me."

Diluc went for a grip on some trees and yanked himself towards Childe—and was immediately driven back by a driving blast of Hydro, which forced itself unpleasantly up his nose. Coughing and spluttering, he tried again, and Childe stepped aside and chopped him on the way by. He went skidding halfway into a tree, a soaking wet mess. 

"Now you're fucked," Childe said. "Hydro and Electro…"

"Nasty." Diluc shook himself off. "Again."

"Hey man, first move is on you," Childe said, and got back into stance. 

Diluc flung himself into the air again. Childe crouched, ready for him—but he yanked himself to the side unexpectedly, twisted back. Childe moved to cut him with an underhanded slash, but Diluc hopped neatly over his arm and brought him down with a swift kick to the back of his knee. As he wrapped his chains around Childe's neck, though, he felt the warm touch of blood on his side and knew that Childe had tagged him too. 

"Tie," Childe called. Diluc dismissed the chain and let him go, and he fell to the ground with a contented sigh. "That was kinda badass."

Yeah, but hardly Harbinger material. "You've got a long way to go."

"Aren't you one to talk," Childe said. "You won't even use your Vision and Delusion at once."

"It's because I don't want to kill you." 

"Liar!" Childe cackled. "Let me guess, you're sick of using your Vision?" 

"No." Diluc tried to shoot a burst of fire at him to prove it.

Nothing happened.

Weird. Diluc tried again—nothing. He grabbed his Vision, but it was still glowing, just a little paler—tried again—nothing.

What? No, it was his Vision. His Vision . He'd had it, become it, since he was ten years old. It was the core of him, it was his heart, this wasn't possible. How–

"Oh," Childe said. "I get it."

"What's happening to me?" Diluc said. His voice came out stilted, flat, wrong. 

"Calm down!" He laughed. "This wouldn't be happening if you didn't want it. You killed your Vision. You're being reborn." 

Diluc shook his head. "That's not true," he muttered. "That wasn't me." 

"Yes, it was. You know it was. You handed yourself over to the Delusion, and now..." 

"It was a stupid mistake. I take it back," Diluc repeated. He peeled off the glove. Maybe, this time– "You know what? Just take it. Keep it, for all I care."

"If you say so." Childe ripped it out of his hands– 

–and then he was scrambling for Childe, just like before. "Give it back," he rasped. "Give it back."

Childe threw it at him. He fumbled but caught it, clutching it to his chest as close as he could, and the pangs faded away.

Diluc exhaled. His hands shook. He felt nothing. The panic, the shame, the guilt—they had come on so strong and faded instantly. It felt like a dream.

"You calm now?" 

"What's happening to me?" Diluc whispered. 

"What do you mean?"

"I… just… everything. I don't understand." 

"You don't have to understand it to do it. I didn't." Childe gazed at Diluc with dark careful eyes. "But for the record, it has its claws in you now, and it can't do that unless you invite it in."

"I didn't. I don't want it to," Diluc said, swallowing. 

"Oh, come on, man. Don't tell me you're regretting it this far in. Just go with it and soon it'll erase all the bad stuff anyway." 

"I don't want to," Diluc muttered. "I don't want it." But he held it tight. He couldn't help it—the numbness felt too nice. 

"Whatever," Childe scoffed. "Rematch?"

"Is that why you found me? Just to fight?" Diluc said hollowly. 

"Nahhh," Childe said. "You had a summons from Varka. He's pissed at you for dipping on my exchange. Ooh, and I'm missing, I guess… you're in trouble now, aren't you, Diluc? Too bad."

"And you didn't lead with that?" 

"I wanted a fight!" A shit-eating grin. 

Diluc briefly weighed the costs and benefits of saying fuck you, but in the end he just nodded, his mouth twitching. "I thought as much." He turned and walked off into the forest. 

"You're welcome!" Childe called into the trees. Diluc ignored him.

Me again, Kaeya says. He's drunk, but on the harsh tail end of drunk, where you're still awake and starting to grow a little headache and regret your decisions. His eyes are reddish. It's dark, the sky is overcast but refuses to rain, and Kaeya's expression is indistinct. 

I used to talk to the Delusion like it was you, Kaeya says. But I'm starting to think it wasn't… the right you. If that makes sense.

The birds are chirping quietly. Must be before dawn, then. Up so early to talk to Diluc, when he thinks Diluc isn't listening. His shoes are damp from the dew of night. Diluc's feet are buried halfway into the dirt. The shape of Diluc-below-him is indistinct. There's meat there, still, but not good meat. There's a whole ecosystem living amidst his bones, and even they are falling apart. That was a home, once. Once, Kaeya looked into those empty eye sockets and saw a red infinity. 

I shouldn't have to plead my case to you just for a little empathy, you know. We used to be brothers, you owe me that much. A bird twitters in the distance. Kaeya shuffles his feet, makes one of those ugly faces people make when they're trying not to cry. What, just because you're dead, I'm not allowed to be angry at you? 

He sighs and rubs his face, like he's tired.

I just don't… understand how this could have happened. You always had this fire in you, I thought if either of us was going to die young, it would be me… I don't understand how you could just… I mean, you can't protect Mond like this. 

A dry laugh. Your death has been a PR disaster. Everyone knows you hated the Knights, and now you die and the Knights fail to save you even though one of them was right there. People are saying it was a conspiracy. That you were right all along. You're making more work for poor Jean, who was already at her limit because of you. And the economy's going to go into shambles if the Winery shuts down. And it's a disaster for national security too. One of our city's best defenders, gone… and by that I mean me, of course, unable to do my job…  

But the joking tone withers. 

My point is, that doesn't seem like something you'd do, just up and die without any contingencies. What are you gonna do about all the stuff you left behind? And the Knights, and the Winery? Adelinde's still cleaning your bedroom. She hasn't even given away your clothes, not that there's anyone who'd take your stupid coat. You didn't even leave a note! What kind of idiot doesn't leave a note? And Elzer, god, don't even get me started, he's been a mess! You're such a dick! 

He pulls something out of his pocket—a pearl-white Mondstadt Vision, dead and empty. 

And this! You left me your sword and Vision, well, what am I supposed to do with those? You just couldn't take it anymore, huh? Decided to do something for yourself for once in your life? 

His voice rises. The hand holding the Vision shakes. 

Well, fuck you! Every day, every fucking day I wake up and I wonder whether I could have saved you. Every day I think about how you didn't come to me because you couldn't trust me, and how I could have done more, and how I'm the one who ruined your life, and I wonder if that's my fault, if it's my fault you fucking offed yourself! Don't you understand how fucking soul-crushing it is? I can't work, I can't fight, I can't fucking concentrate on anything, I dream about it, Diluc, every fucking night I dream about it! Don't you understand what you're doing to me? Just because you were sick of your life! You selfish prick! How could you do this to me, how dare you! 

He collapses into the grass, panting, as if he's not strong enough to hold himself up. He plays with his hair, combs his fingers through it. A shuddering sob escapes him, and then another, and he buries his face in his arms and sobs in feeble, unnatural bursts, as if he's forgotten how to cry. 

Fuck, I'm sorry, Diluc. I didn't mean that, I... I'm so sorry. I just can't stand this anymore. I don't know what to do. Just tell me how I could have saved you. Tell me how to make it stop hurting. 

Diluc means to reach for Kaeya's shaking shoulder, to stop him, but the second he tries to move or speak his eyes snapped open in the darkness and the only thing he could feel was panic. 

Diluc didn't remember being in Varka's office, but he woke up the next morning so he must have gone at some point. No, scratch that. He remembered, but it was hazy, as if nothing important had happened. It was all the same stuff he had been hearing from Kaeya for ages. It didn't matter. 

Father had somehow heard, and pulled him aside later that morning. Asked him if anything was wrong. He said no. Father said he'd been missing Knights assignments. This was strange, he'd never missed anything like that before. Was he sick? Injured? Lazy? Father didn't say the last one and he wasn't thinking it, but Diluc heard it anyway.  

He brushed Father off. Father looked disapproving. There was nothing to care about. Diluc didn't want to be in this mansion, he didn't want to be anywhere. 

It doesn't make any sense. He found himself at the base of Dragonspine looking back towards Springvale. The last time he'd felt this weird it was because of his Delusion being separated from him. He'd felt disconnected, out-of-body, he'd felt plural, he'd felt weird. He wanted to throw up but he hadn't eaten anything today. He felt dizzy. He wanted to go far away. 

This didn't make any sense. He was panting, he was out of breath. He didn't want to be here. There was no reason to feel this way. Everything was normal. If it was Kaeya then why not yesterday? There was no reason for it, no reason at all, and he had no time to waste, and, and, and– 

And– the dreams. 

But no, he'd taken care of that, he didn't care about that, there was no reason for– 

He knew. He just hated it. It just made him sick to think about. They were dreams. They were just dreams, just like those stupid dreams he used to have nearly every night, of killing his loved ones, of giant monsters descending from the heavens to wreak havoc on Mond while he watched helplessly, of trying to save Father and failing and failing and failing. And those dreams didn't mean anything besides that he clearly had some unresolved issues, and these ones shouldn't be any different. He had ignored them before and he'd keep ignoring them for as long as it took for them to just go away and leave him with this life he'd always wanted, the life he'd ruined, the life that was salvageable, damn it, he'd make it salvageable. It was nothing like the world he'd left, nothing like– nothing like– 

Diluc was on Dragonspine. Dark suggestions of rock faces reared in every direction, suffocating him. It was freezing cold. He could barely see the trail around him, all he knew was he was trekking higher and higher and his lungs were aching from the freezing air. 

Kaeya's sobbing, at his gravestone. Diluc knew it. It isn't exactly as if the dreams run parallel. Time is shrinking and dilating like the pupil of an eye upon the critical moments on the path. Now it was wide open, every bit of the moment preserved in sluggish detail. Diluc closed his hands around his Delusion in his pocket. Through his gloves it was icy cold and made his skin ache. He held on. He could almost see him now, still crying there, it's only been a minute, or maybe a few. It feels wrong. Everything was wrong. Diluc wanted to throw up, wanted to jump out of his skin. 

He needed to fix this mess. 

Give me the power, he prayed, though he didn't quite know who he was praying to. Let me in. 

The Delusion laughed at him. 

Kaeya was crying, crying, crying. Diluc was frozen in an eternal moment. He was dying, he was being devoured, he was watching Kaeya grovel and beg for mercy, beaten down until he couldn't take it anymore. Tell me how to make it stop hurting. Fuck, I'm sorry. I just can't stand this anymore. Tell me how to make it stop hurting. I don't know what to do. I'm so sorry. Tell me how to make it stop hurting. Just tell me how I could have saved you. 

"How the fuck am I supposed to know?" Diluc snarled, his throat heavy, his skin aching with cold.

It would have been so simple. It should be so simple. Diluc is right there, literally looking at him. All he has to do is stoop down and reach for Kaeya, touch his shoulder, snap him out of it. It's okay, Kaeya. I'm right here. Let me make it stop for you. No, it's already stopped, see? All better. I made a silly mistake, that's all. I won't do it again. (All lies, but pretty ones at least.) 

Every time he tries to move it forces him out, like trying to speak in a nightmare. It seems to be a rule. He can only witness, and the Delusion is laughing at him. Why? What did he do wrong? His motions in the dream drift as they will, but he dives back under the tide, again and again. It's fucking freezing down here. I'm coming to help, Kaeya, everything is going to be okay, as the snow piles up around him, as he shivers and then stops, drawing closer, as his fingers and toes go clumsy and then unpleasantly numb, as his ears, his nose go numb, his hair stiff and white with frost. And still he goes under, and under, and under.

Is this some sort of fucked-up morality tale, is that what it is? Does he have to learn his lesson? Enough. He'd learned it, whatever it was. He'd do anything, give anything as long as it gave him this. He tried to speak, to move, to throw himself at Kaeya. He slipped between idyllic summer night and drifting howling snow like a silk scarf between grasping fingers, fleeing into the depths like some bright fish diving down. If he could just get deep enough… 

It's not your fault, Kaeya, he tries to say, I'm the one who needs forgiveness, there's nothing you could have done, I was just an idiot. We can be brothers, we are brothers, we've always been brothers. Don't cry, everything is okay. But it didn't work– again and again and again, and there had to be a way, there had to be a way, there had to be a way . He had to speak to Kaeya again, there was no way it was so permanent, there had to be a way back, it wasn't fair.

Under his fingers the Delusion laughed, filling him to the very core with freezing cold sleepiness. The snow piles higher around him. He slipped under and under again, easier now in that predawn light, every time harder to try and move and speak, to budge frozen lips and feet. 

"Kaeya," he whispers, knowing he was already out of the dream, "Kaeya, I'm here." 

And then he was there. He was on Dragonspine, and he was freezing, barely awake. His hands and feet were numb. He felt the Delusion and tried to yank some semblance of something out of it, but all it did was show him Kaeya again, and despite it all, Kaeya was still crying as if nothing had ever happened. 

Go to him, Diluc-below-him whispered in his grave, his voice made of maggots, his eyes rotting out of his skull. He was laughing. An insect laugh. Go on, take it back. 

I can't, Diluc answered.  

And an indeterminate sound of despair escaped his frozen lips, and the buzz and insanity fled and left him hungry and tired and cold. 

He looked all around him. The snow was drifting in great spiralling sheets, and the grey light was filtering through the spirals of ice, and the brush was sparse and lined with the finest blanket of white. He was in a cup of freezing cliffs. 

It was beautiful. 

He wanted to stay here forever—more than that, wanted to climb up to Kaeya's vantage point from that dream so long ago and look over the warm orange roofs of Mondstadt. He wanted to sit beside Kaeya and watch the day go by. He was so tired, so sad, and the promised path to fix it was to stay and somehow find a way through the impossible, to see home again. And then he would have everything he wanted. Exactly how it was before, the endless if I could just go home, if I could just go back… then I would be happy… the despair of it that had driven him to… 

Stay, the Delusion said, search, trust, climb… 

But he was going to freeze to death out here. 

Something quiet kicked into gear inside him, and a warmth spread throughout his limbs. Not the strange relief of hypothermia setting in, but proper warmth, a warmth that hurt where he'd come close to frostbite. He felt the ice begin to melt around him, and saw the dim pinkish glow of his Vision beneath the snowbank. 

He laughed, and picked himself up, and started back down the mountain. 

By the time he got to the bottom, he was crying.

Chapter Text

Five days to go. 

The battle layout was relatively simple, and wouldn't be too hard to plan for. Essentially, they had been stopped in the middle of nowhere, a little beyond Springvale. Ursa the Drake had been—had felt huge, but couldn't have been wider than the path itself. There hadn't been that many hilichurls. And then there were the wagons. Father would stay there, or escape on a horse if it was safe. Yes, this whole plan hinged on Father's safety. Diluc would much, much rather he stay behind, but he couldn't risk disrupting the flow of events that much. There was no telling what Father or, Barbatos forbid, Kaeya would think and do if he went alone. 

That was pretty simple then. Diluc would order a rather strong team to take care of the hilichurls, and then he would fight Ursa himself, drawing it further down the path or possibly into the forest in order to hinder its movements and keep it far away from Father. That way, even if he failed, it might not go after the caravan. 

He knew he likely wasn't thinking clearly. No matter, there was nothing he could do about that now. 

Speaking of which, even if he failed again, there needed to be zero chance that Father would decide to do anything stupid.

Diluc got up off his bed, grabbed his lockpicks from his drawer, and walked into Father's study. Father was out on business. The house was quiet except for Adelinde, that quiet everpresence, humming downstairs. Diluc picked both locks and took out the replacement Delusion. It felt like picking up a live beetle. 

He closed both locks and slipped the Delusion in his pocket, and then he set off for the Falcon Coast. 

It was a grey day, spitting rain like the day before yesterday, and Diluc's hands were cold to the bone as he trudged through the half-mud of the path. He stuffed his hands in his pockets as hard as he could and closed his eyes– 

–just before dawn faint stars in the sky diluc ragnvindr 2348–2370 son brother friend forget not whence thou came tell me how to make it stop– 

There was nothing he could do about it now.

The dismissal brought no relief. Diluc forced his mind back to the here and now. It didn't work. His thoughts were racing much too fast. 

When he reached the coast, he threw the hateful thing into the waves to join its kin. No scream this time, no shock. Just the same old loom of Dragonspine and a sick tension that made him grit his teeth. 

"Time off?" 

"Yes, sir." Diluc kept his eyes cast down at the carpet, at his boots. "Just a few days, please."

"Well, sure," Varka said gently, "but is everything alright?"

Diluc tried his best not to scream. "Nothing you need to worry about," he said. "I promise I will be back on shift by the thirtieth."

"Why not the first? Take your birthday off, you might as well."

"No. That's fine. I want to guard my father on the way home from the party anyway, I might as well make it Knights business." His best attempt at a bright smile. "You know?" 

"I know," Varka chuckled. "Well, take that vacation, then. Shall I ask Sir Kaeya to fill in for you?"

"Kaeya has enough on his plate right now." The weird faraway feeling was back. "I'd rather Jean be my temporary successor."

"As you wish," Varka said. "Any exciting plans?"

Diluc paused. "No, not really. Just a personal project I need to finish up."

Oh. Excuse me, ma'am. And just like that, Kaeya's polite smile is on. It's a wash of relief. Finally, that rawness is covered. Finally the world resolves into smooth prettiness again. 

The woman before him is much too old to be up in this cold. She has a shawl pulled around her shoulders, and she looks vaguely familiar. She looks like she's from Fontaine. Excuse me, young man. Do you know where I could find the grave of Diluc Ragnvindr? 

You're at it, Kaeya says, with a sort of semi-surprised ease. Who's asking, if I may? 

My name is Mathilde Desrosiers, she answers, and the familiarity of her face resolves. We were friends briefly, and so I thought I'd drop by while in town… and, well… 

I see, Kaeya says. I'm sorry for your loss. 

Likewise, says Mathilde. Who were you to him? 

I was… And Kaeya pauses. I'm Kaeya. 

Ah, she says, in a tone that says it all. 

They both turn to the grave, but the silence is palpable. Something in Kaeya quavers. He is drunk again, and his smile is wavering off and on like a faulty piece of machinery. 

What was he like around you? And it's Kaeya asking, of all people.

Mathilde casts him a quizzical look. Weren't you brothers? 

Kaeya lets out a weak laugh. He didn't like to use that word.

He did around me. 

For a moment, a flicker of hope. Let me guess, Kaeya says, only when he wasn't paying attention.

See, I knew you knew him well.

The flicker goes out like a snuffed candle. 

Well, Mathilde says carefully, he seemed like a nice young man. I met him when he got a nasty head wound and spent some time recovering at my inn. 

And you two were friends? 

Oh, yes. Well, I like to think so. Mathilde thinks for a moment. I don't know exactly what happened, but he seemed lost at the time. Perhaps a stay with me was good for him. At least, I like to think so. 

Was he happy? Kaeya asks, a certain fatality in his tone, as if he knows the answer already. 

Not at all. I think he was the sort who can never be happy, not if they have anything to say about it. 

Kaeya stares at the ground. He used to be happy. 

Well, time is cruel Not to mention that nasty Vision-thing he carried around. It gave me the creeps. I always said to him, 'young man,' I said, 'that thing is going to get you killed one day.' 

Kaeya makes a slight choked noise that might have been meant as a laugh. I guess you were right. He produces the Delusion from his pocket and shows it to her. It blinks at Diluc. 

Mathilde regards it with resigned distaste. Of course. How old was he? 

Almost twenty-three.

What a waste, Mathilde sighs. What a damn waste. 

Four days to go.

"What were you thinking, Diluc? What personal project? Don't you see how close you were to a promotion?" 

Diluc wanted to sneer at Father. Wanted to blame him. At the same time the thought made him feel cold and sick, and he didn't understand how that worked, and it was hard to think about. "I understand that," he said. "How did you find out?"

"Varka told me! He's worried about you, we're all worried about you! Kaeya's been a wreck!" Diluc stares deep into Father's eyes, tries to dig down and figure out what feeling exactly is living there, but he can't decide if it looks more like anger or worry. 

Still. Varka. Couldn't be trusted. Diluc should have known that much. Shouldn't have expected better from the Knights, even their bureaucracy was utter garbage. 

"I'm aware." His voice came out colder than he meant it to, and then everything was weird again. 

"Not to mention you haven't been sleeping well, I've heard you moving around and talking in your sleep in the middle of the night, and you never talk to us anymore. Would you just tell me what's wrong?" 

Diluc just stared. There was nothing left to say. Father was only worried now because of the Knights thing, after all… it didn't matter. If he could get it back under control and kill Ursa then everything would be fine, and Father would leave him alone, and so would Kaeya. Everyone would finally leave him the hell alone. He just needed to get through this final stretch. 

"You stole it, didn't you?" Father asked. "You went into my room and stole it! That's why you're acting like this! Diluc, you must give it back, it's dangerous in inexperienced hands." A wildness in his eyes. Ah, so he'd tasted that sharpness too, and noticed it in Diluc. Must be why he was so agitated. Hypocrite. Well, Diluc would take its sweet poison for both of them. 

"Stole what, Father? What's dangerous?"

Father stared into his eyes for a long moment, as if searching for answers in the apathetic film Diluc threw over his expression. Whatever he was looking for, he didn't seem to find it. He leaned back, looking defeated. "Never mind. You may go."

As Diluc turned to leave, though, Father said, "Son, wait." He took a breath. "Take care of yourself, will you?" 

Diluc glanced back at him, and all of a sudden he felt as if he was careening further and further away from Father by the second, hurtling towards some unseen ending. 

He was close now. Very, very close. 

"Yes, Father. I'll try." 

Three days to go. 

It was time to set up his gear. He had the weekend, that was all. The weekend, and on Monday he would fight. 

He wasn't sure where the certainty came from, but sometime in the last few days, probably, or maybe he'd always known—ever since he touched that Delusion and past, present and future became one in his mind. He was frozen in one crystalline moment, frozen as if in amber inside his Delusion. Frozen inside something immovable, a path he'd walked before and one he'd walk again. He just wasn't sure what the moment was yet. Everything was wrong still. He was waiting. 

He had no choice. He would do what was necessary. He would walk this path until it ended, with faith in his Delusion. 

He missed his home. He missed Kaeya. He missed his fucking bird. He wondered who's feeding her now. 

It was cold nowadays, always so cold. He didn't think he could remember a time when he'd been fully warm since he got here. Even before then, this damn cold pervaded every part of him, all the way down to his bones. There was no time for luxuries, hot baths, thick blankets, no time for sitting by the fire with Father and Elzer as they broke their fast. He left behind them as they talked, like a ghost in his own home, and they were used to it by now. 

Wagner supplied him with some light chainmail secondhand for a pretty fee. His personal money was running down, not to mention his debt to Childe, but no matter. It fit him well. It certainly wouldn't protect him from any meaningful strike, but it would stop his skin from being broken so at least he wouldn't be bleeding out too fast to kill Ursa. He put it in the storage near the training grounds, where nobody in his family could find it and take it away. 

He hid himself in the alcoves of the city walls, figuring nobody would bother him there, and fitted the inside of his jacket with daggers and a place for his Vision. He ripped apart the tighter seams of his jacket and sewed them back up so they fit a little looser. It was a shame, tearing up his nice clothing like that, especially clothing Father had tailored for him, but no matter. When Father survived there would be many more. Not for Diluc, but for Kaeya. 

Great. Now all he needed was to sort out the guard rotation on the 30th. He'd talk to Jean. 

As soon as he got up, though, an annoying new problem presented itself. 

"Care to spar?" 

Diluc glared at Childe. "How did you find me?"

"Let's fight!" Childe said cheerily. "Varka said you're on break, so plenty of free time, right? I'm sick of interning under your stupid subordinate–"

"Jean is not stupid–"

"Who cares? I'm bored. Fight me!"

"No. I'm busy." Diluc turned to walk away, trying to think of where Jean might be.

"Oh, come on!" Childe dodged in front of him, a mischievous grin on his face. "Just one measly fight. Please?" 

"No," Diluc said again. "I don't have time." He shoved Childe out of the way and tried to leave again–

And then there was a blade to his neck. Diluc tried not to make any sudden movements.

"I'd suggest," Childe said from behind him, always in the same cheerful tone, "that you don't disrespect your esteemed guest to whom you owe a lot of money, Captain ! Or have you forgotten what you pulled to get to that banquet?" 

Shit. 

Diluc exhaled and cursed himself for being a complete lunatic. "I don't have time for this," he tried to repeat–

"What if Emil learned of your little trick? What if Varka did? Ooh… what if Father Dearest did? You knowingly let him serve poisoned mushrooms to go to a party, didn't you? That won't go over well, not when your reputation as a Knight is at an all time low," Childe crooned. "Ruining his precious integrity as a restaurateur, and here I thought you were so honourable… for shame, Diluc…" 

Ah. So that was how Kaeya did it. Not bad.

"Listen… recruit," Diluc said. "I will fight you all you want in May. Until the first of May, I am busy ." 

"Too bad," Childe hissed, his tone going from casual to poisonous. "I'm bored now. Fight me now." 

Diluc reached behind and tripped him, sweeping his feet out by the ankles. Childe made a noise of surprise but didn't let go, and they both tumbled to the ground. Diluc was on top of him sooner, though, wrapping chains around his neck, planting one knee firmly on Childe's chest and keeping him down. 

Childe's face started to turn red, and he made a choking noise as the chains pulled taut, but he was smiling his wide, dead-eyed smile and Diluc knew he'd lost. "Good," he rasped out. "I knew you'd see reason. Let's dance." 

Kaeya stares down at the grave, his gaze steady, his hands folded behind his back.

…What do you want from me? I was a kid when I arrived. If I'd told you I was a spy then, you wouldn't have taken me in. And by the time I trusted you, it was too late. I was already integrated. When would have been a good time to tell you, huh? 

His gaze drops to the ground.

I guess you could say that I never should have entered your life in the first place. But I was a child, they groomed me. You don't understand what it was like. 

He swallows.

And when you attacked me, what was I supposed to do? Just lay there and die? 

A humorless chuckle. 

I guess you would have said yes. But that's the thing about me, Diluc. I'm like a cockroach. No matter what, I survive. 

Two days to go. 

Diluc woke up into the pain of yesterday's fight. His joints ached, his skin ached, his bones ached, every part of him ached. He felt sick. All he wanted to do was sink, sink into the cushions and sleep the day away and not do anything, give up and let Barbatos take the world whatever direction He wished.

But there was a dragon to kill. 

He hauled himself out of bed, got dressed, and grabbed some bread from the kitchen. He looked a mess, if the polished reflection of his armour was to be believed. Pale and tired, and deathly cold all the way down to his bones.

He tried not to shiver as he trudged into Mond. Kaeya was still ignoring him. They hadn't exchanged a word in days. Diluc wasn't even sure what time it was.

He held the Delusion tight. It was like slipping into oblivion.

In town, Childe watched him like a hawk as he passed on the street with a regiment of Knights. Diluc waved at them. Cheerfully. Joyce was among them. He waved and smiled too, and so did Childe, and his smile was saccharine and predatory. Diluc prayed to Barbatos that Childe wouldn't decide to pester him today. 

He bought food, got his daggers and sword sharpened, and checked whether the Delusion and Vision are in working order, the pockets, the seams, again and again and again. He checks the plans and reviews them. And every time, he runs up against Ursa, towering, completely impassable. He has no idea how to even start. 

Jean tried to ask him if he'd eaten, if he wanted any lunch, if he knew what was wrong with Kaeya. But as he looked at her she seemed to understand that whatever was wrong with Kaeya was wrong with Diluc as well.

Distantly, Diluc wondered how Kaeya was doing. He knew he was being cruel, but that was, again, the wrong way to think about it. Who was or wasn't in the wrong. 

He'd do what was necessary.

The sky is deep, dark grey, fading into tan, and an orangish line near the horizon, a carpet to ease the sun's way into the day. The sun has yet to appear, though, and the stars are still out faintly, tiny splatters of light against the dark vault of the sky. A bird sings in the distance, alone. The mountains and trees are nothing but black silhouettes. The air is damp and heavy. 

It is so, so cold. 

I know I said I wouldn't explain myself. 

Kaeya's feet against the grass make slight brushing sounds, the cold dew depositing itself onto his boots. He shifts into contrapposto, as if he's tired. He does look tired, though the darkness is doing a good job of hiding it. 

I… didn't want you to forgive me, he says, and his voice is soft, something Diluc's never heard before. I chose that night in particular because I thought I could… I don't know, achieve absolution, if I took whatever you threw at me. Up to and including death. As forgiveness for lying to my family, and to relieve this… awful feeling that I was too cowardly to share with you. So I gave you the heaviest burden I possibly could. That was cruel of me, I guess. 

He sighs, and the sound carries through the still air and mixes with the wind that ruffles his collar and hair. He shivers.

But then you told me to draw my sword, and I realized that I didn't want to die. 

He stands there, as if waiting for a response. Closes his eyes. He's starting to become more visible now as the sun comes closer. The fresh flowers on Diluc's grave start to show their colour, too. Bright, blazing red dendrobiums. 

And I get it… I get that you were a child, and that you had just lost your father. For a long time, I was angry, but I'm not anymore. I get it, Diluc. But I need you to understand that I was also a child. I was also… we were both just kids…  

Kaeya sighs, closes his eyes.

Never mind. This is stupid. 

Diluc's eyes opened, slowly, into the light. 

On his bedside table his Vision glowed with pure red light, casting crimson echoes of itself up onto the wall, red as the dendrobiums on his grave. They grew only in Inazuma, if he wasn't mistaken… the Traveller hasn't forgotten him, then.

The patterns of the ceiling resolved before his eyes in a dim grainy sort of way. His room was utterly quiet except the quiet pattering of rain on the roof. Under his covers, it was so warm, warm all the way down to his bones, and he hadn't even realized how sick he'd been until the fog lifted. 

Oh, he thought. Here I am. 

Gently, he slipped out of bed into the cool air. He passed the mirror on the way to his dresser, and he took a moment to gaze at himself in the half-light. His face was still dotted with acne, and there were delicate bags under his eyes. His jawline had filled out a little bit since the start of April, even. His hair was a curly mess, and peeking out from under his unruly bangs was a pair of inquisitive young eyes with long eyelashes. Diluc barely recognized them at all. 

He pulled open his dresser drawers carefully so as not to disturb anyone sleeping and got dressed quickly. Simple clothing, a white collared shirt and some slacks, and a long coat over top. There would be no need to fight today. And it wasn't all that cold. He tugged his cuffs down to hide the deep bruises scattered across his arms, green with bursts of raspberry red. 

He hoped that somewhere, in the distant future, Kaeya's having an equally tranquil morning. It's unlikely. But he could hope. 

Elzer was downstairs, sitting by the fire with a few sheets of paper draped across the table and a notebook in his hand. When Diluc crept downstairs, he glanced up. "Master Diluc, you're up early."

"I could say the same to you." Diluc finished creeping down the stairs and made his way towards the fire. The plush of the chair swallowed him whole. It was warm and soft. He leaned back and closed his eyes. 

"Not going out?" Elzer asked. 

"Not yet." Diluc opened his eyes and glanced at the notebook. It was full of accounts. "Angel's Share?" 

"Wine revenue," Elzer answered, scribbling down one last line and snapping it shut. The accounting didn't look done yet. Even so he put it aside and half-smiled at Diluc. "I haven't forgotten about your interest in Angel's Share, though. We'll have to go out and find a good source for that cider sometime soon." Treating him more like a son than a master. Diluc had missed this. 

"Mmmhm," Diluc agreed, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes again. 

"Have you been sleeping well?"

"Not really," he mumbled. 

"Perhaps you should catch up on your rest before work starts up again."

"Mmmm." Diluc nodded.

"Then sleep well." There was the sound of Elzer picking up his notebook again, and beginning to write. 

Someone was shaking his shoulder gently. "Diluc." 

"Five more minutes." 

"Diluc. Wake up. Do you want any breakfast?" 

He opened his eyes. Father was crouched next to his chair, eyes crinkled with humour. The sky was lighter now, faintly grey but at least no rain.

"Pardon me?" Diluc rubbed his eyes, easing his aching back out of the chair. 

"I said, do you want any breakfast? Adelinde is making some."

"What is it?"

"Scrambled eggs, bacon… nothing fancy."

"Mmm." Diluc nodded, hauling himself up and then leaning on the back of his chair as a head rush overtook him momentarily. "Yeah… thanks."

"No need, I'll fetch it for you…"

"No need," Diluc echoed. "It's alright." He drifted into the kitchen.

Adelinde was cooking. She looked so young, but he'd never properly looked at her since… Archons knew how long.

She glanced up at him. "Morning, Master Diluc. Breakfast?" 

"Yes, please." He'd called her Miss Adelinde as a child. When had he stopped? He fetched a plate from the cabinet and held it out. 

She served him a pile of scrambled eggs and a few strips of bacon. They smelled divine, hearty and meaty with a hint of scallions. Before he took his plate away, she reached over and ground some extra pepper onto it—just the way he liked it. 

"Thank you, Adelinde," he said, trying to put the full weight of his gratitude behind it, past, present and future. 

She paused and looked at him, a funny little smile on her lips. "You're very welcome, Master Diluc. You've got some colour back, haven't you? I'm glad."

All Diluc could do was offer her a smile and head back to the table to eat his plate. Father was already there. Diluc sat next to him. Hesitated, his fork tapping against his plate. "Where's Kaeya?"

"Kaeya? Oh, he headed out early while you were asleep by the fire, didn't say where he was going… say, did you two have a fight, or something?"

"...No," Diluc said. 

"Well, would you try and talk to him then? He seems down. Maybe he's sick."

"Maybe," Diluc said, and started in on his bacon and eggs. It was warm and full and spicy and delicious, and he was starving. He enjoyed every bite. 

When he was done, Father leaned back in his chair, stretching. "Alright, I'm off to meet some folks from the Wine Guild. Any plans for you?"

"I think I'll head into town," Diluc said. "Enjoy myself a little bit." 

"Good call," Father said. "Since you'll be working on your birthday, you madman." He ruffled Diluc's hair. 

"Hey!" Diluc laughed, trying to fix it. "I'm fine, Father. It'll be fun."

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding," Father said. "I'm glad you're so dedicated to the Knights. I'm proud of you, Diluc."

It was a phrase he'd heard a thousand times before, and one that he'd never get tired of. Diluc beamed. "Thank you."

He took a walk around the grounds after breakfast, trying to memorize every aspect of the garden. It was just as he remembered, surreal in its reality. He could still reach out and touch the tree Kaeya had broken his arm falling out of when they were twelve, the one that only had two years left before it was knocked over by a storm. The texture of its bark looked like thick strokes of oil paint, and was rough on his fingers. He could run his hands through the hedges where they'd hidden when they had been even smaller. 

The flower beds were changing, now, tulips followed by azaleas and delicate sprays of elderflowers that quivered in the breeze. The forest was in bloom, too, and the grapevines were budding into tiny clusters of buttonlike flowers-to-be, and Connor was checking them for pests. He waved. Diluc waved back. 

Diluc had loved the spring before everything, hadn't he? The dawn of a new year. Fitting. 

He headed into town, focusing so hard on paying attention to each little detail of the path that he barely noticed them at all. The sun was shining down on him, now, the clouds having passed for the moment, and though there was a hint of chill in the air, he was still warm. 

The bridge into town sustained a middling flow of people in and out of town, carts and animals and various harvests going in and out. It was Sunday, and many people were leaving with their spoils from the market overflowing from their arms. The Angel's Share would probably get good patronage today. 

In the distance, Diluc spotted Childe, standing slightly apart from the line around Wagner's place. Probably waiting for attention so he could get some new weapons, although with those Hydro blades at his disposal he had no reason to. Then he deftly lifted a bag of Mora out of a woman's pocket, and everything made sense. The woman noticed, turned around and grabbed his arm, and Childe immediately started to make excuses. Diluc rolled his eyes.

He continued a wide, wandering loop through town, waving at the people who waved at him. Nadja was selling chestnuts to a few small children who looked vaguely familiar. Diluc hung back and watched them take them in sticky hands with big smiles on their faces, watched Nadja tuck their meagre Mora into her coin purse with a loving smile. He slipped away.

It was a shame Jean was wrapped up in this whole affair. He would have liked to spend time with her. 

He tried not to think about Kaeya. 

Eventually, he finished his loop of Mond and slipped out the gate again, smiling and waving to the guards on either side. Godwin and Joyce. They seemed so pleased to see him, hailing him with a cheery "Morning, Captain!" 

Now, outside the walls, Dragonspine was once again visible in the distance. He cast a glance at it and turned away, towards the Whispering Woods. He set his gaze on a bluff nearby.

Within the hour he was sitting atop it, dangling his legs over the rocky lip and looking over, across Mond and its warm orange roofs, across the sunny spring landscape. All the way over to Dragonspine, where a gentle spread of grey fog was rolling across the sky, and, by the looks of it, spitting rain. It approached Mond gently, almost kindly. 

It was so quiet here. Had he ever been here before? Not in his childhood, certainly… he'd been to the Whispering Woods, but never to this particular place. 

It was beautiful. 

He wasn't surprised when Kaeya's presence appeared behind him, nor was he dismayed. Subtly, he drew his Delusion from his pocket and tucked it into the bushes for later. Better not to have it on him. Just in case.

The mist and rain loomed closer.

"Good morning," Diluc said, fixing his gaze upon the blue half of the sky and keeping it there even as Kaeya's footsteps traced a hesitant path to his side.

Kaeya took his swords, held them up, and set them aside out of arm's reach. He also took out Diluc's notebook and tossed it at him. Diluc caught it and opened it. 

"You didn't crack the code," Diluc said. 

"No, I didn't." 

"Giving up, then?" 

"Well, I figured I can't save someone who doesn't wanna be saved." A pause. "So I guess I'll keep trying."

Diluc laughed. Kaeya sat down beside him and joined him in staring at the sky.

For a moment there were only the birds and the wind and, far away, the sounds of people talking, drifting across the valley.

"You're back," Kaeya said. "Since this morning, right?" 

"Yeah," Diluc said. "I guess I am." 

"Do you remember what you did when you were–?"

"I'm sorry."

"Don't… don't worry about it." He pressed his knuckles into his eyes, as if trying to keep himself calm. "How long do you think you'll stay?"

"Not long."

The birds chirped. The shadow of the cloud swallowed up the Windwail Highland and moved onwards towards Mond. Here, though, he was bathing in sunshine. 

"Diluc, please..."  

"Don't you ever get sick of asking me what's wrong?" Diluc asked. "You never get anywhere."

"Of course I'm sick of it," Kaeya said, his voice raw. "I just don't know what else to do." 

The cloud came closer, swallowing Mond's southern wall in shadow. In a moment it drifted across the whole city. Diluc had another moment of sunshine, as long as he closed his eyes.

He kept them open. 

"Kaeya," he said, "you know that we'll always be brothers, right? And that I forgive you for everything? That you… you don't even need my forgiveness. You haven't done anything wrong. I'm the one who's sorry." 

"Please don't talk like that," Kaeya said into his hands. "Please…" 

"I'm sorry," Diluc said again. "I'd tell you everything if I could, I just don't… I don't know. I don't think I'm allowed. Everything's been so confused lately." 

Kaeya let out a shuddering sigh. "It's okay. I get it, I've been pushing too hard, and I… I know it's not the right way to do things. I'm s–"

"Don't apologize," Diluc said. "Oh, Gods, don't apologize, Kaeya. You've been brilliant." 

"But it's still not good enough, I– I don't know what to do."

"It's not your fault," Diluc said. "You can't save someone who doesn't wanna be saved."

A long, long pause, marked by the wind in the trees, the sun on his skin. Kaeya's unsteady breathing. 

"But you–" Kaeya barely reined his desperation in. He turned to Diluc, his eye wide. "You want to be saved, right?"

Diluc blinked at him. Once, twice. His head hurt. 

"Right, Diluc?" 

It was all he could do to nod, and then his face crumpled and his eyes filled with tears. 

"Oh, Gods," Kaeya whispered. "It's gonna be okay." And he hugged him tight. 

Diluc hugged him back, and with his eyes closed, all he knew was the sun's quiet heat and their two sets of breathing, slightly out of sync. The fabric of Kaeya's shirt was rough under his fingers, and under that, his skin was warm, and Kaeya was rocking gently back and forth, and Diluc realized that he didn't want to die. 

Even as he sobbed into Kaeya's chest, he wondered if Kaeya knew why. If Kaeya was just as helplessly terrified of the end of the faithful path. Probably not. Kaeya was faithless after all, and wasn't generally bound by these things. It was just that Diluc was doomed, and Kaeya doomed himself by loving him. It was an entirely different fear.

Kaeya cupped the back of his head in one hand and pressed Diluc into him, as if they could never be close enough. His breathing, too, grew irregular. He didn't say anything. Neither did Diluc. They held each other tight. 

Even as he breathed in this moment, he grieved it. It was doomed and perfect. And then it was gone.

The light faded to grey. Almost imperceptible at first, a light sprinkling of freezing water began, pattering across his eyelids, his gloves, his clothes. 

"It's gone," Diluc said in a daze. "I… Kaeya…" He gripped Kaeya's shirt as tight as he could. 

"I know." Kaeya sounded far away. "It's okay." 

"I'm cold," Diluc said.

"Maybe we should head in." 

"That's a shame," he murmured. "I would have liked to stay a little longer." 

"Yeah," Kaeya said, his voice tight. "I would have liked that too." 

Chapter Text

As usual, the predawn silence. The light is brighter now, though, drowning out the stars in a gentle flare of grey and orange, so bright it could be mistaken for the first sparks of the sun itself. 

Kaeya tosses something at the grave, underhand. It bounces and rolls in the dirt and comes to a halt before it touches Diluc's headstone. 

It occurred to me that I probably should have buried that with you, but it didn't seem worth the effort when it might have been a lead. But it turned out to just be an evil rock that reminded me of you because both of you had the power to keep me awake at night through nasty vibes alone. 

Finally, a smarmy smile. It drops off quickly, though, and Kaeya folds his hands behind his back in a sort of parade rest, hanging his head.

I'm sorry I didn't visit on your, uh, death anniversary or whatever that's called. I just... yeah. Well, I hope today makes up for it. 

He shifts from foot to foot. 

Do you remember the first time you saw that thing? You told me about it… we were cleaning out this half-finished hilichurl camp with Joyce and Jean, and after we had finished, you told me about how you'd heard someone calling your name in Father's room, and you saw, like… a clone of yourself or something. I thought the whole thing was some weird prank, but you insisted it was real. Do you remember that? Because I brought it up a few weeks later and you said you didn't recall. I don't know why you would have lied. Especially about something as creepy as that. But I'm getting off topic. 

He clears his throat. 

I'm going to leave the country with the Traveller in about a week, he says finally. The Traveller's been good for me, these past few months. Jean's over the moon, and I'm… yeah, I'm excited too. Anyway, I'm leaving the Delusion to Albedo to study, and I won't be able to visit your grave anymore once I leave, so I guess this is the last time I'll talk to you for a while. I'll miss you, Diluc. I miss you a lot already, but... you know what?

The last of the stars gently fade out of view as the sun rises.

Yesterday, I had this wonderful dream. I dreamed we were both kids again, and you knew everything, but it was okay. You told me that we'd always be brothers, and that you forgave me, and that I hadn't done anything wrong. I gave you a hug. It was sunny, and everything was perfect. It was so perfect that nothing else mattered, not the past or the future. And in the dream, all I could think about was how glad I was that you were there with me. 

He pauses.

I guess what I'm trying to say is… I'm… I'm glad you existed, and I think I'm gonna be okay. 

Now, I've gotta go, but I'll talk to you later, alright? Oh, and one last thing... 

Diluc's eyes opened into the dawn light. Out his window, the clouds were blots of grey-blue against the red sky. 

Happy birthday.

Back to work today. Father had organized a get-together at Angel's Share later that evening, keeping it small at Diluc's request, and Diluc had gotten special dispensation to attend while on shift, in order to accompany him and the wagons home later. 

"Happy birthday, Captain," said the guards at the gates. 

He gave them a vague smile. "Thanks." 

He was walking back from a patrol out into the Whispering Woods when the scuffed white of his gloves caught his attention, and he blinked.

Right, he'd forgotten. If he didn't take his gloves off they'd get stained with blood.

Joyce was talking and laughing, and what in Barbatos' name was that other Knight called again? Werther, Wentworth, something like that. Their shrill laughter cut his head. 

He glanced down, and noticed he didn't remember where he was going. And then he remembers that he doesn't know how he got here. And then he noticed he had a splitting headache, and that Kaeya was sitting on the bench beside him. 

When Kaeya glanced up and saw the light in Diluc's eyes, he smiled. "You're finally awake. Happy birthday."

Diluc smiled back, but it was weak. "Have you been beside me the whole time?" 

"Yeah, all day."

"You don't have to…"

"Don't sweat it. Who else is gonna make sure you don't zombie-walk into a lamppost?" 

Diluc laughs quietly. And then his breath hitched, and he grabbed the wood of the bench, as if the rough grain could keep him here. 

Kaeya lay a hand on his back. "Don't worry," he said. "You can go if you have to. I'll be here."

"I'm sorry," Diluc says weakly. 

"It's okay." 

He glanced at the clock. A little less than six hours to go, and he was being dismissed. The get-together started at five. A thicker cloud front was moving in from the east, threatening the already-dim evening light.

"What do you want to do?" Kaeya asked, nudging him.

Words failed him for a moment.

"Wanna go rest at home before the party?"

"I'm fine," Diluc said. "Let's get some chestnuts."

But by the time they got to the place where Nadja's stand was, she had already packed up and gone home early. 

"Maybe there's another place that sells them," Kaeya said. 

"Wanna spar?" Diluc said.   

The training grounds weren't empty, exactly, but there weren't many people there. Diluc went to the storage room and reached for his chainmail, but Kaeya grabbed his hand and stopped him. "You don't need armour, we'll use training swords."

"All the same," Diluc said, and reached for it again.

Kaeya stopped him again. "There's no reason to wear armour unless you plan to run off and fight monsters all night. Relax a bit, man. It's your birthday."

Diluc turned and looked at him, and he knew he wouldn't be getting that armour unless he fought Kaeya for it. 

"Alright," he said. 

Their blades met with a limp wooden sound. Diluc struck, struck, struck again in some hollow mockery of his attacks on that day, on this day. Kaeya's eyes were light with teasing mockery as he struck back, not nearly as desperate as he had been. Still, it was similar, the back and forth, the movements. Diluc, for some Gods-forsaken reason he didn't even know, was forcing them to be similar. He would win, then. Just like last time. Here, block, parry, and Kaeya had fallen back, fear in his eyes… 

But Kaeya pushed forward, and Diluc tumbled to the ground. Kaeya didn't claim his victory, just dropped his sword with a hollow clatter. "Good one," he said. A twinkle in his eye. "Rematch?"

"Nah, that one was tiring," Diluc said. "Sorry."

Kaeya offered a hand and hauled Diluc up, picking up his sword and Diluc's and turning to put them away. "Don't apologize. Let's head to Angel's Share, it's almost five." 

"It is?"

"Yeah. Did you lose track again?"

"Yeah, I…" Diluc frowned through his headache. "Yes. I think so."

"It's alright," Kaeya said. "Happens to the best of us." 

Angel's Share was warm and full of babbling voices and the clinking of glasses. Jean sipped her glass of dandelion wine politely. She'd only been allowed to drink since March, if Diluc remembered correctly, and wasn't used to it yet. He was trying to name everyone at the bar, trying to fight the urge to slip away. The air was warm, but deep in his bones he was growing cold. 

Kaeya was hanging around at his side, gazing distantly into the crowd. Outside, the next leg of the journey looked dark and lonely. 

"Go on," Diluc said. "Have fun. Don't worry about me." 

"You sure?"

"Certain. You've had a hard week, you deserve it. I'll be sleeping over here." He used the sleep/wake terminology more to keep Kaeya calm than anything. It was a euphemism and they both knew it. 

"You sure you don't want me to sit by you?"

"I'll be fine," Diluc said. "I like it here." 

"...Thanks. Come find me if you need anything." And Kaeya slipped away.

Beyond the warm roar of conversation, the sound of light rain began to patter on the roof. 

Diluc closed his eyes.

He was sitting on his horse, feeling it lope gently under him, the sweat on its back barely visible in the darkening twilight. He glanced up. In the distance, the outline of mountains, fuzzy and vague.

There—Dragonspine. 

A panic so strong he could barely breathe struck him. 

How long had he been out here? Did they pass Springvale? He looked around, but there were no landmarks in sight except Dragonspine, looming, watching him. The trees were dark. He couldn't hear if there was any motion over the gentle pattering of the rain. This was bad. 

He'd replayed the events over and over and over and over in his head, but never this… nothing, this waiting that he hadn't known was waiting, this awful quiet, and it was too familiar. That feeling invaded him, the feeling that for years had stopped him from riding at night in the rain, the feeling that he was here again, that he had always been here. 

There wasn't enough time. He wasn't ready. Just one more day, one more day. How could he have let today pass so quickly? How could he have wasted it? He wanted more hours to waste. He didn't want to be here. He wanted to be anywhere else. He wanted to eat bread and cheese and jam with Kaeya on the roof in the sun one last time, wanted to be warm and safe, wanted Father to hug him, he wanted to be in his bed at home, he was scared, he was–

He tried so, so hard not to panic, as the forest pressed down upon him and, in his armourless clothing, he broke into a cold sweat, his fingers tightening around the reins. Oh, Barbatos, he was thirsty, hungry, he was too tired for this, he shouldn't have sparred or fought today. There was nothing he could do now but wait and pray. 

"I wanted to become a Knight, too, when I was your age."

Father, please, I just need a little more time, a few more wasted hours and maybe he would be okay with this, a little more time and maybe he could face this with his head high–

"However, I wasn't fit for the job," Father chuckled. "The gods also had other plans for me."

Diluc stared at the neck of the horse and tried to remember the plan, but his mind had gone perfectly, entirely blank, and the more he panicked, the more empty it got. And still, Father continued that awful you're-a-man-now spiel, like a song he'd heard a million times. This didn't make him a man. He had been a man yesterday. Why was he still here, then? Didn't he do it right? Didn't he deserve it? Was this what he deserved? The rain, the mud? It wasn't fair. 

"But you've succeeded where I failed… the Knights of Favonius are lucky to count someone as brilliant as you among their ranks."

And, to Diluc's horror, he felt his mouth opening. And, though he didn't even remember what the words had been, he knew they were the same when he heard them. "Please don't belittle yourself, Father. You contribute to Mondstadt as much as the Knights but in a different way."

"You're right!" Father laughed, and retreated back into the wagon. 

"I know I am…" Diluc murmured.

A pause, which Diluc had been waiting for. And then– 

"Diluc." Father's voice was soft. "I'm so proud of you, my son." 

And Diluc thought, Father, I would do anything for you. 

And so, when poor, naive Emil's metal bird opened its wings, when the Electro-purple Delusion inside of it started to sing, Diluc didn't even stop it. He just closed his eyes. And when the shadow of Ursa fell over the countryside, as the cries of hilichurls sounded out from the forest, as his horse began to panic and rear, he was calm, he was… 

He was yanking his horse to a halt, dismounting and slashing the harness that tied it to the wagon before it could pull away in its panic. He tried to hold it so he could put Father on it and send him to safety, but it was too fast and it galloped off. The rest of the horses were gone now too, and the Knights were trying to fend the hilichurls off, and shit, he forgot to get a better cavalry team, he was such an idiot. And shit, there were so many hilichurls. 

With a rallying cry, Diluc drew the attention of the largest concentration of them. It wasn't a wise choice by any metric, but at least it distracted them, which let the Knights rally and start a more concentrated attack. 

"Circle the wagon!" Diluc called. "Don't let them touch the civilians!"

Several Knights were staring behind him, pointing, eyes wide in terror. But he knew already. The end of the path was within view. The heavy stomping of Ursa's legs shook the muddy ground, and Diluc's fingers were freezing cold as he reached into his pocket and closed his hand around the Delusion. It's glowing, pulsing to his heartbeat. It knows. 

"I know!" he called. "Focus on the hilichurls! I'll kill the dragon!" 

"How in Barbatos' name are you planning to fight that thing?!" Joyce cried, fending off a glancing blow from a hilichurl. 

"Just trust me!" 

And because he was their dependable prodigy, Cavalry Captain Diluc—and because he had a Vision—they turned to do their jobs. 

The rain was coming down harder, now, and through it, the sound of that Delusion singing, singing, singing. Ursa roared and staggered closer. Father was poking his head out of the wagon, and apparently hadn't spotted Ursa yet because his gaze was fixed on Diluc. "What's going on?" he called.

Diluc bit back a frustrated scream. "Stay in the wagon, Father!"

"But–"

"Stay inside! I mean it!" Diluc glanced back. Not good. Ursa was bearing down on him and he was already out of breath. 

Father followed his gaze, and his eyes went wide. "What is that thing?!" 

Diluc shoved him back inside the wagon, dripping all over the floor. In here the rain was deafening against the canvas. "Stay there," he rasped, shoving Father into the bench with as much force as he could manage. "Stay and don't move until I come get you. Don't get involved."

"Diluc, what's going on out there?" 

"Father, please be quiet!" Diluc bit down the frustration rising in his chest. "I know you're confused but just–" A scream from outside, and he twitched– "just stay out of sight and please stay inside." 

"Y– yes. Of course. Good luck. Please stay safe."

"Good." Diluc got up and started out—then he paused. "One last thing." His voice came out strangled. 

"Yes?"

"I love you, and… I'm so sorry." 

As he stepped into the rain and into Ursa's shadow, Father was calling his name, asking him what he meant, but he wasn't listening. He was facing down Ursa, a huge shadow in the dark, its yellow reptile's eyes like searchlights in the downpour. Its eyes fixed on the wagon, but Diluc let out a burst of flame, and its eyes focused in on him. 

For a long time, Diluc had been considering exactly what he'd say to Ursa when he saw it again. Or whether he'd have the courage or clarity to say anything at all. But here in the dying light, with everything laid out clear, every piece of every game he'd been playing, every path he'd been walking for years pointing towards one single enemy, he knew that there was nothing left to say at all.

He formed two flaming chains and lashed himself to two trees. With a third chain, he reached up and finally made contact with Ursa's horns, and it roared and jerked its head backwards, sending Diluc hurtling towards it. 

He let go of the tether chains, and he flew. 

Chapter Text

Diluc tried to get leverage with another chain around Ursa's neck, but it batted it down and he was forced to catch himself on another one, jarring his shoulder painfully. The rain was making it hard to see. He swung and landed to the side, yanking his chains behind him. It shouldn't have pulled Ursa very strongly, given that it was four times the height of a tree and twice as wide, but the Delusion flared and Ursa roared and flinched back, one stumbling claw landing unsettlingly close to Diluc and covering him in mud. 

He spat, wiping his mouth and letting one chain go. It dissolved into a bright burst of flame. And he braced himself. 

As predicted, Ursa pulled back, sending him flying towards the wagon. He rode its momentum around, smashing against the back of its neck. For one second he thought he had it, scrambling for purchase on the smooth, sharp scales—cut his palm open, blood on his glove—damn it—but he slipped away again, and Ursa was batting him like a cat toy. He could only cling to his chain, nauseated and weightless, until he judged the top of his arc and let go. 

For a moment, he was flying—caught himself on a branch—and went skidding sideways into the mud, crashing into a tree and coughing. 

Just as fast, he scrambled up. Just like fighting Childe, he thought, this isn't really so bad, it's just like a normal fight, as he geared himself up for round two and Ursa bore down on him, eyes alight with animal fury. Behind him, the bird Delusion was singing, singing, singing, and his Delusion started to sing as well, a discordant tune like ringing glasses that hurt his ears as it went on and on and on and on. He shook his head, shook it again. Ursa only seemed more enraged. It shook itself, stamped, shaking the ground. Roared, deafeningly loud. 

Diluc sent a chain around its neck, another against a tree, and pulled. Went flying, smashed down. Again, and again, and again, and damn it, this wasn't working. He could barely breathe. He coughed, his breath rasped—Ursa swung for him, and he ducked and rolled, and the claw barely grazed him, making a swish sound as it went by. 

He glanced at the wagon. Rookie mistake, but he couldn't resist. Father was peeking out between the canvas folds, staring at his flaming Delusion chains, and Diluc knew he'd have a lot to explain if he–

Father's eyes went wide, and he screamed, "Diluc!" 

Too late. Ursa's claw made contact and sent him slamming into a tree, slicing open his back. As he felt bones shatter and hot blood flow down, Diluc gasped and choked for air, cursed himself for being an inattentive idiot and not insisting on his stupid armour. Distantly, Father was screaming for Diluc, and the Knights were shouting at him to stay back.

He scrambled to his feet, coughing and spitting up blood. Probably just runoff from a broken nose. Probably. He couldn't feel the pain of it. Good, he couldn't afford to. 

He lashed another chain around Ursa's neck, and he climbed up, hand over hand over hand until Ursa roared and whipped its head around. He let go and was weightless for a moment, then lashed himself to its horns again, pulling himself up step by agonizing step. Damn it, how had Father made this look so easy? 

(He knew how. He just didn't want to. Not yet.) 

He rode his momentum around and slammed against Ursa's neck. He could have sworn he felt something crack, but no matter. He gripped the scales and climbed, hugging its neck when it tried to shake him off. It was staggering around, now, towards the wagon— shit, towards the wagon. Through the rain he caught a glimpse of Father staring up at him, wide-eyed. 

He hooked a chain around Ursa's leftmost horn and scrambled up it as best he could, but Ursa caught on too quickly and roared, still heading for the wagon. Diluc hooked another chain around the other side of its face, filled it with Pyro, braced himself against its neck and pulled. 

It was just like steering a horse. A giant horse that really, really hated him. Ursa roared and shook its head, but ultimately it was forced to turn and stagger sideways, driving Diluc into a tree. Diluc narrowly dodged being crushed by leaping atop its head, bracing himself, and lashing a Pyro chain directly into Ursa's eye. 

And then he slipped. 

Ursa roared and shook its head like a horse chasing away flies, and Diluc clung to it as he was slammed, again and again, against the sharp-edged scales, his misdirected Pyro flaring up in pillars above the canopy. This was fine. Good, even. He'd got in a hit on the eye, so Ursa had no depth perception, now, if he could just–

His chain broke–

Shit– 

Father screamed—no!—as he fell, but he caught himself with another chain to Ursa's neck and skidded down to the ground, his heart pounding. Close shave. Ursa swung its neck to the side, stomping at him like a bug as the momentum dragged him across the ground. He rolled and dematerialized the chain just in time to not get crushed, scrambled to his feet and, heaving for breath, settled instead on backing away from the caravan. 

He drew his claymore and held it between him and Ursa. It was all he could do to fend its slashes off with bursts of concentrated Pyro as it turned towards him, fury in its eyes. At least it wasn't heading for the wagon. 

He was shivering, he realized. The claymore felt heavy in his hands, and the harder the rain got, the deeper the mud and the harder it was to wade through it. He was already running out of stamina, and Ursa didn't even look tired. At least its eye was bleeding, half-closed and more than a little sickening to look at with mud and blood smeared across the seared cornea. No matter. The beast deserved that and more. Even still… 

He had to go faster.

He put his claymore away and rushed Ursa, trying to mount it again. It snapped at his chain and managed to catch it, whipped him sideways. He barely managed to catch himself on a tree and somewhat steady his landing, flinging himself upwards again and aiming for the horns. If he could get in the nostril, eye or mouth, maybe… the belly was a no-go, but the armpits, other joints? He'd much rather stay far, far away from those nasty claws, so he'd start with the top half of the face. 

Ursa turned around and snapped at him in midair, narrowly missing his boot but catching his coat. He seared that section of his coattails off—fine suit, what a shame—and caught himself with two chains on each horn, pulling them taut and perching atop its forehead. Once it was finished trying to shake him off, he anchored himself upon one horn and rappelled down towards its other eye, trying to get a good angle to stab it and blind Ursa completely–

It jerked its head.

His feet slipped. 

He slammed against its jaw, knocking all the breath out of him, something cracked, and Ursa's teeth caught on his Vision's clasp and wrenched it half open, and he had no choice but to let go but its swinging jaw slammed him sideways, towards the wagon and

He woke up on the ground, head spinning, half-drowning in mud and blood. There was a great dark rumbling shape over him with one and a half furious yellow eyes, and then he remembered where he was, and that the man descending into screaming hysteria somewhere behind him was Father. Let go of me let go of me oh Gods Diluc Diluc no no no wake up no no please no– and the remaining Knights, past the sweet sickly smell of dead bodies, the gleeful screaming of hilichurls, Master Crepus, please, there's nothing you can do!  

Diluc tried to get up, but he fell over. Tried again. Fell again, this time wondering how it was that the inside of his head felt so strange and cold. He could feel the mud getting in, but it didn't hurt at all. Ursa was looming over him and he couldn't find his sword, and blood and something fleshy was dripping into his eyes, his Vision's light was guttering and failing and he couldn't move and– 

He was going to lose. 

He was going to die.

And more importantly, Father was going to die, and there was only one thing he could do about it. 

His Delusion sings ever so sweetly in his ear, a discordant, shining thing, a sound that made him want to claw his skin off, and he is standing and staring down at himself, bright red eyes blazing in the dark. His head is cracked open like an egg, dripping its insides across his face. He sways upright like a puppet to the Delusion's song. 

"Let me win," he prayed into the mud, half to Barbatos, half to himself. "Please, I have to win."

Pray, Diluc-below-him sings, his mouth a gaping, rotting hole, his body melting into mud like candle wax, kneel, beg, ask, answer, one long low command. 

And he finally understood what Childe meant, because there is brain matter dripping into his eyes. 

He's already dead. He's been dead for several minutes.

"Please," he begged the Delusion. "Anything. I'll give anything. I'm yours."  

And he hears nothing except the glassy screech of the Delusion, droning on and on and on, and his body is freezing cold, everything about him is freezing cold. 

He got up, and there were only chains. No more fire. And they gripped Ursa, and try as Ursa might, it couldn't get away. He yanked it downwards and drove his bare hand into Ursa's other eye, dug at it like sand. Ursa snapped at him, but he was simply too fast. He came around again and plunged the chains into its nose, its mouth, until its face was bleeding like one big open wound. 

Ursa screamed, deafeningly loud, but not as loud as the squeal of the Delusion's song. It sounded like a human scream—and over it, Diluc's harsh laughter, an inhuman sound like metal on glass. 

He swung himself down and landed, neatly, on the ground.

Ursa screamed once more, shook its head and turned to flee. Its feet pounding the ground sounded like the beat of Diluc's heart—irregular and stumbling, running on borrowed power. 

"Good job, Diluc!" Father's voice was shrill, alarm and relief and horror and fear. "You did it! Come back, now, hurry, you need a healer!" 

Yes, he had… Ursa was fleeing… and now it would be, with everyone, and they… and it wasn't total victory, but Father was alive and Diluc was tired, he was so, so tired... it was good enough… at least, in Father's arms, at least he could, in Father's arms, he could... 

…but… 

No, the Delusion shrieks, no! 

"No," Diluc echoed obediently, too weary now to resist.

And the singing gets louder. 

Diluc stepped forward and caught Ursa by the neck with one chain. Try as it might, Ursa couldn't budge. He yanked it back and smashed its neck to the ground. It made a panicked screeching noise and snapped at him uselessly, beating its wings in the mud, trying to get away. 

Yes, yes, yes, yes, the Delusion sings. He reached down, and the hilt of his claymore was at his feet. It did not channel fire. It was saturated, the second he touched it, with a rich dark glow, until it was a part of him. He stepped forward, wading through the mud. Ursa tried to fight him, but he was unshakable. 

With a deep breath in, he raised his claymore. The Delusion sharpens his blade.

Cutting off its head was easier than slicing through silk. 

And now, Diluc was cold, and the world went quiet once more before the normal sounds returned—the pouring rain, Father yelling, the jabbering of hilichurls. Right, he should help with the hilichurls… Gods, he was so cold, his head hurt so much… he was so damn tired, and his breath tasted of blood. He gasped for air, dizzy, suddenly, out of breath, suddenly, so cold… turned, and Gods, there were so many hilichurls… he had to help them… blood in his eyes, he couldn't wipe it away, there was too much, he was too out of breath, too tired… he could feel his heart in his chest, starting to stutter and fail, and... 

Father broke free of the Knight holding him back and stumbled out into the rain, crying out for Diluc. Diluc staggered towards him, barely noticing as his Vision's clasp failed and it fell to the ground with a dim thump. He tried to smile at Father… I did it, Father, did you see, aren't you proud? But the words came out as a wet cough that tore at his chest. He fell to his knees, gasping for a few more breaths of stolen air.

The Delusion hummed. Quiet, sharp-edged, and his head pounded out a quiet agony. He closed his eyes. 

When he opened them again, everything was clear for a single moment—the hilichurls making a break for Father, the three uninjured Knights remaining trying to fend them off, the pools of blood in the mud slowly being diluted by the rain, wow, that was a lot of blood… Father, arms outstretched, with an indescribable look on his face.

Shit, Diluc thought. I'm not ready. 

The world slipped away sideways, and everything stopped hurting.

Chapter Text

Diluc, in Father's study.

Utter quiet. The bright moonlight streaming through the windows. A sort of tension, here, an unresolved pathway—a him that wanted back in, a him that didn't know that he was, is, will be in the rain, in the mud. But for now, quiet. A lovely evening. 

Beyond the door, two boys talking. 

"No, I could. Totally. I bet I could take a regisvine." 

"I think being Captain has gone to your head." 

"Come on." A grin in Diluc's voice. "You know you want to see me try."

"Yeah, I really want to see you get yourself killed." Kaeya, sarcastic, but having fun. 

"Yeah, but wouldn't it be fun, though?"

"I mean, go ahead and try, but I'm not gonna help you when you get iced to death. Have fun getting killed by a plant, loser." 

"I wouldn't get iced to death. I have my Vision." 

"Visions don't protect you from stupid life choices." 

"It'll protect me from the cold, it's a Pyro Vision."

"Yeah, but like…" A pause. "That is one giant plant, dude." 

"So?" 

"So hear me out. We fight a regisvine together, and I save you when you fail and I steal all the glory for myself." 

"Killjoy!" 

"Alright, alright, you two!" Adelinde, downstairs. "You're going to wake everyone in Mondstadt! Go to bed!"

"Like she's one to talk." A mutual snicker. "See you tomorrow?" 

"Yeah. Goodnight. Sleep well."

"I'd say the same to you, but there's no rest for the wicked–"

"Oh, shut up!" A brief scuffle, a laugh from both. "Alright, goodnight."

"Yeah, g'night."

Diluc's footfalls, passing the door to Father's study–

Diluc, he calls, Diluc. 

The bootfalls, pausing. The door opening, slowly, and there—Diluc, seventeen, young and proud and a bit scruffy after a long day of fighting.

Diluc, he sings.

Diluc, stepping across the room, opening the unlocked drawer and the unlocked box to find something that glows, bright red like dendrobiums onto his face. It is said that dendrobiums bloom most enchantingly where much blood was spilled.

Diluc, reaching down to touch it–

The Delusion, which had been a Snezhnayan man in a hooded cloak at the moment, had slammed Diluc's face into the wall. Diluc's Vision had flared and he'd swung his claymore again, half-hearted at best. He had already been fighting for so long, after all. Kaeya'd been watching from the rafters. He'd felt vindicated in his suspicion and justified in his stalking. He'd readied himself to step in, but even he hadn't been quite fast enough. 

The man had kicked out Diluc's knees and kicked him in the head, again, again, again, until he lay still. 

Kaeya had rushed the man, stealthy despite his urgency, but the man had felt his presence, tied him up with burning chains. Still, he'd struggled as the man approached Diluc— Do something, Diluc, unless you're just going to sit there and wait for me to save you!  

But Diluc could only groan as the man gripped him by his throat and held him up to the fading sunlight streaming from the window. 

The man, who had been looking forward to being assigned a new Delusion after the shitshow this secondhand one had put him through, had taken out Diluc's Delusion—and from Kaeya, a mutter, How did you get that—Fatui–! But he hadn't been able to do anything. The man had smiled, listening close to the Delusion's song, and pressed it to Diluc's chest. Hard.

At first, Diluc had stiffened. And then, as the colour drained from his face, he had choked, his eyes widening. He had thought he'd been prepared, but, but, but–

–it hurts. 

He had cast a wide-eyed glance at Kaeya, tried to call for help, but his voice had come out wrong. That had been when Kaeya had realized what was happening. He had thrashed against his chains, to no avail. 

Diluc! Do something! Fight, you have to fight! Get away from him! 

Diluc had convulsed once, twice, making an inhuman rattling noise as the last of the light had drained out of his eyes. His Vision, hanging from his belt, had flickered and gone empty, but Kaeya hadn't noticed. 

The man had dropped Diluc to the ground after a moment and tossed the Delusion unceremoniously atop his chest. Fucking finally, he'd rumbled. And thus having exhausted his usefulness, his energy, and his debt, he'd left, already thinking up an excuse for his superiors to give him a new Delusion. The chains had melted away. 

Kaeya had paused for a second, his eyes flicking from the leaving man to Diluc's crumpled form, from Diluc to the man. 

His eyes had focused on Diluc's milk-white Vision. 

He had made an awful noise in the back of his throat and lunged for Diluc and shaken his shoulders. Had taken his breathing and pulse, and then had started searching, pawing at his chest and back for wounds. Shit. No, no, no. You're kidding me, this isn't funny. A glow of Cryo as he had tried to heal—no dice, he'd never been a good healer. Diluc, you're joking, you're actually joking. This is not happening. Wake up, talk to me, just– 

–breathe for me, Diluc, please, Father sobbed. Oh, Lord Barbatos, please, my son–

It was raining. The dark shape of Ursa's corpse lay a few metres away, sunken into the mud, and hilichurls were surrounding Father, still wary of the strange red-haired boy in his arms who'd beheaded such a huge monster. They did not seem to understand that the slayer of Ursa was stone dead. Neither, it seemed, did Father, who was bent in desperate prayer over the thing in his arms. It was utterly still, completely soaked in mud, its eyes and mouth open in a vacant expression, its head smashed open like an overripe melon. A ways away, its milk-white Vision lay filthy and abandoned.

It was another moment before Kaeya arrived at a dead sprint, barely a silhouette in the steel-blue twilight. Jean and a few other Knights joined him a moment later, holding lanterns. The stench of blood and waste from the bodies didn't faze Kaeya as much as some of the others. Neither did his injury. No, he dashed into the open circle of churned-up earth without a second thought, heaving for breath. Your horse ran back—the noise—we came to help! Is anyone hurt? He stopped as his eyes registered the crowd of hilichurls surrounding Father. He didn't notice the thing in the mud yet. 

Father looked up, his eyes wide. Kaeya–

Diluc can hardly hear him speak. He's so far away. When did he get this far away? Bit by bit, his tethers to the world are snapping. 

Get the others! Clear out the hilichurls and help the victims! Jean's voice was bold and full as she gave the orders. The Knights scattered. Kaeya grabbed his sword and slashed at a shocked hilichurl, and Jean joined him. Together, though they must have been exhausted from the run, they carved out a path to Father. Jean signalled for Kaeya to go to Father while she took defense. 

Kaeya knelt down in the mud, took Father's shoulder. Are you hurt?

Father shook his head. 

I saw fire. Where's Diluc? 

Father's face crumpled and he sobbed, clutching at the shattered thing in his arms.

Hey. Hey, listen to me. Father. Kaeya used the voice for talking to traumatized civilians. I know it's scary, but we have to know where he is so we can help him. Okay? I need you to tell me with words. Where is Diluc? 

He's right here, Father sobbed. I caught him. He didn't fall… I caught him… 

Kaeya frowned, confused. Then he glanced down, and for a moment he went very still.

Because it wasn't possible. That was the thing. It just didn't make any sense. There was absolutely no possible way that mangled, bloody, swollen thing could be Diluc. There was absolutely no way that was Diluc's brain oozing out from between Father's fingers. 

Kaeya shook his head. He reached down and wiped some of the grime off the thing's wrecked face, and… no, no, surely not. 

He shook its shoulder, said Diluc's name. He received no answer. 

His heart stopped, Father sobbed, he's dead, Kaeya, he's dead, he's dead–

Kaeya took a few harsh breaths, trying to calm down. It didn't work. He shook his head, and then he shook it again. He asked Father a question that Diluc didn't hear. Father just shook his head, and Kaeya snatched the thing away from Father's arms. 

Father cried out and reached for it. Kaeya shoved him away and started compressions, like a proper Knights trainee. Maybe he didn't notice the head injury. Maybe he didn't want to know. 

Kaeya shouted something to Jean. She glanced back and her eyes widened when she saw the thing in the mud, but she stayed on task, shouted something to another Knight a ways off who promptly disappeared into the darkness. Always on task, that Jean. 

Diluc slips a little further. All he can hear is the rain, coming down in vicious sheets upon the whole scene. So dark blue, the night around him. How long until the sun rises? 

A stray hilichurl tried to attack Kaeya, who whirled around and slashed it to ribbons as a matter of instinct and turned back to the thing in the mud. He checked its pulse again and found it cold and still as clay. He tried compressions again, but he was pale, getting weaker, little gasps of pain escaping him as he strained his unhealed burns. He dropped his head, choking out a few desperate words. Diluc, no. Come on, man, come on. Work with me. 

Kaeya, Father whimpered, he's already–

But something new started to sing, and Kaeya felt himself go still once more. 

He looked at the path before him and despite the burning in his throat, the exhaustion in his limbs, he was still. He could hear the twin Delusions shrieking, in the wagon and in Diluc below him, still warm under his fingers. But more than that, he could hear the song—low, and cool, and calm. 

He looked at the path before him and gathered Diluc up in his arms, closed his eyes. He looked at the path before him and didn't say it out loud, but it rang as clear as day. And the new song roared it out, in unison. 

I refuse. 

There was a blaze of crystalline light. 

A Cryo Vision pulsed atop the thing's chest, blazing blue into the night. But Kaeya wasn't paying attention to that. His eye flicked over it and focused on the body in his arms.

He made a stifled noise of almost-hysteria. "Father," he said, and Diluc heard him clearly. "Father, look!" 

He is standing in his grave, and the sky is a beautiful, cloudless deep blue. Everything is quiet around him except the buzz of the crickets and the sighing of the trees. The sun illuminates his gravestone, his well-worn gravestone. Rest in Peace Diluc Ragnvindr, 2348 – 2364. Forget.

No flowers lie at its base. The path that winds and bends through the graveyard and stops here is untravelled except his own footsteps. An unstained pearl of a night, and he spends it all alone. 

The first red rays of dawn have crept over the horizon, soaking Dragonspine in golden light until it looks like it's on fire. Diluc wants to stay in this moment, this undying and perfect moment. He knows it's stolen. He knows it's not real. But he wants it more than he's ever wanted anything. 

Legend has it that there was once a famous drunkard in Mondstadt.

It abstracts into gold shapes—it's a suggestion, a motion, a promise.

It was said that he could hold his alcohol as well as any hunter from Springvale in the off season.  

Diluc is standing in a clean room that he recognizes as a living space in the Cathedral. There was something on the bed that looked like him. It was covered in bandages. It looked unwell. 

"And yet," Father continued, "still he would drink till he was drunk, every time that he drank…"

The Vision and his Delusion sit, side by side, on the bedside table. The Delusion pulsed, healthy and strong. The Vision flickered, the red fading into pale pink and reasserting itself, weaker and weaker. The Delusion was pulsing in an opposite pattern to the Vision's flickering: when one got stronger, the other got weaker. 

Kaeya was sitting on a chair beside the bed, his chin resting in one hand, staring at the thing's face. Both he and Father were still rather muddy and wet, and their clothes were different, ill-fitting. Borrowed. Kaeya was shaking, from cold or maybe exhaustion. In the other hand, he was clutching his ice-blue Vision so tightly it marked his skin. 

"He would not budge so much as an inch back from the bar at the tavern until not a single Mora was left in his coin pouch, and not a single drop of wine remained in his glass."

Father turned the page of the book on his lap with one hand, the other one resting on the thing in the bed. 

"One night, this drunkard was doing his best to stumble home after a particularly satisfying session of especially heavy drinking…"

Diluc closes his eyes.

Kaeya arrived at home, alone, late in the morning, having taken a detour so as not to come across the dragon's corpse as it was dragged across the countryside into Mond, to be studied and made into trophies. He was still scratched up, dark red lines of scabs drawn across his skin. He hadn't even stepped foot into the vineyards before two figures rushed out to meet him—Elzer and Adelinde. 

"Master Kaeya!" Adelinde gasped. "You're all filthy—what happened?"

"We got your note," said Elzer, "but–"

"Diluc and Father were attacked on the way home last night," Kaeya said.

Elzer hovered anxiously. Adelinde wrung her hands. 

Kaeya cleared his throat and continued with clear difficulty. "Father's okay, but Diluc got hurt pretty bad. He's in the Cathedral right now. Father's with him. They think he might pull through 'cause he's an allogene, but he's unresponsive. He… hit his head. They say he probably won't fully recover."

He shuffled his feet in the mud, bowed his head. Adelinde and Elzer stared at him.

"...Ah," he muttered, "anyway. Please cancel all of Father's appointments going forward. I'm gonna go wash up and head back into town. You're both dismissed for the day… feel free to come to the Cathedral, or, you know… whatever." 

He turned to go, but Adelinde found her voice, gaze alighting on the Vision in Kaeya's palm. "W-wait! Master Kaeya, is that yours?"

Kaeya stared at it, for a moment, and nodded. "Yeah, it is." And the metal around it glinted gold in the sun. 

Diluc looks away.

Father was kneeling in the pews of the Cathedral, his arms leaning against the back of the next row. His hands were clasped and his head was bowed in prayer, and the stained glass window was casting red light across his face. 

The Cathedral was entirely still. It was just Father, deep in prayer. It was just Father in the quiet, in the red light, amidst a sea of gold. 

Why are you showing me this? Diluc asks.

The gold overcomes, and it's gone. 

"I don't know how much you know, exactly," Kaeya said. "So I guess I'll start from the start. Father is safe. Everyone else is okay too. And hey, I have a Vision now... Cryo. And it's your fault." 

He moved as if to take the hand of the thing in the bed, hesitated, and let his arm fall onto his lap. 

"Hey… Didn't you dream I had a Cryo Vision?" He frowned. "Yeah, yeah, I remember, at the start of April... you had a dream that you were ambushed, and… That I wasn't there because you told me to go away. And because of that, you didn't realize until it was too late, and you felt yourself draining away, and you were empty." 

He stared down at the thing, shuddering out a disbelieving breath. 

"Diluc, you knew. You knew. You knew all along and you didn't tell me? Is that why you've been– all along, that was the second reason? You were pushing me away because you knew? No, you wanted to, didn't you? You didn't even try to stop it—all you did was sit there and wait to die!" 

And then he stopped short, his eye going wide as he realized what he just said. 

"I didn't mean that," he said hastily, more as if he was assuring himself, words spilling out of his mouth. "You know I didn't mean that." 

He reached over, took the thing's pulse and breathing, as if he might have killed it by saying it out loud. His shoulders dropped and he let out a long, long breath, laying a hand across its chest as it rose and fell gently. "Don't be scared," he murmured. "Don't be scared. Everything is gonna be okay."

Diluc looks away. 

Jean's plate was balanced on her lap, Kaeya's was on the bedside table a few careful inches from Diluc's pulsing Vision and Delusion. He was wearing one of Diluc's Vision clasps on his belt, with his own Cryo Vision hanging off of it and lying on its side in his chair. He ate his skewers slowly, bit by painstaking bit torn off with his teeth. He did not take his eyes away from the thing in the bed. He held its hand tight. 

Jean was on the other side of the room, and seemed rather less comfortable with this whole arrangement. "Why is that thing next to him?" 

"What, his Vision?" Kaeya swallowed. "An allogene's healing traits start to get unstable if their Vision isn't–" 

"No," Jean said. "The other thing. It's not a Vision, is it? It doesn't feel like a Vision." 

"Oh." Kaeya tore off a chunk of meat. "That's the Delusion. They tried to take it away in case it was making him sick but, um… his heart stopped, so they had to put it back."

Jean gazed down at the thing in the bed, setting her half-finished skewer down. 

"And before you ask," Kaeya said, "we don't know how he found out about it, or why he got it, or how he learned to use it, or… whatever. We won't know anything until he wakes up." 

"Ah. Well… ah… how is the food?"

Kaeya finished his skewer and set the stick down. "Bit overcooked." 

"Sorry."

"It's okay." He hunched into himself, picking up his Vision again and starting to fiddle with it. He made a crystal and disintegrated it. Made it longer, and flatter, and longer, and pointier each time.

"Where's Master Crepus?" 

"He's out."

"The nurses?"

"Busy. I'm supposed to come get them if he stops breathing again." His eyes were still fixed, unmoving, upon the thing in the bed. 

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." The lie was pathetic, even by normal standards. 

"It's…" Jean took the delicate approach. "You seem… flat."

Kaeya stared down at his Vision. "Yeah," he said. "I guess holding your dead brother in your arms will do that." 

"Kaeya…" 

"I don't know what you want me to say," he said. "All I can do is wait."

"What do you mean?" Poor, poor Jean. Taking a minute out of her busy day to come visit, and receiving nothing but rejection. 

"Forget it," he said, "let's not talk about it. We can sort everything out when Diluc wakes up." 

"I thought you said it would be a process–"

"I said, let's not talk about it." 

Jean nodded and stared at her hands. Kaeya's breath was a little too deep and regular to be calm. So was Jean's. The thing on the bed was taking shallow, rasping breaths. Sometimes it heaved and rattled, a sound like bubbles through a straw. Kaeya tensed up every time, squeezing its hand tighter until its breathing eased again. 

Diluc closes his eyes. 

Teresia was dressed up fancy, perched on the edge of the fountain. Her hair was pinned up. Her outfit was red.

Kaeya shook his head. "I'm sorry. I can't."

"But, Sir Kaeya, what's wrong? You look awful, are you ill? Were you injured in that battle? Gosh, please tell me it wasn't anything bad, they won't tell us anything and–!" 

Kaeya nodded. "Naturally," he said. "Can I trust you, Lady Teresia?" 

"Of course. I won't tell a soul." 

"Diluc killed that dragon–"

"Wow, really?! Then he's a hero, Sir Kaeya, a real–"

"I'm not done." 

Teresia falls silent, going pale at his tone of voice. 

"Diluc was also... badly injured." He took a breath and was calm again. "He may not survive. So you see, I'm not particularly free to go to a dance at the moment. My apologies." A dry laugh, which didn't sound much like a laugh. 

Teresia's face went grave. "I… gosh, I'm so sorry," she said. "The dance must seem awfully frivolous, huh, with all of that going on…" 

"No," Kaeya said. "Not at all. I'd love to go in better circumstances, but, well… we all are doomed to something." 

"Are you really doomed to watch over your brother?" 

"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, I don't know. It sort of implies it's a burden or… that you resent him or something. N-no offense. Oh, crap, that was so insensitive, I'm so sorry…" 

"It's not that I resent him," Kaeya said. "It's just, I'd choose for him to be happy and healthy instead, if I could. Then caring would be easier. But it's an impossible task, so it's the fact that I will always fail that dooms me. Wouldn't you say?" 

Pretty words, pretty words. Always the pretty words, with Kaeya. Diluc would have dismissed it as purposefully vague and opaque, but Teresia seemed to be lost in thought for a moment. 

"Sir Kaeya, you are ridiculous sometimes. What do you mean, fail? You love him, don't you?" 

Kaeya stared down into the cobblestones. "Yeah." 

"There you go, then," she said. "Fail? Ha! You've already succeeded. It's not like you'll love him less if he dies." 

Diluc closes his eyes.

"With all due respect, Inspector, are you serious?" Kaeya's gracious smile was getting more than a little strained. "It's clearly of Fatui make, and it was given to Emil by Pelletier. Pelletier, who could call in a high-level Fatui agent for a seemingly pointless stay in Mond at a moment's notice, to work closely with the Cavalry Captain that was just targeted with this bird. There's clearly a conspiracy here."

"This evidence is all circumstantial. Even the bird may not have caused the attack." Somehow, Enoch's voice was even more slimy and disingenuous than Diluc remembered. "Sir Kaeya, I understand you're frustrated. It's only natural to want to find someone to blame for this tragic loss, but you must see things from our perspective. We cannot simply accuse diplomats of this sort of thing, especially when it implicates the Fatui."

"So, what, we just let it slide?" 

"Let what slide? The supposed conspiracy you have no proof for?" 

"Inspector, this is literally your job. The honour of the Knights is on the line. Are you really going to let a celebrated member of our ranks suffer unavenged? An investigation is in order, at least…"  

"Sir Kaeya." Enoch's voice went deadly. "May I remind you that as of a few days ago, Diluc has been indefinitely demoted to honorary rank, since he will be unable to fight if he wakes up? He is no longer, as you said, a celebrated member of our ranks. I will allocate our resources accordingly." 

Behind the desk, Kaeya clenched his fist. His nails drew red marks in his skin. "You're making a mistake, sir. Diluc has done an immeasurable service to the Knights and the people of Mondstadt, not only with his prior work but also by risking life and limb to eliminate such a massive threat. Surely the population won't stand for–"

"The population, sir Kaeya, will never know. I can assure you news of this incident won't be getting far. Now, we've already been more than generous with your time off in the wake of this tragedy. Please feel free to take full advantage of it." 

"Inspector–"

"You're dismissed." 

How much longer? Diluc wants to dive into the gold current and sink. Not yet, not yet. This, too, is a path to walk. He must not look away… He must witness the consequences, he must, he must… 

"Can you hear me?"

The thing in the bed did not respond. Father didn't seem surprised. Kaeya was turned away with his shoulders hunched up, as if he couldn't bear to watch.

"Do you know your name?" Nothing. "How about the month? Do you know where you are?" Again, nothing.

Father took a breath and pressed his fingers into its neck, rather hard. It did not move. He grabbed a lantern from the bedside table and shone it close to its eyes, pulled one open gently and peered at it, then the other. 

Father frowned. He sat down, set the lantern to the side and scribbled something onto a piece of paper. 

Outside the window, the day was fading again, and the sun cast rays across the room. Gold, and gold, and gold. Diluc wishes he could dive into the gold like a pool and drown there, and the Delusion says, You can. 

But then… You must not look away… 

For a moment the only sounds were both of them breathing and Father's pencil scribbling.

"If he doesn't wake up enough to be able to swallow soon…" Kaeya murmured. 

"I know, Kaeya." 

"But if he's going to starve, should we–"

"I know, Kaeya." Father set down his pencil and paper and buried his face in his hands. "In Sumeru it's said they have ways… maybe..."

Kaeya fell silent again, staring at Diluc.

"I'm worried about his position," Father eventually said. 

"The nuns move him often, he won't get bedsores," Kaeya said. 

"I mean in the Knights."

Kaeya looked up. 

"The position of Cavalry Captain," Father specified. "I don't know how long Varka will hold it for him if he doesn't improve within the month." 

Kaeya cast a dark look at his hands, but when he spoke his voice held no trace of it. "Are you kidding?"

"I'm serious."

"So you just happened to miss the part where the doctors said he'd probably never walk or speak again," Kaeya said. 

"No, but I was listening when they said that Vision users display a 60% increase in survival rate and much better quality of recovery."

"You're in denial," Kaeya said. "He's barely a Vision user anymore. Just look at it, it's dying." It was true, the Vision's light was feeble. It had nothing to offer but prolonging the pain. 

"Barbatos may yet grant him a full recovery. I am holding out hope."

"Yeah, hope for you, maybe!" He sat up straight. "But are you really planning to push Diluc to fight again when he can barely string together a sentence? How do you think that'll turn out?" 

"That's not what I said," Father said, his face the very image of glassy calm. "If he has a chance of reclaiming his position then I would rather preserve it–"

"I can't believe you," Kaeya said, reddening in fury. "Diluc might actually die, and all you can think about is his career?" 

"It's what he cares about–"

"No, it's what you care about. He only cares about it because the only thing he ever cared about was making you proud. You pushed him harder and harder, and you didn't listen when I told you he was acting weird because I was the only one who cared about him as anything besides a fucking Knight prodigy, and look where it got him, nobody gives a shit about him anymore, he's dying, you did this to him–" 

"Kaeya, don't be crass, you're in a holy place–" 

"Oh, fuck off!" Kaeya shot to his feet. "Are you forgetting who really saved his life? After he killed himself showing off for you, no less, with a weapon he only had because of your inferiority complex! And now you want more from him? What more could he possibly give you?! Right now he needs patience, not your asinine wish fulfillment and not your fucking prayers. And for that matter, if you're going to thank someone for saving his life, thank me! Since I'm apparently the only one who didn't give up on him the second he stopped fighting!"

Oh, Kaeya. Godless Kaeya, from a land that needed no holiness, standing in defiance in Barbatos' holy place and cursing His name. Diluc tries to tell him to stand down, that it was alright, but moving makes him dizzy and distant and he stops. 

Father's eyes were wide in confusion at this sudden blasphemy. But Father's shock passed, and despite Kaeya's attacks, he didn't even seem offended, just… sad. He got up and went to Kaeya. Kaeya didn't budge, just stared him in the eyes, his gaze flicking down to the thing in the bed as if to confirm it was still breathing. 

Father bowed his head. "I'm sorry that you feel Barbatos has betrayed you. He gave you a difficult part to walk…" 

"I don't need a path," Kaeya said. "I'll make my own." 

"Wherever you choose to walk is the path He gave you."

Kaeya's breath hitched. "How trite." 

Father hugged him, though, and he fell silent for a long moment. 

"I'm sorry," he said eventually, quietly. "I didn't… I should have done more… I don't know why it didn't heal his mind, as well, maybe if I'd just…" 

"Stop it, Kaeya," Father said gently. 

He stopped. 

"No matter what happens," Father said, "you went above and beyond. You performed a miracle. You earned every bit of that Vision and more, and I couldn't be more proud to call you my son. And when Diluc wakes up, we will all celebrate your Vision's granting. Together." 

Kaeya made a tiny coughing noise and pulled away a bit, turning to the side so Father couldn't see his face. "Well, yeah," he said, his voice small. "And you had better serve Pile 'Em Ups. With tomatoes. And grape juice, and cider." 

"Suggesting all his favourites, are we?" Father chuckled. "I'll be sure to have them stocked. But we should really include something you like too, don't you think?"

"I'd like for Diluc to be there," Kaeya said quietly. 

Diluc closes his eyes. 

It was later at night, and a certain room of the Goth Grand Hotel smelled faintly of metal. Childe pulled the window closed, then hummed and moved to the dresser, pulled out a sheet of vellum and a bottle of ink– 

There was a flash of blue, and Kaeya, with all the boneless grace of a trained child assassin, had a rudimentary ice knife to Childe's throat. The ink clattered to the ground, staining the carpet. "Move, and I kill you," he said quietly. "Scream, and I kill you painfully." 

Childe laughed. "Sir Kaeya, what do you take me for?"

"A Fatui spy and an assassin," Kaeya said. "What did you do to Diluc?"

"I didn't do anything–"

The blade bit into Childe's neck, and red blood started to trickle down. "Tell me or I gut you like a fish, so help me, recruit." 

"Yikes. You can't be serious," Childe laughed. And then the laugh faded. "Oh, you can't be serious. You think I did this?" 

"I think you showed up with a Delusion, tried to kill Diluc, and then Diluc mysteriously almost died in a scuffle involving a Delusion. Call it a hunch."

Another laugh. "Sir Kaeya, I know you're having a trying time right now, and yes, I was originally sent as an assassin, but I haven't laid a single finger on your dear brother in days. He didn't even get that Delusion from me. And I made a deal not to kill him, and he owes me money! Why would I kill someone who owes me– ack–" 

Deeper. More blood. Diluc tries to step over, reach out and stop him—Kaeya, stand down—but as he tries to move, his world is eclipsed by golden light, so he goes still again.

"I don't care," Kaeya said. "Tell me what you know. Tell me how to cure him." 

"Not a chance," Childe said. "But you can ask your father, if you want to know more. The truth is, he did it to himself–"

"I know that." Kaeya gripped him tighter, cut a bit deeper. "Now tell me how to fix it." 

"Ah! Honest! Stop that, it's going to scar." He held up a hand as if to surrender. "If you let me go, I'll tell you something you might find interesting."

Reluctantly, Kaeya let him go, still holding the knife close to his throat. He looked a mess, now that Diluc could see him clearer. Exhausted and scruffy, as if he hadn't slept in a while. Diluc only ever hurt him, didn't he? 

"Heh. Nice." Childe brushed himself off, his neck wound already trying to knit itself together with a flicker of Hydro. "Anyway, it's not a head injury, so don't bother taking him to Sumeru for rehab or whatever desperate plot your father's cooking up. This kind of thing happens sometimes to recruits with Delusions when they get a little too into it."

"And what do you do to help them?"

"Help them?" Childe grinned as if Kaeya just said something very funny. 

"Stop messing with me. Do they recover or don't they?" A glimmer of hope, which Kaeya tried and failed to hide. 

"Don't bother." The grin widened. "There's nothing you can do about it now. If Diluc comes back, it'll be because he chooses to."

Another glimmer, but Kaeya quickly crushed it down again. "And if he doesn't?"

"Then he'll be a vegetable until he starves to death."  

"Well, can he hear me?" A certain desperation in his eye. "Can I try and convince him to stay?" 

"Listen, if you want my advice, take him home and relax a little," Childe said. "Either he'll wake up or he won't. Keep him warm and make sure he doesn't get any infections, and if he doesn't wake up in three or four days then, y'know… make him comfortable. Now, are you gonna drop that knife or do I have to rip it out of your hands?" 

"Don't try me," Kaeya said, but he put the knife away. "And get out of Mondstadt, before I decide I've had enough of you." 

"This town ain't big enough for two foreign spies, is it, Kaeya?" Off Kaeya's startled expression: "Aww, cute that you thought I didn't know. Let's keep this little meeting between us, then, hmm? Ooh, and I'll be generous—if he wakes up, tell him it's only half a million Mora. Ta." 

With one last sardonic grin, Childe walked out of the room, leaving Kaeya standing there, stiff and wide-eyed. 

Diluc shouldn't look away, but… 

"Can you hear me?" 

A deep sigh. Father, exhausted, shook the thing in the bed's shoulder. "What's your name? What month is it? Do you know where you are?"

Nothing.

Father put his hand in its hand. "Squeeze my hand and let go."

Nothing. 

Father pinched its shoulder. Nothing. Checked its eyes. Frowned and sat back down, rubbing his face and letting out a long, long breath. 

Kaeya stared at the thing in the bed. Dehydration was finally setting in. Its skin was pale, which only made its red wounds stand out more, and it had broken out into a cold sweat overnight. Its mouth was open the tiniest bit. Its breathing was shallow and laboured. It was starting to look a bit like Diluc-below-him. 

"We should take him home," said Kaeya. 

"No," Father protested weakly. "We can still…"

"They can't do anything more for him here," Kaeya said. "You heard them say it. Besides, when he wakes up, he'll be scared and confused. It'll be better if he's at home." 

Father stared down at the thing's still face. He closed his eyes. 

Diluc can't bear to look.

Diluc's room was quiet, his sheets pristine and neat, and the thing was in his bed, its red hair curling across the pillow, well-brushed and soft and clean. It was wearing Diluc's nightclothes, and it was under his blanket, in his bed. Its eyes were starting to sink into its skull, which looked wrong on its young face. The resemblance to Diluc-below-him was starting to become downright striking. 

How many days had it been, now? Diluc can't remember what he has to do. He's starting to slip away again. All he can do is cling to the sliver of red light cast out from his Vision, against the Delusion pounding out a liquid gold current that tries to sweep him to who knows where.

"You gotta pull through for me, man," Kaeya said, tangling his fingers in the thing's bright red hair as he combed it out and began to wash it. "I need someone to trust. Don't you get it? Everything I did, I did it so that you'd need me, so you wouldn't leave me. I don't care if you never speak or walk again. I don't care if I have to do this for the rest of my life. Just don't give up on me, Diluc. Promise me we'll always be together." 

Diluc looks away. 

Father was crying, and Elzer's hand was on his shoulder, trying to steady him. Safely on the bed in Father's room, where Kaeya couldn't hear them. 

"And he said he was sorry," Father whispered. His face was red from crying. "He knew, I don't know how but he knew, he must have been so scared–"

"I know," Elzer was saying. "I know." 

That had once been Diluc, there, clinging and crying to Elzer like a child. But even after Father's death Elzer hadn't looked quite so haunted as he did now. And Father, well… Father had never looked so unlike himself.

"A–and Gods, his head, you should have seen it, it was smashed, and he was bleeding out but he was still standing, he was still moving, I don't even know how it's possible. He should have been dead the second he hit the ground, all of the nurses said so, I just– I don't understand how– but he just laughed." 

Diluc can't bear to listen anymore, but as he shoves, something shoves back. Watch. 

"How could this happen," Father was saying, "how could the gods let this happen?" 

"Perhaps," said Elzer, "it was the path granted to him…" 

"But he's my son, he… it can't… it doesn't, it's not fair… Gods, I'm not making any sense, I–" Crepus hung his head, starting to cry again. 

Crepus didn't see it, but a tear trickled across Elzer's cheek. He hurried to wipe it away, a self-reproaching frown flickering over his face. 

At the sight of it, Diluc recoils. No. This isn't how things are supposed to be. Let me out, I can't watch this anymore. But something pushes back, and the scene continues. 

"I'm sure he'll wake up soon enough," Elzer said. "Why don't I get you a cup–"

"Oh, damn the tea! Even if he wakes up, what then? What can he do, in this state? How could he be happy like this?" 

Elzer shook his head. "We will do what we can, Master Crepus."

"What if it's not enough?"

"Then at least we will have tried." 

Shut up! Diluc wants to scream. Stop crying, both of you, stop it already! He pushes and pushes until the room goes sideways–

The Delusion overcomes, and he flees into the gold like a startled animal. 

That isn't supposed to happen. I don't want to look anymore. Take me to the quiet place. 

His Delusion says nothing. It doesn't need to say anything. All he sees is gold, gold, gold.

He could go ahead, but it hasn't got all of him. Not quite yet. And there's a blue-grey light behind him, like the sky on a cloudy day.

Too curious for his own good, he turns around and looks at what's there. 

"Good morning, Diluc," Kaeya said. "Childe never told me if you can hear me, and he skipped town, so I can't ask. But I hope you can hear me." A sigh. "I really, really hope you can hear me." 

It was reminiscent. What did it seem like? Something lavender, something burning up above… quiet birds, the mountains… the night sky… 

The thing in the bed didn't look well. It looked sick, its skin oddly drawn, dry and rough, shadows growing on its face. As the first rays of the sun rose outside its window, its eyes remained closed. Diluc wonders what it was dreaming about.

And why would he stay here, when everything was so golden warm beyond? Why couldn't he sink down, down into the gold and stay forever? Hadn't he earned that much? 

He had. He deserved it. He deserved to be at peace. Didn't he deserve to be selfish, one last time?

And then he's in Kaeya's room down the hall. Kaeya was cleaning up, lethargic—picking up the gloves from the dresser, dusting the paintings on the wall… 

His gaze landed upon a folded set of clothes shoved halfway under the dresser. Hesitating, he walked over, bending to pick them up. It was a full outfit, black and white and red, with a waistcoat a little too wide to fit Kaeya, and… oh. It was from before. The morning it started—when Diluc got sick. When Kaeya still thought he'd just change into his day clothes and be as good as new after a few days of rest. 

Kaeya retreated to sit on the bed. He stared at the clothes, turned them over and over in his hands. He ran his fingers along the collar of the shirt, the empty clasp on the belt. His fingers found his own clasp, his own Vision, which was a steady bright blue. He held it up and looked at it for a moment, and then he said to it, very simply and matter-of-factly, 

"I can't save him, can I?"

The Vision didn't answer, of course. It just glowed, maybe a bit weaker. 

Kaeya lay down sideways onto the bed, his Vision falling out of his grasp. He held Diluc's shirt close to his chest, a crumpled mass of white fabric. He curled up around it and closed his eyes, and he buried his face in Diluc's shirt and he stayed there for a long, long time, his breath shuddering in and out. Crying so quietly it was barely noticeable. 

Diluc means to reach for Kaeya but the world tilts and goes gold under him. It's so heavy.

He doesn't stop, because damn it, he won't let Kaeya cry alone. Not this time. No matter where he goes next, no matter if this ends him, he won't just stand here. 

He tries to refuse. His mouth is so heavy. So heavy. He can't make the words. He tries so hard to say it, but the world is weightless and strange and it shudders around him, the walls spinning, Kaeya's quiet sobs splintering and echoing in fragments and repeating into recursions of themselves until it's a discordant shriek in Diluc's ears. The Delusion, crying, too—his own voice, wailing, shrieking—trying to keep him down. Don't fight it. It is written. Have faith in me.

But it's not the Delusion that he prayed to as a child, and it's not the Delusion that the Cathedral worships, and it's not the Delusion who fated him a mortal golden moment in Kaeya's arms. He's an allogene. There's a bit of God in him, and wherever he walks is his path. 

For a moment, Diluc is standing above Kaeya. Everything is perfectly clear, etched out in deep dendrobium red. Kaeya stiffens and looks up at him, and their eyes meet. 

"Sorry," Diluc says. "I didn't mean to hurt you too." 

The last thing he sees before he slips away into the golden current is Kaeya bolting upright, the shirt slipping forgotten from his grasp. 

Rest in Peace Diluc Ragnvindr, 2348 – 

Son, brother, friend. 

Forget not whence thou came. 

He is standing in his grave, with the soft soil around his ankles, and the sky is a beautiful, cloudless blue. Everything is quiet around him. No crickets, no wind. Just perfect silence. 

No flowers lie at the base of his gravestone. The muddy path that winds and bends through the graveyard towards Dragonspine is touched only by his own footprints, already fading. An unstained pearl of a moment, and he is all alone. The first red rays of dawn are peeking over the horizon, soaking Dragonspine in light until it looks like it's on fire. 

Diluc wants to stay in this moment, this undying and perfect moment, but he knows it's not real. Besides, he's got better shit to do. 

He turns around and steps out of his grave, brushing off the grass and the flowers and the soft rich soil that clings to his boots. He stretches in the cold air. 

He turns and wanders away, eastwards towards the dawn. 

Feet pound down the hall and his door slams open. "Hey," Kaeya gasps, "did you say something?" 

Oh. Right. He's in the bed. 

Archons, his head hurts. 

Diluc pushes himself up, groaning, and then Kaeya's beside him, holding him up, still teary. "Oh Gods, Diluc. Hey, take it easy. Can you talk? Uh, shit, what month is it, do you know where you are? Do you know who I am? Um–"

"Calm down, Kaeya," he says, his voice a dry rasp. "It's me. I'm right here." 

There's more he wants to say. There's always more he wants to say. But Kaeya buries his face in Diluc's shoulder and clutches him tight and sobs, the brightest and most joyful sound Diluc's ever heard, so Diluc just holds on to him and lets him cry. 

Chapter Text

The party is uproarious and warm, and honestly, it isn't Diluc's thing but he'll do his best for Kaeya's sake. Kaeya, who's trapped at the bar, swarmed by people congratulating him on his new Vision. He's smiling, laughing, but he's just being polite. A few people come over and congratulate Diluc on his recovery, too, and it's… it's nice, he supposes, though tiring. He's not been out for long since he woke up—still weak, still recovering. 

Father hovers somewhere nearby, as if Diluc will vanish again if he strays too far. Diluc has told him, over and over again, that there's nothing to fear, but, well, it is what it is. 

Jean wanders over a bit later, offers Diluc a glass of wine. "Here."

He glances up at her. "Hmm?"

"You didn't get to taste it on your birthday," she says. "Since you were on duty. And then… well, it might be fun, I thought." 

"Oh." He blinks at it, wondering if he can get out of it by saying he's still not feeling well. Probably… but ultimately it would cause more trouble than it's worth. "Thanks." He takes the wine and takes a sip. It's good wine, is the thing. Objectively, it has the right flavour profile and all that, but… ugh.  

"Oh, is it not any good? I'm sorry," Jean says, "I'll get you another–" 

"No, no, don't worry about it," Diluc says. "I'm just… not partial to wine."

"Oh? Well, alright. If you say so." She sets the glass down and sits down opposite Diluc. "That seems a little unfortunate, if you're planning on taking over the Winery." 

Diluc glances over at Kaeya, who has a drink in hand already. Right, Kaeya did drink a lot, didn't he? He'll have to keep an eye on that in the future. "I think it'll be fine," he jokes. "Father has two heirs after all. I'll be a layabout, and Kaeya can do all the work." 

She laughs. "That's not like you, Captain." 

Aha. Diluc feels his smile grow a little weary. "You don't have to call me that anymore, Jean." 

"Oh?" Her expression drops. "What? I—I'm so sorry, they said you'd make a full recovery, I didn't mean–" 

"No, it's not that. I've decided to leave the Knights for my own reasons."

"Well, that's a relief." She relaxes, although Jean being Jean, her back is still ruler-straight. "I mean, not that you're quitting, but…"

"I understand," Diluc says. "Thank you." 

Jean pauses for a moment to glance around at the crowd. She leans forward across the table and asks, barely audible over the noise of chatter, "...Is your father okay with it?"

"He doesn't know yet." Diluc searches for him in the crowd as well, but he seems to have stepped out for the moment, maybe to get something from the back. 

"I see…" 

"I'll do it soon, I think," Diluc says. "Before the relief wears off and he starts asking questions."  

Jean laughs, a little awkwardly. "Sounds like a good idea. Any other plans for the future, then?" 

Diluc hums. "Eating a Pile 'Em Up. Going on a vacation to Liyue. Spending lots of time with my family." 

She smiles. "I'm glad, but I meant your career." 

"Hmmm. Maybe some foreign espionage," he half-jokes. "Get back at the Fatui for trying to kill me." 

She laughs at that. "Is that right! You know, I thought if either of you was going to go into foreign espionage, it would be Kaeya."

Diluc bursts out laughing. 

Jean looks vaguely confused as she laughs along. "What, did I say something funny?" 

"No, no, I mean… yes, but no. I'd have to agree with you there, that's all." Diluc muffles another round of laughter. "How about you? Career plans?"

"Oh, same old, same old. I want to work under Varka, I think." Her smile grows earnest. "You know, grow my strength and all. For Mondstadt–"

"–as always," Diluc echoes. "You know, Jean, I think you're going to be blessed by the Vision soon."

She blinks. "Pardon me?"

"Call it a hunch," Diluc says. "You've got that look about you. I'm sure you'll do just fine at whatever you try. Maybe you'll be Grand Master, who knows?"

"Ha! Well, I don't know if I'm really there yet," she says. "It sounds like a busy job."

"But fulfilling," Diluc says. 

"Yes." She nods. "I suppose that's what really matters."

"Mm," Diluc replies. A minor wave of dizziness is moving across him, and he taps his fingers on his Vision, trying to ground himself. "Well, I'm gonna head over to the bar and see if I can find Father. Talk to you later?"

"Sure! Enjoy." 

The bar is crowded, and Diluc barely manages to shove his way through to the front. As soon as he gets to the bar, Father bounds out of the back room with a wide smile, giving the impression of an enthusiastic puppy. "Diluc! How is the party?"

"It's good, Father! I was just wondering where you went off to." 

"Oh, sorry, just getting some drinks." Father comes around the bar to give Diluc a big warm hug. He holds him a little bit longer than necessary. "You know, we should have parties more often. This is so nice."

Diluc is tempted to comment on how the frankly miraculous circumstances probably add a bit to how nice it is, but he decides not to ruin the moment. "Definitely. Actually, though, I was just going to warn you that I'm stepping out. It's rather loud in here so…" 

"Oh, uh… okay! Are you alright? Do you need me to come with?" 

"I'm fine," Diluc says with a polite smile. "Just need a bit of a break, and I didn't want to vanish and worry you. I'll see you at home?" 

"Yes! See you at home! Oh, and Diluc?"

"Yes?"

"No fighting! I mean it." 

"I wasn't planning to." 

Father hugs him again and waves him off, and Diluc slips through the crowd out the front door. When he finally emerges into the warm, misty day outside, the roar of conversation in the bar dims and leaves him more than a little relieved. 

The streets of Mond aren't deserted, exactly, but it isn't a busy hour. It's a perfectly quiet sunny mid-afternoon. Diluc wanders down the street towards the main gate. Maybe he'll head to Cider Lake, or–

"Thought you could sneak off without me, huh?" 

Diluc jumps and whirls around, but it's just Kaeya, a quizzical smile on his face and a bag in his hands. "Oh. Kaeya. You startled me. How'd you escape the crowd?"

"I have my ways," Kaeya says. "Where are you going?"

"Just to Cider Lake, I think," Diluc says. "Maybe the Falcon Coast. Don't worry, I won't do any fighting. It was just a little too loud in there."

"Ah," Kaeya says. "Well… okay." 

Neither of them move. 

"Don't you want to go back to the party? Diluc asks. "It's for you, you know."

A laugh. "Oh, forget the party. I'd much rather celebrate my Vision with you." 

"Good," Diluc says. "Me too." 

They buy some hazelnuts from Nadja and pastries from a street vendor, and they head out—across the bridge in the sunlight and down the path. Diluc's footsteps turn towards the Falcon Coast. Kaeya follows where he goes, and they fall into an easy silence as they polish off the food. 

"I don't think I ever congratulated you on your Vision," Diluc says. 

"I don't think I ever congratulated you on your recovery," Kaeya says, "so I guess we're even." 

Diluc laughs, which sets Kaeya smiling. But Kaeya's smile drops a little too soon.

"You okay?" Diluc asks.

"I…" Kaeya's voice dies away, though, and he stares into the distance for a second, as if trying to decide something. 

"You want to know what happened?"

"...If you don't mind," Kaeya says.

"Follow me," says Diluc.

As they approach the Falcon Coast, his Delusion starts to sing once more. It's a feeble noise, barely audible on the edges of his hearing. He knows better than to pay any attention.

They make their way up to the edge of the cliff, and Diluc peers down, down, where the water crashes against the rocks. Down to the grave of the nine Delusions from the workshop. He's dizzy, panting from the trek up the cliff, and his countless half-healed injuries are starting to ache. Kaeya notices and takes his arm for support. 

Diluc takes his Delusion out of his pocket.

"Be careful with that," Kaeya says. 

Diluc glances up at him.

"I—it's—Father told you, right? Not to get too far? We tried to take it away when you were hurt but you… your heart stopped, and…"

"It'll be fine. Nothing's gonna happen." 

"What'll be fine? Diluc…" Kaeya eyes the Delusion. 

"Trust me," Diluc says, and tosses it off the cliff. 

Kaeya makes a horrified noise, lurching forward as if to catch it—too late. "Don't–!" His wild gaze snaps to Diluc for a moment, then down to the water as if deciding whether it would be best to dive for the Delusion or try to save Diluc–

"Kaeya, it's okay! Look. It's okay." Diluc catches his shoulder and pulls him away from the edge. "See? My heart's not gonna stop. We're both fine." 

Kaeya turns to him, fear slowly fading in his eyes. His hand hovers just over Diluc's heart, as if he's scared to touch him. "You're… sure?"

"Yeah," Diluc says, and takes his hand so Kaeya can feel that he's still warm. "I'm certain. I had to do it myself, that's all. It had to be me."

Kaeya laughs, and his head drops. "You asshole."

"Sorry," Diluc says, shrugging. "You would have stopped me." 

"Yeah, I guess I would." Kaeya shakes his head, a little sheepish. "Still…" 

"C'mon, sit down." Diluc makes his way over to the edge and sits where the cliff plunges down, down, down to meet the sea, dangling his legs off the edge. He's not scared, and there's no urge to jump. Down below in the waves he sees Diluc-below-him, floating, open-eyed and empty, battered against the rocks. 

Kaeya sits down beside him. "What are you looking at?"

"Hmm." Diluc briefly considers lying, but there's no need. "I'm hallucinating again."

Kaeya glances at him, follows his gaze to the rocks below. 

"I see my own dead body," Diluc says. "Down in the waves. My neck's broken on a rock, and my eyes are open."

Kaeya lets out a shuddering laugh. "Shit, that's creepy. Is it always stuff like that?"

"Yeah, it's always the same," Diluc hums. "The Delusion shows itself as me. It's been pretending to be me since the day I first touched it, or… maybe I created it, or it took a part of myself as its own, or… I don't know. It's hard to explain."

Kaeya stares down into the waves, as if he could see Diluc-below-him if he stared hard enough. 

"It's not evil," Diluc says. 

Kaeya blinks at him. "Are you sure you're not still crazy?"

"I'm serious," Diluc says, and then hesitates. "It's just been trying its best. You know?"

"It tried to kill you–"

"No." 

"What do you mean, no?" 

Diluc pauses for a long, long moment, trying to figure out how to say what he means. Eventually he says, "Kaeya, when a dog bites you, does it want you to suffer?"

"Well… I guess not."

"No. It's just reacting. It just doesn't want to suffer. It will do anything to not suffer." Diluc's not quite the one talking anymore, but he lets it say its piece. "It thinks it knows what's right, what will keep it safe. It's in too much pain to see that it has things backwards. In its instinctual panic, it bites and tries to escape. It'll flee right off a cliff and hurl itself onto the rocks to get away, if you let it. Nothing will be enough for it until it's dead. But if you give it the chance, it will realize it's safe now. It'll come to love you and be sorry. Does that make sense?" 

"I guess," Kaeya says quietly. 

"Exactly. But it's still me. It has feelings, and it exists for a reason." 

"And now it's dead?" Kaeya asks. 

"It's going to sleep. But its body is on the rocks." 

"Oh. Should we be… I don't know, paying our respects or something?"

"It's fine," Diluc says. "We know where we stand." And then he's the only one in his body. It's as simple as that. 

Kaeya casts one last glimpse into the water, then turns back, nodding, and takes a metal container out of his bag. Looks like he took it from the food storage at Angel's Share. 

"What's that?"

He hands it to Diluc. "You didn't have any at the party."

Diluc cracks it open, and it's a Pile 'Em Up. Well, sort of. It's the disassembled ingredients of a Pile 'Em Up, arranged so it could fit in the tin in Kaeya's bag. Except there are tomatoes, and the cheese is a little different. 

Oh, it's his own dish. What had he called it, when the Traveller asked? Once Upon a Time in Mondstadt? 

Well, given the circumstances he supposes it should be renamed to Right Here, Right Now. 

Surprised at his own joke, he laughs, and Kaeya blinks at him. "What's so funny?" 

"Nothing," he says, still smiling. "This isn't a normal Pile 'Em Up."

"Nope. Father made the kind you like best." 

"Did you ask him to?"

A sheepish smile. "Maybe." 

Diluc sets the dish aside and hugs Kaeya quickly. "On my next birthday we're having skewers and wine."

"Don't you dare!" Kaeya squirms. "We already eat skewers all the time, Pile 'Em Ups are for special occasions."

"Having the best brother ever is a special occasion that requires skewers."

"Ooh, sentimental. Watch out, Diluc, you're starting to sound like one of those cheap novels from Inazuma." But Kaeya's beaming as he pulls away. 

"Like you can talk!" Diluc laughs.

"Whatever! Let me make the skewers, at least. I'm better at it anyway."

"Absolutely not. You'd get to kick back and relax for the rest of forever if I had my way." 

"I don't want to relax."

"Too bad." Diluc picks the dish up and pokes at it. "Want some?"

"Nope. Eat it." 

"But–"

"Eat." Kaeya nudges it towards his face. "You need it." 

...Yeah, he does. Even if he doesn't feel hungry. Especially if he doesn't feel hungry. So he eats it, slowly, piece by piece, and he enjoys it. 

When he's done, he passes the tin to Kaeya, who puts it away. Kaeya lies back onto the grass with a contented sigh and stares at the sky, and Diluc does the same, resting his head on Kaeya's shoulder. 

"So," Kaeya says, "if you don't mind my asking…" 

"Not at all," Diluc says.

And he tells Kaeya everything. 

Kaeya listens, playing idly with Diluc's hair as the sun sinks lower across the water. When Diluc is done, all he does is nod. "Okay."

"That's it? Just okay? No questions, no calling me crazy or asking for proof, no… yelling at me?"

"You're not going to leave again, are you?"

"No, I'm not."

"Then I have all the time in the world to do that stuff. And figure out where we're going to get half a million Mora for Childe, you idiot." (Diluc shudders.) "For now… thanks." 

Diluc manages a quiet smile. "Thank you." 

Kaeya's gaze is fixed on the light blue of the sky, the wind ruffling his hair. Diluc turns and watches him carefully. His expression is perfectly smooth, but there's something under the surface. 

"...Do you still miss the other me?" he asks quietly. 

Diluc laughs, because of all the questions he could be asking, of course it's that one. And then his laugh slows and stops, and his gaze falls, because he really… he… 

"Yeah. Every day. I wish he knew I was okay. I wish I could ease his pain, but… some mistakes, you can't take back." 

Kaeya nods slowly. "Okay."

"I'm sorry." 

"Don't be," Kaeya says. "It's not your fault." 

Diluc lets his eyes wander across the landscape, the pristine cloudless sky. He feels Kaeya's chest rise and fall, and his own breath coming in and out, and the wind in his hair and on his skin, and the prickly grass on his hands and neck, and the smell of salt on the ocean breeze, and everything is beautiful. 

"It's so nice here." He laughs quietly at himself. "Thank you. For everything, I mean it."

"You're very welcome," Kaeya says. 

"I wish I could stay here forever." 

"Well, hey," Kaeya says, and nudges him. Diluc looks up at him and he's wearing a knowing grin. "Maybe things'll get even better." 

Diluc smiles back at him. "Yeah. I think they will." 

Chapter Text

He's getting lost again.

Jumping days into the future, days into the past—his life a stuttering, halting mess—waking up in unfamiliar places—saying things he doesn't recognize—this, all of this, this has become his life for the past… he doesn't know. 

He measures in memories—his small, scarred fists meeting the mask of a Fatui agent twice his age, and the agent had recoiled, had shrieked with pain. The energy coursing through him, needle-blooded fury filling him with the smell of salt and metal, a tang on his tongue, a stinging in his eyes. It's so long ago. It's forever. 

The Tsaritsa pinned a Delusion to him like a trophy and she was beautiful and her eyes were frost on a window and her skin felt like snow, so much that he felt could have touched her and felt the soft, cold texture cave and stick to his aching fingers. And he had felt electric. Reborn. He had paced all night, unable to sit down and stay still without becoming nauseous, every inch of his nervous system in consummate, ecstatic overdrive. And he's been like that ever since.

He is ice fishing. He is roasting a fish. He is bashing the fish's brains out with a heavy rock. He is picking it up and it's slimy. He is ice fishing. He is making a fire. He is catching the fish and when he lifts it out of the water, struggling and squirming, its eyes are glossy and terrified black… 

He is seven. He is ice fishing. He is eating a fish. He is being screamed at to hurry up as he holds the rock above the fish's terrified eye. It's suffering! says Papa. He yelps in alarm and brings the rock down—again. Again. It won't stop moving. 

He is lying in wait for a convoy who know information that must not arrive. He is cleaning blood off his armour in his own tent… outside, the stench… they would not stink in Snezhnaya. In Snezhnaya, they would freeze. The life-rule of cold has been overturned like fresh-tilled soil. 

The Tsaritsa gave him fire without heat, that her ice would never melt.

(His Vision—born in a writhing mass of pain and sweat dripping into his eyes and the sky screaming and his young limbs screaming with it—Hydro—justice—the exercising of one's will—the rushing of the spring melt—) 

Spring never comes in Snezhnaya.

In Mondstadt it was always spring. One memorable spring—

But, no. He's no infidel. Spring never comes in Snezhnaya. Rivers rush on, but only within their banks. 

Things are getting worse, he thinks. Someday he will end up like that boy in the bed and his God will not save him. Someday he will end up like that Ragnvindr boy and his brother will not save him.

After so many name changes, Teucer has given up and just calls him–

Brother, brother! Teucer comes running out of the house, legs pumping, holding an origami narwhal. 

Nooo! Tonia howls, running out of the house, bare-footed. I made it, I get to show him!

He smiles indulgently and takes it. This is cute. 

Tonia made it! Teucer chirps. 

I looked at the one you brought and figured out how it works! Tonia pants, a prideful grin distorting the childish bow of her lips.

How clever. 

Do you want it? Tonia smiles at him hopefully, eyes glittering. 

His Vision has been well-controlled since… since he fell to the ground, exhausted and laughing and still unable to stay still long enough to sleep. 

No, thanks. 

It's not an instinct to use it. Every move is calculated. Hydro rushes onwards, ever onwards. The nature of a river is to rush, carrying away anything in its pulse, unrestrained and irresistible—within its bed. And his Delusion pounds away where it's kept in secret. He's heard that hearts beat from electrical signals. He has held his beating Delusion like a precious thing. He has thrown up from exhaustion. He has laughed after six days with no sleep. He has laughed, and laughed, and laughed. 

It's important to keep his Vision well-controlled. Otherwise, it may mess with the function of his Electro. He did try to make a fused fighting style. He really did. Hydro, the unruly child, had refused to cooperate. He brought it out as a shell instead, to make him seem affable. And his Vision did what he damn well told it, and only that now—it's learned to stop fighting the current, and he's pretty sure that's the only reason he hasn't ended up like the Ragnvindr boy. 

He does not go to church, but he takes his Delusion in hand when he receives orders. His God is twisting him into something he cannot recognize. The Delusion is her fist of freezing fire. He knows. The power of a God with his livelihood and his family's life in her hands is inescapable. And that is the reason he hasn't ended up like—that—a Delusion wielded by petty insecurity, petty blood, petty trauma cannot compare to the fist-sized megachurch pulsing in secret below his left collarbone. Animal-instinct chains rattled by the kindness of the blowing wind cannot compare to the fist tightening around his heart. There's no mistaking it. The Tsaritsa knows what she is doing. 

And he thinks he must be getting worse, though he's not sure what the illness is—must be terminal—his life shudders—back and forth—

Brother, brother! Teucer comes running- 

Nooo! Tonia howls- 

He smiles-  

Tonia made it! Teucer chirps- 

I looked at the one you brought me and- 

How clever- 

Do you want it? 

Like a train going around a bend, the world shudders- 

Brother, brother!

Nooo! 

These repeats, they're always the same. He sees them again, his eyes glassed over with rote repetition, and they are the same, always the same, a revisitation. Sometimes he wishes he could change things, but it's impossible. 

Rivers run until they reach the sea—he will get lost. He has known this. He will see every step of the way. Every grain of sand on the riverbank. His riverbed winds on. He will not get to decide how he destroys himself. He will run into the ocean and the tide will swallow him whole. 

Brother, brother- 

Rivers run until they reach the sea—the world, stuttering—his heart, crackling—the Tsaritsa's hands would give way and melt if only he could bring himself to touch her—he is human, he is warm beneath, he is—a follower—violet-hearted, Abyss-tainted-

Brother, brother- 

Becoming lost—becoming noise—holding a rock above a terrified fish, with someone screaming at him in the background to do it—spring never comes in Snezhnaya—he is not like Ragnvindr, he is not like those other dead trainees, he is not, he is not, he will get lost and be the conduit to the ocean in a body, they will call him insane-

Brother, brother- 

He will never die, he cannot die, he will not die—the riverbed winds on towards—but no, but no, it can't be, he can't—if he could only touch her hand, she would come apart, he knows she would—he has no choice, he cannot set his Vision free, he has no choice, he has no choice- 

"Brother, what are you doing?"

He opens his eyes. 

At his hip, his Vision glows gently. And all around him, perfectly circular droplets of water, hanging in the air at regular intervals, in a column around him going up and up into the sky. They do not fall. 

Teucer looks up at him in wonder, the paper narwhal clutched in his hands forgotten. "Are you doing that?" he asks, voice dreamy with wonder. "It's so pretty."

Tonia, standing on the back porch with bare feet, her hair plaited, her dress blowing in the wind, gapes up at the column—rising up, and up, and up, into the bright grey sky. The wind gusts strongly. The droplets do not move. 

"How are you doing that?" Teucer asks him, eyes wide, mouth in an O of awe. "Can you teach me how?" 

"I guess you have something cooler than an origami narwhal, huh?" Tonia says, blushing and shuffling her feet. "That's really beautiful, brother." 

He looks up and up and up at the droplets surrounding him. He looks down at his treacherously glowing Vision. Now, when did I give you permission? he thinks. You've messed everything up. This isn't how it's supposed to happen. 

"Wait!" Tonia says. But he flicks his fingers and the droplets begin to patter to the ground, hitting the narwhal in Teucer's hands so it looks like it's been crying. Teucer looks up in wonder, but Tonia, old enough to understand, looks sad. 

Rivers run until they reach the ocean, he thinks, as he looks up at the smooth grey sky. Rivers deposit silt as they turn, widening their turns. Rivers divert their own course. Prolong their time to run. All rivers lead back to the ocean. Rain falls. 

"Did you have to let it down?" Tonia whines.  

He shrugs. The not-really-rain finishes coming down, and his Vision's feeble light goes out like a snuffed candle.