Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kaeya Alberich had been called many things during his short life. Khaenri’ah’s Last Hope. The young Rangvindr. Rascal. Brother.

Traitor.

He knew he was young, far too young to be all of those things at once; he hadn’t the capacity. He was only nineteen, barely a man. It just meant that half of those things that he should’ve been, he failed at. Most of those things, actually, to be honest.

He sat in his new office, packed and homey and screaming the name of his brother, the name of the brother he used to have, and he thought maybe lying is the only thing i’ve ever been good at. Diluc’s chair was far too comfortable for the likes of him, and the nib of the swanfeather quill too wide for his tastes; he’d already ruined five reports with his clumsy splotches of ink. He stared a the top of his sturdy cedarwood desk, the orderly stacks of papers left behind by his predecessor, the hydro-slime shaped inkpot he got Diluc two years ago after he spent a whole evening whining about how lonely his office at the Headquarters was, at the suspiciously goblet-shaped, circular stain at the bottom left corner that may have been left behind by a cup of unwisely handled juice.

He bit down on his tongue, almost hard enough to draw blood. He was lucky he didn’t, he had a meeting to attend in half an hour, and it would’ve been deeply off putting to show up with blood on his teeth. He had shoes to fill, a mantle to take up; a lie to tell.

Liar , he added to the bottom of his long list of names, just under Cavalry Captain . It fit in nicely.

He thought about the vision hanging by his side, something he got used to far too quickly, barely noticing its presence anymore. No one asked him how he got it yet; maybe he could chalk it up to his grief. Anything but the truth.

Crepus died eight days ago. Diluc had been gone for almost a week. Half a heartbeat, an eternity.

Grandmaster Varka approached him with the offer for the position of Cavalry Captain four days ago. It felt like a joke at the time; he didn’t know if he should laugh or die quietly.

He accepted it the day before yesterday.

He forced himself to look at something else other than the desk. It was a mistake; his eyes immediately found the photograph placed on one of the many bookcases lining the office walls, of him and Diluc and their father, standing at the front of the Dawn Vinery mansion, Crepus’ arms wrapped around their shoulders, hugging them close. It was the first Weinlesefest they celebrated after Diluc became Cavalry Captain. They were all so happy, so proud . Kaeya could still recall with perfect clarity how his chest swelled with warmth whenever he thought about his brother’s achievements. How Crepus’ smiles were brighter than the sun, and warmer than the hottest summer day.

They were happy. Life was theirs to feast upon.

And Kaeya tore it all apart with his gnarled, ugly teeth.

There was a knock on his door, and it made him jump in his seat, but at least it pulled his attention away from the picture. He squared his shoulders, and picked up his quill.

“Yes?” To his ears, his voice sounded fragile and echo-y, like a cavern of ice. To the person waiting on the other side of his door it probably just sounded like stress.

“Captain Kaeya” Jean peeked in, opening the door but not entering. “The meeting is in five minutes. Would you accompany me?”

Jean. Sweet, valiant Jean, soaring high as a dandelion seed carried by the wind. One of his closest friends, and now maybe the only one. She, too, was devastated by the death of Crepus, and she was terrified for Diluc, and somehow next to all of those things she found the energy to worry for Kaeya as well. Kaeya imagined what she would do if he told her what he told Diluc. She would most likely arrest him, and bring him to Varka for judgement. As it was right to do. He wondered if her eyes would be aflame with rage, or averted in disappointment.

She’s been doing her best to help him get settled in as a Captain of the Knights of Favonius. The plethora of tips and tricks she shared was incredibly useful, and also something that Kaeya had a hard time keeping in mind, his thoughts consumed by blood and flames and his heart torn asunder. What a Captain he was.

She smiled at him, a small and quiet smile. Kaeya realized he’s not given her an answer yet.

“I’d love to. With pleasure” he said, and immediately stood. His thighs hit the edge of the desk; Jean was kind enough to pretend not to notice.

He offered her his arm, and closed the door to his office, Diluc’s office, behind them.

Kaeya leaned back in his chair, hands stretched high above his head, and tried to get his spine to pop and relieve his aching back. The afternoon sun was painting wide yellow stripes across his office and over his desk, illuminating his stacks of paperwork, half finished, half waiting to be picked up. His peacock quill rested in its holder, nice and tidy next to his inkpot, perfectly within reach but not close enough to be carelessly knocked over. He’d spent the whole day finishing up reports on hilichurl sightings and smaller encounters, and all he wanted to do now was to have a glass of wine at Angel’s Share, maybe play some cards with Rosaria and try to actually win this time, and then fall face first into his creaky bed at the Headquarters.

Unfortunately he still had reports to finish and next month’s budgeting to do, and if he wanted to supervise the Cavalry’s training tomorrow he had to get the paperwork done today. He could already hear Varka scolding him for missing out on the training, the Grand Master’s rough voice barking at him from across the courtyard, spooking the horses. The cadets would laugh until Varka would call them out on their slacking too, ordering them to continue their drills.

There was a knock on his door, and Kaeya sighed and shuffled his papers around before calling out a come in .

“Sir Kaeya? I’ve brought some tea and snacks, if you would like some.” The young girl peeking her head into his office was one of the new apprentice maids, her pale grey hair brushed back into an elegant bun, her green eyes wide and sparkling. Noelle was her name, if Kaeya recalled it correctly. The tray in her hands held several teacups and a variety of sweet biscuits, all piled around a large teapot.

“My, what a lovely gesture” he smiled, making sure his eyes crinkled with the pull of his lips. “I would indeed like some tea, thank you.”

The girl set the tray down on a small side table while Kaeya made space for a teacup amidst the piles of paperwork, and pulled a fresh report in front of him to read through. The porcelain cup barely made a sound as it was placed by his elbow, and by the time he looked up to thank Noelle once again, she was already closing the door behind herself. The sweet scent of sunsettia and valberry filled Kaeya’s nose, and suddenly the cup of tea he accepted out of courtesy started to seem appetizing.

He took a small sip, and along with it an indulgent moment to gaze across his office. The bookshelves full of tomes and binders of reports, with a single space kept for his liquor collection he cracked open on rainy days. The flower vase by the door that Jean got him three months ago during one of her rare vacations to Liyue, because the intricate peacock pattern reminded her of him, and she wanted to get him an anniversary gift anyways for his second year spent as Cavalry Captain. His eyes wandered to the set of armchairs in the corner by the windows, where Alice’s little girl used to spend her time whenever Lisa got fed up with her in the library. 

He glanced back at the report in front of him, and the circular stain on the desk that was peeking out from underneath the page. He never managed to pull himself together enough to get rid of that table.

He forced himself through another batch of paperwork before a steadily building headache finally made itself known. He held his quill with a frown, and decided that the next report will be the last one before dinner. The page that found its way into his hand was not a report though, but a schedule for the month’s meetings. He glanced at it with furrowed brows, and cursed when he saw one scheduled for tomorrow. That finance plan suddenly became a lot more urgent.

He downed the rest of his cold tea wishing it was something stronger, and reached for the next stack of papers.

The Knights of Favonius’ monthly meetings were only marginally less boring than the required paperwork of a Captain. At least three hours of drawling on about reports and statistics and funding issues, the same old problems resurfacing without end. Kaeya begrudgingly accepted them as a necessity that was at the end of the day actually useful, but he counted every passing minute during them.

Other than exchanging information and making decisions, it was also how the Captains kept in regular touch. It was important to know one’s colleagues, especially in an organization like the Knights where cooperation could be a matter of life or death. The various Captains, due to their many-faceted duties, rarely saw each other, sometimes unable to make it even to the monthly meetings. Kaeya could count on one hand how many times he’s seen Eula, the young and vengeful Captain of the Reconnaissance Company during his two years at the office, and there were Captains that he only knew of from the tales of others, always away on mysterious missions and the like.

It was well before noon, the bright morning sun making Kaeya regret every single life decision he’s ever made as he walked towards Varka’s office. The late stay at his desk and the early rise for the morning Cavalry training turned the dull ache in his head into a constant throb, tiredness weighing his limbs down like lead.

He met Jean on the stairs leading down to the entrance hall. She chuckled when he just nodded as a greeting, busy forcing down a yawn and keeping the stack of last night’s papers secure in his elbow.

“Long night?” She held the door open, ushering him into Varka’s office. She looked fresh as the morning dew, hair pulled up into her newly favoured ponytail, professional and put-together as always.

“Nothing I can’t handle. Though I’m glad to see your duties let you rest well.” Jean just rolled her eyes at him, unaffected by his jab. “Good morning, Grand Master!” they called out in unison as Varka shot them a look from behind his desk, tacking a curt bow at the end after seeing his frown.

Varka cut an imposing figure even when sitting in his office. With his wide shoulders, battle-worn face and cold brown eyes he looked like a fearsome leader, ready to take on any challenge. Kaeya couldn’t help but note the thickening strands of grey in his long hair, the dark colour they still had two years ago steadily fading. He was flipping through a binder, large hands turning the pages gently, a moment of order amongst the mess of paperwork covering his desk.

“Energetic, are we?” He glanced between them, before setting his gaze on Kaeya. “Was the morning training too easy? We can’t have our knights slacking off.”

“Not at all, sir. Captain Jean’s company simply invigorates me, is all.”

Varka just scoffed, his eyes twinkling. Kaeya placed his stack of papers on his desk, and greeted the arriving Amber and Herta, and the meeting was officially underway.

It didn’t take long for the lack of sleep and the tiring morning to catch up to Kaeya, making him zone out quicker than he usually did on these occasions. He caught a few words every other minute, but mostly found himself staring out the large windows, gaze stuck in the middle distance. He fiddled idly with a coin, pressing the edge of it into the meat of his thumb when he wanted to pay attention, and making it dance between his fingers otherwise. He pulled himself together when he had to give a quick report on the Cavalry spendings and the training progress of the newest recruits, but let his mind empty out again when Varka’s expectant eye moved over to Jean.

Two hours later Varka released them, shooting a stern glare at Kaeya to remind him that his distraction did not go unnoticed. Kaeya just flashed one of his easy smiles at him, smooth and slippery like water in one’s palm, and fled.

If he were a luckier man, he would’ve had a clear path up towards his office, nothing between him and the comfortable armchairs perfect for a quick nap. But luck was never on his side when he needed it most. The very moment he left the Grand Master’s office, there was suddenly a short, blond form in his way, stopping barely an inch away from him, saving them both from an utterly humiliating tumble in the main hall.

The blond man was in the process of unwrapping a scarf from around his neck, clearly having been outside in the cold autumn day until just now, and Kaeya belatedly recognized him as Sir Albedo, Captain of the Investigation Team. He was aware of the reclusive alchemical genius, but only ever met him once in passing, and didn’t even have the time for proper introductions. He knew the man spent most of his time amongst the frigid cliffs of Dragonspine, or taking care of little Klee, and with Kaeya’s own busy schedule it wasn’t too big of a surprise that they managed to avoid each other for two years.

Albedo looked up at him with large, unblinking blue eyes. “Apologies. I got held up by a storm at the foot of the mountain. I take it the meeting is over?”

Kaeya barely even registered the words, too preoccupied by his world closing in on the large, four pointed star-shaped mark on Albedo’s neck that got uncovered as the man folded his scarf up. Suddenly all he could think about was those very same four pointed stars staring at him from his birth father’s eyes as he made Kaeya swear to one day bring glory to Khaenri’ah. It was a pattern he would’ve recognized anywhere, had recognized it before in the blinking eyes of ruin guardians and the carvings of long forgotten, dusty ruins.

They found him. It was time.

Foolishly he had hoped that with Crepus’ death, one horrible choice out of the way he would perhaps have another decade before his homeland came to claim him once more. But why would he, of all people, have deserved that? His cursed, glorious blood caught up to him, leaving him no escape route, no other place to run.

He felt his breath freeze into his lungs, blood running cold and stagnant. The mark was a pale yellow, reminiscent of an unpowered machine, waiting for a spark of life to ignite inside so that it could sow destruction.

Something tugged on his arm, sharp, and Kaeya snapped his head up, coming face to face with a frowning Jean. “Kaeya!” she hissed, tugging at him again as if to shake him back into reality. She was glaring at him, lips pressed thin and brows drawn, and then she turned towards Albedo, forcing a smile onto her face. “I’m sure the Grand Master won’t take issue, having understood the circumstances. May the rest of your day be pleasant!”

Kaeya wanted to say something, anything, follow Jean’s lead into polite conversation, but came up with nothing. Albedo looked at him as indifferently as if nothing strange had happened at all, no awkward, seconds long staring. Not a single spark of recognition in his eyes. Kaeya felt his lips pull into a slanted smile, a grin to hide behind.

“Apologies, I have some long nights behind me. I’m sure Grand Master Varka is eager to hear from you. Have a wonderful day!” He stepped to the side, freeing up the entrance into the office, and let Jean discreetly drag him away with her hand tucked into his elbow.

He waited for something, a whispered sentence in a forgotten language, or a dagger into his back as he turned away from the alchemist, but only heard the soft sound of footsteps and then the door clicking shut. His heartbeat drummed unevenly in his ears as he followed Jean up the stairs, each step a little more unsteady than the last. He stopped as they reached the hallway to the Captains’ offices, leaning against the wall before his knees could give out.

“What happened?” Jean’s voice was a lot softer now, laced with concern and confusion. “You looked like you saw a ghost. I’ve never…” She took a breath, as if the words she wanted to say were too heavy to spill forth on their own. “I’ve only seen you like this then . Are you okay?”

Then . The roaring fire of the funeral pyre that Kaeya almost puked from, the fresh burn underneath his eyepatch still searing with pain, and a freezing cold vision tucked underneath his shirt, out of sight. He was a mess that day; sometimes he wondered if he ever stopped being one. He took a deep breath, and tried on a small, easy smile, glancing up at Jean through his eyelashes.

“It’s nothing to worry about, really. Simply slept badly yesterday.” He let the smile fade some, and tacked on quietly: “I’m sure you know how it is. I’m just tired, is all.”

There was a soft oh from Jean, and she gently patted him on the shoulder, eyes crinkled with sadness. She went as far as to tuck a small piece of hair behind his ear, a soothing gesture, but it took every morsel of self restraint Kaeya had to stop himself from recoiling.

“Take the day off, I’ll make sure Varka doesn’t mind. You clearly need the rest.”

“No, I will be fine. Nothing some liquor can’t solve” he said, and winked at Jean as he pushed himself off the wall. “The Cavalry would be doomed without me, after all!”

She just rolled her eyes, and fell into step beside him. “Doomed to a proper schedule, that’s for sure.”

“Hey now, my scheduling is impeccable!”

“Sure it is.”

Jean took hold of his elbow as they reached his office, fingers gentle but firm. She held his gaze for a long moment. “I’m serious. Get some rest. Please.” Kaeya nodded, and reached for the brass handle. “And if you ever want to talk, you know I’m always here to listen, right?”

Sweet Jean. As if he would ever tell her any of this. “Of course. Thank you.”

She nodded, and squeezed his elbow one more time before going her way, no doubt to clean up whatever administrative mess Varka has left behind this time. Kaeya didn’t waste time slipping inside his office, then closed the door slowly, and measured every step he took until he reached his desk. Only there, slumped in his chair did he allow himself to drop part of his mask, burying his head in his trembling hands.

He had no doubt that the mark on Albedo’s neck was from Khaenri’ah. That Albedo was from Khaenri’ah. He just needed to figure out what exactly the man wanted from him, and if he was ready to pay the price he was asked for.

Chapter Text

The next morning found Kaeya in his bed, wide awake and exhausted out of his mind. He spent most of yesterday keeping himself from collapsing into a pile of panicked knightly disappointment, and barely got any sleep, waiting for secret messages or nameless visitors to show up and drag him back into his past, into his legacy. But the night passed like it did on any other day, quiet and still, and Kaeya’s cursed internal clock woke him right after the break of dawn, uncaring for the fact that he only managed to fall asleep an hour ago.

He stared up at his ceiling, listening to the strange melody woven from his heartbeat and the birdsong outside, never meant to be heard together. His fingers twitched with yesterday’s leftover antsiness, his lucid thoughts still swirling around the whirlpool that Albedo was, threatening to drag him deep, down down down into the empty, crumbling caverns of his homeland.

What a bastard.

That thought shook him out of his stupor, restoring a semblance of order into his mind. That’s it. He was just that. It was foolish to obsess over panicked what-ifs when he had so little information to go off of. He may have become a Captain through pity and connections, but he stayed a Captain through his own skill and competence. If he was anything other than a liar, then he was observant and calculating. He could figure Albedo out.  Determine if he’s a real threat.

He just needed to be on top of his game.

He took Jean’s advice, and requested a day off from Grand Master. Varka allowed it without questions, no doubt having drawn his own conclusions about his behaviour yesterday and whatever Jean told him later. He spent the day resting and slowly thinking up a strategy.

The thing he was in the most dire need of was information. Information on Albedo, on his research topics, on his past. Information on Khaenri’ah, or more precisely, being aware of how much information was available about Khaenri’ah, the extent of what would an outsider have been privy to if they took their time to research that cursed land.

The next thing he needed to figure out was that if Albedo did have business with him, how quickly he intended to go about it. The long game has always been Khaenri’ah’s style, and he was counting on that to be true in this case as well. If he had time, he could…

To be honest, he wasn’t sure what having time meant for him. What would he use it for? To protect himself? To run away, hide? To continue avoiding the choice he’s been avoiding all his miserable life?

He decided he didn’t need an answer for that. A quiet, stubborn, diluc-sounding part of him added on, not yet . He pretended not to hear it.

The next day he was back in his office as usual, acting like his world hadn't been turned upside down and shaken to its core. He finished up some paperwork before heading down to the stables to ride out with the Cavalry on his weekly routine patrol.

The key part of being a liar was consistency. Continuing playing his role of Cavalry Captain was the first step he needed to take. It was a well established guise he could hide behind, one he could use to cover for the questions he asked; all he had to do was keep wearing the mask. It was muscle memory.

He greeted the cadets as usual, with his sly smile and cheerful holler. He chatted with them as they set the tack up on their horses, talked about the newest batch of liyuen spirits to be delivered to Angel’s Share, and about the gang of hilichurls that’s been making a ruckus in the Whispering Woods lately. He asked Johann how his baby was doing as he tightened the girth around his horse. 

“She’s healthy as an acorn, Captain!” Johann beamed at the question, and immediately dug into his pockets. “Look, a travelling photographer even took a picture of her for us!”

He showed him two pictures, printed onto thick paper. The first captured the moment as his two weeks old daughter blinked blearily up at the Kamera, face scrunched up in confusion, held securely in one of her parents’ arms. She had the same auburn locks as Johann. The second one was likely taken a few moments later, the little girl was looking away from the Kamera, mouth open in a gleeful smile, stumpy arms reaching for something out of frame.

“The photographer only charged us for the second one” Johann said while he smiled fondly at the pictures. “He said he made the first one by accident and that it wasn’t a very nice photograph anyways, but I think Emma is just as adorable on it as on the other one.”

Johann was right, Kaeya supposed. It held a particular sort of charm for the little girl, the kind of affection only a parent could experience fully. He smiled up at the man and patted him on the shoulder. “She’s sweeter than a blackberry tart. You’re a lucky guy.”

“Heh” Johann tucked the picture back into his pocket with the same amount of care as if he was hiding his heart away, “I sure am.”

Kaeya turned his attention back to his horse, who decided that if he wasn’t going to pay attention to her, he clearly wasn’t going to mind her nibbling on his hair. Finch, the bay mare Kaeya rode since he became a member of the Cavalry, was almost as petty as her rider, and she huffed into Kaeya’s face as he pulled the end of his ponytail out of her mouth.

“Feeling left out, are we?” he chided, but rubbed her forehead nonetheless before reaching for the bridle. He pulled it over Finch’s head with care, making sure neither her ears nor her forelock were stuck under a band, and in turn the mare accepted the bit without fuss. He stroked her neck as he checked over the tack once again. “If you’re huffing and puffing like that, you’re surely well rested. I expect good work from you today, little lady.” Finch only snorted in response as he led her out to the training yard, and flicked her ears at the other horses in greeting.

The clear skies and the strong wind made the cold feel even more biting as their group rode out the front gates, the sun already at a loss of its usual force. Autumn leaves swirled in the air, colourful and fleeting, and Kaeya reminded his men to pay attention to their horses, knowing how some of them still got skittish in the wind. He kept Finch’s reins taut, feeling her twitch underneath him, wanting for a quicker pace. The clopping of the hooves on the cobblestones of the bridge arching over Cider Lake made something in him settle, as if the sway of the saddle made some  loose pieces in him slot back into place.

He led his men north, the patrol route taking them up towards the Stormbearer Mountains. Just as they were entering the Whispering Woods, he spotted two people on the path up ahead.

One of them he recognized instantly. The little red form of Alice’s girl was one that every knight was familiar with, for better or for worse. Klee was already a troublemaker at her ripe age of five, wrecking unintentional havoc wherever she went, those bright, innocent red eyes of hers saving her from the worst of the scolding every time. Next to her stood a man that Kaeya was less than familiar with, but dreaded to see again all the same; it was none other than the Chief Alchemist.

He waved as the pair spotted them, cheerful as he was ought to be. Klee waved back immediately, putting the entirety of her small body into it, and would’ve ran straight up to the party had Albedo not called her back as she reared up for the sprint. So, she waited by his side as the group approached them, bouncing in place from one foot to the other.

“Captain Kaeya!” she squealed when Kaeya brought Finch to a stop in front of them.

“Hello, Klee” he smiled, and then nodded to Albedo, willing the creeping frost inside his chest to stillness. “Chief Alchemist. What might the two of you be up to today?”

“We’re going fish-blasting!” She grinned up at Kaeya. “Big brother told me that as long as I tell him when I’m throwing a bomb, I can blast as many fish as I want! It’s gonna be awesome ! Can I pet your horsie?”

Kaeya chuckled. “Why, of course you can! Finch, bow.” He patted her neck firmly three times, and the mare extended a front leg and lowered her head in an elegant arch. “It sounds to me like you’re about to have a fantastic morning!”

Klee grinned up at him while she rubbed Finch’s nose, carefully like Kaeya showed him before. “Yep! Big brother is the best !”

“That he is, clearly.” Three pats again, and Finch straightened. Kaeya swore to himself that he would get her a treat once they returned to the city for being so patient with Klee. He finally let his gaze rest on Albedo, who observed the interaction with a neutral, if mildly bored expression. “A fellow fan of fish-blasting?”

Albedo shook his head. “I need to gather some pyro slime samples. There’s a spot where they regularly congregate by the shore, I’ll be collecting the materials while Klee bombs the fish. It’s an easy task; I will be able to keep a close eye on her during it.” He tacked the last sentence on like an afterthought, something evident but still polite to mention, or like someone who remembered their line just in time.

Kaeya pulled on a lopsided grin. A slime sample was probably the most basic ingredient an alchemist could’ve been in need of. An easy excuse, or just mundane reality. “Both of you are in serious business, then! Well, enjoy your outing; we must be on our way as well.”

Klee waved goodbye as Kaeya led the group further into the Whispering Woods. “Bye-bye Captain Kaeya! And horsie too!” He gave her a playful salute in response before the treeline swallowed them from sight. He stopped himself from looking back at Albedo.

He led his men further north, up to the coastline stretching below Stormbearer Point, and even let them fool around a little on the wet, coarse sand while he tried to decide if Albedo looked at him strangely during their little chat. Despite his looming worries, it was refreshing to wander the corners of Mondstadt on the back of his horse. Working together with Finch felt natural, but not effortless; Kaeya welcomed the need to focus on the mare alongside his surroundings, to see what she saw from the flick of her ear or the turn of her head. He decided that she was his least troublesome coworker.

The sun was setting by the time they got back to the city, the last fading rays tearing the sky apart into fluttering ribbons of orange and purple; he still made sure that each horse was looked after by their rider once back in the stables, and to tell the cadets good job for a successful, if uneventful patrol. As he exited the stables with sugar-sticky fingers, he glanced up at the clear, dark sky. Under the cold gaze of the stars he imagined Albedo stepping out from the shadows, in his hands a crown to weigh his head down or a knife to carve his heart out. You exist for this, and only this, he would say in a dusty, echoing tongue. Time to fulfill your duty .

He shook his head, and glared back at the pinpricks of white on midnight velvet, and thought not yet.

When Kaeya slipped into the quiet peace of the library, he was hoping that Lisa would be taking one of her many naps at her desk, head cushioned comfortably on a stack of assorted library paperwork, like she so often did. If so, Kaeya could’ve silently made his way over to the section about Sumeru, picking up books about its history and geography, looking for any glimpses of the word Dahri. If so, Kaeya could’ve been undetected in his research, could’ve avoided cunning glances and curious questions, could’ve hid from those ever-observant emerald eyes.

Alas, luck never did like him. When he closed the heavy fir doors behind him, he found himself right in the line of sight of one sharp-eyed librarian. Lisa was behind her desk, a cup of tea in her right as she thumbed through a book with her left. She peered up at Kaeya, and gave him one of her usual smirks.

“My, aren’t you a rare visitor! In the mood for something to read?” She took a sip of her tea before setting it aside, and turning her full attention on him. “If you are unsure of what you’re looking for, I can give you a recommendation.”

“Thank you, but I’m afraid I already have my eyes set on some boring tomes to spend my time with.” Kaeya walked up to her desk, and sneaked a glance at the book half covered by Lisa’s hand. The pages were full of writing in characters he was unfamiliar with, but they seemed to pose no problem to Lisa. He nodded at the book nonetheless. “Anything fun? Anything exciting? ”

Lisa chuckled, and sneakily spread her fingers a bit further apart, as if Kaeya wasn’t to notice it anyway. “I’m afraid this is my own set of boring tomes to spend my time with. You know where the sumerian section is.” Her smile was every bit as sweet as the smell of valberries the steam from her cup carried. It made Kaeya’s teeth ache all the same. He offered her a smile of his own in turn, pretty and sour like those lemon custards Good Hunter served every summer, and turned on his heel.

He never told Lisa why he was looking at the sumerian section, at the very least. He started parsing those shelves when he became Cavalry Captain, not quite sure himself what he was looking for. Maybe a sense of connection to the land of his blood, to fill the gap in his heart that mirrored the two empty rooms of the Dawn Vinery Manor. Or to have something his guilt could chew on, choke on. He always made sure to leave a book behind on the desk about the dishes of the rainforest, a magazine about spice production, or a folk tale that happened to be in its original tongue; something that looked like carelessly forgotten objects of his interests, and not neatly put back into its place to go unnoticed like the archeology reports on Dahri ruins, or a paper trying to translate the khaenri’ahn inscriptions found in a discarded, enormous ruin guard. Kaeya recalled how he had to shut his eyes and hold his breath and grip ice between his fingers, trying to calm his racing heart down, and shut the research booklet before he could make out any more words after For a bountiful harvest on the pictures included of the writings. He didn’t set foot in the library for three weeks after that.

He made his way towards the corner housing the sumerian section. The library appeared to be blissfully empty of its usual guests, just as Kaeya hoped it would be; the single shelf about hilichurls stood very close to Kaeya’s personal hell of a little corner, and Ella Musk did always have sharp ears. He started parsing the shelves where he left off seven weeks ago.

First, an atlas about the ten most scenic sites to visit in Sumeru. He flipped through the pictures of the great tree enveloping Sumeru City, of the glowing fungi climbing up the cliffs of Mawtiyima Forest. The wide panorama shot of the Ruins of Dahri made his breath go lazy in his lungs, only willing to move again once the details of the photograph started to blur together into a patch of green and misery in front of his eyes. He glossed over the graceful pavilions of Pardis Dhyai and the horrifying, red tower of Deshret’s Mausoleum, that even the photographer didn’t dare approach closely, and ran his fingertips over the twin pictures of Ruin Guards the size of mountains, left to rust and rot and be buried underneath the golden dunes of the desert.

Next, the second volume of a series of Eremite legends and tales, with a piece of paper slipped behind the cover explaining that the first volume must be requested from Lisa from the forbidden section. Kaeya made a mental note to remember that for if he ever needed to look at sumerian folk tales on official Favonius business.

A shelf full of issues of the same Akademiya-published magazine. The one he pulled out had a strange-looking ruin machine printed on the front page, with the article title The horror of artificial life in large, bold letters next to it. Kaeya read the two-page long article detailing past experiments and the ethical dilemmas of mechanical “life”, and wondered if he would’ve been happier if born with only a singular, yellow eye and plates of creaky metal for skin. Wondered if the responsibility would’ve been less heavy on shoulders made of lead.

Two hours later, he had a piece of paper folded and tucked away in his pocket as he stood from the desk, hiding two full pages of scrawled writing. He didn’t spare another look to the book he left on the table, one detailing the various textiles produced in Sumeru; it made him think of the handful of memories he had from before he became a sorry excuse of a Rangvindr, memories about being wrapped in thick silks and soft, painted cottons. No cloth from Mondstadt has ever felt like that on his skin, and the last thing he needed was a reminder of his blood father’s hand in his.

He left the library quiet as he came. Lisa’s soft snoring was the only thing escorting him out the door.

It was late morning a few days later when he ran into Albedo in the entry hall.

The man was coming up from the laboratories in the cellar of the Headquarters, where they were established upon Albedo’s arrival. Kaeya tried to think back to what was kept down there before; old furniture and equipment, folders of long forgotten reports, dust and spiders and the occasional pair of sneaking lovers. He wondered if the Chief Alchemist took over the entirety of the cellar as his own domain, or if he left a spare corner or two for the bugs and the darkness.

Albedo was holding a tray with numerous flasks and small glass disks on it, some of them steaming suspiciously. Following him came Sucrose, hugging various folders and notebooks to her chest while some glass bottles dangled from between her fingers. Her ears were flattened against her head, her usual shy blush was now a vibrant red spreading over her whole face, and her eyebrows were arched in an especially worrisome angle. She blinked up at Kaeya as if he startled her.

“Oh! Sir, Cap-Captain Kaeya!” she yelped, adjusting her hold on her cargo.

“Miss Sucrose,” Kaeya smiled, slick and cool like creekwater, “Chief Alchemist. What a pleasant surprise!”

Albedo halted his steps, sparing a nod towards him. “Good morning, Captain Kaeya.” Kaeya thought he would say something more, engage in some polite small talk, but instead he swiftly continued his way towards the front door of the Headquarters, not sparing him any more mind. “Excuse me.” Sucrose scrambled after him, a string of my apologies, good-goodbye Captain, have a good day, s-sorry falling behind her. Kaeya stood still for one curious moment, then strode up to them just as Albedo was about to elbow the doors open. Kaeya grabbed the handle and swung the door wide, holding it open while the two alchemists passed.

It was only natural he followed after them.

The two didn’t go very far. Albedo deposited the tray in the middle of the cobblestones in front of the Headquarters and took two measured steps back before reaching towards Sucrose. “Hydro-slime extract, 15%.” His voice was even, his focus on the tray. She placed one of her flasks in his palm quickly. He lifted the glass briefly towards the sky, observing it for a moment. “20 ml added to the pyro whopperflower experiment flask no.3” he said, then moved back to the tray and with steady hands poured a portion of the liquid into the now smoking flask. Hissing steam poured forth, and Albedo backed up once again, holding a palm out in front of Sucrose to either keep her from interfering or to shield her. The steam dissipated after a few seconds, the contents of the flask now dormant. Albedo stood still for another moment, two, three, then moved his hand again. “10 ml added to pyro whopperflower experiment disk no.2.” Liquid poured over one of the small glass dishes that was puffing up patient clouds of smoke, extinguishing its contents. He repeated the process two more times, clearly stating his process every time for Sucrose to note it down onto one of her many stacks of papers. Soon all the misbehaving experiments were back under control.

“Did you get the timing of all of them?” Albedo turned to Sucrose, not paying any more mind to the tray on the ground.

“Y-yes, Master Albedo” she nodded, and pulled out a sheet. “127 seconds for experiment flask no.1, 253 for experiment flask no.2, 542 seconds for experiment flask no.3.”

“And the petri dishes?”

Her eyes widened, her ears flat against her head. “I- oh, I, uh. No, I’m- I’m sorry Master Albedo, I didn’t…”

Albedo just nodded, his face blank and neutral as usual. “Don’t worry, I got them. Write them down.” Sucrose quickly scribbled down the numbers Albedo dictated to her, the bright red blush on her cheeks fading only barely. Kaeya had to admit that it was impressive, listening to Albedo list off precise timing after precise timing, an array of tiny details kept in his mind seemingly without effort. He never doubted that Albedo was a smart man, but he was stunned to see just how razor-sharp his mind was.

He hoped that his observation would go unnoticed, but once everything was settled with the experiment, the Chief Alchemist turned towards him without missing a beat, the sight of the yellow star on his neck trapping him in place.

“Do you also have an interest in alchemy, Captain? You’re welcome to visit my lab if you have the time, I’m rarely not busy with something.”

There was nothing in his voice that registered as threatening or prying, yet Kaeya felt as if someone pinned him down with sharp needles, limbs spread apart and rough corkboard straining against his back as those large, teal eyes stared at him. He couldn’t stop his tongue from moving, blurting out “No, thank you. I’m fine.” An awkward chuckle stumbled past his lips, a sorry attempt at being polite; it didn’t seem to phase the alchemist. He just nodded, and picked the tray up, heading back inside with Sucrose on his tail. Thank Barbatos, Kaeya had enough sense left in him to open the door for them again, before he fled into the city streets from that piercing gaze.

There was something horribly observant about Albedo. As if all the world was just one giant glass flask, and every living thing a moment of the grand experiment of life that Albedo was studying with cold, clinical eyes. A part of Kaeya wondered if maybe he wasn’t human, just a ruin machine that someone took the time to dress into skin, so that it could play with the world uninterrupted. Or to haunt it, maybe. He was awfully pale, after all.

Chapter Text

When Albedo returned to Mondstadt, it was with his entire existence in a backpack and his future hidden in a paper envelope tucked into his coat pocket.

As he stood upon the last cliffs on Liyue, breath even in his lungs, the ground firm underneath his feet, he looked over the familiar scenery. The turbulent dome of Decarabian’s lair, the rolling hills of Windwail Highland, the faraway, icy peaks of Dragonspine; a landscape unchanged since his last visit.

Or not, actually. For Master was by his side still, then. Now he stood alone, only the wind keeping him company.

No matter.

He took his time with his journey into the city. It was as if the wind was whispering his Master’s last words into his ear, that he only saw on parchment, found in their empty camp on an empty morning. Your final assignment: show me the truth and the meaning of this world. He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d let Master down somehow, to make her give him such a task. Or maybe she finally deemed him ready to follow in her steps, and perhaps leave his own ones behind.

There was no way of knowing. It wasn’t worth contemplating.

He gazed at the barren trees of Wolvendom, clawing into the sky above the arena of empty stone sealing the North Wind’s remains. Wondered if anyone ever dared challenge him since. Master wanted to, once; to find answers, she said. Not that they ever did, in the end.

He noted the change in Springvale’s windmills as he walked past the town. The stocks were different, the wood probably rotted and needed replacing, and the sails were from a different type of canvas as well. He observed the way they spun in the wind, one slower than the other. How strange, that despite the obvious change, he felt like he left only yesterday, like a century hadn’t passed since.

No matter.

His heels clopped on the cobblestone bridge, Cider Lake bright and blue around him, as he approached the city gate. Pigeons were pecking at the cracks between the stones. A little boy, maybe of two or three years, threw more seeds out for them, giggling while held in his mother’s arms. They both glanced curiously at Albedo, but only once, turning their eyes back towards the birds as they scattered from his steps.

The two guards posted by the gate nodded at him, and in tandem said, “Welcome to the City of Mondstadt!”

He didn’t reach for the envelope in his pocket. Instead he just asked, “I’m looking for the mage Alice. Do you know where to find her?”

Albedo followed the directions the guards gave him, searching for a crimson roofed house. The streets of Mondstadt were loud from chatter and song, and the ever-present breeze carried the scent of alcohol on its back. Cats and dogs and children wandered around, chasing each other in play, and strings of colourful flags fluttered above them, casting little specks of colour onto the ground.

The house where Alice was to be found looked just like any other of the city dwellings, with baskets of flowers hanging underneath the windows, wooden shutters open, the occasional philanemo mushroom growing in the crooks of the wooden beams. No one ever got rid of them, rather letting the beams rot and need replacing; supposedly they were blessed by the Anemo Archon. Albedo had never found any trace of elemental energy in them.

He knocked on the door, painted the same shade of red as the roof tiles. It opened the moment his fingers stopped touching the wood, swinging wide and revealing a tall, plump, blonde woman with blood red eyes and a blinding smile.

“Hi! You’re Albedo, right?”

It was more of a statement than a question. He nodded nonetheless.

The woman clapped her hands and rolled onto the balls of her feet, as if she wanted to jump up and down, and opened the door even wider. “Yes, wonderful! Oh, I’m so happy, come in, come in! I’ve been waiting for Rhine to introduce you!” She ushered Albedo inside, pointing where to put his coat and his bag and where to leave his boots. He noticed it only then that she was in socks, a soft-looking woolen pair. Not something he recalled as a custom in Mondstadt. “Oh, this is great! We were just having a tea party with Klee, you should join us!” She led him into what he assumed to be the living room, although it housed multiple work tables, and a plethora of blueprints and star maps and botanical illustrations covering the walls. There were paper models of vishaps and toucans and crabs hanging from the ceiling. In the middle of the room, on a thick red carpet stood a small, round table, with a red porcelain tea set on top, and a little blond girl in red by its side who looked to be in the middle of chewing on one of the saucers.

“No, no, Klee, that’s not edible and your teeth don’t need wearing down” Alice chided the little girl as she gently pulled the saucer out of her mouth. Klee didn’t appear too bothered by the loss of her toy, and was looking up at Albedo with large, shining red eyes. She tilted her head curiously, not too dissimilar to a bird.

“Who are you?”

“Klee,” Alice started as she poured tea in a third cup, “this is Auntie Gold’s friend, Albedo!” She patted an empty pillow by the table as she looked up at him. “Albedo, this is my daughter Klee!”

Albedo didn’t remark on how that was yes, obvious, since both women shared the same blond locks, pointed ears, facial structure and red eyes. Instead he sat down on the offered pillow, and handed Master’s letter over to Alice. “I was told to give this to you.”

Alice hummed and opened the letter with twinkling eyes. While she was reading, Klee continued to stare at Albedo.

“Do you also do the al-ka-mi stuff that Aunti Gold does?” she asked, uncaring for the cup of tea clasped between her small hands.

“I practice alchemy as well, yes.” He righted the cup when she started drooping it, stopping the tea from spilling.

Klee grinned and wiggled in her seat. Her cup was slowly tilting again. “Al-che-my. Cool! Can you make Klee a butterfly? One of those shiny ones?”

Albedo wondered if Klee knew about the art of Khemia or just thought common alchemy would produce transmutations like that. He gently took the cup out of her hands. “Of course.”

Judging by the smell and the colour, the tea was a sunsettia and wolfhook blend. He let himself feel the porcelain cup, the water and the honey and the bits of dried fruit that escaped the strainer, the particles colouring the liquid a deep pink. He then thought about the anatomy of a crystalfly, the wing joints and the patterns of elemental energy flowing through them. The tea in the cup drained, and a glowing, teal coloured crystalfly emerged.

Klee squealed in delight. She turned to Alice, clapping her hands and kicking her feet.

“Mommy, look! He’s so cool! Again, again!”

Albedo put the empty cup down on the table. “In alchemy, you turn one thing into another. You can’t make something out of nothing; if you can, then it wasn’t nothing to begin with. It has to be an equivalent exchange.”

When he glanced at Alice, he found her already observing him. She smiled, and Albedo didn’t get shivers from it. “Rhine taught you well! She must be proud of you, you are very skilled.” She folded the letter closed. “She said that you will need a laboratory… And not one of a size a civilian could build either.” She hummed, tapping the corner of the letter against her lips. “Oh! I know! The Knights will definitely be able to help you out! Let me write you a note.”

In a matter of minutes Albedo was once again standing outside of the mage’s home, this time with a piece of pink and slightly wrinkled paper folded away in his pocket, on it a message penned by Alice. “Be sure to visit tomorrow as well!” she said as she waved to him from the doorstep. Despite her cheerful tone, Albedo felt strangely but familiarly obligated to do so.

He headed to the Headquarters of the Knights of Favonius, which was still where he expected it to be. He walked underneath the slowly turning windmill blades and the creeping, petrified gaze of the statue of Barbatos, and wondered how many decades he was to spend in this land until he found the answers Master had him look for.

He wondered if Master knew the answers already, and this was nothing more than another elaborate test of hers.

The large oak doors of the Headquarters building have stayed the same. He nodded at the guards. “I’m looking for Grand Master Varka. The mage Alice sent me.” When the two men exchanged a glance, he handed the note over to them. “Here, you can check.”

To him, the piece of paper only held the short letter addressed to Grand Master Varka, but the guards clearly saw something else. Alice worked with magics that were beyond even Master’s comprehension.

“First office to the left.” The guard on the left handed the note back to him with a nod of satisfaction. “Barbatos be with you.”

Albedo didn’t say with you too as he entered. He stepped into the echoing hall quietly, making only the necessary amount of noise. The first door on the left looked  exactly like the other two doors opening from the room. There was a guard posted by the stairs, and she shared a nod with Albedo.

He knocked on the door, four measure raps. A deep, booming voice called out.

“Come in!”

The man sitting at the desk by the window was large and battle-worn. His face was sharp and lined with a trimmed beard, cold brown eyes observing from beneath strong brows. He was wearing what appeared to be official Knights attire, with his long, dark hair plaited down his back. The dark blue coat and the neatly pleated white shirt stood in contrast with the absolute mess his table was, full of scattered papers and books and rolled up maps. Strangely enough, the rest of the office looked to be perfectly organized.

The man looked up at him, quill moving for one more second before stilling in his large, scarred hands.

“Good afternoon,” Albedo said, bowing his head. “I am in need of a laboratory. The mage Alice directed me to you. She also wrote this.”

“I see,” the man said, taking the folded note. He scoffed quietly at the sight of it, a smile pulling at his lips as he read the words. “She says you would be open to work for the Knights?”

Why not. “If any alchemical work needs to be done, I can handle it.”

The man regarded him with those sharp, distrusting eyes for a long moment. Master looked at him like that in the early days of his life. Then the man’s face changed, shifted into something warm and friendly, and he stood from his desk. “I’m always happy to help out a friend in need. And if Alice trusts you, then I do too. Grand Master Varka” he reached his hand out.

“Albedo.” He shook it.

It didn’t take long for the news of a new Knight to spread through the city, despite Albedo only being a consulting alchemist, not a genuine member. Although he didn’t go out much, preferring to stay in the cellar of the Headquarters where his lab was to be established, he was quickly made aware of the already existing alchemist community in the city.

There was a basic alchemy table in the town square, tucked underneath the awning of a residential building that perhaps once housed a practitioner of the art. These days, it was of use to only two people, as Albedo had come to know.

It was his second day out in the city when he spotted the table. A young man and woman stood next to it, conversing while in the middle of a simple experiment; it looked like a basic extraction process, turning a flaming flower stamen into agnidus agate fragments. He found himself coming to a stop to observe them. They flitted around the table, hands unsure, not steadied by determination or experience. They bowed over sheets of paper, checking once and twice and thrice, trying to make sure nothing could go awry. Preparation was the base of alchemy, worry the bane of it. Albedo was waiting for them to fail.

But when the sigils carved into the table lit up, and the transformation went through, a small piece of uneven red crystal was laying on the cold stone surface. A success, no matter how unexpected.

The two clearly weren’t expecting it themselves either. They stood still for a moment, before both jumping in place and shaking their hands and yelling in triumph. It was intriguing, seeing them so overjoyed over something so small.

The girl was the first to notice Albedo. She stared at him, her large amber eyes glinting from behind her glasses, her green, fuzzy ears turned in his direction. Her stillness made the boy glance around too, and soon recognition flooded his face.

“Sir! Sir, aren’t you the new alchemist of the Knights?”

He was, wasn’t he? Alchemist of the Knights. He nodded.

“We’re alchemists ourselves!” He grinned, then averted his gaze. “Well, training to be, at the very least. Students of the art!” The girl nodded, her cheeks slowly turning redder with every word her friend spoke. “You must be exceptional at alchemy! If you have the time and don’t mind, could you give us some pointers?”

Albedo knew that Master didn’t teach him because of an urge to share her knowledge. She cared for him, in one capacity or another, but her teachings were not born of the want of sharing. She wanted to create, and her creation needed her knowledge. So she gave it to him, made him work for it, tested him on it, until she was satisfied.

Looking at these people, holding something so rudimentary to such high regard, made him wonder how they would look at high level alchemy. What they would do with their knowledge, what they would uncover, what kind of path would they wear out for themselves with the use of the craft. Albedo himself has yet to even near the heights Master achieved, but he’s searched wider, he’s asked his own questions and found his own answers, and he was curious to see what these two would search for if they had the skills to do so. What would they, could they uncover, given the chance?

“I have the time,” he replied, and walked over to the table. “You have questions about this experiment?”

“We, uh…” The girl fixed her glasses, and checked the papers clutched in her hands. “This experiment went, um, went as expected, so… Uh, may-maybe, if you could. If you could tell us about more advanced processes?”

He looked at the small batch of ingredients stored on a shelf. To tell them about something advanced… “Would you like to see a demonstration?”

The two shared a quick look, before nodding furiously.

“Hand me that dendro slime sample, please.”

The boy handed him a small vial that held a portion of the flower-like limb that large dendro slimes had on their heads. Albedo shook it out into his palm, and handed the empty bottle back to the boy.

He recalled how Master introduced him to the art.

“The universe is heaven reversed,” he closed his fingers over the petals “and the earth is a dream lost to time.“ He felt the flower in his hand, the lines of residual elemental energy acting like the veins of an ordinary plant. He felt it fall apart. When he opened his palm, only a pile of ash rested there.

“This is dust, the most basic form of complex life.”

The boy and the girl watched with bated breath. Albedo thought about a cecilia, the way the leaves hugged the stem and the petals parted and the number of stamens it had. He thought about the vein patterns and the chemical makeup of the pollen and how it only bloomed in the afternoon. He thought about the pigments and the chlorophyll distribution. He felt it.

It didn’t take more than a second.

The pile of ash shifted.

“And this,” he spoke, as a green stalk rose and white petals unfurled, pulled into shape by his mind, by the art of Khemia…

“Is new birth.”

Despite the well-furnished and spacious laboratory the Knights established for him, Albedo knew some of his experiments and research materials were not to be handled in close proximity to other people, both for their own safety but more importantly so that they wouldn’t start asking questions. He needed a secondary research station, and he knew just where to find one.

Master and his first visit to Mondstadt was brief, and largely spent amongst the forever snowy slopes of Dragonspine. They were set up in a cave halfway up the mountain, right above the deep valley where Durin’s remains rested; Albedo was mostly confined to the lab, but he still remembered well the view of the large, broken ribs arching towards the sky. The laboratory was set up when they arrived, and they left it intact when they left, too. Given how treacherous the journey up the mountain was for the common folk, it was unlikely the lab was ever tampered with.

Not that Albedo didn’t want to check up on its condition before he decided if it would be suitable for his needs. So once the lab in the cellar of the Headquarters was almost fully furnished, and he checked with Frederica Gunnhildr, the Grand Master’s right hand if he would be needed in the next two days (to which the answer was no, accompanied by a curious glance but nothing more), he set out towards the snowy mountain.

Dragonspine always had a unique climate, near-constant regardless of the changing of seasons. Despite it being late spring, the temperature noticeably dropped when Albedo reached the plateaus of Galesong Hill. The wind whisked in the cold pouring off of the mountain, and pushed it up against the steep cliffs, bringing with it the smell of pine and snow. He stopped for a moment, taking in the scenery before him. The towering peaks, the crumbling ruins, the ever-present storm wrapped around the very top of the mountain.

He thought about his first time on Dragonspine. The biting cold and the wind trying to sway his every step. The broken structures so eerily similar to what the ruins of Khaenri’ah looked like. Master walked across it all like the wind couldn’t touch her and the cold didn’t matter, the mountain being only her next research station, nothing more. She wished to collect some samples and run some experiments, arguing that the unique weather was ideal for certain tests. Albedo was still young then, barely three decades old. He mostly listened, observed, and filed every second away diligently into his memory.

Now, he wondered if he could pull the rest of the mountain’s secrets forward, whatever bits Master didn’t bother cutting open on a research table. If he could uncover something useful that she never did.

He crossed the river curling around the northern portion of the mountain, stepping from one slab of ice to the other. A thick layer of snow covered the opposite shore, disturbed only by the wind and the foxes, a neat trail of pawprints leading up the slopes. He followed them past stooping trees and crumbling ruins, higher and higher. He didn’t stop to examine what looked like a tombstone, letters slanted in a tongue unfamiliar. He didn’t mark the location down on his map.

If one could withstand the ever-present frost and the swaying wind, traversing Dragonspine wasn’t difficult. Granted, those two conditions were the primary reason why little to no adventurers braved the icy mountain, and why only few of those returned. Avoiding a frostarm lavachurl was easy when not numb and shivering. It’s how Albedo sneaked past the scant few hilichurls he came across on his way to the laboratory, silent in the snow, finding footing on the cliffs where a moment ago the stone was smooth and solid. Despite his sure steps, he found himself stopping just before he reached the old lab.

Beneath his feet, arching over the deep valley carved into the cliffs were gigantic, frost-polished ribs. Their shattered ends seemed to stab into the air, as if trying to spear the wind itself, even in their death. There was something stunning about Durin’s remains, unwilling to sink into the mountain even after half a millenia. Albedo wondered whether he would be preserved just like this upon his death, body not made to decompose, or if he would crumble under the unforgiving weight of time into a pile of powdery chalk. He wondered if Master would visit his corpse too, to examine it, to take back whatever she wanted from it, like a mechanist disassembling a broken clock to save on cogs, uncaring for what the parts used to belong to.

The wind ripping into his coat didn’t make him sway towards the empty stretch of the valley. No, he turned his gaze away and continued on his way, unwavering steps carrying him over to the ledge on the other side, to the cave that held the laboratory he stayed in the last time he was in Dragonspine.

There were large piles of snow and a few half-frozen, half-decomposed animals in the cave, but otherwise the lab appeared untouched. The alchemy bench was still in the back, tables and shelves stood by the walls, housing pots and boxes and glass equipment. He found a few research journals, mostly empty save for some experiment logs that described processes Albedo has done countless times in the past few centuries. Half the materials kept on hand were spoiled or just gone, rotted away without a trace, but the other half and most of the equipment was in usable condition, if in need of some upkeep. After clearing the cave of the snow and unwanted squirrel remains, Albedo deemed the lab functional enough to become his secondary research station.

The sun was slowly setting by the time he was finished in the cave, staining the snow and ice gold and pink. Albedo didn’t make a mental note to bring some painting supplies up to the lab, until he glanced at the crimson colour of Wyrmrest Valley and made the note anyway. Some small canvases and a handful of paints shouldn’t take up too much space.

He made his way down the mountain, the stars accompanying him as he passed the hills of Springvale and the great oak tree in Windrise. The city of Mondstadt, although quieter now, was still bustling, lit by the soft glow of lanterns and silvery moonlight. The guards at the gates looked at him strangely as he greeted them, perhaps wondering what he was doing out in the wild this late into the night, but said nothing of it.

He didn’t linger in the warmly lit streets. He headed straight towards the Favonius Headquarters, wishing to get a few hours of sleep so that he could start assembling equipment for the secondary lab early in the morning. Just as he reached the top of the stairs, he heard the clashing of swords from the practice ring behind the building.

Two boys were practicing, wide awake still in the dead of night. They were fighting with each other, their giggling breaking the focused frowns on their faces. One of them was wielding a greatsword, swinging it with ease, his flaming red hair bright even in the dark; the other, with dark locks and an eyepatch was circling him, darting in and out of his range, too quick to be caught. They teased each other between heavy breaths, and did over-the-top flourishes with their weapons when one was on the ground.

Cadets, Albedo thought to himself as he watched them for another moment. The Knights were to be prosperous if all of their members were this dedicated.

Albedo had been a resident of Mondstadt for two years, three months and eleven days when Grand Master Varka asked him to take up the mantle of Chief Alchemist.

It all started with a request for a meeting, innocent enough, usual enough. When the wide-eyed knight who was sent as courier stuttered the message out, mostly distracted by the chaos of the laboratory surrounding Albedo, the man thought nothing of it. Often enough Varka asked him to his office, inquiring if he could make this potion or that, if he could enhance weapons during the forging process, if he could concoct a deterrent for various monsters; inquiries that were more complex than the warming bottles for Dragonspine, or a fresh batch of crystalfly traps.

It was late morning when he was able to leave his lab, having finished up any sensitive experiments and leaving the simpler ones running without worry. He knew Timaeus would be visiting within the hour anyways, and would take care of any finishing touches, was Albedo’s meeting to run long. He made his way to the main hall, every step sending echoes rushing up the stairway curving upwards from the cellars.

He barely finished knocking on the door of the office when Varka called him in. He was sitting behind his desk, much like how Albedo saw him most of the time; surrounded by stacks and stacks of papers. Despite looking busy, Varka’s eye on him was sharp and razorlike, trying to slip underneath his skin without notice.

“Good morning, Albedo.”

“Good morning, Grand Master.”

“Please, take a seat”. Albedo didn’t say that he’d rather stand, for he wishes the meeting to be efficient, not for pleasantries. He sat.

Varka smiled at him, and Albedo thought that he was very much incorrect about the nature of this meeting. The Grand Master smiled often, and half the time it didn’t mean any good.

“You’ve been a great help for us these past two years.” He shuffled the papers in front of him, and deposited them on one of the piles. “Your alchemy has helped keep our knights and citizens safe, made knowledge flourish, and even caused an uptick in trade and tourism. Safe to say, you’ve become an important part of the city.” Something in his eyes shifted, glinted, as he tilted his head ever so slightly. “I hope that you, likewise, found your place in our nation?”

“Life in Mondstadt has indeed been peaceful. I cannot raise any complaints.”

“And how about the work you do for the Knights? Is it satisfactory? Have you had enough time to pursue your personal matters?”

Albedo was curious about what Varka wanted from him. No matter how much of his knowledge of alchemy he shared, Mondstadt was still in childrens’ shoes, toddling around when it came to the art. They didn’t know enough to truly start asking questions, to start really pushing their limits; they could not dream big enough that would’ve explained the hawklike way Varka was looking at him. And what other use did Albedo have outside of his alchemy? Did Varka want to put his combat abilities into practice, and assign him to a knightly patrol squad? A ridiculous, if possible, idea.

“I have no issue with the work the Knights require of me. It has been… enjoyable, to come up with small solutions.” He blinked. ”But I assume inquiring about my workplace experience is not the real reason for this meeting?”

Varka smiled again, small and smug. “I’m glad to hear work has been fulfilling. I asked you here because I would like to offer you a different position to consulting alchemist. If you wish to stay in Mondstadt for the long term, we would like to employ you as the Knight’s Chief Alchemist, and also make you the head of a new division; the Investigative Team. We will be extending a proposal to Miss Sucrose and Mister Timaeus to join said team, if you were to accept it.”

Small specks of dust danced through the morning light, perhaps the only moving thing around Albedo. He sat still as a statue, feeling all-too-vividly the way the cedarwood backrest curved against his spine, the strength with which the sun shone in through the window, the subtle, quiet rumble of Varka’s heartbeat.

Then he comprehended the question.

Become Chief Alchemist? One of the Knights? A Captain?

There was something strange about the offer, that Albedo couldn’t quite place. This was clearly a strategic decision, Varka would’ve been a fool to let someone like Albedo slip out of his grasp. But it carried an air of something else, something that Albedo was unfamiliar with. It reminded him of the way Sucrose asked him sometimes to join her in an experiment, or how Klee would beg him to go out with her and blow various wildlife to cinders.

“Of course, I don’t expect a response from you right now. This is the kind of decision that needs consideration.” Varka leaned back in his chair, hands clasped comfortably in his lap.” Decide this week. And if you have any further questions, you know where to find me.”

He reached for his quill again, and that made Albedo stand.

“I will do so. Have a good day.”

“Barbatos be with you,” Varka said as Albedo closed the office door behind himself.

The walk down to his laboratory felt longer than it was supposed to. His legs moved on their own while his mind was spinning like a windwheel aster caught in a storm. Chief Alchemist . A title with responsibility behind it that Albedo never had to wield. And yet, it offered something that he never thought he would think about having, something that labels by nature did; it served as a thin piece of twine tying the paper slip that Albedo was to the Knights. To Mondstadt.

To a place that he didn’t call home.

He came to a halt in front of the laboratory door. He observed the grainlines of the cedarwood, the pale brown colour. It was soft wood; it would be easy to put a nameplate up.

He sighed, small and quiet, and entered, and his mind didn’t, it did not, start wondering about what font would look prettiest on Chief Alchemist. Not until the end of the week.

Chapter Text

Dragonspine was perhaps an even bigger mystery to mondstadters than Stormterror’s Lair. While both largely inaccessible, especially for the general public, the Lair had a lot more of its history recorded and available. Both word of mouth and written records kept the tales about tyranny and freedom alive; meanwhile, most anyone knew about Dragonspine was that Durin fell there during the Cataclysm, speared by the hands of Barbatos and Dvalin, and that it was covered in never-yielding snow and ice.

Perhaps it was this air of mystery, and that it didn’t echo the bygone days of slavery and death, that the Adventurers’ Guild and even the Knights themselves were curious to explore the mountain. The Guild hid behind its general principle of not letting any stone stay unturned in Teyvat, while the Knights argued that monsters and bandits made camp there, on the border of the never-ending frost, or even deeper within it. Still, expeditions were far and few between; a good thing, if Albedo was to say anything of it. No reason to send people into certain death.

However, his frequent trips to his lab there, and the fact that he was always unscathed made both organizations bolder. If someone could do it, surely they, too, would find a way. During his comings and goings he’s met adventurer after adventurer, every one of them half frozen to death, stuck at the foot of the mountain, and he had to guide them out of the snow and within walking distance of the campsite the Guild kept nearby. It’s become a habit of his to always keep a handful of warming bottles on his person, when travelling up and down the mountain. At least the Knights’ patrols were a lot more careful; most he’s heard about was some frostbite that was easily treated at the Cathedral.

So, when he got a request from Varka to assist in an expedition aiming to wipe out some Fatui forces that had been gathering on the outskirts of Dragonspine, he wasn’t surprised in the least. And while he wasn’t keen on escorting a group of Knights, he couldn’t deny that he was intrigued about just what exactly were the Fatui up to that would warrant such a mission.

“Your experience with traversing the mountain will be invaluable for the party. Our intel tells us that the camps are centered around the mouth of Wyrmrest Valley, and some are inside as well.” For once, Varka was walking around his office, circling a table with a large map on it, littered with notes and pins of different shapes and sizes. He gestured for Albedo to join him. “The plan is to start from the Guild’s camp, and follow the river west to their camps.”

That was the easiest path to access Wyrmrest Valley. Albedo observed the purple pins scattered around the shore, and then three more deeper inside the valley. Strange that he never noticed them from the laboratory before. He also privately noted how some of the camps were set up where he knew veins of starsilver were easily accessible. 

He pointed at the pins inside the Valley. “Getting to these after clearing out the camps on the outskirts will be too much. You won’t have reliable sources of heat, and the remaining Fatui could easily ambush you. Even with campfires and proper gear, it will be difficult for the knights to handle the cold.”

“Everyone in this party has experience with Dragonspine. They know what to expect.”

“Still.” Dragging an entire party of half-frozen knights out of Dragonspine sounded like an awful hassle and a waste of time. “I would make that into a secondary phase of the expedition. Focus on clearing out the camps on the outskirts first.”

Varka hummed, staring at the map in thought for a moment, his face stern as ever. Then he nodded. “Alright. I trust your judgement.” He glanced at the large, intricate clock hanging on his wall. “The Captain leading the party should arrive any minute now. You two can discuss the details.”

That’s when Albedo realized that he never actually agreed to joining the expedition. When he got the request, it sounded like a mission where a dozen lives would be in his hands, something he never had to nor wanted to do. And yet Varka spun him into the conversation, cleverly quieting all his worries, until he found himself already planning the exact route they should take.

Before he could even think about raising that topic, a series of quick knocks sounded against the door, and a tall figure stepped in, clad in blue. Captain Kaeya greeted Varka with a smile, his face stilling into a strange sort of neutrality when he looked at Albedo. Then a grin broke the surface, washing away any disconcerting details like rings of waves hiding a reflection in water. He nodded at Albedo. “Chief Alchemist. Are you the one joining our Dragonspine expedition? How exciting!”

“I wasn’t aware it was a Cavalry outing. That complicates my plans.”

“Our men will be less tired that way, and our horses are exceptional.” Kaeya stepped over to the map, tracing his fingers along the pins. He glanced up at Albedo. “Why? Would you rather us be on foot?”

“We would be more maneuverable. And horses are loud.”

Kaeya’s lips twitched into something akin to a smile, lopsided and full of teeth. His voice poured over Albedo like cold creekwater. “We will be quicker and able to carry the necessary supplies with ease. Half the Dragonspine patrols are done by the Cavalry, both my men and our horses have plenty of experience with the area. What’s more, any captives will be transported a lot easier on horseback.” He leaned on the desk, palms flat on the wood, his form casting a shadow over the map. “I can assure you, you won’t take issue with the party.”

The matter of captives was not something that Albedo had considered before. He wasn’t sure if the Headquarters even had holding cells.

No matter. Kaeya was clearly briefed on the expedition beforehand, had time to consider the risks, the blind spots, and made his plans accordingly. He was more prepared than Albedo. He wondered who decided that he should be involved as well, and why now.

“Okay.” Regardless, he was involved now. “Let’s discuss the route and the timing then.”

Kaeya’s stilted smile grew wider. “With pleasure.”

The next morning found Albedo walking towards the stables with a stuffed bag slung over his back and a coat hanging from his shoulders. He had learned very early on that people got rather fussy over him if he traversed Dragonspine in his usual clothing; the coat, however unsuitable for any other person still, seemed to calm their questions. He had no intention of explaining the intricacies of a chalk-based lifeform to anyone. And from the way Sir Kaeya seemed to so often have him in the corner of his eye, he knew it would be in his best interest to avoid as much prying as possible.

The Cavalry was well into their preparations by the time Albedo arrived. Twenty or so horses were tied up in front of the stables, most of them already saddled; around them knights carrying bags and supplies. Lively chatter filled the air; town gossip, talk about the mission itself, jokes and teasing.

“Double check your beddings and the horse blankets!” Captain Kaeya’s voice rang clear across the courtyard. “We might have to stay longer than we’d like, and I don’t intend on bringing home anyone with frostbite other than some unruly Fatui!”

The knights hollered, and through the crowd Albedo finally spotted Kaeya. He was standing near the stables entrance, by the side of a bay horse. He looked to be in his element, giving out orders while fixing up the tack on his horse and keeping a watchful eye over the entirety of the courtyard. Their eyes met; the man’s glinted in its usual icy way. His gaze seemed to dip lower for a second, as he waved Albedo over.

“Chief Alchemist! Come, your horse is ready!”

Next to Kaeya’s mount stood a pale grey horse, already saddled and seemingly ready to go. It was nibbling on the rope tying it down, looking as bored as a horse could, in Albedo’s unprofessional opinion.

“Good morning, Captain Kaeya.” He greeted as he set his bag down against the wall of the stables.

The moment he came within five feet of them, Kaeya’s mare flicked its ears back immediately, and started kicking the ground, while the grey horse to Albedo’s right snorted and held its head high. Kaeya’s eyes flicked between the animals, frowning slightly. His gaze was catching on details, that much Albedo could tell, but he couldn’t say what details. “Good morning to you too, Captain Albedo. Karl!” he barked over his shoulder. “Bring out Sweet Salvation, please!” He smiled at Albedo, honey-sweet and sticky, then gestured at the grey horse. “I was planning on having you ride Foghorn here, but that seems to be more trouble than it’s worth.” His smile was slowly melting into a smirk. “Do horses often dislike you?”

Yes, actually. “I have little experience with them. I prefer walking to riding.”

“More maneuverable.”

“Yes.”

Kaeya moved away from what Albedo assumed was his own horse, from the fur collar draped over the saddle and the sword hanging from it. He started to remove the tack from Foghorn, while Albedo put a few more feet of distance between himself and the horses. That, and whatever soothing words the Captain was mumbling to them, seemed to calm them down soon enough.

“Why Foghorn?”

Kaeya’s hands stilled for a split second. Then he snorted and yelled over to one of his men. “Johan, remind me why this beast here is called Foghorn?”

A blonde man beside a black mare laughed. “Well, because he’s louder than one of those shneznayan dingies that are always making a ruckus in Dornman Port! Trust me, Sir Albedo, the last thing you want is him getting gassy!”

Some agreeable chuckles echoed through the courtyard. Kaeya pulled the blanket off of Foghorn’s back, depositing it on the neat pile of tack he just took off. He untied it, and handed the reins over to the arriving young man, who was leading a brown horse out of the stables. “Thank you, Karl. This,” he turned to Albedo while he secured the new horse to the post, “is Sweet Salvation.”

The animal regarded Albedo with a long, curious stare, then pushed its forehead into Kaeya’s chest. The man stumbled a little, and petted the horse’s nose with a chuckle.

Albedo observed the animal. It didn’t seem bothered by his presence, but he was still a few feet away from it. “And this one. Why Sweet Salvation?”

“Because,” Kaeya motioned for him to step closer, “he’s the one we put the fresh knights on who know nothing about riding a horse. They all agree it’s a fitting name! You will not find a more gentle and tolerant mount than him.”

Despite Albedo’s skepticism, Sweet Salvation didn’t bat an eye when he stepped next to it. It stood still, lazily swishing its tail a couple of times as Kaeya tightened the girth around its belly.

“Yes,” the Cavalry Captain grinned, and Albedo suddenly had the urge to step away from the horse,” Sweet Salvation will be perfect for you.”

The ride up to the Adventurers’ Guild camp at the foot of Dragonspine was uneventful. It was by far the most pleasurable time Albedo had while riding a horse, even with the too-high stirrups and the slowness of Sweet Salvation, but he was still eager to get his feet on the ground after hours of swaying in a saddle. The camp was cold as usual, a warning for the freezing weather one was to expect on the mountain. The knights huddled around campfires, wrapped in blankets and bedrolls, and were swapping stories with the adventurers over steaming bowls of goulash. The horses were all tied underneath a stone overhang, thick blankets draped over their backs; Albedo saw many of the knights stand up every once in a while and sneak an apple to one of them.

He accompanied Kaeya to a talk with the camp’s leader, Iris, despite Kaeya’s assurance that Albedo’s assistance was not needed. The Captain asked about any recent Fatui or Treasure Hoarder activities, and shared the broad strokes of his plan. It was either out of courtesy towards the adventurers, or to make sure that they would not interfere out of misunderstanding; Albedo wasn’t sure.

By the time the two scouts they sent out came back, it was already dark. They confirmed the positions of the camps and the rough numbers of Fatui agents, with accounts on which one of them held delusions and what kind. It seemed that the earlier patrol intel was correct, which satisfied the men and put a contemplating frown on Kaeya’s face. Regardless, the night passed peacefully, and at the first light of dawn, they rode out.

Knights clad in thick coats, with their armour glinting on top, enveloped in clouds of steaming breaths, they followed the river west. Captain Kaeya rode in the front, his usual fur collar still wrapped around his neck, but now sporting a thick, dark blue coat underneath it. His hair was braided and tucked into his collar, and his Vision reflected the sunlight just like the pommel of his sword did. He looked like he was made for Dragonspine. Albedo rode beside him, keeping an eye out for patches of ice hidden underneath the snow, and stirring them away from the places where he knew the snow would be too deep for even a horse.

The party split soon, half of them crossing the river at a shallow to get into the Fatui’s back. They were to catch anyone fleeing, while also making sure that reinforcements from the Valley wouldn’t interfere. To Albedo’s surprise, Kaeya went with that group, leaving the main offensive body.

He wondered why the Captain chose not to lead the charge. A knight took over as the lead of Albedo’s group; the ease with which she did so implied that this wasn’t an unusual occurence. Albedo did not voice any concerns, rather deciding to trust the ones more experienced in battle, and wait and see how the events would unfold.

Once they reached the safer paths where his insights about the terrain were no longer needed, he fell behind. Varka only asked him to function as a guide, and while Albedo wasn’t going to let the knights die at the hands of the Fatui, he wished to stay out of the fighting as much as possible. It was also likely the safest position to dismount his horse in, would he need to do such. He didn’t feel like having to maneuver in a frenzy of skittish, large-bodied herbivores.

With the first light of morning breaking through the clouds, the snow-covered tents of the Fatui came into view, and the Cavalry rode into battle.

Albedo had never seen proper military combat, much less combat with horses involved. Any fight he got into with monsters or bandits he fought alone or with Master, and he never stayed in crowded places, where any semblance of organized fighting could’ve taken place. He wasn’t excited. Observing a cavalry in battle was just a new piece of knowledge for him to file away.

The Knights pushed deep into the camps, and pushed in quickly. The Fatui clearly weren’t prepared for a large-scale attack, and even with their delusions, it was difficult to hold their own against skilled mounted combatants. As the group cleared out campsite after campsite, Albedo followed them further up the foot of Dragonspine, the path from Wyrmrest Valley curving behind them. With every fatuus captured, the party grew thinner, leaving knights behind to deal with the captives, and quickly overtaking most of the camps.

Albedo let Sweet Salvation come to a halt next to one of the captives, watching the rest of the Cavalry’s movement ahead of him. He clearly wasn’t needed, having done his job as a guide and the party handling the Fatui with relative ease. His horse mouthed at the birch tree next to them, scraping bark off with its teeth, hoping for something to graze on.

Then he heard jeering and heavy footsteps from behind, the wind carrying the sting of ozone. He turned around to see Fatui rushing into the camp from the direction of Wyrmrest Valley, their weapons glinting with electricity and unnatural frost. They were close; too close.

He slid off the back of Sweet Salvation, and sent an arc of crystals towards the Fatui, making them trip and stumble. The ones who got past he met head on, parrying their strikes with his sword, not letting them past and into the back of the Cavalry. The earth churned underneath his feet, spitting up snow and ice as he let the power from his vision permeate it, and then willed it to his aid. He had to keep a close eye on the enemy, trying to keep them at bay while not hurting the horse behind him. He cut, stabbed, and sent rocks flying, keeping multiple Fatui from rushing past, but there were simply too many. He heard the sound of hooves, and hoped that the party was ready to face the danger coming from their back.

In his effort of giving the Cavalry time to prepare, he neglected his own defenses. A tall fatuus charged at him, wielding one of those large, electro-infused hammers Albedo always hated, and he barely managed to avoid the strike. Lightning danced across the snow, throwing powdery white into the air, and Albedo noticed the hammer swinging towards his head a second too late. He braced himself for the impact, reaching for the art of Khemia to counter the blow, when a large shard of ice burst into millions of glittering crystals on the head of the hammer, the force of it staggering the fatuus.

Backlit by the rising sun, ice circling him and his horse, sword drawn and red, Captain Kaeya appeared behind the man like a vengeful ghost. He swung his blade, and ice shot out from its path, cutting the fatuus down.

Then he let his eyes rest on Albedo. The one not covered by the eyepatch seemed to almost shine from the inside, like an icicle ignited by the sun, ready to drop and pierce, and Albedo did not let the power of the art leave his fingers.

“You ought to be more careful than that, Sir Albedo,” Kaeya drawled. His horse threw its head up, raring to charge back into the fray. “The Grand Master would be disappointed to see his most profitable Captain dead. Not to mention little Klee! She would cry for days! ”

There was a tug in Albedo’s chest.

“Your worry is unwarranted. I can protect myself.”

Something ravenously cold passed over Kaeya’s face, only there for a moment. “Then do so.”

The yelling of knights, a burst of frost, and Kaeya wasn’t by Albedo’s side anymore. He joined the rest of the Cavalry in cleaning up the back end of the Fatui forces, sword and vision aiding him in carving a path to the rest of his men.

Albedo watched him in between strikes as he took care of the few straggling Fatui. He was a capable warrior. His movements were calculated, efficient, and his aim precise. He had good control over the power of his vision, being able to use it in the midst of allies without hurting any one of them with a stray icicle or a shot of frost gone wide. He certainly lived up to a Cavalry Captain’s expectations.

Soon enough the camps were emptied. Kaeya was quick about interrogating the few captives; by the time Albedo joined him in the tent, he was advising the battered and bruised Fatui to consider changing career paths into something more valuable to the community, and which would be a lot safer as well. Albedo noted the way he kept his hand on the hilt of his sword, in fake absentmindedness that made the Fatui members nod without hesitation to everything he said.

He stood still by the entrance as they were let go, scrambling off in the direction of Liyue. “Not transporting any prisoners back?”

Kaeya did not move his hand from his sword as he looked over to Albedo. There was blood smeared across his clothes, and a small splatter on his face that stained some of his locks red. “No need. They told me everything they knew. Better to have them outside of Mondstadt as soon as possible.”

“Any important intel?”

A cold breeze sneaked through the tent flaps, curling around his neck. Kaeya smiled. “Nothing immediately urgent. You’ll be free to read the report I will be submitting once we’ve returned to the city.”

Master used to talk like this, in those early years. She always thought twice before answering any of Albedo’s questions, and paid very close attention to what he ended up doing with the information she revealed to him. Always doubtful, always searching. He frowned.

“They got into our backs without warning. Your group was supposed to hold them back.”

Kaeya’s expression remained unchanged. “Unfortunate, that. More of them hid in the Valley than we originally thought; some slipped past. Not that anyone got hurt because of it.”

Albedo thought about the timing of Kaeya's arrival, how he cut that fatuus down in the last possible second. He didn’t think that the man intentionally let the Fatui ambush them; that would’ve been absurd. It would’ve been even more absurd if he had waited to help Albedo, choosing to observe his fighting skills for as long as possible. And yet, that blue eye did always seem to linger on Albedo, like fern frost creeping over a window, trying to find cracks in the glass.

He held Kaeya’s gaze, peering into that uniquely shaped pupil. “The Cavalry must be lucky.”

Kaeya chuckled, and glanced outside, to the gathering Knights.

“That they are.”

During the weeks after the Dragonspine expedition, Albedo grew certain that Captain Kaeya was monitoring him. He often lingered in places adjacent to Albedo; at Hunter’s Mark when Albedo was visiting Timaeus’ alchemy shop, near the Guild stall when he was on his way to Alice’s, on patrol routes intersecting with Albedo’s path when he was travelling to and from his private lab. He never stayed in his presence, always leaving when he arrived, always feeling like a coincidence, but he was everywhere.

Whenever they did have a conversation, Kaeya was perfectly polite, if somewhat distanced. Perfectly normal, perfectly Knightlike; no need for interpersonal relations. Albedo wouldn’t have spared it a second thought otherwise, but all the small coincidences about his behaviour were slowly shaping into a larger picture. He didn’t know why Kaeya thought it important to watch his every move. But he knew that that’s what was happening. And it made him very, very curious.

Chapter Text

When they were little, Diluc, Jean and Kaeya played in Windrise often. They would chase each other around the great oak tree, trying to hide between the roots; Diluc couldn’t stop laughing and would give them away every time. They would tease Jean about her crush on Vanessa, until she was chasing them up the tree, and then suddenly it was a climbing competition rather than vengeance. They felt like mountaineers, balancing along the thick branches. Kaeya always went the furthest, scooting out until the branch was bending underneath his weight, and he would make it wiggle just to hear the other two shriek, and then cry when his foot slipped and he thought he would fall.

Sometimes they made flower crowns out of the dandelions and windwheel asters. The asters always wilted by the time they were done, but they still wore them, and when the crowns came apart and fell off their heads, Jean would place them at the foot of the crumbling statue. Tribute , she would say, oh so serious. Diluc always retorted, saying Barbatos valued actions more than words, and then Kaeya would butt in, arguing that he is the god of poetry , so actually he would probably like words the most.

Now, Kaeya stood alone underneath the heavy bows. He gazed up at the canopy, a dome of green night dotted with the pinpricks of sunshine. His favourite branch, that provided the best view, broke off in a storm last year, leaving a mess of scar tissue and emptiness in its place. The root he was sitting on dug into his back, the rough bark reminding him that some places just weren’t for him anymore. Maybe ever.

He sighed as he heard the rustle of footsteps. He recognized that sure, steady rhythm, knew how the heels clicked on the marble tiles of the Favonius Headquarters, how the ponytail would swish at a sharp turn. He closed his eyes, relaxing against the unfriendly root.

“Finch is on her way to Falcon Coast. What do you think Varka will do to you if you lose his best horse?”

“Come on, Jean! I would never! Have some faith in me.” He smirked, waiting for that exasperated scoff.

“Pff.” There it is . “I’ll do so when your horse is back in safety.”

“She’ll come around. She knows danger when she sees it; I taught her well, after all!”

“Right, and did you also teach her to avoid said danger? Maybe not, seeing as you can’t serve as an example for that.”

Kaeya cracked his eye open. “I sense a jab coming from you.”

Jean’s glare was like midwinter wind, cold and staggering, trapping the breath in his lungs. “Do you, now?”

With another sigh, Kaeya sat up properly, and stuck two fingers on his mouth. His sharp whistle made Jean flinch ever so slightly, but the small brown form of Finch in the distance lifted its head up, and started trotting back to her rider. She would’ve circled back to him soon enough; she liked grazing along the creek shore, and knew Kaeya didn’t like her wandering out of hearing distance, but the man wanted to diffuse as much of Jean’s anger as he could.

He scooted to the side, and patted the root. “Come on, don’t just stand there like a lone stalk of mint.”

His amiability softened the frown on Jean’s face. She sat, almost as if she was sitting down in her office, full of grace and purpose. “Acting nice won’t save you from the scolding, you know.”

“Now, but why would I get scolded, Sir Jean? You know I’m a model Knight.” Jean pushed at Kaeya’s shoulder, dislodging his hand from over his heart. There was a seriousness in the tight corner of her mouth and the arch of her brows that made Kaeya swallow his next words.

She picked at a long blade of grass, splitting it in two with her fingernail. She split the parts again and again, until they were too thin and she couldn’t get a good grasp on them anymore.

“Why did you go after those Fatui?”

Oh, luck never really did like him, did it? He thought he was so careful about sneaking off after them, making his usual excuses of late night patrols and training rides, using the lightless hours of the night to track his targets. When he got back from the Dragonspine mission, he wasn’t questioned why he let those Fatui go; mercy , is what everyone assumed. Why would he fall into senseless bloodshed, after all? He even took extra care writing his report, lest the prying eyes of the Chief Alchemist find all the places he left information out. But clearly, the gods finally found it was time for him to come clean.

As if he wasn’t raised to be deaf to the voice of the Archons.

Kaeya smiled, biding his time. “I believe it is my job to take care of any suspicious Fatui in Mondstadt.”

“And you followed them into Sal Terrae. To my knowledge, that isn’t part of Mondstadt.”

And that she definitely wasn’t meant to know.

 “Why would I follow anyone into Sal Terrae?” The lie slid off his tongue like a sugar-coated candy, hiding cold medicine underneath the crust. He knew not to underestimate Jean, she knew too many of his tells. “If you are thinking about those Fatui that we drove off Dragonspine last week, I just went on a patrol to make sure they wouldn’t try and sneak back anytime soon. Worry not, I kept very close to the mountains. Didn’t set a single toe in Liyue!”

Jean eyed him carefully, but he made sure to wash the blood off his blade right there on the snowy slopes. Clean as freshly bleached linen, he was.

“So, it wasn’t because…” She didn’t finish the sentence, avoiding Kaeya’s prying eyes, training her gaze on the returning form of Finch. She huffed, tension draining from her shoulders. “Huh. That’s good. Still, no more secret mission behind the Knights’ back, understood?”

Wasn’t because of what? “Aye aye, captain!” Another shove. Kaeya never did get used to how strong her punches were. “So, is that all that drove you out here? Into the scary, horse-eating wilderness?”

Jean finally shrugged off the heavy, starched mantel of her position. She leaned back on her hands, long legs stretched out in the waving grass, shoulders still raised. “It’s my job to make sure our Captains are in line. It’s your fault I’m here, really.”

“Oh, yes, the horror of spending time with me. Poor, poor Jean.”

They both chuckled, letting silence envelope them. It felt like a heavy fog to Kaeya; he had not a clue what Jean could’ve thought was his reasoning, and it gnawed at his side like a stray dog. But he wasn’t sure if he wanted to risk any further prying. Instead, he reached into his pocket, and offered a shiny red apple to Finch.

“You still take the horses here to train.”

Kaeya glanced at the woman beside him, wiping the apple juice and horse spit off his fingers. He wasn’t the first Captain to do so. “How observant of you!”

“Shut it!” A grin, a glare. “I always wondered why. Varka keeps complaining that no one uses the training rink.”

“They like it more out here.” He let Finch sniff at his fingers, enjoying the softness of her nose. “The rink is good to have if the weather is too rough, but you would also get bored of running around in a circle for days on end. Besides, the more used to the outdoors they are, the more they can handle the rush of battle.”

Jean hummed, smiling as Finch sniffed at her as well, searching for more treats. There was something in her eyes, a sort of quiet sadness that made Kaeya want to ask. He didn’t. He didn’t have to.

There was another beat of silence, heavy like a summer storm.

“It’s his birthday next week.”

When they were young, really young, Adelinde would bake them a cake. Not just an ordinary cake, no, it had tiers and frosting and marzipan figurines, shaped into whatever their current fancy was. Diluc always had chocolate spongecake, Kaeya liked lemon more. They would haunt Adelinde all day, begging her to let them have a slice, just a tiny one, but they always had to wait until after dinner, when Crepus would let them blow out all the candles, and then ceremoniously place a slice on their plates. They ate until they couldn’t even stand the sight of cake anymore, and then would sneak down to the kitchen again after midnight to get a bit more still. The tradition was kept even after they grew up; Kaeya remembered that when Diluc became Cavalry Captain, his - now smaller -  cake was decorated with adorable little marzipan horses.

For the past two years, every spring, when the sun started shining hot enough to make him shake his capelet off, Kaeya would get holed up in his room with a bottle of dandelion wine and a chocolate cupcake. He would stick the appropriate number of candles onto the cupcake, always with more force than necessary, and then he would sit there, candles unlit, a twinkling pyro vision lying next to it on the table, and he would finish the bottle of wine himself.

“I know.”

He knew this year wouldn’t be any different.

“No news of him, I assume?”

“None.”

“Yeah. Sounds about right.”

Silence stretched between them like those threads of spidersilk floating in summer, sticky and seemingly unable to snap. Kaeya wondered if Jean still bought him gifts; she used to get small things, thoughtful things, things to be kept close and used often. Maybe she had two small parcels collecting dust in a drawer, a third on the way. Maybe she didn’t, and Kaeya was the only fool left in this city.

Jean let a breath out, almost soundless but not quiet enough to keep the secret of her sorrow. She stood, and dusted off her pristine uniform. “I should head back. Still have reports to finish and a meeting to schedule with Sir Albedo.” She cleared her throat. “Will you join me?”

Kaeya was a fox, trapped under the roots of a long-dead tree stump, his shelter now a cage . Maybe he was meant to die on these crumbling stone steps, with all his cunning and teeth. Tribute .

“No, I’ll let Finch run around a bit more. Maybe take her on a proper ride to finish the day off. But I wish you tremendous pleasure in filling out those reports!” He smiled at her, pulling one corner of his lips higher than the other, willing an airiness into his eyes. He’s gone. His absence doesn’t weigh me down, that’s not how mass works. You don’t have to worry about me. Jean let him tell the lie, and smiled in return, something equally porcelain-like.

“I’ll see you later then.” She gave Finch one last noserub. “Don’t let him grow on your head!”

The mare snorted in agreement, and Kaeya couldn’t blame her. Maybe he’s been a weed all his life, growing in places he shouldn’t have, always finding the cracks and crevices to sneak higher, craving the light he wasn’t made for. He wondered what Jean had to discuss with the Chief Alchemist, if he could ask for her opinion on him, if she knew about any shady dealings of his. Maybe he, too, was just a plant searching for the light he was never supposed to taste. Or maybe he was here to take him back where he belonged; six, sixty, six hundred feet below.

Kaeya was well aware that not everyone among the Knights was a fan of the way he handled a Cavalry Captain’s duties, or moreso, the way he didn’t handle them. He knew all the gossip about his work ethic, about his reckless tendencies. A good portion of Mondstadt’s population thought that he was one of Varka’s bad days away from being demoted for spending more hours in Angel’s Share than outside of it.

They were wrong, of course. Kaeya knew the line of Varka’s patience well, and trusted the Grand Master to see his games for what they were, mostly because Varka often used the very same tactics.

He was in Angel's Share as usual, passing the night with drinks and chatter. The tavern was lively and warm and smelled of alcohol and a weary day, the atmosphere crowned by Six-fingered Jose’s singing and the glass of Death After Noon in Kaeya’s hand. This, he thought, was the authentic Mondstadt experience.

“Make some space! Oh no, I’m gonna spill-” With a loud thunk , Amber placed five tankards of ale on the table. Miraculously only some of the froth splashed over the edge, promising to add five new ring-shaped stains to the surface of the wood. She righted herself from her stumble, wiping a hand across her forehead. “Whew, that was close! I swear, no one in this place pays attention to one another…”

“Mm, that’s because everyone who spends more than five minutes here gets shitfaced.” Kaeya took a sip of his drink. “It’s the charm of the place.”

Amber scooted past him to get to her seat on the bench. Their spot was one of Kaeya’s favourite; in the back corner, with a perfect view of the whole tavern, but obscured enough that anyone entering wouldn’t immediately notice them. “You really should stop jeering it with how much time you spend here.”

“It’s constructive criticism.”

“Oh, you don’t want that! ” Emma, Kaeya’s second in command, threw herself onto the seat opposite of them, black hair spilling over her shoulders, three glasses glinting in her hand. “Nothing about his criticism is constructive .” She pushed a glass in front of Kaeya, keeping two for herself. The cocktail in it was purple, and carried the aroma of wolfhook and firewater. “He just likes complaining.”

She winked at Amber, who could barely contain her giggling. Kaeya just smiled at her. “Why, isn’t your tongue cut quite sharp tonight! Just make sure you won’t regret that during the morning drills.”

“But it would be a horribly mean thing to punish me like that, Captain!”

And you know me to be the charitable sort? Kaeya smiled wider. “It would, wouldn’t it?”

Two more of Kaeya’s men broke through the crowd, Finn and Daniel. Emma waved at them, gesturing to pick up the pace. “We need to get the Captain drunk tonight!” she announced as they both sat. “Drunk enough to skip the morning training. It’s important!”

“I don’t have enough mora for that” sighed Finn.

“You piss him off again?” Daniel grabbed the third glass of wolfhook cocktail, and clinked it against Kaeya’s own.

Kaeya thought about the bottle of dandelion wine waiting for him in his room. He snickered over the rim of his glass, hiding the sudden bitter taste in his mouth. “Oh, no, she would never!”

Emma met his gaze, sharp as her tongue. “Indeed, I didn’t! I merely offered some constructive criticism.”

They all laughed, and after a toast the evening quickly took its usual turns. Amber bemoaned her latest troubles with her exploding puppet that she named Baron Bunny, while Finn shared the latest liyuen gossips that he heard from one of his friends. Kaeya listened with only half an ear, paying more attention to the other conversations happening in the tavern. One of the local Treasure Hoarders that he had yet to bother catching was murmuring about his next plans with his crew. A young Knight two tables over was complaining about how hard the training was. A group of sumerian travellers were ranting to each other about some academic dispute, their arguments too full of jargon for Kaeya to be able to fully keep up.

He tuned back into the conversation at his table when he heard a familiar, dreaded name.

“Sir Albedo’s laboratory isn’t nearly that scary!” Emma waved her tankard in Finn’s face. “You are just a coward!”

The man shoved the tankard away, spilling ale on the floor. Kaeya felt a tinge of sympathy towards Charles, who would have to mop it up after closing. “No, no, it is! It’s full of strange contraptions and jars filled with weird things! I swear, he has a living jellyfish down there!”

Kaeya recalled the one time he visited Albedo’s lab, after one too many politely refused offers. He was tempted to agree with Finn.

“I did always wonder what he gets up to when he isn’t concocting stuff for the Knights” Daniel drawled. His eyes were glued to the table, seemingly minutes away from passing out. “And like, people complain, sure, but who would you replace him with? Sucrose?”

“Sucrose is a great alchemist!” Amber defended. “She’s just… meticulous! I’m sure she could eventually take over, even without a recommendation letter!”

All the chatter filling the tavern quieted for Kaeya. He turned to Amber. “Without a recommendation letter? Did the Chief Alchemist have one?”

Amber nodded hard enough to dislodge her headband. “Yep! I heard it was from Alice! It’s why he got a lab immediately! My gramps was super surprised, but he trusted Varka so he never questioned it.”

Emma leaned on the table. “I heard that Alice was just the middlewoman, and the letter came straight from some mysterious organization.”

Kaeya’s blood turned cold and sluggish his veins. A mysterious organization? Was he sent here straight from Khaneri’ah? From whoever still remained? He thought about the research notes he found a week ago during the Dragonspine mission, talking about a strange cave in Wyrmrest Valley that was warm and humid and full of red, veinlike crystals, and what looked uncomfortably like a large, petrified heart, that the author speculated was Durin’s. Maybe he wasn’t Albedo’s target? Or did he have multiple objectives to complete?

He downed the rest of his glass. Think , he ordered himself. These were just rumors with slightly above average credibility. But it made sense . The recommendation letter, and it coming from Alice, someone who Albedo was close with. With his talent, he wouldn’t have needed the letter, he could’ve proved himself within a few weeks. It meant that getting a lab was urgent. It meant that Albedo came here on someone’s orders.

“As interesting as this conversation is, I’m afraid I must take my leave.” He grabbed the empty tankards as he stood. “I have a strict Cavalry training to plan out for the morning.”

“Aw, come on, Captain!”

“Yeah, don’t be so mean, Captain!”

He smiled at his men, ignoring the way it made his face hurt. “We’ll just have to see if I stay true to my word, won’t we?”

He left the table with a chorus of bye, captain! following behind him. Charles nodded at him when he placed the tankards on the counter, and he bit through his bitterness to nod back before exiting the tavern.

The late spring evening only had the barest of chill to it, mostly thanks to the winds that never ceased racing through the streets of the city. Kaeya stood still for a moment, taking a slow, deep breath. He still felt like he was treading water in an icy river, the cold seizing his lungs up, the current threatening to drag him under. He needed to gather all the loose pieces of himself and see this through, even if it meant the end of him. He wasn’t going to give up a lie half-finished.

Ink spread over parchment as his quill stumbled again, adding yet another stain to his growing collection. He put it down carefully, placing it in its holder with measured, gentle movements. There was a cramp in his back and a tremor in his fingers and he wanted to smash at least ten things against a wall, preferably starting with his own head. The warm, yellow light of his lamp illuminated the mess of papers in front of him, full of crossed out names and circled locations and torn-up plans, the unripe, already rotting fruit of his labour. He felt like he took root in his office, incapable of leaving.

It was one of those mornings that was more the end of a long day rather than the start of a new one. The sky was still dark, dawn nowhere to be seen, but the cathedral bell tolled its midnight song hours ago. Kaeya sat in his chair, arranging reports and requests into their respective files to be delivered to Varka, and he felt a great kinship towards the slowly molding cupcake that’s been sitting abandoned on his nightstand for the fourth day now. He, too, felt like something fuzzy and ravenous was quietly chewing him up from the inside.

He took a deep breath as he looked over his papers once more. A Treasure Hoarder trail that he hoped would lead him to more information about the bloody and buried secrets of Dragonspine. Notes of a conversation he had with a merchant, who claimed to have seen Albedo in Sumeru four years ago, but couldn’t actually tell him if it was in Port Ormos or at Caravan Ribbat. Leads that either ended up fraying into nothingness between his fingertips, or they simply had too little at their core for them to actually be useful for Kaeya.

He ground his teeth, clenching his fist around nothing, holding his frustration firmly by its leash. Maybe it was time to call it a night. There was little point in wearing himself thin, other than self-flagellation. A captain’s duties had to be tended to, and he had to tend to them well.

He tidied his desk enough to not leave anything suspicious out in plain sight, grabbed the folders he needed to drop off at Varka’s, and left his office.

The Headquarters was dark and quiet at this hour, save for the handful of candles still flickering in the corridors, and the wind whistling past the windows. Kaeya walked down the hallway with quiet steps, not wanting to disturb the silence, break the bubble of peace. He turned the corner to Varka’s office, only to halt in his steps as he spotted a figure in the dark.

The lithe, pale form of the Chief Alchemist quietly closed Varka’s door, locking it and standing on his tiptoes to place the spare key back on the top of the doorframe. He didn’t seem to notice Kaeya, turning away from him and starting to head towards the main staircase.

Kaeya whispered a prayer of thanks to Barbatos for having his sword on him. Exhaustion disappeared from his limbs like a fog lifting, and there was a frost crawling up his throat, snarling, ready to bite. He swallowed it down, letting it fester in his lungs instead.

What could’ve he been up to? Only a handful of people were told about the spare key to Varka’s office, and Albedo was most definitely not one of them. Kaeya thought about the mountains of documents detailing secret or highly confidential missions, the city’s defensive plans, diplomatic correspondence, trade contracts. Archons knew the things Albedo could do with that information; the destruction he could sow.

Kaeya exhaled, ice biting his lips raw.

“Chief Alchemist! What a surprise to see you around here at this hour!”

Albedo froze, then turned on his heel. Those large teal eyes shone with a strange light, almost glowing from within in the dimness of the hallway. “Sir Kaeya. I was just delivering some documents to the Grand Master.” His eyes stayed on Kaeya’s approaching form. “Burning the midnight oil, as some would say, despite it being quite a few hours past midnight.”

An adequate excuse, that coming from anyone else Kaeya would’ve entertained for a bit. Unfortunately for both of them, the beast called frustration in his chest was snapping its jaws, trying to shake its muzzle off.

“Oho! Well, now you’ve got me curious!” He was right in front of the alchemist now. He always forgot how short he was, but even from this angle, the star on his neck seemed to wink up at Kaeya. “What could’ve possibly been so urgent to make you stay up this late?”

Albedo didn’t budge. He looked up at Kaeya, unflinching. Probing Scheming.“I often work late. But,” he tilted his head ever so slightly, khaenri’ahn spilling forth from behind his teeth “ I could be asking you the same question .”

The last time Kaeya heard that language roll off of someone’s tongue was on a rainy night when he was still as innocent as a child of a cursed nation could be. It was a knife, tearing into a scar with calculated precision, reopening the flesh for the sake of showing it the light of day again. In the next heartbeat, he had Albedo pressed up against the wall, hand fisted in the collar of his shirt, his sword pressing against that ungodly mark on his neck.

“Don’t you fucking dare use those words here” he hissed. “You could fool the rest of the Knights, but I know you are here to get us all killed. I don’t care if I have to finish you right here, I won’t let you put Mondstadt in danger!”

The air was growing colder and colder around them. Albedo didn’t seem to care about the blade almost cutting his throat open, his handsome face blank as usual. But his eyes; they were calculating and merciless.

“I wondered for a long time why you were watching me. Seems like my hypothesis was right.”

Kaeya moved without a second thought, slicing into Albedo’s throat. Before he could do any real damage though, the alchemist grabbed his blade and forced it back, making Kaeya stumble. He moved to strike again, and his blood froze in his veins as he watched Albedo tear one of the candelabras off the wall with unnatural ease, and in a flash of golden light suddenly have a sword in his hands, parrying his strike. The wound on his neck, despite being deep enough to open up muscle, did not bleed.

Sweet Celestia, what was he?

“This is a mistake,” Albedo said.

“You are a monster, ” Kaeya growled, and attacked again.

Two more failed strikes, and Albedo was right up in Kaeya’s face. Before he could summon any ice by his side, he was slammed into the wall, the alchemist's small hand pressing down on his sternum with worrying force, the point of his cast iron sword resting right over Kaeya’s heart. Kaeya wanted to reach out, to stab and punch and freeze, but found his hands stuck to the wall, caught in some hooks suddenly protruding out of the wooden paneling.

The kind of power Albedo was using was not the work of a vision. He was moulding his surroundings without a blink of an eye, in a way that surpassed any old legend about what alchemy could do.

It was the single most terrifying thing Kaeya has ever witnessed.

“I,” Albedo said with the most emotion in his voice Kaeya has ever heard from him “am no monster.”

“Funny, they always say that.”

The air was slowly forced out of his lungs as Albedo pressed down harder. Kaeya was a hare trapped in the claws of a hawk, waiting to be killed or be toyed with. “You clearly think I am a Khaenri’ahn agent. I am not. My purpose here is far more important than that, and you are nowhere near strong enough to stop me from pursuing it.

“Now, I don’t know why you are here in Mondstadt, seemingly embedded into the Knights of Favonius, withholding information and carrying out secret missions in the dead of night. I could accuse you of being an agent, and I’m sure I would not struggle with finding evidence. But I have better things to do.” He held Kaeya in place, and for a long, long second nothing moved. Kaeya just stared into those horrifying, cold, determined eyes, that looked confident enough to turn the world inside out like one butchers a rabbit. He could’ve been skinned, gutted, pulled on a spike and roasted above a fire, and it would’ve felt better than this; knowing that someone other than a lost brother held his secret. Knowing that Albedo only had to move a pinky to spread all of his lies out on an autopsy table, bathed in blood as they were.

He had nothing to respond with. There was no breath in his lungs and his tongue was frozen to his teeth in terror. Taking the silence as an answer in itself, Albedo slowly pulled back. The sword in his hand crumbled into fine black powder, staining the carpet.

He blinked, and it seemed to break a spell on Kaeya, letting him take a much needed breath. “I trust we can continue to be civil coworkers?”

Kaeya expected Albedo to hold his heart in his hands, and was reeling from the fact that he wasn’t. He somehow managed to muster up a coherent and even reply. “Naturally.”

“Excellent.” Albedo nodded, then turned on his heel. “Good night.”

Kaeya was left alone in the dark hallway, the only evidence of their struggle the missing candelabre and the pile of dark dust on the floor. He kicked the pile apart, once he was sure his knees wouldn’t give out, and retreated to his room, reports be damned.

He sat on his bed, dawn slowly tearing up the darkness of the horizon, and waited for his heart to start beating again. He wasn’t sure what he just experienced in that hallway. The demonstration of power, the destruction of his lies; and that it ended the way it did…

He gingerly touched his chest where his ribs were almost broken, and drew the only sensible conclusion of the night.

He was very, very wrong about the kind of threat Albedo was to Mondstadt.

Chapter Text

Albedo closed the door of the laboratory behind himself. He didn’t lean against it, no matter how close his back and the wooden boards were to each other. He stood still, and counted the seconds passing him by, letting time distance him from the fight.

He felt… too much. There was the rush of adrenaline from the fight, from using the Art; a dizzying clarity that made the world too sharp and too transparent. He’s not used that much Khemia at once in a long, long time, and now it permeated every speck of chalk his body was made of. His fingertips still tinged with a sort of numbness, his awareness of his body bleeding into his awareness of the stone bricks in the walls and the threads of the hallway carpets and the faint images of bodies resting in the building.

And then there was that nauseating, lung-crushing feeling too; anger. He swallowed once, twice, trying to stop his throat from closing up. In his mind he replayed the scene: the icy, cutting fury in Kaeya’s eyes, his guttural snarl. You are a monster. Albedo’s fingers curled in on themselves from the memory, the fiery pit of anger in his stomach spitting sparks.

But, lurking beneath his agitation and ecstasy, there was a third feeling. A feeling that made him want to walk back to Kaeya, to ask him, tell me more about Khaenri’ah. Have you been in the ruins? Did you survive the collapse? Do you remember? It laced his veins with something deceptively lukewarm, that felt hotter and hotter the more he concentrated on it.

He stepped further into the room. He closed his eyes, and ignored every beating heart and crumb of mortar he could sense, closing out all the information imparted by the Art bit by bit. However incredible it was to use Khemia, if the wielder didn’t focus on it, it was an awfully disorienting experience, and he wanted his head clear, ready to process all the discoveries he just made. As he opened his eyes, his balance was finally even, and the world was its usual amount of tangible.

With his thoughts slowly settling, he walked to his desk, the one he kept most of his research notes on, and sifted through the papers until he found the little list pertaining to Sir Kaeya. There were pitiful few clues on it; his four pointed pupil, being an adopted Rangvindr, and the strange make of his vision. When the thought first crossed his mind, he barely considered it. A man in his twenties, living in Mondstadt, being khaenri’ahn? It was absurd, and more importantly, he had no concrete evidence. But it kept nagging at him. And he never liked leaving a question unanswered. So, just like Kaeya kept his eyes on Albedo, he kept his eyes on the Captain in return.

Now, the mystery was uncovered. He guessed, entirely un-fitting of a researcher, in that corridor, and he was right. 

His pencil skid across the paper as he noted down the details of the fight, every bit of Kaeya’s mannerisms and movement patterns, what seemed to stoke his anger and what doused it into fear. His question was answered, yes, but he suddenly had hundreds more, all giving him that itch in his very core that he always felt when he was about to tackle something big, intricate, and delicate. He wrote down question after question until he was running out of space and had to search around for a second piece of paper. How was an ordinary khaenri’ahn walking around on the other side of the world, five hundred years after the cataclysm? How was he wielding a vision? Where did he come from, why did he come here, and how? Most of these queries were, of course, ones he knew he wouldn’t get an answer for, not anytime soon. Kaeya was clear about what he saw Albedo as; the metaphorical dragon, seeking to destroy the kingdom and its people. It was clear from his eyes and his words, and even clearer from the gaping wound spanning Albedo’s neck.

He traced along the cut. It barely ached, and it wasn’t bleeding either, though his fingertips came away red. He grabbed a mirror to examine the wound. It stretched diagonally across his throat, from the corner of his chin to near his collarbone, slicing through the star on his neck. He frowned, realizing what a hassle it will be to cover it up.

Despite not being prone to infections, he still cleaned it, wrapped a neat, narrow strip of gauze around it, then hid it all underneath his yellow scarf. As much as he didn’t want questions, he also wished to avoid worrying his students, or, archons forbid, Klee. This conflict, and all of its secrets, was to be kept between him and Kaeya.

If he could trust his words on it.

He hadn’t really considered what would happen if Kaeya were to reveal his connection to Khaenri’ah. Few people knew of Khaenri’ah these days, and fewer would believe Kaeya’s words, but with how close he was with the Grand Master and the Gunnhildrs, it was likely they would hear him out, at the very least. Maybe the Knights would chase Albedo out with pitchforks and torches, or send him away with a calm but firm hand. Maybe, however small a chance, they would try killing him and Kaeya both. Or something equally unlikely: care not for it. The city of freedom welcomed any and all who wanted to live in peace, their strangeness forgiven, ignored, or encouraged. Perhaps they would let the past rest, and focus on the present.

He stared at the paper in his hand, teeming with questions, already planning the methods in which he will obtain the answers. He would have to leave Kaeya room to breathe, for his panic to settle; three to five days, perhaps a week. Reestablish the collegial relationship, and demonstrate the secret being kept. Then he could start probing, learn how far he could press and how often, find the things that would make Kaeya spit out honesty on accident. Maybe he could try for camaraderie, for sweetness was usually easier to swallow than bile. He would also need to consider what truths he himself was willing to give up; from what he had seen and heard, Kaeya never settled for a deal he got nothing out of. His research would be partially an exchange of information.

Albedo placed the paper in its designated drawer. Excitement made his movements swift, elation smoothed them out. He gathered his bag of painting supplies; the easel, canvases already on the frame, brushes and paints, charcoal for sketching. He left a note on his door, saying he was leaving for a four day trip to Dadaupa Gorge, and slipped a more official submission for leave underneath the Grand Master’s door. He walked out the city gates into the early morning sunlight with a lightness in his step; he had a plan in motion, and he was ready to bide his time until it bore its fruit.

Chapter Text

Kaeya woke up quiet and still. He stared at the ceiling of his room, the wooden paneling almost as dark as the sky outside, and he waited for his lungs to start working again.

Cold, hard tiles underneath his knees, the deafening silence of the Cathedral wrapping him up, muffling him. He was a stray, a dog that begged for food and bit the hand as payment, and begged more still. The judgement and fury in Varka’s eyes and the deep frown his betrayal cut into Jean’s face was more than he ever deserved, and now the dog was finally getting put down. He did not need to look up to know the exact shade of red of his executioner’s hair.

He sat up in his bed before his mind could pull him back into the nightmare. A poor excuse of a sob escaped him, taking the last of his air with it. His fingers clawed at the bedsheet pooling in his lap, desperate to find something to ground himself with before the blood red tide dragged him back under. He breathed in at last, and focused on the smells coming with it. The gentle sweetness of calla lilies still not wilted on the windowsill, the tang of the coffee beans he purchased a week ago and still haven’t tasted yet, the ever-present musk of horses that’s not left him since he became Cavalry Captain, always sticking to his clothes. He counted the rectangles of light dawn was drawing onto the wall; six and six, for the two panels of his window. No need to even entertain the thought of sleep again, he would’ve been waking up soon anyways.

The echoes of his steps were the only things accompanying him on his way to the stables. This was a newfound routine of his; be tortured by the same nightmare night after night, then try and drown his worries in work during the day. He’d not seen Albedo since their… dispute . He was apparently on leave, as Jean mentioned, a rare thing to happen but precisely because of that, Varka saw no reason to deny it of him. Kaeya wasn’t sure what to make of it at first; he would’ve thought Albedo wanted to flee, had he had no reason to do so, seeing as he could’ve crushed the entire city in his palm if he so wished. Did he need to gather his thoughts? But what for? He was clearly in the know about Kaeya, it was not him who had to grapple with the ne ws after that night. Perhaps, a little voice in Kaeya’s head said, the alchemist was giving him space. But that thought implied more kindness than he was willing to believe Albedo possessed.

His morning was spent like it had been for the past three days; holed up at the Favonius stables, training one of the new horses. It was a lovely black stallion with adorably mismatched stockings on his back legs, and it was the perfect thing to take Kaeya’s mind off of whatever Albedo was planning. He knew people noticed his sudden change of schedule; Emma teased him about suddenly liking the company of horses more than the company of people, and Jean asked him if he needed a second hand for training, which he, of course, kindly refused. He hoped they just chalked it up to the time of year. Most of them were familiar with grief, after all.

The black stallion, who Karl named Zebra to everyone’s displeasure, was one of the most skittish horses Kaeya has ever had the displeasure of working with. Training him was a dreadfully slow process. Kaeya had spent the last four days getting him used to wearing a blanket, not even a bit yet, walking the stallion around the training rink in endless circles and figure eights. He expected this morning to go much the same.

What he did not expect was for the Chief Alchemist to walk into the training rink a few hours later, with little Klee holding his hand and chattering away about the latest adventures of Dodoco.

Something seized up inside of Kaeya the moment he saw Albedo. It made him want to run, to snarl, to hide in a cave until the monster passed by. Made him wish he had his sword on him, like a hopeful fool who thinks a single blade can down a dragon. He bit his tongue, just shy of drawing blood, and choked the urge with a smile.

“Big brother Kaeya!” Klee shrieked, and Kaeya had a split second to grab Zebra’s halter before he wanted to flee from the very loud and very red little girl.

“Hi Klee!” He readied himself for having to hold back a frightened horse from running. “Please, keep your voice down! You don’t want to spook the horses, do you now?”

“Oh no!” She clasped her hands over her mouth, and shook her head. Her pigtails flailed wildly, and Zebra jolted in Kaeya’s grasp.

Sweet Celestia , he thought. I’m gonna have a hurt horse like this .

Next to Klee, Albedo regarded him with an open, blank expression, only the way his eyes flicked over him and the horse betraying his curiosity. “Did we come at an inconvenient time? We can come back later.”

Zebra tugged against the rope harder, throwing his head high. Now, Kaeya had a better inkling at why horses didn’t like the alchemist. He started leading the stallion towards the stables, murmuring sweet nothings to him. He called over his shoulder in a quiet, even voice. “Give me a few minutes to sort this one out, then I’m all yours! We were about to wrap up soon anyways.”

He successfully made it into the stables without any incidents, but even the process of brushing down Zebra and giving him a few calming treats couldn’t stop his brain from turning. Why was Albedo here? There was no world in which Klee wasn’t an excuse. He wondered if she was also a safeguard, to keep things from escalating again; to protect Albedo from Kaeya, or for Albedo to reassure him that he had no ill intentions. He briefly entertained the idea of Albedo having Klee as a hostage, but not only was that a truly stupid idea to pull off in the  middle of the city, his affections towards the girl did seem genuine as well. Not to mention Alice. Kaeya had no doubt that her strange and incomprehensible magics far surpassed Albedo’s. If Klee came to any harm, her mother would not hesitate to erase the assailant from existence, leaving not a trace behind; all it would take is a snap of her finger.

Perhaps, he was here to maintain the civil collegial relationship. To act as if their fight never happened.

That thought made him bark out a laugh, spooking Zebra. Kaeya gave him an apologetic pet, and left the stall.

Regardless of if this was a ploy for Albedo to get more information out of him or not, Kaeya was very much solidified in his stance that he needed a lot more information about Albedo. He now knew that he did have a purpose in Mondstadt, one that he deemed very important. Kaeya had to figure out what it was; he couldn’t be certain about the danger Albedo posed until then.

He took one last deep breath in the safety of the stables before returning to the rink, and to the patiently waiting Chief Alchemist. He was currently whispering with Klee, who seemed to take being quiet very seriously, and even shielded her mouth from the direction of the stables. Kaeya noted how she wasn’t wearing her usual red coat, the late spring heat clearly getting to her, but she was still logging around that big backpack of hers that gave most Knights chills. She ran up to Kaeya the moment she spotted him exiting the building.

“Kaeya! ” She leaped into his arms, suddenly forgetting all about being quiet, giggling as he spun around with her. “You’re always so busy with work! I haven’t seen you in years! ”

“Ah, it’s only been a few weeks, Klee,” Kaeya chuckled, ignoring the bite of guilt in his chest. He has been rather unreachable for the past few weeks, which Klee was wont to notice with how much time she spent hanging around in the Favonius Headquarters.

She pouted at him as he placed her back on the ground. She was getting heavy . “But I missed you!”

Her pleading was always difficult to resist. Kaeya bent like a willow branch under verglas. “I’m sorry, Klee. I promise it won’t happen again.”

“Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise.”

What was another oath broken for him? He hooked his finger around Klee’s, taking the vow. Then he donned a polite, curious smile, and looked up at Albedo.

Seeing him standing in the midmorning sun, hair painted gold and skin almost blindingly pale, the alchemist felt a bit like a mirage, a trick of the light. He stood a little too still, hands limp by his side, blue eyes unblinking, squinting only ever so slightly in the sunshine. His neck was exposed, the yellow start below the bob of his throat unchanged, the smooth flesh unmarred by wound or scar. It seemed the fight really didn’t faze him at all.

Albedo examined him in return, no doubt noting the unusual plainness of his attire. Kaeya saw no reason to bring his frivolous clothes into the stables, where they would only get dust, spit, and horsehair on them; he only needed a shirt, thick trousers, and boots that would save his toes from getting crushed under a stray hoof. He could almost see the alchemist filing the details away, like the steps of some experiment.

Klee tugged on his sleeve, breaking Kaeya out of his stupor. “Big brother Kaeya, have you eaten breakfast yet?”

“What a curious question! It’s almost noon, do you think I haven’t?”

Klee blinked up at him with those shining red eyes of hers, a frown knitting her brows together. She glanced back at Albedo, then at Kaeya once again. “Uhm… Well, would you like to get second breakfast really quick?” Her confidence grew with every word. “There are muffins at the bakery, and they look really, really tasty!”

Oh, that made much more sense. Vying for a midday treat in such a clever way; Kaeya’s chest swelled with warmth from it. He tugged on one of Klee’s pigtails gently. “Mmm, I see. What do we say when we would like something?”

“Please! Pretty please?”

“Well, I can’t refuse such a polite request now, can I?” He did not, in fact, have anything for breakfast other than half of the apple he shared with Finch as greeting. Thinking back, he really didn’t have any dinner yesterday, either. “Let’s go get some of those muffins.”

Klee jumped up and down, immediately running to Albedo. “See, it worked! We’re getting treats!”

Albedo chuckled, and gently patted the little mastermind on the head. “Good job, Klee.” He glanced up at Kaeya, innocent as if he wasn’t connected to this little scheme in the slightest. “Mind if I join? Those muffins do sound delectable.”

Kaeya wouldn’t have minded if he never saw the alchemist ever again in his miserable life. He smiled cool and smooth, like rain-slicked tiles. “Not at all!”

He wondered if Albedo ever slipped and fell in his life.

Could his bones break? Did he even have any?

The walk to the bakery was peaceful, as much as anything could be peaceful with Klee around. She was twittering like a little bird, about Dodoco’s newest improvements, about the bomb she set off with Alice a few days ago, about the latest attack of the fearsome Dodoking that she had to defend against. Her feet barely touched the ground, jumping and skipping all the way, only anchored down by Albedo’s hand in hers.

The bakery was quiet as expected at this hour, the baker nursing a glass of vine out front, chair sat in the sunlight. She smiled as their group stopped.

“Captains! What a pleasure! I’ll be right behind the counter, pick at your leisure!”

“No need to rush,” Kaeya smiled, a spoonful of honey spread over apple pie. “Your goods are always superb, it’s always a challenge to choose!”

The baker just batted her hand at him, more out of principle than to mask the obvious preening.

Klee stood on her tippy toes, surveying her future bounty. “I want that muffin!” she demanded, while pointing at an almond and sunsettia sweet.

“No, Klee,” Albedo chided her, “ how do we say that nicely?”

“Ahem.” Klee put her hands together as if in prayer, and batted her eyelashes at Albedo. “I would like that muffin, pretty please!”

“Correct. Good job.”

The baker huddled behind the counter, scooping said muffin onto a plate with a grin. “Here you go sweetheart. Anything else for the gentlemen?”

Albedo’s eyes flitted over the display, a lost butterfly. “Yes. I’d like one caramel-cinnamon basket. And…” He hesitated. Kaeya held his breath, somehow taken aback by how… ordinary it was. The Chief Alchemist, khaenri’ahn genius and creature of unknown power, struggling to pick a sweet. It was absurd. It felt almost fake, like an over-the-top dream. “One of those vanilla custards.”

The baker placed them on a separate plate, then turned her questioning gaze to Kaeya.

The thought of a sugary, overly sweet pastry just made his stomach turn. But it was useful to be on good terms with the people. He put his finger to a folded pastry with cottage cheese and chives spilling out the sides of it. “This one will be perfect.”

Before he could pull the mora out of his pocket, Albedo already handed the coins over. “My treat.”

Kaeya raised his eyebrows. “How courteous.”

“It’s the least I can do after Klee used you as a bargaining chip to get sweets.”

“Makes me wonder if it was her idea after all! I see she isn’t the only one with a sweet tooth.”

Albedo glanced down at his plate. “As you said. The goods here are superb.” He eyed the crumbling pastry in Kaeya’s hand. “And you favour savory more.”

“Whatever strikes my fancy, really” he lied. It felt wrong to divulge even something so small as his taste in baked goods.

Albedo didn’t question it, or at least not outright. His expression remained carefully blank, like it usually was, the very thing that earned him a reputation of being cold and scary among the knights. Kaeya wasn’t sure if it was a mask or if he really felt that little. Except the more he watched, hiding behind the lazy excuse of this lunch that really only fooled the rest of the city, not the two of them, he noticed small things, tiny things. A crinkle in Albedo’s eye when he looked at Klee. A flutter of his eyelashes as he bit into soft, sweet vanilla filling. The very, very slow rise of his chest, how his fingers twitched sometimes as if they were holding a pencil or perhaps a brush. Meaningless details to some, perhaps, but Kaeya wasn’t picky with these crumbs, making sure to remember every single one.

Soon, all of their plates were empty, Kaeya’s stomach no longer threatening to growl. Klee was slipping into a sugary haze, slowly slumping forwards, threatening to fall face first onto the table. Albedo stood first.

“Klee,” he called gently. He reached his hand out to the girl when she blinked up at him slowly, half-asleep already. “Let’s head home. You should take a nap.”

“But I don’ wanna…” her words slurred together into a sleepy whine. “B’ broth’r Kaeya… No…”

Kaeya chuckled. “Unfortunately, big brother Kaeya has to go back to work now.” He stood as well, resisting the urge to stretch. “I’m sure Dodoco is eager for a nap as well!”

Klee grumbled while she slid off the chair. “No he isn’t...” She took Albedo’s hand without complaint, eyes drooping closed. She looked like she might fall asleep mid-walk.

“Looks like this is where we part ways,” Albedo said, and Kaeya felt like his voice was sticking onto him. He wanted to grab a knife and carve it off. “Thank you for indulging her.”

And you. “How could I not? She asked so politely.”

The alchemist chuckled. “She did.” He smiled then, so unbefitting of whatever creature he way. Kaeya didn’t know his face could even move like that. “Goodbye!”

“Barbatos be with you.”

They exchanged one last glance, as if neither of them could believe the words didn’t melt Kaeya’s tongue like acid. He wanted to say, see, I’m no traitor after all. You can leave now, and never return . Instead he smiled at the baker one last time, and turned on his heels. There was always paperwork he could occupy himself with in his office, and he desperately needed something to drown out the question bouncing around in his brain, what on earth Albedo wanted out of this .

The courtyard was loud from the ringing of steel hitting steel, annoyed and teasing shouts, the heavy breaths of exertion. The summer sun bore down on the practicing knights with a lazy fist, the wind drying up their sweat and easing the weight of the heat. 

Kaeya parried, feinted, and struck. Across him, Emma kept up with his pace, her blade a flash of silver in the morning light. They both had armour on, just as Varka instructed; training their endurance, he said. Some of his men grumbled about it, and while Kaeya shared a sympathetic grimace with them, he reminded them that conflict won’t spare them just because the weather is hot, and they needed to be able to handle the strain. Even the loudest ones to complain quieted when he offered to be their sparring partner for the day as compensation for the discomfort.

Emma signalled for a break, and they both lowered their sword. He followed her to the barrel of water off to the side, and clinked his cup against hers after she drew a drink for them both.

“Don’t tell me you’re tired already” he teased as she slumped against the shaded wall. Her only response was a roll of her eyes. “We just barely started!”

Emma downed her drink in one go, and reached for the ladle again. “It’s been an hour, Kaeya. Your lies are quite lacking today.”

“Maybe Varka told me to keep the practice going until sundown.”

“Yeah, sure.”

He snickered, and willed ice into his own cup. He couldn’t blame Emma for wanting to rest, the heat was starting to get to him as well. He was drenched in sweat underneath his chainmail, and every inch of his uncovered skin was sticky with dust. He planned on goading his men into a swimming competition in Cider Lake later.

He looked over the courtyard, and winced at some of the techniques he saw. There are certain ways a sword should never be held, and his men were dutifully trying out all of them.

“I see I have some work to do. Don’t drink all the water!” Emma grinned and drew herself a third drink as Kaeya stepped back out into the sun.

He was well aware that mounted combat and fighting on foot were two very different beasts, and made sure to give the few struggling knights some words of encouragement as he corrected their stance, their grip, or their moves. Most of his men knew enough to hold their own on just two feet, but his job was to make sure all of them did.

He was in the middle of showing a cadet the correct arc to use when striking someone’s shoulder, when Emma called out to him. “Captain!”

He guided the cadet’s arm into the correct position, his sword gently resting on his opponent’s shoulder. He waved a hand in Emma’s direction, but kept his attention on the young man. “Aim here, and imagine that you want to cleave through her. Shoulder to hip. Got it?” A nod, a swipe at sweaty brows. He clapped both knights on the shoulder, then turned to see what in the accursed heavens Emma could want from him.

It happened to be the accursed heavens themselves; or, more accurately, the coffin they nailed shut. Next to his second-in-command stood the pale form of the Chief Alchemist, clad in the regulatory Favonius armour, a simple sword hanging from his hip. He looked like he always did, unbothered by the heat, face blank and bored. In the shade he almost reminded Kaeya of a chalk drawing on a dark stone wall, realistic enough to spook any passerby at night. He wished he could avoid him even in the day.

He was early; Kaeya knew he left for Dragonspine a while ago, and planned to spend a month among the frigid cliffs. If the alchemist had kept to his schedule, Kaeya would’ve had another week of peace, seven more days to pretend everything was fine. He wondered what made Albedo break his beloved routine (because that was one thing Kaeya discovered; the man loved his routine), but the question itself was a lie. He had a very strong guess as to what brought him back early.

Albedo’s eyes found his, and his expression shifted. Kaeya wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t looking out for it; a slight rise of the brows, his large eyes growing even wider, the tiniest tilt of his chin. A quirk in his lips as he greeted the man.

“Sir Kaeya! I was told I am free to join the training if I wish to.” Albedo glanced at the panting knights. “I wasn’t aware the Cavalry also trained on foot.”

“Oh, are you looking to join? I’m afraid we couldn’t keep someone with your intellect on the back of a horse. Terribly sorry to disappoint.” Kaeya wondered if he could train Finch to bite Albedo. No, he would be found out too soon. And he didn’t want to make Finch have to taste whatever the man was either.

“No, I’m only here to spar. It’s good to practice.”

Kaeya crinkled his eye into a smile, like a sickle cutting through grass. “Can’t argue with that. Feel free to join the drills.”

“I was actually hoping to spar with someone.”

How convenient, that Kaeya was the only one without a pair. That Emma kept to her post by the water barrel, eyeing them curiously.  Luck, as it so often did, laughed in Kaeya’s face.

“Very well.” His insides felt frozen solid at the thought. But he was being watched; he couldn’t afford a crack on his mask. He stepped back out into the sun, not taking his eye off the Chief Alchemist, and drew his sword in one smooth, lazy motion. “Tell me when I need to go easy on you.”

As if.

Albedo followed him, sword resting in his hand as easily as a quill.

“Will do.”

He wondered if Albedo would kill him in front of all his men. He could try to disguise it as an accident, but even that would be risky with so many sneakily watching eyes. Maybe he wouldn’t care. Maybe he would kill them all. Make the ground swallow them whole.

Their first strikes were easy, just testing the waters. Gave plenty of time for Kaeya to ponder why on earth was Albedo even there, as if he needed any practice. To mock? To scare?

Strike, parry, feint. They moved away from the usual drills. Kaeya waited for Albedo’s attacks to grow stronger, or faster, not necessarily enough for the rest of the knights to notice, but enough for Kaeya to feel. He waited, and waited, and after ten minutes he realized with baffling clarity what was happening.

He was being pacified . He was being treated like a spooked horse, shown that what he thought was dangerous posed no actual threat. Albedo was deliberately pulling his punches to give him a sense of security .

The absolute gall . His muscle memory saved him from dropping his sword to his side in indignation, but he knew his face gave him away from the little spark in Albedo’s eyes. And that just would not do .

When he was young, he was often warned about the pitfalls of being too prideful, and he took the lessons to heart. He became cautious and canny and calculating, and it served him very well. But his growing number of accomplishments, the recognition he got for his work made the beats rare its head up again. And now it wanted to bite.

He was sure his grin looked more like a snarl. “I see you really are in need of practice.” 

He slashed, hard, and his blade rang loudly against Albedo’s. He struck again, and again, putting real force behind the attacks, the clashing of swords like bells in his ears. Albedo always blocked, but he was watching him more intently now, even if more curious than wary. Good , Kaeya thought.

He moved to stab again. His blade slipped, too hasty, too proud; Albedo moved in to take advantage of the mistake.

Except Kaeya long learned how to muzzle the beast. He twisted his sword, and were his opponent any other person, it would have torn their weapon out of their hand. Albedo’s wrist held fast, but he did lose his stance, and with a swift step Kaeya was in his back, the point of his blade resting against the nape of the alchemist’s neck. They both stilled, one breathing heavier than the other.

Albedo lifted his hands in surrender. Kaeya perhaps kept his blade up for a second too long, wanting to etch the warning into Albedo’s very bones. Pride purred pleasantly in his chest when the alchemist turned around and eyed him with a hint of wariness. Kaeya wanted to snarl at him, underestimate me again and I will kill you. Please, underestimate me again. Instead he flourished with his sword, and settled into the starting stance.

“Best of three?”

Albedo, of course, accepted. Except this time there was no condescension in his strikes. Kaeya had to weather the full extent of his measured, neat attacks, and had he not had years to practice parrying a flaming claymore, he would’ve been in trouble. He knew this wasn’t a real fight. If it was, whatever magics Albedo wielded would’ve killed him long ago, and he could’ve done his best to take at least a limb with him to the grave. Yet, it gave him confirmation that there were plenty of scenarios he could potentially force Albedo into in the future, where he could get the upper hand. The alchemist didn’t hold back, didn’t obscure his techniques; Kaey a memorized his style by the end of their second fight.

They agreed on a draw. All of the knights stopped to watch their sparring, and Kaeya had to yell at them to continue their drills before he made them repeat the whole practice. He was drenched in sweat, a stark difference to Albedo who was barely panting. To his displeasure, he felt like he could run a mile, ride to Dawn Vinery and back; his muscles were burning, but they were ready for more. He sheathed his sword, and returned to the water barrel.

“Was the practice satisfactory, Chief Alchemist?” He didn’t offer Albedo a cup.

“It was. I might just have to attend again.”

Kaeya might just have to resign then. “Careful what you wish for. I’m not sure you would like them very much.” 

Sometime during the fight, a strand of hair escaped Albedo’s braid. He was busy tucking it back into place. “Is that not a Captain’s job? To make sure their cadets attend?”

“But you’re not a cadet of mine, are you now?”

Albedo made a noise, something that sounded uncomfortably similar to laughter, but close enough to a scoff that Kaeya could swallow the lie comfortably. He didn’t want to think about how much the alchemist behaved like an ordinary mondstadter.

He was saved from having to make more small talk by Timaeus, who dragged Albedo away to supervise one of his newest experiments.

There was a voice in his head, as he watched Albedo disappear behind the corner. It sang a song about a small round bun that avoided the stomach of wolves and bears, but fell for the praises of the fox, and climbed into its waiting, hungry mouth willingly. He hoped, desperately, that he would be clever enough to avoid the teeth.

Chapter Text

Albedo had to accept that he miscalculated.

His lab on Dragonspine was frigid as ever, the frost unyielding even under the summer sun. The howling wind outside of the cave mixed in with the quiet murmurs of alchemy equipment, of liquids boiling, burners crackling. He was hunched over a desk pushed against the deepest wall of the cave where he kept all his paperwork, in the spot most shielded from the wind. The mostly empty parchment on the table seemed to taunt him.

When he made his plans to gather information from Captain Kaeya, he estimated it would take a month, perhaps two to get the man talking. Even if just to get some basic intel out of him that could’ve served as new leads for Albedo to track. He’d assumed that the man would either warm up to him, or get agitated enough to reveal secrets on accident, but, to his annoyance, Kaeya kept a very consistent distance.  For the past two months, every time Albedo tried to get him to talk, it felt like he was pulling teeth. Nonexistent teeth, to be precise.

He was disappointed. Impatient. The feeling reminded him of the times he snacked on blackthorn berries; it pulled the inside of his mouth taut, and made his tongue curl against his teeth, hard enough to be painful. But, this wasn’t the first time his experiment didn’t yield the results he wanted. He simply needed to reassess the situation.

He doodled a cecilia onto the margin while he looked over his list again. He still had pitifully few clues about Kaeya, but he did at least find a handful of new ones. His supposed sumerian heritage, coupled with the fact that he came to Mondstadt when he was around ten years old was a promising, if thin thread of clues. Albedo also noted that he regularly went on late night patrols on his own, but not even his own men knew what he exactly did on those occasions. Some cityfolk said he was a reliable Captain, some said he was a slacker but good company. Seemingly all of Mondstadt knew him, and even the people living in Springvale; he knew everyone, kept good relations with everyone.

It made Albedo wonder. How much of it was fake? How many times did Kaeya put on a false smile just to keep good graces? This kind of social game was never Albedo’s forte. It could’ve been blamed on the fact that he spent four centuries in the company of just one person. As much as he didn’t want to think ill of Master, it was undoubtedly true that the past four years he spent in Mondstadt improved his socializing skills more than his time with Gold did.

Sometimes, after spending weeks alone in his Dragonspine lab, he would turn around to share a discovery with her. Look, this cryo whopperflower nectar is inflicting the same type of frost on this mint as the climate here does. This could mean the cause of this weather is magical in nature. But the words would only find empty air in her place. He didn’t miss her. This wasn’t the first time they spent years apart.

He wished he had asked more about Khaenri’ah. She never shared on her own, and Albedo thought it wasn’t relevant; not for their research, anyways. He was curious, but his questions were only answered in those early days, when Master still looked at him like she was waiting for him to collapse into a pile of dirty chalk. Later, she always said that Khaenri’ah was a chapter closed, a research topic she exhausted herself and had no reason to linger on when the rest of Teyvat was still full of mysteries, and the world beyond was still unexplored. He never searched out the information on his own.

Maybe he should have.

The lab was slowly filled up with dim, orange light, the remnants of sunset that managed to break past the thick clouds. Albedo checked on the samples bubbling away in their respective alembics and bulbs. He will give Kaeya a year, he decided. Surely, a year will be enough.

Two days later, he left Dragonspine. His other reason to visit, that had nothing to do with a man who had no reason to exist, was to examine the windstorm blocking the way up to the peak more closely. Many parts of the mountain were difficult to reach, either because of strange barriers of wind, or because of the sheer cold of the area. He hypothesised that the summer heat coming from Mondstadt and Liyue could affect the wind barrier; ideally, lessen it, but Albedo was open to any form of change. If its origins weren’t divine in nature, he would’ve had an easier time figuring out a way past.

Unfortunately, not only was the barrier unaffected by the heat, but the entirety of Dragonspine’s climate as well. Albedo had barometers set up around the mountain, he measured the temperature and observed the cloud coverage, and concluded that the weather of the neighbouring regions had no effect whatsoever on the mountain. He had to file the question of the barrier away into the section of his research he knew the least about; anything originating from Celestia.

Disappointing, but nothing new. Research was never seamless.

Midsummer heat greeted him the moment he set foot outside of the icy cliffs. He still felt the chill of the mountain at his back, but the sensation lessened with every step he took towards the Adventurers’ camp. He recalled that the weather would get even hotter in the coming weeks, and made a mental note to take Klee fish-blasting soon, before she would get stuck inside, hiding away from the heat.

He would have to stay inside as well. Not because he minded the heat, but to avoid the questions people were bound to have about his ability to withstand it. This was another thing he had to learn to hide when he came to Mondstadt. The locals often asked, how did he bear to stay on that freezing mountain for weeks, how did he not wilt in the late summer heatwaves? All he could do was shrug, say it’s not as bad as it seems. Say it runs in the family; the strangest excuse he’s ever had to utter. It seemed to work, though; definitely a better answer than saying he was brewed up in a bottle like a witch’s potion.

He took his time walking through the shaded groves of Galesong Hill, slowly descending amongst the hills towards Windrise. Everything was lush and green, not overgrown like the rainforests in Sumeru, but not sparse and dry like the highlands in Natlan either. Some shrubs were already bearing fruit, some were only now beginning to bloom , painting the undergrowth with flecks of colour. Albedo gazed up at the leaves above him, some stained yellow with sunlight.

He should come out here and paint sometime.

Eventually, the trees gave way to the wide open plain of Windrise, the great oak in its center standing proud and tall as ever. Wind sneaked into Albedo’s hair, humming in his ear. A song he didn’t recognize, and couldn’t quite catch when he tried to listen.

That’s when he noticed something. Movement; from behind the great oak, across the stream. A horse. Someone riding it. Albedo didn’t have time to guess who; sunlight shone onto dark blue locks and brown fur, man and horse gliding across the grass like seafoam rides the ocean waves. They were too far away for Albedo to be able to make out any details just yet, but he found that he didn’t mind. 

His thoughts started to wander. He imagined how he would paint this scene, if he had his supplies on hand. Warm golden green, with a speck of prussian blue for the Cavalry Captain. Should he keep the oak in frame? No, better not to.

He watched as the pair got closer, galloping towards where the cliffs of Galesong Hill started to emerge from the plain. They moved along a lazy curve, perhaps wanting to get the most out of the open space, slowly approaching the place where Albedo stood. He heard laughter, and suddenly realized that Kaeya was smiling, grinning from ear to ear, like Albedo has never seen before.

And then, Kaeya noticed him. His posture shifted and his horse slowed down ever so slightly, and he was just close enough that Albedo could meet his eye, see his smile turn into something strange, something annoyed, but something gleeful still. A grimace Albedo had not seen before, didn’t have the chance to dissect in his lab and catalog it.

He expected the man to ignore him, ride past and not engage. But Kaeya leaned forward, and seemed to whisper something into his horse’s ear; the next moment, they were speeding up the first slopes of the hills, towards the road Albedo stood on.

Why? Albedo couldn’t quite believe what was happening. After two months of cold avoidance, Kaeya would approach him willingly? It made no sense. But there was little point in denying it. So, he waited, his curiosity growing with every passing second.

When he next appeared, Kaeya had slowed down to a trot, and then to a walk when he reached Albedo. His hair was messy, windswept blue strands framing his handsome face where they escaped from his ponytail. He was dressed down, likely because of the heat, foregoing his blue cape and only wearing that shirt that always left the smooth, brown skin of his chest exposed. His horse didn’t sport any usual Favonius gear either, only what was - to Albedo’s admittedly limited knowledge - the bare minimum for riding.

Kaeya grinned at him, his smile not reaching his eye.

“Chief Alchemist! What are the odds of meeting you out here, on this fine day?” He didn’t stop his horse, instead he circled Albedo once, twice. He was a little out of breath, but far from looking tired. “Got bored of the cold?”

“Captain Kaeya,” Albedo greeted him as well. He stayed still, not wanting to upset the horse too much. “Can’t say I was expecting this meeting either. And no, the cold was fine. I just decided to return to the projects I have in the Favonius laboratory.”

“Pursuing knowledge as always. I did always wonder what you were up to on that awful mountain of yours.”

“Many things. Are you familiar with the theory of Divine Interference?”

Kaeya raised a brow, and his horse came to a stop in front of Albedo. He patted its neck absentmindedly. “Sounds awfully blasphemous. Maybe you shouldn’t share.” But the tilt of his chin, the strange, small spark in his eye said otherwise. He didn’t stall the conversation with smalltalk, didn’t hide behind his usual cold politeness. There was still something in the set of his shoulders and the corner of his mouth that felt like a warning to Albedo, but it was nowhere near as biting as he came to expect it.

“It’s science,” he said. “ Asking questions has no morality.”

“You sound like a student of the Akademiya. I can’t imagine a better place to pry at the seams of the world than there.”

Albedo shrugged. “Their scope is different from mine. And I can’t be bothered to comply with their bureaucracy.”

“And yet, here you are, a Knight of Favonius. Out of the pot, into the fire.”

“Oh, the Knights cannot compare.”

Kaeya huffed at that, mumbling something about Sumeru getting buried under mountains of paperwork. He did something to make his horse turn, freeing up the path in front of Albedo. An invitation? “Do not let Frederica hear that. She’ll make us do twice as much work if she does!” His eye was almost the exact shade of blue as the sky behind him, as he looked at Albedo. “So, do you have any other damning science projects in the works? Or are you not much of a multitasker?”

They fell into step next to each other. “Define damning.”

A laugh, bitter as the seed of a grape. “I can’t imagine why you would research things on Dragonspine. Your laboratory in Headquarters must be better equipped than… wherever your mountain lab is.”

This was strange. Two months of static wariness suddenly turned into an actual conversation; Albedo’s mind raced, trying to figure out what changed. What could’ve happened to make Kaeya give up his distance?

He decided that continuing the conversation was his best chance at finding the answer.

“Some experiments are riskier than others, and I do not wish to put my students in danger. There are also concepts and topics that are too advanced for them. It’s easier to study those on my own.”

“Like this theory of Divine Interference?”

“Precisely.”

They walked past a crumbling archway, its familiar geometric carvings drawing both of their attention for a moment. Kaeya turned away first.

“Well, now you’ve got me curious! What exactly is this theory of yours?”

Albedo looked up at the man, but he busied himself with picking sticklewort seeds out of his horse’s mane. After a moment of silence, Kaeya glanced at him with a raised brow. “Is it perhaps some forbidden knowledge that you’re being so quiet about it?”

“No.” Albedo looked away. “It states that divine magic, like the power of a vision or an Archon, is different from naturally occurring magic. The power a youkai or an adeptus wields, for example, is an innate talent, while visions and the Archons’ seats are artificial powers. This explains why using these powers often has long lasting effects on the environment; nature simply doesn’t have the tools to effectively restore the damage.” He waved a hand in the air, pointing west. “Decarabian’s Lair is a good example. No one can explain why it’s still surrounded by that never-ending storm.”

“But Decarabian wasn’t an Archon.”

“Yes. Divine Interference is an intriguing theory, but I find it has too many holes. Trying to draw a line that separates an Archon’s powers to innate magic and the power of their seat is incredibly difficult, if not impossible. But the theory can help determine the origins of various unusual natural phenomena.”

A cloud passed over them, its shadow muting the vibrancy of summer. Albedo looked at Kaeya, and found him already looking back, that quiet coldness present in his gaze again. It lasted only a moment, a moment Albedo thought was measured deliberately, before Kaeya’s lips stretched into one of his many smiles.

“How interesting. I guess Varka was right to keep you around after all!”

The alchemist wanted to see how long that smile that never looked quite right could last. If it would melt like wax or shatter like glass. “Were you doubting my capability this far?”

“No, no, of course not. I would never doubt the Grand Master’s judgement.”

They passed the old ruins of the Temple of the Falcon. The large, white blades of the city windmills waved at them over the horizon, the statue of Barbatos reaching its cupped hands in their direction.

Albedo decided it was time to ask his own questions. This was supposed to be an exchange of information, after all.

“Is there a reason you were out riding?”

Kaeya glanced at him, shoulders drawn ever so slightly higher.

“There is always a reason.”

“But you won't tell me.”

“Why wouldn't I?”

“You aren't.”

He laughed at that.This was the most Albedo has heard him laugh; although, the most time he ever spent in his company, too. Kaeya stared at the horizon for a moment, seemingly mulling over his answer. His words came out more honest than Albedo expected them to. “Perhaps I just felt like it.” A single periwinkle eye found his. “Why, did you think I was waiting for you?”

“You couldn’t have known I was coming.”

“Indeed. But that doesn’t answer my question, does it?”

Albedo was surprised he didn’t notice it earlier. Kaeya twisted his sentences in a way that the alchemist felt compelled to always answer, to always explain, so he wouldn’t feel him pry. But he was prying.

Strangely enough, he didn’t really mind it.

“I’m just surprised,” he admitted. “I didn’t expect you to walk with me.”

Perhaps it was his honesty that startled Kaeya. Or maybe the fact that he addressed the unspoken avoidance. His only reaction was a huff and a twitch of his lips before he averted his eyes, choosing to stare at the path ahead of them instead. Albedo noted the tiniest frown on his face, only betrayed by a faint wrinkle between his brows, and how his fingers closed more tightly around the reins. He shifted a little in the saddle, and Albedo wouldn’t have been surprised if he rode off. But he didn’t.

They didn’t speak anymore until they crossed the city gates, where, after a polite goodbye, they went their separate ways. Albedo spared a single glance at the retreating form of the Cavalry Captain, as he rode towards the favonius stables. Just like many of their other chats, he barely got anything new out of the man, and he was still confused as to what brought this sudden change of heart in the first place.

He didn’t wait until Kaeya’s form disappeared between the houses. He turned, heading towards Alice’s as he usually did after returning from Dragonspine. His thoughts still raced, dissecting every bit of his walk with Kaeya, but he was… He wasn’t hopeful. No, he was merely content. The kind of content a scientist is when they knew their research was on track.

He reminded himself why he was in Mondstadt in the first place; the daunting task his Master left him. But even the thought that he was set up for failure couldn’t suppress his smile.

Chapter Text

Kaeya knew he made a mistake. He cursed himself less for making it and more for not being smart about it, because, really, he’s made enough of them in his lifetime to at least have practice. To prepare for the fallout.

When he was out with Finch two weeks ago and bumped into the Chief Alchemist, he barely thought twice about approaching him. He felt bold, felt like taking a risk, felt like breaking this stalemate of theirs, and didn’t think about how it would encourage Albedo. But encourage him it did, and Kaeya had been weathering the consequences for weeks now, with no clue how to fix the situation and go back to their comfortable, ten-foot distance.

It’s not even that Albedo was all that much friendlier. He was just more constant. Seeked out Kaeya in his office, found him in the library, crossed paths with him in the city square. It was a difficult dance, trying to keep his distance from the alchemist but still maintain his friendly reputation. The public knew no reason for him to have a problem with Sir Albedo, so he couldn’t let them think that he did.

The heatwave that came like clockwork around this time of the year didn’t help either. Some afternoons, when he couldn’t push the Cavalry training after sunset and had to hold it after lunch, he fantasized about peeling his skin off and jumping into Cider Lake, and never coming back, instead staying at the bottom like a rock, in the lovely cold. This time of year always made him snappy and sharp, forgoing the honey he usually coated his jabs in, and people knew that. Every Knight was used to it, and he did his best to cope. But sometimes, he woke up thinking about what foul experiment Albedo could be working on. Sometimes, he turned onto the hallway in front of Varka’s office and wondered if a knife to the heart would kill the alchemist. More often than he cared to admit, when he spotted a fleck of blonde hair in the city square, he kept it in his sight until he made sure it was not him . Albedo was taking up more and more of his thoughts every waking hour, and Kaeya started to wish that he could carve away those parts of his brain along with his skin too.

“If you keep scowling like that, I will have to kick you out before you make the books go sour.”

Kaeya glared – not scowled – at Lisa. “That’s not a very nice thing to say to someone who’s currently helping you out.” He placed the tall stack of books down on its designated table for further sorting. “Is this what I deserve in return for being such a good friend?

The witch smiled at him, tooth-rottingly sweet. “Do you think carrying a few books around is all a friendship needs? And here I thought you were a smart boy.”

It seemed it was yet another mistake, thinking that spending his day helping Lisa rearrange the library would be better than hunting Treasure Hoarders in the heat, or letting himself go crazy because of one particularly pale Knight. Maybe getting drenched in his own sweat in the burning sun would’ve been more pleasant after all.

“You have funny ideas about what ‘a few’ means” he retorted, but he was already turning on his heel to grab the next stack of tomes. Some recent purchases, a generous donation from someone’s dead grandmother, and the unfortunate case of a molding shelf was the cause of his suffering; and, of course, his own foolishness for volunteering when Lisa asked for help. He thought it was time to let Emma lead a full Cavalry mission on her own, so he had the free time anyways. Oh, hindsight.

At least the library was cool. The perks of being situated in the basement level.

He was grabbing the last stack of books when he heard someone enter the library. Jean , he noted, when he heard her voice. She immediately started chatting with Lisa, and Kaeya was tempted to stay downstairs for a bit longer just to let them have their moment. Not to interrupt at the most embarrassing moment, of course. Doing such a thing was for scoundrels and failures. 

The thought of making Jean blush and squeak was a tempting one, but he decided against deliberately furthering his nasty streak. He was unpleasant enough in this weather as is.

“Kaeya!” she smiled as he ascended the stairs, much more kindly than Lisa did a few minutes ago. “I was looking for you.”

The heat was taking a toll on her, too; hair frizzy, capelet nowhere to be found. An unprofessional look she never allowed herself, yet she could only run so far from it in this weather. Kaeya admired her for being put together enough to keep her shirt buttoned up to her chin.

“I wasn’t aware I was this popular. Should I be honoured, or worried?”

She chuckled. “Maybe both. Varka wants you in his office. I think he has a new mission for you.”

That sounded both exciting and dreadful. “And rid poor Lisa of her helper? How cruel. I thought better of you, Jean.”

“Don’t worry, I will take over your place.”

And there it was, his opportunity. Scoundrels and failures got their way in the end, it seemed. “Lucky her, then. I’m sure she will enjoy your company a lot more than mine.”

His smile was the exact same sickly sweet as Lisa’s as he watched Jean try and disagree, humble as she was. Before she could get a whole sentence out, Lisa cut her off. “No, no, he’s right, for once.” She smiled at Jean, wide and suggestive. “I much prefer spending time with my new little helper here.”

Tomatoes don’t get as red as Jean did. She stuttered something about how that wasn’t true and how Lisa shouldn’t say things like that to begin with. Kaeya didn’t stay to listen. Varka wasn’t someone he liked making wait.

If he had doubts about this mission being exciting or dreadful before, the moment he set foot in the Grand Master’s office and saw the unruly mop of blonde hair, he knew it would be the latter. And were he less proud of a man, he would’ve ran back to help out in the library.

The looming, cloud-covered shape of Dragonspine was familiar to every mondstadter, but even more so to Kaeya. He spent half his life by it. It always peeked over the horizon at Dawn Vinery, and even in summer the creekwater running past the estate stayed frigid. Every winter, the freezing winds pouring off of the mountain would rush past the manor, howling deep into the night, rattling the windows so hard that Crepus had to attach a thicker shutter to his and Diluc’s window so that the noise wouldn’t wake him up. Even as a cavalryman, and later as Captain, he was often sent on missions to Dragonspine. Some monsters could take the cold and retreat into the snow, and some criminals thought the mountain would be their best escape route to Liyue. He was familiar enough with the outskirts, and experienced the abysmally low temperature enough times to know his limits. If push came to shove, spending some time on the snowy slopes probably wouldn’t have killed him.

Still, having Albedo by his side as the cloud covered cliffs came into view made him think he will not be leaving the mountain alive this time.

I found some surface ruins on Dragonspine that appear to have been used by Treasure Hoarders recently, Albedo said during the meeting. He wanted to have someone else with him when he searched them, since it wasn’t the usual business of his Company. There were only a few people amongst the Knights who were experienced enough to spend an extended amount of time higher up on the mountain, and of course, Kaeya was the only one available.

Not that he planned on dismissing the request. It might’ve been his first thought, but he immediately realized that regardless if it was a trap or not, this mission was an excellent opportunity to learn more about Albedo. And to escape the hellish summer weather.

They were arriving on foot – more manouverable , he quipped earlier, and regretted it immediately when Albedo looked at him a little too long afterwards – bags full and heavy. He sweated like a pig the whole way, but refused to complain in front of the alchemist. It was a little colder at the Guild’s campsite, but the real respite only came when the sun set and they settled down for the night.

The camp was still quiet when they packed up in the morning. The thick woolen sweater, the lined coat and the fur collar all slotted into place around Kaeya like pieces of an undesirable puzzle. Even with the mountain close by, he felt like he might catch on fire any moment, but knew in a few minutes he would be thankful for every last layer. Next to him, Albedo shrugged on his silly excuse of a coat that most people wouldn’t have worn into the latter half of autumn, let alone to a Dragonspine expedition. It was amusing, in a way; the stupidest excuse Kaeya has ever seen, and yet it worked. It felt a little bit like a slap in the face.

The alchemist grabbed the last piece of his mountain-appropriate attire, his scarf. Kaeya was used to the yellow cloth, and had to look twice when he saw it was red this time. Albedo wrapped it around his neck with the slightest bit of hesitation, and now, that was the most curious thing Kaeya saw on this mission so far.

“Lovely scarf you have there” he drawled, leaning against the piece of ruin they were packing at. “A new look for the season?”

Albedo, strangely enough, didn’t look at him. By now Kaeya was used to his attention always being on him, those large teal eyes always finding his. But now, Albedo stared off into the middle distance, his fingers folding the corner of the scarf into little rectangles.

He was awfully quiet the day before, too, on their walk up to the campsite. Kaeya expected him to try and chatter away the silence, but instead he appeared to be soaking in it. It seemed it wasn’t just moodiness after all.

“It’s a gift,” Albedo said after a moment. “From Alice.”

Kaeya really could’ve deduced that himself. Alice was famous for only ever gifting red things.

“How lovely.”

The alchemist hummed, almost quiet enough for the wind to swallow it up. Then he blinked – Kaeya started to notice how he didn’t do that as often as he should’ve –, and slung his bag over his shoulder, as if that was all it took to get rid of unwanted emotions. Blink, and it’s gone. Oh, how he wished the world worked like that.

The man looked up at Kaeya, face empty as usual. “Ready to go?”

“Totally.” He never wrote that will. “Let’s go.”

Frigid wind slapped into Kaeya’s face as they descended the hill. Snow dusted the grass and the rocks, and it looked like the clouds grew thicker with every step. By the time they reached the creek running around the foot of the mountain, his eye was aching and every breath burned his nose. Even with the overcast weather, the snow was blindingly white.

He thrust his hand out before Albedo could say a word, freezing the water over in front of them. The sensation of prickling cold travelled up from his fingers and disappeared somewhere above his elbow, but it was at least the familiar type of chill that he’s long grown used to. He stepped to the side, gesturing at the other with a smile. It was almost as cutting as the cold. “After you.”

Albedo stepped onto the ice without a word. It nagged at Kaeya, like a splinter stuck into his thumb, the pain easy enough to ignore but begging to be fiddled with. And Kaeya was always one to pick at scabs.

“How is it to live in the great Mage Alice’s home? Klee says the house is quite full, but she never really describes what’s actually inside, other than it’s all Dodoco’s! ” His impression of Klee left much to be desired, but he thought he at least nailed the intonation. “Rumors say she has portals leading to the farthest corners of Teyvat, and some even to other worlds. Sounds terribly un-childsafe to me, but…”

“I’ve not seen any,” the alchemist said after a moment. “I doubt she does. She doesn’t need them.” And there it was, a shadow of a frown on that pretty face. Some might not even have noticed it, but Kaeya had learned that even the subtlest twitches spoke volumes of the man’s feelings. Albedo stayed quiet for a few more moments, brows furrowing and the corner of his lip slowly dropping, until he looked at Kaeya, and his face settled into the calmness of a decision made. He let a breath out, and it didn’t fog. “She left.”

That in itself could not have been the reason for what Kaeya finally identified on Albedo’s features as distress. Alice travelled a lot, always had, often leaving Klee behind to be babysat at Headquarters for a few months. A thought crossed Kaeya’s mind, tasting of acid and rot, that maybe Albedo meant she’s dead , but he quickly dismissed it. He would’ve heard.

It was snowing, he could feel some of it settle on top of his eyepatch and on his heart. He brushed it off. “Is that surprising? Frankly, I was wondering when she would be off again; she rarely stays in one place this long.”

“No, she’s…” It was disturbing, how human Albedo looked when sad. Kaeya tried to catch his tells, to make sure it was just an act he was putting on because it felt appropriate, but it all looked terribly, awfully genuine. He still wasn’t sure if Albedo wasn’t just a ruin machine dressed in skin, but this display of genuine emotion made it hard to stick to that theory. He felt like a snowflake, slowly, unwillingly melting next to a campfire. “She’s left to work on her travel guide. She won’t be back for a few years.”

Kaeya was practiced at avoiding mirrors and ignoring his reflection, and so he did his best to ignore how familiar that sadness in Albedo’s voice sounded. He long learned to ignore the splinter stuck underneath his skin, live with the hurt and avoid using that finger too much, but he still noticed the red of inflammation on the other’s hand. He didn’t want to. Archons above, he didn’t want to.

But he did, the failure that he was. And he offered a handful of ice wrapped in cloth.

“She has Klee to come back to.” He looked away from Albedo, scared he might fail some more if he doesn’t. “She says she’ll be back in a few years, but I doubt she could resist visiting sooner than that. We both know one can only say no to Klee for so long!”

There was only a hum in response, and Kaeya didn’t want to look, to see if he managed to ease some of Albedo’s worries. He didn’t want to know if someone got the comfort he never did, after his birth father squeezed his hand one last time, after his right eye was almost blinded with fire. So he stared ahead, into the flurry of snow, and decidedly, definitely not at the alchemist walking beside him.

It was difficult to see more than fifteen steps ahead of them, but according to Albedo they just needed to keep following the creek to the south until they found the ruins. The wind howled louder and louder with every passing minute, soon drowning out the crunching of snow under their feet. Kaeya kept the hand not on the hilt of his sword stuffed into his pocket, the cold eating through his gloves. His torso was still warm, but he could feel the freezing air creeping through his trousers with every gust of wind. He estimated he would need to crack a warming bottle open within the hour.

Albedo didn’t seem fazed by the cold. Snow and ice caked onto his hair and clothes, the flakes getting stuck on his eyebrows and lashes, but his skin stayed pale, no redness from frostbite present. At one point, he stepped to the front, and led them up onto a faint trail that Kaeya couldn’t even see underneath the snow. 

They curved around a cliff. Shaded by the wind, visibility was a little better, and Kaeya spotted something ahead.

“Fire.” It came out more as a mumble than a word. He pulled a grimace, trying to warm his numb cheeks up. “Is this your ruin?”

“Yes.“ Albedo unsheathed his sword. “I think there are hilichurls. We’re gonna have to be quick.”

Swords drawn, they sneaked closer. Soon, Kaeya could take out the shapes of a crumbling arch and a collapsed wall, and heard the familiar chanting. He tried to understand it once, when he was still young, but his guilt quickly made him change his mind. Now, a quick death was the best thing he could offer. 

“Let’s split up. I’ll get in their back.”

“The ruins go down to the edge of the water. It’s precarious to get around it.”

“I’ll manage.”

Kaeya kept his ears pricked for the sound of movement or wood splintering under steel. He was a ghost sneaking through the snowstorm, here to haunt the undying with his fresh, warm blood. The wind made him stumble when he reached the edge of the creek, and he muttered a curse as he ducked back behind the stone pillar. The last thing he wanted was to fall in the water. He likely wouldn’t be able to get out.

There was a lip just above the waterline that he could use to get around without being noticed. He skirted along it, fingers gripping the sides of the pillar until it hurt, his entire body squeezed up against the stone to escape the pull of the wind. He allowed himself the briefest moment of relief when he reached the other side.

Snow pelted his face, thunder rumbled amidst the clouds. He could only take a handful of steps on the shore before he realized that he was relieved to soon.

The frostarm lawachurl that was crouching in front of him stared him down for a second, for two, before it raised its large fists, jagged with ice, and let out an earthshaking roar. Behind it, Kaeya could see the flames of the campfire. Only a couple of feet away, yet so far out of his reach. He hoped Albedo would finish off the rest of the hilichurls before Kaeya became a pile of frozen, pulped meat.

The lawachurl braced itself and rushed him. He dodged, counting his options. He could try to get up to the campsite and use the lawachurl’s large, sweeping strikes against the rest of the hilichurls, but he, too, would be surrounded. Killing the lawachurl was also an option, but it would take a lot of time to hack all the ice off of its fur and actually wound it, and his vision would not be of use. What’s more, it would take one, maybe two hits from the lawachurl and he would be dead.

He could also bide his time and wait for Albedo to – however much it pained him to think about it – save him.

He heard a crash from the campsite, and the alarmed yells of the hilichurls. The lawachurl lunged at him again, ice bursting in the trail of its fist. Kaeya slashed at its hide once before darting between two trees, narrowly avoiding an undoubtedly bonebreaking punch. Two more swipes, and he was forced back towards the creek, jumping away from the icicles bursting underneath his feet. He ducked and dashed, dancing around the lawachurl in a wide circle. The cold air burned his throat and lungs with every breath. He shot a quick glance towards the camp, relieved at the sight of yellow crystals flying in the air.

That was his first mistake. He saw the lawachurl rear up from the corner of his eye, and he was ready to jump out of the way, but he wasn’t paying attention to his footing. He slipped. The lawachurl’s fist slammed into the ground next to him and not into his chest, but the large shards of ice coating its hand sliced deep into his right shoulder, and down his arm. He cried out, his sword slipping from his grasp. 

The force of the strike pushed him down into the snow. The breath left his lungs as he hit the ground, snow spraying everywhere around him. The lawachurl raised its fist again.

He thrust his left hand out, shooting ice into the lawachurls face. It gave him enough time to scramble onto his feet, and snatch his sword from the ground as he darted behind the lawachurl. He heard Albedo’s voice, but couldn’t make out his words. He couldn’t care less. Heat pulsed down his right arm, followed by the rush of burning frost as his blood froze onto his skin. Good , he thought, and slapped his good hand over the gash, summoning more ice underneath his palm. It bit into his skin mercilessly, but in a heartbeat’s time his wound was sealed. He had to get to a safe, warm space soon, but he could handle the cold as long as his blood stayed where it belonged; inside him.

He skirted around the lawachurl, gritting his teeth through the pain shooting up his entire right side. He was about to try slicing some more of the lawachurl’s ice armour off when a burst of yellow light knocked it off its feet. Behind it, on the ledge of the ruins stood Albedo, not a single hair out of place. Another burst of crystals, and the lawachurl howled in pain, and then Albedo was on its back, sinking his sword hilt-deep into its body, quieting it once and for all. 

There was a moment of heavy, still silence. The alchemist glanced at the blood smeared on the ground, on the corpse’s fist, on Kaeya’s body.

“I’m fine,” Kaeya gasped, sword still aimed at the lawachurl, ready for the slightest twitch. “You got rid of all of them?”

Albedo didn’t look like he believed him. Still, he didn’t ask. “Yes. I need you to look at something.”

Kaeya followed him, not mentioning how this place was not at all like what Albedo described it as back in Varka’s office. He had little energy to state the obvious. Albedo led him up to the remains of the campsite, stepping around the already rigid bodies of hilichurls, and stopped in front of a slab of stone.

On closer inspection, it looked like a tombstone. Or a memorial. There were words carved into it, but Kaeya couldn’t make out what they said.

Albedo gestured at the stone. “Can you read it?”

In the gloomy greyness and with snow flying in his face? No. “Light that fire, please.”

The alchemist sparked some flames in the makeshift brazier impressively quickly. There were three lit now, keeping a small fire alive even in the snowstorm, a fourth one extinguished. They brought the tiniest flickers of warmth with them, that mostly just made Kaeya worry for the ice plugging his wounds. He leaned closer to the stone slab.

The script resembled khaenri’ahn. Some letters looked the same, some were slightly altered, and some completely different. The words looked off, though; he barely understood a handful 

of them. Something about needing something, and about a painting being finished.

“I can make out a few words, but… Nothing substantial.” He straightened, and looked for Albedo. “Is this why you wanted me on this mission? Mission , hah, what a joke…”

The alchemist was busy lighting a fire in the fourth brazier, for archons know what reason. Kaeya hoped he did actually have a laboratory on Dragonspine, and wasn’t planning on camping out here .

Flames licked across the embers in the brazier. Albedo dusted the ash off his gloves. “Yes, I was hoping you might have some more insights on what it says. But it’s fine. I do have-” his words passed by Kaeya’s ears. He saw movement in the corner of his eye, from behind the stone slate, and for a moment he thought the lawachurl somehow survived Albedo. But instead of the lawachurl, a strange mechanism floated into the air. It pointed its triangular face at Kaeya. The center of it started to glow. 

“Albedo…”

“- a copy of the script at my lab, and the books I used to translate it, so…”

The mechanism fired. Kaeya jumped out of the beam’s way just in time, his stomach sinking as he saw the deep, scorched groove it left in the stone. He wanted to yell at Albedo and ask what the everloving fuck that thing was, but the words froze into his throat when he saw just how wide the alchemist’s eyes were at the sight of the machine.

In that moment, he was sure. They were going to die.

“Run!” Albedo yelled, and dashed past him, up the snowy slope curving around the cliffside. Kaeya didn’t waste a second following him. There was a strange buzzing noise behind him, almost like a hum, and as he glanced back, he saw the machine powering up again. Its center was glowing brighter and brighter, until it was too bright to look at.

“ Watch out! ” He dragged Albedo out of the beam’s way just in time. It cut into the snow in front of them, leaving a blackened line on the ground. At the very least, the machine seemed stationery; if they could get cover behind the cliff, they might be safe.

He dashed further up the slope, dragging Albedo by the hand. He heard the buzzing become louder, louder, but they were almost out of sight…

Albedo tripped. Kaeya felt it, the harsh tug making him stumble. He looked back just in time to see the beam fire right into Albedo’s leg.

They didn’t have time to stop.

He dragged the man onto his feet, and they ran, lungs burning and muscles screaming, until they couldn’t hear the buzzing anymore, and they ran still. Only minutes later, when they were on an actual path - Kaeya didn’t know those existed this high up Dragonspine - did they stop to make sure the mechanism wasn’t after them.

The cliffs behind them were still, the only movement the snow swirling in the wind and the waving of bare branches. No sight of deadly machines. No threatening humming pursuing them.

Albedo pried Kaeya’s stiff fingers off his wrist. He mumbled an apology, then almost choked on his words when he saw the state of Albedo’s leg. While they were running he didn’t stop to think about how the man managed to keep pace with him, but now he was horrified that perhaps their mad dash just made things worse.

A large, blackened gash ran up the side of his thigh, deep enough that Kaeya knew it reached bone, saw the bits of white where the flesh was uncharred. The gash continued a bit below his knee, and up past his hip as well to his side. According to human anatomy it stopped before it reached his ribcage, but Kaeya didn’t think human anatomy applied to Albedo.

There was barely any blood. A lot of the wound was cauterized, but even then, there was barely any blood , the pale pink flesh exposed and only slightly stained red. Anyone else should’ve bled out by now with an injury like that, with muscles gaping and bones out in the open, but Albedo barely had a limp.

Kaeya didn’t know what to say. He wanted to ask, to scream, but he just stared in shock at the deadly, disfiguring wound that the alchemist was running around with.

Albedo waved a hand in front of his face, and somehow that broke Kaeya out of his stupor. “We should get to the lab” he panted. “It’s not too far now.”

“How are you…”

Albedo cut him off. “I could ask you the same thing. You shouldn’t be walking around with that,” he said, pointing his chin at Kaeya’s arm. Now that he drew attention to it, the pain carving into his arm was almost dizzying. A shiver made him jolt hard enough to crack the layer of ice on his arm. With his clothes torn as they were, he needed to get out of the cold soon.

He had so many questions, and part of him wanted to hold Albedo at swordpoint again and not let him go until he gave Kaeya all the answers he wanted. Another part of him knew he was truly going to die if he didn’t get someplace warm in the next thirty minutes.

“Alright.” He swallowed his pain down. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Text

The walk up to Albedo’s laboratory was easily one of the worst experiences of Kaeya’s life.

With the adrenaline draining from his system, every step felt like a mile. The searing pain in his right arm, coupled with a deep, throbbing ache echoing through his body made him want to throw up. The parts of him that didn’t hurt were growing numb from the cold, which was getting worse the higher they got. Sharp, frozen snowflakes cut into his face, hurried along by the strong winds. Kaeya’s never been in a blizzard that heavy, and hoped that he will never have to be ever again.

Albedo wasn’t in much better shape either. Now that they slowed down, he had a clear limp – still horrible that he could even walk in his state, Kaeya thought –, and he seemed to sway every once in a while, as if he was dizzy. He wasn’t showing signs of the cold affecting him, but Kaeya wasn’t sure if he could trust his people-reading skills anymore when it came to the alchemist.

They walked in silence, Albedo in the front, using some stick they found along the path as a crutch. It felt like hours had passed by the time he came to a stop.

The jagged ribs of Wyrmrest Valley arched on their right, a sheer cliff face rose on their left. A long broken, wooden pathway hung above the valley, completely unfit for traversal. No cave or camp in sight.

“Come here,” Albedo said as he walked up to the cliff face. “We’re taking the less beaten road.”

There was no road to speak of. Anywhere. Kaeya would’ve laughed if he wasn’t afraid he might vomit instead. “Please, elaborate on that. Surely we’re not crossing that? ”

As if in answer, the valley howled at them. Kaeya really wished the wind would shut up.

“We aren’t. We’ll cross on this wall.” The alchemist turned to Kaeya. “Please come closer. I need to get us up.”

There was a small lip, perhaps ten, thirteen feet up the cliff. There weren’t any handholds or rope to climb up, which they couldn’t have done anyways in their respective states. Maybe Albedo did lose a lot of blood, and was speaking nonsense because of that.

“ Why are we crossing that ?” It felt like an easier question than are you sure you’re not delirious? Because if you are, I will just find a comfortable pile of snow to die on, since we are clearly not surviving this.

“My lab is on the other side.”

“And how exactly do you plan on getting over there?”

Albedo’s patience finally ran out. “If you just- come here! ” He grabbed Kaeya by the wrist of his wounded arm, which, first of all, was incredibly cruel, second of all, shamefully effective, and pulled the man to his side. Pain cleaved into Kaeya like a flaming blade, and he had every intention to curse Albedo back to Khaenri’ah once the stars cleared from his vision, but before he could get to that, the earth moved under his feet.

A strange, flower-shaped platform formed underneath them, and started to rise slowly. It was lucky they didn’t fall off, with Kaeya’s vertigo and Albedo’s eyes shut into a frown of focus. The platform brought them up to the ledge, and then lowered them down on the other side. There were a few feet of empty air on the last stretch of the journey where the structure started to tremble, crumbling into nothingness not a second after Albedo pulled both of them onto solid ground and away from the gaping, hungry jaw of the valley.

Finally, there it was. Albedo’s laboratory was situated in a cave largely shaded from the wind, barely noticeable from most angles. It looked almost exactly like his lab back in the city; tables full of delicate glass piping, strange contraptions, and piles and piles of papers. Notably, what wasn’t in the cave, was a bed or a fireplace. 

Three steps into the cave’s relative safety Kaeya felt his knees give out. He just barely caught himself on the corner of a worktable, saving himself from faceplanting into the cold hard ground. Next thing he knew, he was being pushed down into a chair. There was a blur of blonde and blue in front of him, that eventually cleared into the sight of Albedo’s face. He looked… worried?

The gall .

“I’ll get you some bandages.”

Kaeya clenched his jaw to stop his teeth from chattering. They chattered anyways. “Get a damn fire going first, for fucks sake!”

“Oh. Yes, right. One moment.” As if it was the least of his care in this world. It probably really was.

Every shiver that jolted his body made the pain radiating from Kaeya’s wound flare up. He tasted blood in his mouth, but couldn’t tell why. Did he bite his tongue? It didn’t hurt.

There was a flicker of light, and soon the sound of a crackling fire filled the cave. Kaeya didn’t realize he closed his eye until the flames painted his eyelid a faint orange. He tried focusing on the fire, but his vision was still blurry, darkness creeping in from the edges. 

At least the warmth helped. The bone-deep frost in his limbs slowly thawed, the numbness turning into an ache. He had enough mind to start peeling his clothes off before all the caked on snow and ice would melt and soak them. His wound was also opening up, now that the protective layer of ice was gone. It wept red, making a mess of Albedo’s floor.

What an absurd thought . He huffed to himself. Making a mess of a cave.

Most of his attention was occupied with trying to keep himself conscious and avoiding death from hypothermia, so he was only vaguely aware of what Albedo was doing. He flitted around the cave for a while, eventually returning to his side.

“Here.” A bundle of clean bandages in his hand. “I think you should make the bleeding stop.”

Kaeya wanted to bite back, make a snarky comment, force the alchemist out of his space. Instead he just accepted the cloth. Albedo was right, after all.

He peeled the rest of his clothes off, layer by soaked, torn, heavy layer. He hissed when bits of ice still frozen to his skin were ripped away, and bit his tongue some more when he had to move his wounded arm to rest it in a different angle. In the panicked haze of fighting the lawachurl and running from that strange machine, he didn’t pay much attention to his injury, but now he had to admit that Albedo’s earlier apprehension had merit. His wound was more of a tear than a cut, starting at his shoulder and stopping a bit above his elbow. It mostly only reached muscle, but the searing pain in his shoulder made him worry about broken bones. If the blow splintered something…

He needed stitches at the very least, potentially a pair of tweezers and some strong alcohol at worst. Having bits of stray bone stuck in his flesh did not sound like a fun time.

“Albedo, do you happen to…” His words died on his tongue, ash dissolved in water. On the other side of the fire, Albedo was tending to his own wounds. Bent over his stretched out leg, he was stiff as a board, movements slow and so, so very rigid as he cleaned up the jagged edges of the gash on his thigh. The scissors in his hands did not look like the surgical ones the healers of the cathedral used, but they appeared sharp enough, cutting away the scorched, flapping pieces of skin and flesh.

He wasn’t breathing. Kaeya was very familiar with the measured panting that came with pain, but Albedo’s chest was still. His lips were pressed together, eyes wide and unblinking, only staring at his hands. He slowly set the scissors aside when Kaeya spoke, only looking up when they were nowhere near his wound anymore.

The familiar teal of his eyes was now a pale, watery blue. Kaeya wasn’t sure if it was the lighting, or if they really changed colour.

“Yes?” Albedo held his gaze for a moment, then it wandered over to his shoulder. He tilted his head, a tiny thing, easy to miss for anyone but Kaeya.

He’s exhausted , Kaeya thought. He cleared his throat. “Thread, needle, tweezers. Do you have any?”

“Pine desk. Middle drawer on the left.”

And there they were, arranged in neat little containers. It was a miracle Kaeya could walk the total of seven steps between his chair and the desk, with the pain steadily radiating out from his shoulder and taking up the beat of his heart.

He really didn’t feel like digging tiny pieces of bone out of his shoulder. It didn’t matter. He put the tweezer between his teeth, and pulled the wound apart. Blood gushed onto his fingers and small dots of light burst in front of his eyes, and he wondered if his teeth or the tweezers would break first from how hard he was clenching his jaw. He dug into raw, open muscle, and only stopped minutes, hours, days later, when he found no splinters of white and was about to fall out of his chair.

Sewing the wound shut was the easiest part, although he wasn’t sure how he got the needle threaded. He felt like he couldn’t hold a glass of water with how bad his hands shook. His stitchwork was ugly as sin, but it held fast. That was all he needed. The church healers will clean him up, once they get back to the city.

“Kaeya.” The call was so quiet that at first he thought he was imagining things. He still lifted his head on instinct.

“Hm?”

He shouldn’t have looked up. Albedo was finished with his leg and now was fiddling with the wound on his torso. Kaeya was sure that the bit of white poking out was his hipbone. He wished Diluc had blinded him in both eyes.

“The fire will go out soon.”

As if on cue, the last branch on the fire snapped in two, collapsing onto the embers. The full-body shivers caused by his blood loss masked the fact that the cave was steadily growing colder.

“Oh, for Barbatos’...” Kaeya glanced around. “Where’s the firewood?”

“By the easel.”

“The easel? ” He didn’t mean to say that out loud. Albedo let his head roll to the side, indicating the deepest corner of the cave, and there it really was, an easel next to a neat, small pile of logs and kindling. Kaeya stood with a groan, and determinedly did not keel over. “Why would you even have an easel up here?”

Despite looking pale as a corpse, Albedo still heard his muttering. “I like painting. I thought you knew that.”

I didn’t think you actually liked it. Thought it was just for show. But apparently, Kaeya was wrong. There was no one to perform for on this cursed mountain, only the heavens themselves, and he doubted Albedo cared about them even one bit.

Rebuilding the fire would’ve been a lot easier if his trembling hands didn’t knock the little tower of sticks down all the time, but the flames fattened up eventually. With his arm finally bandaged up, he could also pull his backup sweater on. Not that it helped a lot, but at least he wasn’t getting any colder.

He sat in silence, drinking in the fire’s warmth, watching Albedo slowly sew himself shut. It was… fascinating, in a strange and gruesome way. He was methodical; if Kaeya hadn’t known better, he would’ve likened it to a butcher preparing a fresh cut of meat. But even through the haze of blood loss and the exhaustion caused by the cold and the pain, he could see the strain in his jaw, the slowness of his hands, the tired emptiness on his face. He didn’t have the energy to lie to himself about the man being unfeeling, uncaring. And he didn’t have the energy to be scared by that realization.

His first thought upon waking was, that was a terrible dream. His second; fuck, why does everything hurt so much? And his third:

“ Ugh …”

The groan stumbled past his tongue like muck splashing past the sewer grates during heavy rains. It was disgusting and unwanted and unavoidable. He was cold and in pain and he had the horrible inkling that if he were to open his eye, he would see the dimly lit cave that housed the Chief Alchemist’s laboratory on Dragonspine. And that, that fourth thought woke him fully.

The cold of the cave wall he was leaning against creeped through the blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He was stiff and achy, both from exertion and from the terrible, truly horrible sleeping position. Although Albedo fashioned a bed for him, with his unnerving magic and perhaps the last morsels of his strength, Kaeya refused to lay down. It would’ve looked too much like trust, and trust was the last thing he felt towards the alchemist. So he elected to sit on the mattress, back resting against the hard stone wall. He fell asleep in a pinch, anyway. Didn't even have time to take one last look at the alchemist, was he to freeze to death in his slumber.

Now, it was apparent that the cold didn’t kill him, and neither did the wandering hand of Albedo. He listened to the crackling of the fire, waiting for movement or the soft breathing of a second person, and heard nothing but the howls of the wind.

He cracked his eye open. On the other side of the fire, right where he left him, was the slumped figure of Albedo. He was leaning against the leg of one of his many desks, legs stretched out, hands folded in his lap. Not a single twitch. Kaeya would’ve thought him dead, had their eyes not met in the next moment.

He still looks tired , he thought.

“It’s impolite to watch people in their sleep,” he said. It wasn’t as biting as he wanted it to be.

He was tired too, he supposed.

Albedo didn’t blink, didn’t budge. “You were moaning in your sleep. Are you still in pain?”

Pain. What is pain, even. His right arm, that is. His head. His lower back, maybe. He had half the mind to close his eye and go back to sleep.

Instead, he replied. “Do you think I’m not?”

“That’s not an answer to my question.”

“Oh, I think it is.”

He shivered, hard, and bit back another moan when it made his right arm jolt. He decided that moving closer to the fire would be a better idea than chasing down another nightmare. He scooted off the bed, and surprised himself when he could stand. Even more so when he managed to make his way over to the flames without falling over.

He put two more logs on the fire before he really settled into his blankets. Albedo clearly didn’t care for the cold. Nor for the food, it seemed; his portion of grilled fish they made before going to sleep was only half-eaten, plate pushed to the side.

The alchemist still looked awful. The thin layer of bandages wrapped around the gash tearing up his leg and side was pristine white, no red staining it, but Kaeya knew that this was the exact same position he was in when Kaeya went to sleep, hours ago. He probably had trouble standing.

Albedo’s voice was quiet when he said “I’d rather you just asked.”

Kaeya’s been staring. So much for subtlety. “Ask about what?”

“Me.”

“Why would I want to ask about you?”

Albedo sighed, louder than Kaeya has ever seen him do anything. Defeated, annoyed. He tilted his head back, the knock of his skull on the side of the table lost in the crackling of flames. “ Do I really need to get a rise out of you to make you actually do anything? ”

The syllables of khaenri’ahn fit into the echo of the cave perfectly. It made Kaeya shiver.

“It’s not your fault. I only take orders from a select few.”

“ And you require an order to ask me questions? After tailing me for a year? ”

Perhaps it was just his imagination, but Kaeya could’ve sworn that khaenri’ahn flowed easier from Albedo’s tongue than Mondstadt’s common tongue. The words caught on the edges of his mind like a cat’s claw snags on a knitted sweater, and pulled him into the strange, warm feeling of familiarity, one that he’s not felt in over a decade. “ I guess you do have a point.”

It was shameful how easily he still spoke the language. How none of it faded, even after years of not using it.

He wasn’t sure what he should ask. There were the big ones, the obvious ones; what are you? Where do you come from? Why are you here, doing what you do, rather than lying in a collapsed cavern far to the west or mindlessly wandering the fields like the rest of Khaenri’ah’s machines? But those all felt too forward. Left too big of a gap in his defenses.

Instead, he settled for something smaller. “How’s your leg? And, the rest of you, really.”

Albedo’s eyes followed the wave of his hands, before returning to his face. “Adequate. Should be healed in two days.” He took a deep breath. Frowned. “Maybe three, if I keep using Khemia.”

“Khemia?”

“It’s an advanced form of alchemy.” He waved his hand, mirroring Kaeya. His fingers pointed at the bed “You’ve seen it work before.”

Kaeya thought about that night at headquarters, when Albedo almost gutted him with a sword he made out of a candelabra, as if he could mold matter to his liking like clay. “I have.”

The alchemist shifted on the ground, sitting a little closer up against the table. “How are you? ”

“I didn’t know you could ask questions too.”

“It’s only fair, no? An exchange of information.”

Kaeya huffed out a laugh, and choked down his grimace when it sent a jolt of pain down his arm. “And what happened to hospitality?”

“It’s your fault you didn’t use the bed properly.”

That was a fair point. Kaeya moved a little closer to the fire. “I’m fine. I could use a change of bandages, but I’ve had worse injuries than this.” He ignored Albedo’s stare until it felt like a hot nail was being driven into his forehead. He ignored it for another heartbeat before he caved. “Okay, fine, fine might be a bit of a stretch. But there’s nothing to be done about it, is there? As long as I can hold my sword and walk around, I’m okay.”

“You can’t hold your sword.”

Kaeya grabbed a stick from beside the fire with his left. He waved it around like a blade, the hours and hours of practice he put into making sure he could wield his weapon even with his non-dominant hand clear in his movements. As a finishing flourish, he twirled the twig between his fingers, entirely un-swordlike. It seemed to amuse Albedo all the same.

“I see my hypothesis was wrong.” His lips curved into the faintest of smiles. “You are a very dedicated Cavalry Captain.”

“Only my best for the safety of Mondstadt!”

“Even though you’re not from here?”

How cruel, to sneak behind his walls so easily. Like the first cold breeze of autumn, disguised as relief from the heat just to give you a sore throat. Kaeya tried to swallow his cowardice down. He wasn’t sure he succeeded.

“I grew up here. Is that not enough?”

“But you weren’t born here.”

“No.” He had precious few memories from before he was taken in by the Ragnvindrs. The sight of sprawling, golden dunes, the humidity of the rainforest, how it was always warm beneath the canopy of green. His mother’s hands, darker than his, putting a bowl of fatteh in front of him. His father's eyes, pupils split like stained glass.

There was a familiar ache in his chest, one he tried to drown in blood, wine and tears, but never quite managed to get rid of, only make it duller, until he could ignore it, forget it. He stared into the flames, but they only reminded him that his second home has also been empty for three years now.

He cleared his throat. “I was taken in by the Ragnvindrs when I was eight. I don’t remember much from before that.” He managed to pull his lips into a frozen corpse of a smile. “So, really, at the end of the day I’m just an ordinary mondstadter.”

That ghost of a smile was still lingering on Albedo’s lips. “I’d say you are far from ordinary.”

You’re right. Awful, disappointing and sordid all fit me quite well . Kaeya let those thoughts go stale on his tongue. “I take it you’re saying that from personal experience? Seeing as you are also far from a regular mondstadter.”

“I’m unsure if you could call me a mondstadter.” Albedo picked at the bandages around his thigh. “My master created me in a lab somewhere on the borders of Sneznaya. We travelled a lot, never settled down anywhere. Most you could call me is khaneri’ahn, and even that’s a stretch.”

The bits of Kaeya that were warmed by the fire buzzed with excitement. Finally, he was getting the answers he had spent a year hunting. But the rest of him, the larger part of him just felt… sad. Albedo was a mirror all to clear, and Kaeya had always been too good at spotting loneliness. Suddenly, in the dim light and the biting frost, Albedo didn’t look like a machine at all. Only like someone very, very lost.

But he didn’t get this far in life because of his soft heart. He reminded himself what he knew Albedo to be; incredibly powerful, in singleminded pursuit of an unknown goal, with no strong attachments to Mondstadt. He knew better than to get caught up in hopefully what-ifs. Hope didn’t save his people, nor Crepus, nor him.

A quiet voice, that sounded all too much like thirteen year old him, disagreed. Kaeya did his best to ignore it.

“Master?” he asked, trying to get his mind in order. “Created in a lab?”

Surprisingly, Albedo averted his gaze. “I’m…” His fingers found their way into a gap between the bandages on his leg, poking at the raised, pale flesh. “You may know her name. Rhinedottir. Gold.”

A shiver ran down Kaeya’s spine, as if the temperature had dropped inside the cave. It felt like it, at the very least; he’s heard about the mad genius who created all sorts of otherworldly monstrosities to aid Khaenri’ah during the Cataclysm. All her creatures were said to be horrid, terrible beasts that knew only destruction. Having seen what Albedo was capable of, he could easily believe that the alchemist was just one of her many designs.

“I vaguely recall hearing about her.” He schooled his expression into something neutral while Albedo was busy prying his wound open.

“She made me. I’m an… artificial human. A homunculus.” Kaeya watched as he pinched a piece of suture between his fingernails. He pulled at it, slightly; Kaeya expected blood, but of course, none came. His own arm throbbed in sympathy. “It’s why this is no bother. I’m sure you’ve been wondering.”

And yet, Kaeya’s mind couldn’t put the image of Albedo and a ruin guard side by side and say, these are the same . It felt wrong to even try.

He cleared his throat. “It’s been a passing curiosity, yes.” Albedo huffed at that, and Celestia curse him again, it seemed to warm up the air around them. “Must be handy, to not be as fragile as ordinary humans.”

“Mm. I guess so.”

“How come you’re not with your master?” If Rhinedottir were to come to Mondstadt…

And there was that familiar frown on Albedo’s face again, the one Kaeya tried to make go away just that morning. It was an answer in itself. Albedo still spoke. “We… parted ways four years ago. She gave me one final task to become a fully fledged alchemist, and she…” A single drop of red rolled forth from between his fingers, where they pressed into his wound.

“Left.” Albedo finally looked up at that, and Kaeya felt like he was looking his nine year old self in the eyes. He offered a smile, stilted and weak. “They do that an awful lot, huh? Parents.”

“She’s not my mother.”

“Whatever you say. She’s still not here.”

Silence settled over them like the heavy hand of defeat. The wind was a mourning wolf, howling louder than ever now that its lungs could expand to the space where its heart used to be. It made Kaeya want to reach out, to say come on. If I could grow up with a gaping wound in my chest, you can do so too. Instead he squinted out into the dark, the blind gray of the snowstorm. They still had a few hours till morning.

He tossed another log onto the fire, and stood, blinking away the starts from his vision. “You should sleep. And once the sun comes up you can tell me all about your real reason for dragging me up here.”

Albedo blinked up at him. “I don’t need sleep.”

Right, that’s why you look like you’re about to keel over . “Get up off the ground at least, then. You made a bed for a reason, no?”

Perhaps it was just the exhaustion that made Albedo take his hand. They both groaned as Kaeya pulled him up from the floor, and it was a miracle they didn’t stumble right into the fire.

“I made that bed for you,” Albedo wheezed.

“How generous!”

“Lying down isn’t going to help.”

“Then,” Kaeya did not hit his knee on the bedframe as he sat down, “you will be happy to hear that you wouldn’t have had space for that anyways.” He scooted to the foot of the bed, and wrapped the blanket tighter around himself. He shut his eye. “Goodnight.”

A few moments later he felt the mattress dip and heard the quiet hiss of pain, as Albedo settled down on the other end of the bed. He may have been made of whatever material Gold used to construct him, but it was clear that he still needed to rest, especially with an injury like that. Just the thought of it raised the hairs on the back of Kaeya’s neck. He’s seen people die to much, much less.

And yet, somehow, they both made it out alive. Questions buzzed around in his mind like flies, regarding that machine and Albedo and what he really wanted with him on Dragonspine, until they dropped dead from the cold, one by one. And as the last one froze and fell, Kaeya fell with it into sleep.

Chapter Text

Albedo was dreaming.

He knew this, because Rhinedottir and Klee have never met, yet now they were chatting happily in the sand on Falcon Coast, while him and Aunt Alice sat in the shade of a parasol, observing. It was an average summer day, with clear blue skies and warm sunshine to match. The water was unnaturally blue, almost a soft periwinkle at times. None of this was real. He wanted to paint it all the same.

"We should've brought your easel," Alice said, and refilled his teacup. "This painting would've looked nice in the foyer, don't you think?"

Albedo had little taste for interior design. But before he could voice that fact, something drew his attention. A lone rider on the horizon, walking the line where the waves and the sand met.

"Hm. You should drink your tea, Albedo dear."

Suddenly, the delicate red porcelain cup was in his hand. It radiated a pleasant warmth, that slowly spread up his arms and into the rest of his body. When he next looked up, searching for that horseman again, everything was black.

When Albedo opened his eyes, he was confused to find a campfire in the middle of his laboratory, and wary to see a figure sitting across from it. There were scant few hilichurls at this elevation, and they usually travelled in groups; although, it wouldn't have been surprising if the fire drew some into the cave. It would have been the first time in all three years, though. And he wasn't one to make fires to begin with.

He waited for his vision to sharpen before he moved or made any noise. The strange fuzz surrounding the figure turned into a fur collar, shadows gave way to navy blue locks and an elegantly curved eyebrow.

Kaeya. It was just Kaeya; and he was there because Albedo asked for his help.

The memories flickered to life in his mind. The hilichurls at the stone tablet, that peculiar machine, their injuries and their unpleasant journey up to the lab. The conversation about homes and parents and loneliness, that made a part of him deep withing cringe and cower.

As his mind cleared the last wisps of his dream away, he became aware of the ache on his body. A dull throb ran up his leg, up to his side. It was an unusual feeling; he rarely got injured, and even less so seriously. This was probably the worst injury he'd ever gotten.

It was quite nice to have Kaeya help him up to the lab yesterday. Even just the thought of having to get back alone made him grimace. And however strange it was to have another person up here, it didn't feel… awful. Unusual, peculiar; but not awful.

He sat up a little straighter, ready to climb out of bed. Kaeya immediately looked up at the movement.

"Good morning," he cooed. "Slept well?"

Albedo was too tired to try and count the layers of sarcasm in his voice. He set his feet on the ground, and tested the strength of his right leg. Yesterday the side flexors in his thigh were mostly severed, and the compact tissue of both his femur and his pelvis suffered serious burns. It'd been roughly fifteen hours since the altercation, ten of which he spent resting; his bones were supposed to be mostly healed, muscles usable with light strain. "Yes." The wound hurt, but it didn't feel like the exertion was worsening his condition. Just like he assumed. "I apologize for sleeping in. Didn't expect you to wake so soon."

The sky outside was gray as always, but the lighter shade of the clouds meant the sun rose roughly two hours ago. An early start for a day, especially considering the fact that Kaeya looked like he's been awake for a while now. There were heavy, dark circles underneath his eye, his lips were tinged ever so slightly blue, and he held his right arm at an awkward angle, posture stiff. When Albedo listened, he could hear that his pulse was weaker than usual.

Kaeya smiled, showing off his teeth. "Nothing like freezing toes to get your morning started!" Albedo was about to apologize again, but the man continued. "Not to mention how curious I am to learn all about your discoveries up here. I'm sure you have many fascinating things to share."

Cold and sharp, just like what the alchemist had gotten used to in the past year. Gone was that reluctant kindness he'd shown yesterday. Injuries did that to people, Albedo thought. Nothing to be surprised about, and nothing to get annoyed over. Though perhaps he should've made sure that Kaeya is a bit more comfortable.

He walked to the fire with careful steps. It was bigger than last night, no doubt thanks to the large, organized pile of sticks and branches that were stacked up next to Kaeya. He really had been awake for a while if he had time to gather firewood. The sprat Albedo ate half of still sat on the plate beside the flames, but now there were steaming skewers of mushroom and meat laid out on it. What seemed to be the last set of skewers was balanced on some rocks, tilted towards the flames, turned over every once in a while by Kaeya's careful hands.

Sitting down was more difficult than he would've liked it. No matter. "You could've just eaten the fish."

"And leave you with no breakfast? That wouldn't be very nice, would it?" Yesterday's soft periwinkle was now glinting steel. "Or do homunculi not need to eat at all?"

The sympathy he felt about their shared discomfort was overshadowed by the pinching tautness of nerves. Albedo almost forgot that they had that conversation. The knowledge that his biggest secret was now in Kaeya's grasp made something deep within him itch and writhe.

An exchange of information, he reminded himself. It was okay for Kaeya to know.

"I do. Not as often, but I do. Can't speak for other homunculi though." He decided that appeasing the man's curiosity was wiser than acknowledging his jabs. He pulled the plate of half-eaten sprat into his lap and added, "As far as I'm aware, I'm the only one."

A small hum was his only response. The flames flickered, bending and bowing as wind rushed into the cave. It shook Kaeya's shoulders, made him reach for thicker branches to feed to the fire. Albedo ignored how the fish tasted like sawdust in his mouth, in favour of satiating his own curiosity. An ordinary vision holder wasn't supposed to be able to shake off Dragonspine's weather the way Kaeya did. He chewed the sprat for four more seconds, then finally swallowed. The remaining three bites on his plate could wait.

"How do you handle the cold so well?"

The answer he got was a flat, annoyed look. "I have a cryo vision, as I'm sure you're already aware. Do you prefer pointless questions for breakfast rather than food?"

No, that's not it. "Not everyone with a cryo vision can survive this weather. Does yours protect you somehow? Or is it some part of your heritage that-"

"My dear alchemist," Kaeya's syrupy sweet, honey-sticky voice felt almost caustic. His accompanying smile was no less sugary or cutting. "It's none of your business." Albedo wanted to argue that it was a fascinating scientific phenomena, but the man cut him off again. "And actually, speaking of business; the whole reason I'm here on this gods-forsaken mountain is because you wanted me to look at some scrappy old stones for you. I'd much prefer if we got around to that as soon as possible."

While Kaeya's words reminded Albedo of hot, yellow sunshine, the storm swirling in his eye could've put Dragonspine's weather to shame. Once again, the man served as inspiration; Albedo could already imagine the painting. A single ray of warm, golden sunlight in the foreground, straight like a blade, highlighted by the rolling, dark stormclouds gathering behind it.

A sigh pulled him out of his thoughts. Across him, Kaeya now wore a different expression; eyebrows no longer sharp like blades, shoulders dropped. He shut his eye for a moment; when he next looked at Albedo, he was softer, somehow. Soft in the sense of a hard edge being worn away, like an old, forgotten sword. "I apologize for being harsh. The circumstances are…" A huff of a laugh. "Let's just say, less than ideal. It's not my best day."

This was perhaps the first time he ever said sorry to Albedo. The first time he was remorseful about not being kind or polite.

Truth be told, Albedo was bothered by his snappishness, the feeling likely born from his own discomfort. However, his impatience was quickly soothed, partially by the unexpected apology, but more by the realization that this change, this familiarity was going to stay. If Kaeya swallowed his wariness and secrecy here of all places, on Dragonspine, between just the two of them, that must've meant that he really was warming up to Albedo. That the days of cold words and colder looks were of the past.

"It's okay." Something must've shown on his face, because Kaeya's expression changed again, reflecting some of his own turbulent feelings. He didn't understand why this revelation mattered so much. "It's my fault for underestimating just how hazardous the mountain is. I also apologize."

Like a spark, or the blue morning sky, a smile slipped onto Kaeya's lips, a tiny, but genuine one, unlike his slippery sweet grins or shiny glass smirks he so often donned. It was tired and a little shaky, yet strangely captivating. "Don't worry about it. Let's just get this over with, shall we?"

"Of course."

Standing was a little more painful than he expected, but Albedo still made it to his desk without much of a limp. The table's surface was clean as he always left it, any loose papers stored safely in the drawers beneath it. He knew the location of everything by heart; his hands found the notes regarding Dragonspine in an instant.

He piled maps and notebooks onto the desk, all the ones he thought could hold relevant information. Kaeya was peeking over his shoulder as he spread them out, placing alembics and rocks on any that was at danger of being swept up by the wind.

"So." The ache in his leg was drowned out by the excitement about his research. He couldn't share any of this with anyone up until now. "I wanted to get your opinion on the stone tablets. I have found one other outside of the one we visited, and I suspect there are more still. Hopefully I can piece a few more bits of the ruined text together, although what we have so far is already a lot of information." He opened a notebook, and placed it in Kaeya's hand. "Here's the original text and my translation for both of them."

There was a moment of silence, before the man softly said, "You write your notes in khaenri'ahn."

Albedo glanced over his shoulder. "I do. If it's a problem I can translate-"

"No. No, it's fine, I was just…" He found that a quiet sadness shrouded Kaeya's eye. "I didn't expect it. I don't know why." The frown was quickly blinked away, and he started to read." Something ended. There is no more need for records. Yet I regret nothing more than having been unable to watch her finish the fresco within that great hall." He looked up at Albedo. "What is this talking about? A fresco within a great hall? Where?"

"I'm not sure. I have theories, but… Please, read the second one. The transcript and the translation, too. I want to know if you think it says what I think it does."

Kaeya shot a suspicious glance at him, but continued. "…snow whipped across the skies. The pillar that fell from the heavens was riven in three-" his fingers twitched on the notebook. Albedo could see his eye widen, his chest rise quicker, could hear his blood rush. When their eyes next met, there was fear in Kaeya's. "Don't tell me this is what I think it is."

He was right to be scared, Albedo thought, even if his own fear was overwhelmed by the anticipation of connecting all the details. Because he had many, many details that potentially fit into a large, terrifying, exhilarating puzzle.

"It is." He swallowed, and suddenly heard his own pulse in his ear. "I think there is a celestial nail on Dragonspine."

It felt a little wrong to say it. Despite the centuries he lived without the protection of any god, despite being the creation of one of the five sinners of the godless nation, the four years he spent in the land of the Anemo Archon resonated inside Albedo like a bell being rung. One wasn't supposed to speak about threats like a celestial nail so lightly.

"You can't just say that. You can't-" Kaeya swept his gaze over the rest of the papers. "You're researching that? Are you out of your mind?" He glanced at the ceiling as if he was expecting the heavens to strike them down there and then. Maybe he was.

"Among other things, yes. There is so much we don't know, so much we can learn. People lived here, before the nail fell; like in the Chasm, like on Tsurumi! It doesn't all fit together, not yet, but Kaeya, if I'm on the right track-"

"Do you want Mondstadt in a coffin?!" The man's voice drowned out the wails of the storm, and stilled the words on Albedo's tongue. There was a familiar look on his face; a deep, shaking terror, like on that night months ago where they held blades at each other's hearts in the empty hallway of the Favonius Headquarters. "Do you want Celestia to bury this place too? You don't just question why they threw the nails where they did. We are both well aware what happened to the people who last tried to undermine their authority!"

"But this isn't like that. I'm one person-"

"Yes, and your connection to Gold means nothing, right? You could have the Sinners behind your back, do you think Celestia will just-"

"They aren't nearly as omnipotent as you would think, and if I can-"

"Do you want Klee dead?"

Time didn't stop. Albedo could still hear the wind howling, feel the slow beat of his heart, but it all felt so… distant. Like he was underwater, or frozen in ice.

The thought of Klee…

There was a strange pain in his chest, as if his heart seized up, despite it being unable to do so. It was a terrifying option. It was unimaginable, and yet, Albedo could picture it perfectly. A tiny, lifeless body, charred unrecognizably. The final moments before her cries faded away. A corpse that was never meant to exist, laying at his feet.

"Don't you understand," Kaeya leaned closer, until the fog of his breath was trapped between them, until Albedo had no choice but to look the man in the eye, "what's at stake here?"

And in that moment, he suddenly understood why Kaeya behaved the way he did. What spurred him to live in constant vigilance. It was a change in perspective so wildly different from his own, that he felt like the earth was suddenly tilting underneath his feet, but the change brought incredible clarity, too. So many questions he had before now had an answer.

"So that's why you were so afraid." Their faces were mere inches apart; a perfect distance to notice all the tiny twitches of hidden emotions. "You were worried that I would put Mondstadt in a coffin."

He saw clear as day as Kaeya's throat moved. How his lip wobbled as he took a shaky breath.

"You still might," he whispered.

"I won't."

"But-"

"Kaeya." He had the sudden urge to take his hand. To calm his worries. "I've spent four centuries uncovering the secrets of this world. Trying to understand processes small and big, from the life cycle of crystaflies to the principals behind visions. I know what I'm doing. And I also know that this is necessary." That strange pang in his chest grew stronger. "Whatever happened here deserves to be understood. I want to understand it, too. Aren't you just a little bit curious about how Khaenri'ah could've looked in it's golden age? Don't you want to know more of the place you come from?"

He's never seen Kaeya so small before, than in that moment. Despite being taller, broader, it felt like it was Albedo towering over him, not the other way around. When he finally spoke, his voice was almost lost in the howling wind.

"Is it worth it? If it costs you what you have now?"

That, too, was a thought that's not crossed Albedo's mind before. He didn't really have things. He used to have Gold, but now she was gone, likely forever. He had his alchemy, but that could only be taken from him with his life in tow. He had Khaenri'ah, but only the idea of it, aimless sketches speculating about how it could've looked.

Did he really have things in Mondstadt that he could lose?

Things immediately, unexpectedly came to mind. Klee. His students and the friendly acquaintances he made with the Knights. His lab, his room in Alice's home. That blackberry cake that the baker made every fall, Starfell Cliff with it's cecilias, the soft whispers of wind at dawn, when the church bell's ring feels quiet, for once.

It's only been four years. How was it, that now he could've filled an entire page with the list of things he wanted to keep? When wanting was not something he ever did before?

It was startling. Yet, the risk didn't faze him. It just made his curiosity burn hotter. He wanted to learn more, discover more, understand more. He wanted to finish his Master's final task. He wanted to unravel the world until he understood it's every shade, until he could paint it himself.

"You're the Cavalry Captain. It's your calling, is the phrase people use, I believe." He gently took the notebook from Kaeya's trembling fingers. "You're praised highly for your work for a reason, and I would say with reasonable certainty that you find purpose in it. My job is this. To study, to learn. And it's not something I will stop doing just because someone tells me to."

There was understanding in Kaeya's eyes, and perhaps the tinge of surrender. He seemed to put two pieces together that Albedo was not privy to. "It's your important purpose here."

"Yes."

"This," he motioned to the desks, shelves, and tables full of equipment, "is also that. Yes?"

"Yes."

"You understand that I don't want any harm to befall Mondstadt, yes?"

"I believe we've had this conversation before."

Kaeya nodded. "We have. But this time, I want to cooperate." He turned back towards the table, to the maps and papers spread across it. "Tell me everything you know. So we can make sure that no one here meets the same fate."

Chapter Text

The air was warm and sticky, uncaring that the sun wouldn't rise for another hour or so, rather doubling down on cooking anything and everything alive. The breeze sneaking through the cathedral windows brought no chill, only the sound of weary crickets and sleepy frogs. Darkness nestled in the corners of the infirmary where starlight or the flame of candles couldn't reach. Kaeya could imagine the shadows were also hiding from the heat.

While the temperature was definitely one reason for his insomnia, it was more caused by the million thoughts swirling in his head. His mind refused to quiet since Albedo told him about ancient, intertwining civilizations, cities murdered by falling nails, corners of the world other than Khaenri'ah that held fast against the heavy fist of Celestia, until they finally met their end in dust and rubble.

He was never a man of science, and he didn't see the same potential in all the leads like Albedo did. Some of his theories made his blood go still, while others were almost laughable. But a part of him, a part that's been on edge since the moment he saw that yellow star on Albedo's neck, was now settled. The part of him that's been wanting to find its way into the alchemist's skull since then, to suss out his secrets, discover his plans, uncover his weak spots to strike. He was no fool; he knew he didn't know everything yet. In all likelihood he was never going to. But he knew enough.

They didn't stay on Dragonspine for long. Once Kaeya's head stopped spinning from all the knew information, they made their way down the mountain, miraculously avoiding any more injuries despite the two times Kaeya slipped and almost broke his leg, and the one occasion where Albedo almost strayed too close to a hilichurl camp. By the time they reached the Adventurers' camp, Kaeya was about to faint, and he was forced to make the rest of the journey back to the city in the back of a cart. Thankfully, his sorry state spared him most of the embarrassment. He was rushed to the cathedral the moment they entered the main gates.

He had a few visitors just before sundown, after the sisters finished treating him. Jean berated him for being so reckless and almost getting himself killed, all the while holding her tears back with impressive skill, just for them to spill anyways when she hugged him by his healthy shoulder, and made him swear he would never make her worry like that ever again. Emma visited as well, but rather than fret she told him about how the Cavalry mission went and cheekily asked for a few extra days to write her report. Because Kaeya needed the time to recover anyways. The boy from the Guild came around, too; said he wanted to thank the man for the fencing lessons, and bring some food, but he dropped the package on the way and lost his coinpouch, so he hoped that at least his well wishes would be welcomed. Kaeya just smiled, silently thanking Barbatos for keeping the boy alive this long, and told him to get a sister to patch his bleeding knee up.

The care was… strange. Unexpected. He didn't think so many people would be worried about him, when he was clearly in no danger of dying or even sustaining permanent injury. It felt a little wrong, like a sweater too tight, but as he gazed at the slowly brightening horizon he thought maybe he just forgot what it felt like for it to fit.

Careful, a voice in his skull rang, like an empty helmet hitting cold stone, don't start thinking that this comfort belongs to you. Last hopes don't get happy tomorrows.

Hours later, Albedo found him on the Cathedral steps, enjoying the clear blue skies and the last hour before the scorching heat set in. He was supposed to stay in the infirmary for another day at least, but even that little bit of time spent sitting around in bed doing nothing frayed his nerves like a cat destroys a leather couch. Thankfully, the sisters were easy enough to sweet-talk into giving him his freedom back. A few honeyed smiles and complaints of loneliness were enough, and he was soon let go with a sling wrapped around his arm and promise forced into his mouth that he would come back for checkups.

It was no surprise to see the blonde man ascending the stairs only minutes after Kaeya escaped the church walls. This was a habit of his; to show up whenever Kaeya had a free moment, completely by accident, as if the wind blew them together, like tangled dandelion seeds. Perhaps that really was the case, and Barbatos was having a grand old laugh pushing the two faithless men of his nation together.

The midmorning sun wove golden strands into the alchemist's hair, made his eyes light up like diamonds. He had no limp, steps even as always. Did he really heal up that quickly? Kaeya's arm ached in envy.

"Kaeya." Albedo stopped when he noticed the man. "I expected you to stay in the infirmary longer."

A month ago, Kaeya would've had to swallow down his snarl. Now, he was a fox who thought he could tell when the hand wanted to feed or to fight. Tell when it would be agreeable to play. He flashed one of his easy smiles, and didn't squint when the sun reflected off the crown of Albedo's head. "I hope I didn't disappoint you."

"Oh, no, not at all. It's good to see you're doing well."

There were exactly fifteen steps between them. It was amusing that Albedo still hasn't moved. Kaeya wanted to see how long he would stay there.

"So, what brings you here? I need you to know, I'm not quite up for another Dragonspine escapade just yet."

"I wanted to see how you were doing. And to let you know that I already wrote and submitted the report to the Grand Master about the expedition, so you don't need to worry about paperwork."

"How kind."

"It's only fair, no? You were busy recovering."

A laugh, light like the breeze weaving through the alchemist's messy bangs. "So everyone keeps telling me. Maybe I should get injured more often, make people do all the work for me!"

Albedo frowned. "I don't think that's the best way to reduce your workload."

It was endearing, how he took him seriously. "If our Chief Alchemist says so. He's the genius here, after all!"

"You're teasing me."

"Oh, I would never."

A small huff and a smile escaped Albedo. "Regardless. I'm glad I still caught you. Are you heading back to the Headquarters?"

Against his better judgement, his pride, and his nightmares, Kaeya started walking down the stairs towards the alchemist. Because it felt weird to keep his charade up after he's seen him split open. Because the distance between them suddenly felt like a fence. Because the man's face lit up when Kaeya said yes, I am, and offered to walk with him.

They talked about sweet nothings on the way over. The weather; Albedo said that Inazuma gets this hot too, but it's so much more humid, and the electricity makes his hair stand up. Food; Kaeya told him about the dango he tried when the Knights received a care package from the land of thunder, how unnervingly soft it was. Books; how Lisa was trying to get them both to read some light novels she ordered straight from Yae Publishing House, and how they all have ridiculous titles. Kaeya admitted to leafing through one, while Albedo voiced his preference toward liyuen style literature.

He asked, when he could see no one around and the wind was quiet, how Albedo's leg was doing. The other replied just as quietly; sore and scabbing still, but almost gone. Will be good as new by tomorrow.

The walk was like the bandages wrapped around Kaeya's arm. Tight enough to keep things in place, but loose enough not to suffocate. Comfortable enough to make one forget about its presence. In the heat and the lazy breeze they were barely more than two Knights lucky to be spending their time above ground still. Barely less than two men with more to carry on their shoulders that they could bear.

"I'm going back to Alice's," Albedo said when they reached the Headquarters building. "I just wanted to walk with you."

Because we go on walks now? Kaeya bit his tongue before it could bite him first. Would it have been so awful if they did? Most of his body screamed in fear, about oil meeting a flame, about a coffin with a singular nail closing it shut. But some of him, foolishly, entertained the idea of not being afraid anymore. A bold, proud, restless part of him, one with an aching back from bowing.

"How kind of you!" He barely had to pull his lips into a smile, they did their work on their own. "I'm rather fortunate to have such lovely company."

Like a dove's ruffled wings, Albedo's gaze flitted to the side. "It's nothing, really. Just indulging myself."

"Shameless."

"Don't say that."

He laughed, and Albedo giggled with him, and for a moment Kaeya didn't care if the sun was going to pierce straight through his chest for it. And when they said goodbye and he escaped into the cool darkness of the Headquarters, he thought that maybe this was fine. To look forward, for once. To not wait for a blade from every shadow.

A voice in the back of his head, echoing like a nation's tomb, said, this is how it started back then, too. Do you not remember how it ended?

Kaeya, like the faithless, foolish, faulty thing he was, ignored it.

Chapter Text

The weeks where summer bled into autumn passed in a haze that was unfamiliar to Albedo.

For how long his life was, he had a keen memory and an accurate sense of time. It was true that as the decades passed, it was more difficult to tell exactly by the year when certain things happened, but he found that his short-term memory was excellent. And yet, time after that trip to Dragonspine seemed to melt together, like colours on an unorganized palette.

Kaeya was recovering nicely, thanks to his strange resilience and the dutiful care of the sisters at the cathedral. Their interactions were more numerous, and warmer too, despite the tiny bit of hesitance that seemed to linger in the man still. The settling of their relationship brought a strange sense of relief to Albedo, but it couldn't suppress a new, uneasy feeling, that slowly made its presence known in his stomach.

"She.."

"Left. They do that a lot. Parents."

Kaeya's words occupied his mind more and more frequently as the weeks went by. Alice's home wasn't empty; Klee still lived there when an adult was around to stay with her, Albedo still had his room that he now slept in more than he didn't. Klee's been without her mother for longer periods of time than a month and a half, but the thought that Alice wasn't going to be back by a set date made it feel like every day without her was a new layer of snow on Albedo's shoulders. Cold, heavy. And the longer the nights grew, the more it refused to melt.

Red bloomed across the paper, the watery splotches unfurling into petals underneath Albedo's brush. One stroke, two, three; a tulip. Four, five, six; a cardinal. Seven, eight, nine; a pomegranate, seeds spilling forth like beads off a broken necklace. This wasn't the first page he filled with his watercolours, his desk was littered with them, but this was the first that eased that weight in his chest. The more crimson the paper was covered in, the more he felt like something was slowly seeping out of him too.

He glanced at the poetry book sat on the corner of his table. Lisa recommended it to him, and it's been a fine way to occupy his time between experiments, but there was one particular poem that stuck with him, that made him stay in the basement all night and just paint.

Green hills skirt the northern border,

White waters gird the eastern town;

Here we part with each other,

And you set out like a lonesome wisp of grass,

Floating across the miles, farther and farther away.

The author was someone named Zhenyu, and this was their only work in the entire book. Albedo wondered what made them write this piece. Was it based on a friend? Family? A lover? Perhaps something more abstract, something he couldn't even begin to grasp. Like childhood nostalgia, or the fear of growing old.

He dabbed his brush on the paint block again. Red like blood, red like fire, red like… not home. He didn't have a home. Did he?

The sound of the laboratory door opening was what broke him out of his thoughts. He glanced up, wondering who decided to pay him a visit in the middle of the night, and found Sucrose in the entrance.

"Good morning, Master Albedo!" She tiptoed inside. "Oh, are you working on a new painting?"

"Sucrose." He placed the brush to the side, careful not to leave any stains on the paper. "Why are you at the lab at this hour?"

Her steps faltered. "Uhm… I, I always come in at this time. Am I late? Did we agree to some other time? I'm so sorry, I uh, I think I forgot…"

Now, no longer absorbed in his work, Albedo could tell that the room was brighter than his lamps and candles would've lit it. Glancing up at the windows lining the ceiling, he saw the light blue of the morning sky and wisps of yellow-white clouds behind the glass. Hours, gone in a blink of an eye.

How did the night pass so quickly?

"No, there's nothing to worry about," he said, before the girl could get deeper in her own head about it. "I just lost track of time. I apologize."

He should have paid closer attention. It was pure luck that the crystal cores simmering above a burner weren't overcooked yet, and he's not had the entire pot explode from the thus released pressure. There was no excuse to be so careless in a place where others were nearby.

Sucrose didn't seem to question it. "Oh- oh. Okay." However, instead of heading to her desk like he expected her to, she walked up to Albedo and peered at the papers spread out in front of him. She gasped at the sight. "These are beautiful, Master Albedo!"

Were they? Albedo looked at a crimson peacock feather. Perhaps they were.

"Thank you. My latest read has been very inspiring."

She was still marvelling at the messy paintings, her gaze sliding from one page to the next. Her ears twitched slightly, in a way that Albedo came to know as a sign of excitement. "Will you send some to the author?"

He frowned. What a strange question. Why would someone do such a thing? "What do you mean?"

"You're paintings!" she pointed. "When people are particularly moved by a piece of literature, um, they often send letters of their appreciation to the author."

"I see." Albedo looked at the page doused in red. It was the kind of piece he usually stuffed into a sketchbook, that he felt no need to display. It wouldn't be an issue if he were to send it to someone. And maybe he could ask about the poem, too. If the author ever figured out how to make that feeling go away. "It may not be a bad idea."

"O-only if you want to, of course!" Sucrose waved her hands defensively, and almost tripped on the corner of a worktable as she backed up. "I just, I thought I would, uh… suggest the idea. If. If you wanted to… Ahem." She straightened some nonexistent wrinkles on her blouse. "I'm gonna, uh… go to my desk."

Even with her back turned, Albedo could still make out the smallest sliver of red skin from her furious blush. The sight made something sting in his chest, but strangely, it also soothed some of his turbulent feelings.

I should let her work. She might faint from embarrassment again otherwise. I'll thank her later.

And more importantly, he had to get back to supervising his experiments.

"And you got mad."

"I didn't! I simply wanted to correct her entirely wrong theory."

"A theory that touches on deeply personal feelings for you."

"It doesn't-" Albedo shut his jaw with an audible click. The pressure felt nice; made some of his irritation boil off. From the opposite side of the desk, Lisa just smiled at him, with that smile that made the nerves along his spine tingle uncomfortably. That sparkling feeling was the opposite of nice.

She threaded her fingers together under her chin and waited. It felt a little bit like the entire library was waiting with her; like the warm, dark cedarwood walls were perking their ears too, waiting to soak up his words and store it in their knots and twists. The lamps and candles cast their glow expectantly, the leather-bound tomes held their covers shut in curiosity.

"Perhaps," Albedo ignored the burning pressure in his chest, and acted like he only felt his heart's every other beat, "I overreacted. However, I still don't think that hydromancy is as accurate as she claims is to be. Most methods of divination are too obscure and therefore unreliable."

"Mhm."

It was no wonder, really, that Lisa didn't believe him. His reaction was entirely unwarranted. And yet, even just thinking about it…

Your stars are strangely still. Stagnation is difficult to read, however, I can see one thing clearly; loved ones drifting further and further away, despite hope for their return. That much is quite obvious, a novice could deduce it, really…

He never held ill thoughts towards astrology. He's had many fascinating conversations with Mona during the years he's been in Mondstadt; she knew a lot about celestial bodies, perhaps more than Albedo himself, and her insistence on the existence of 'fate' was something he could agree to disagree with. Which is why it was so strange, that when she tried to read his future, instead of the usual casual indifference, warm, burning anger ignited within him. He didn't understand it. He didn't know where it came from, or for what reason.

He didn't know how to stop it, either.

He suspected that Lisa knew the answers to all those questions. She was wearing that one particular smirk of hers.

Rather than bear that all-knowing grin much longer, he moved on. "Anyways. Could I have the journals I asked about?"

For a long moment, she just looked at him, waiting, but then sighed when it became clear that Albedo was done with the subject. Still, it was the kind of sigh that told him that the witch was still very much scheming. Big, loud, filling both lungs to the brim. She even pouted to bring out the full effect.

"Oh, I'm so clumsy. I think I accidentally sent it up with some papers to the Cavalry Captain's office! So silly of me." Her self-satisfied grin matched said Cavalry Captain's perfectly. "I hope you don't mint having to stop by…"

Albedo wondered what she hoped to get out of getting him and Kaeya in the same room together. She was teasing him, definitely. But it wasn't the first time that her subtle swipes left him unaffected.

Not to mention that his meetings with Kaeya have been helping. Chatting with him out on the streets, letting Klee bribe him into another afternoon snack, bumping into each other outside the city walls; those occasions made him forget about the cold, searching feeling in his chest. He was even planing to ask the man for another spar when his arm fully recovered, see if the extortion would suppress the feeling even more.

"I will do that then." He ignored the tingling of nerves in his neck as emerald eyes bore into him. She thought she had him in one of her traps. He didn't particularly care. "Have a good day."

"May Barbatos be with you!" she lilted, not so subtly adding a two at the end, in a barely hushed tone.

Albedo was ascending the stairs from the basement, hands full of folders ready to weigh down the Grand Master's table, when he heard the noise. It was a loud, crackling rumble; a sound few things in this world could make. Thunder in Inazuma, the creaking of glaciers in Sneznaya. Certain, highly destructive explosions.

He knew those last ones all too well.

The entry hallway echoed with his steps as he made his way to the door. He had an unexplainable, dreadful feeling about the noise. There had been many times before where Klee set off one of her bombs inside the city walls, but she's been seriously reprimanded for that habit, and has been keeping a good track record of keeping her explosives off of the island. Not to mention that she was supposed to be with Amber on Falcon Coast, terrorizing the wildlife there.

Exiting the Headquarters building, Albedo was hoping to discover a different reason for the noise. A sudden storm perhaps, or a particularly mischievous kid discovering how not to trap an anemo slime in a bottle.

What he found instead was a thick, black stack of smoke clouding the sky towards the northwest gate, it's wisps lit from underneath with reds and oranges.

It felt as if a stone suddenly appeared in his lungs, and dragged them down into the pit of his stomach. As if an entire mountain of snow was resting on his shoulders. The smoke was rising from the exact location of Klee's personal workshop. The workshop was a parting gift of sorts from Alice; she's always encouraged her daughter's thirst for knowledge, dissuaded not by it focusing on explosives. The small building was meant to serve as a safe place for Klee to concoct her experiments, and she was not allowed to visit it without an adult's supervision. But now, the peaked red roof was nowhere to be seen, and debris littered the nearby rooftiles. Only a moment passed, and the flames were rising already.

Folders scattered across the cobblestones as Albedo dashed towards the building. Horrible images flashed in his mind of a small, burnt body, trapped underneath the scorched rubble. It took him thirteen seconds to rush down the stairs towards the main square. Four more to make a shortcut between the houses; he could hear the commotion already, the crackling of flames, the shouting of people. He could see the fire, too. Six more seconds to reach the building, to leap across the fallen pieces of the roof, to push past Huffman as he was trying to stop him from diving into the building.

Smoke poured into his mouth as he screamed, "Klee!" He pushed his way past the foyer, deafened by the roaring fire, uncaring for the bitter ache in his throat. The main lab was to the left, but its entrance was blocked by collapsed shelves and other debris. He kicked into them, but they budged only slightly. "Klee! Where are you?"

There was no reply. No movement, other than falling mortar and splintering beams, all covered in a haze of orange from the flames.

No. It couldn't have… There was no way. He pushed Khemia into the rubble, into the walls, the floor, into the air thick with smoke. Through the pulse of dizzying, nauseous power, he sensed a small body inside the room, its heart still beating, lungs still drawing in oxygen. He could hear the coughing now, too.

"Klee! I'm coming!" The debris blocking his way disintegrated at his mere thought of it. He swallowed down the Art when it almost took a chunk of the floor with it. His way was clear now; that's all that mattered.

More coughing, almost drowned out by the crackling of the flames. He stepped into the room just as a faint voice called, "B… bedo?"

He kicked an upturned table out of the way, and finally, finally spotted Klee. She was kneeling on the ground, soot stained and coloured red, but alive. Albedo fell next to her, knees cracking, and reached for her, patting her face and arms and legs for injuries.

"Klee, are you alright? Are you hurt? Can you stand, we need to get you out of here!" Nothing of hers felt broken, nothing lay at a wrong angle. She didn't seem to be bleeding either, her biggest injury a scrape on her chin, but everything was doused in the red of fire so he couldn't really be sure.

He was about to pick her up when she slowly reached her hands out, palms closed, as if holding something. She didn't look scared, more just spooked; she stared up at Albedo with a wobbly smile. She slowly unfolded her hands. In her palm lay a jewel, round and red, that Albedo was all too familiar with.

Klee lifted the vision up to his face, as if he wouldn't have noticed it otherwise. "Big brother, look!"

Albedo didn't know wether to cry or to laugh. A vision, in the hands of such a young child. Did she get it before or after the explosion?

No, this wasn't the time for pondering. A beam groaned above them, spitting more burning rubble onto their heads. Albedo gathered Klee against his chest with one swift swoop, uncaring of her yelp, and stood. "Come on. And close your eyes!"

He ducked under collapsed shelves and fallen beams, and darted to the exit. There was the sound of splashing water, and the faint chill of ice in the air, and then Albedo was out of the flames. In his periphery he saw the flashing of Kaeya's cape and the wobble of Mona's hat as they were working on extinguishing the fire, but he didn't care to stop. He carried Klee all the way to the fountain in the main square, uncaring for worried glances and flitting hands.

By the time she was sat down on the cold stone, the joy Albedo saw on her face inside the burning remains of the workshop was replaced by anxiousness.

He took the chance to look her over once more, no longer obscured by the smoke. He could now see the red of first degree burns on her hands and on her cheeks, and more scrapes on her palms and forearms from when the explosion threw her. She sniffled as he took her hands, one by one, and dabbed at them with the corner of his labcoat that he dunked in the water.

"Tell me if it hurts, okay?" He brushed the cloth gently along her palms, cleaning away soot and dust. It only now occurred to him that his heart's been hammering away in his chest, drumming a beat of terror. Only now was it quieting down.

Klee didn't say a single word. Albedo glanced up at her when she stayed quiet for too long; it wasn't like her to sit in silence.

She was glancing around the square, back towards the lab, eyes flitting between the side streets and towards the main gate. Searching. With every passing second, the tears gathering in her eyes grew heavier, until they rolled down the face one by one.

She didn't look in pain, which only made that cold feeling in Albedo worsen. He gently took her shoulder.

"Klee, what's wrong?"

She craned her head, looking over his shoulder. Then, clearly not finding what she was searching for, she looked back at Albedo.

"She's not here." Her lips wobbled, and more tears fell into her lap. "It was such a big boom, and I even got a vision! Why isn't Mom here?"

Her voice cracked as the sobs finally found their way up from her chest, and Albedo felt like his heart was cracking along with it too. That same cold, aching feeling shone in her eyes that he's felt for the past nine weeks, that strange, subtle, gnawing emptiness. The bite he felt between his ribs whenever he turned around in their house, wanting to share a story with Alice, only to find nothing where she used to stand.

How long has she been feeling like this? Did Albedo really not notice?

No, he did. All her questions about Alice visiting, all the times she showed a drawing to him and then asked will Mom like it? All the times she spent staring out the window at breakfast, down the street towards the gates. Albedo just thought that this was like all the other times Alice left for a month or two.

But clearly, he was wrong. And there was a terrible, bitter taste on his tongue from the thought that he let Klee down like this.

He gathered her up and held her against his chest as tightly as he dared to. "Oh, Klee…"

"I miss her so much," she cried. Her hands found their way onto Albedo's shoulders, grabbed onto his coat desperately. "She should be home! Why isn't she?"

It was as if all her tears gathered in Albedo's throat. He should've known, he should've done better, he shouldn't have been caught up in his own feelings. Suddenly, he doubted his ability to give any response. Instead he just stroked her little sister's back, and held her close, and hoped that it would be enough, even if just for a moment.

"I know you miss her too," she mumbled into his collar. "She doesn't love us anymore?"

"No, Klee. She… she loves us very much. She just has some important things she needs to handle."

Objectively, he knew he was telling the truth. It didn't make it hurt less. And Klee, wise little witch she was, saw right through it. She pulled back just enough that she could look Albedo in the eyes, pools of brilliant red shining with tears. Her voice was barely above a whisper.

"What's more important than us?"

Nothing. Albedo couldn't bring himself to say it. Not when he spent his entire existence chasing something larger than the world itself, incomprehensible and all-encompassing. He wanted nothing more, he craved it so bad, to be able to tell Klee that Alice was going to be home, and she was never going to leave her ever again. That she would never be without family. That she would always be loved. It just wasn't true.

But he wanted it to be. And really, would it have been all that hard to make it come true? With four centuries behind his back and a palm's worth of knowledge from the sea of Teyvat's secrets, was he not able to make this one thing happen? Nothing was making him leave. Nothing could, as long as he could mold the world in his hands like clay.

He wiped the tears off of Klee's face, and let the moisture gather in his hands. He needed only a moment of focus, and a glowing, red crystalfly fluttered up from between his fingers. His sister giggled at the sight, wet and quiet but happy, reaching after it when it lifted above their heads, and the noise made that painful gap in Albedo's chest close a little.

"Another one!" she pleaded, her pout now underlined with mischief in the place of sorrow.

"Come on." Albedo helped her off the ledge of the fountain, and took her hand. "Let's go home first."

"But will you make more at home?"

"Anything you want, Klee."

Chapter Text

If half a year ago someone had come up to Kaeya, and told him that he was going to be visiting the Chief Alchemist of his own volition, and in a friendly manner at that, he would've laughed in their face. And, because he was never a good person to begin with, he would've asked Rosaria to win even their shoe off of them in a game of cards, when they eventually found their way to Angel's Share. Perhaps he would've even hinted some crumbs of information to the few Treasure Hoarders he let operate near the city, about an easy target they could free of their - remaining - mora. Six months ago, feeling anything other than dread when it came to Albedo was an unthinkable thought. The mere suggestion would've been a big enough bone his paranoia would chew on for weeks.

Now, on a murky autumn morning, he was trudging down the cold stone steps leading to the cellar of the Favonius Headquarters completely willingly. The echoes fluttering up from underneath his feet laughed at him, but only a little. He was here on official business, after all.

He knocked on the dark cedarwood door, the neatly carved plaque of Chief Alchemist, Captain of the Investigative Team now only accompanied by a smaller sign reading Assisting Alchemist Sucrose. It was only last week that Timaeus decided to take up residency in the small alchemy shop in the main square. Kaeya knew that Sucrose would've had the chance to leave, too, to establish herself on her own, but he wasn't surprised that she chose to stay in the basement instead, where people visited rarely.

A moment later there was a noise from inside that one could've interpreted as Come in! Kaeya didn't need to be asked twice.

He's only been in the Knights' laboratory a handful of times. Neither did he have the need, nor the urge to enter Albedo's home turf. There had been a few times where he had to find the man, and the lucky spot was the lab, or when he had to pick one of his concoctions up himself. Many of his cadets complained about the laboratory; they said it was creepy, with jars and bottles full of all sorts of unsettling things, they whispered that the Chief Alchemist was a cold and indifferent man, and perhaps a little too smart, too. A few of them gossiped about strange experiments and forbidden magics. And while all of that sounded more than plausible to Kaeya, he never shared the sour superstitions of his men, and since then shed the fluffy fur of fear as well.

Like a witch with his cauldron, Albedo was at the back of the lab, bent over one of the many alchemy tables placed in the room. He didn't even spare a glance at Kaeya, too focused on drawing line after line on the workbench with a white stick of chalk. The only split of his attention was dedicated to the open notebook on his left.

"Good morning!" Kaeya sauntered into the middle of the maze that the desks and shelves of the lab turned into. There were stacks of papers and books, liquids bubbling away in complicated glass frames, containers of strange and unfamiliar materials piled up in organized chaos. The only noticeably tidy space was one of the corners, with a child sized desk and chair, and an arrangement of crayons and toys. Klee had always spent a lot of time in the Headquarters building, with Alice being out of town so often, but she's been practically glued to Albedo's side ever since she got her vision. Kaeya couldn't blame either her or the alchemist for it. "I see you don't have your little assistant with you today."

Albedo straightened a little, and turned around. There was a glint in his eyes, like the first rays of sun on a foggy morning. "Oh, Kaeya! Good morning." He gestured to the only chair of three that had a free sitting surface. "Take a seat, I need a few more moments to finish this. Klee is spending the morning with Fischl and Bennet on the Springwood shore."

"Has she picked up any of Fischl's phrases yet?"

"No, thankfully. The last thing I need is having her speak in rhymes and words she doesn't understand."

Instead of taking the offered seat, Kaeya walked over to Albedo. Curiosity was always one of his vices. He stepped behind the man, ignored the urge to lean closer and feel the strands of messy hair brush against his cheek, and peered over his shoulder onto the alchemy table. "What are you-"

His words stayed in the warm safety of his tongue when he saw the pale, twitching thing on the desk. It looked organic, like a thick petal, with icy blue veins casting a spiderweb onto its skin. Frost was slowly creeping onto the stone around it as it shuddered.

Uncaring of just how much this looked like forbidden magic, Albedo kept drawing. While his hold on the chalk was delicate, his lines were even and precise, hands steadied by years of experience. The marks of chalk extended from the lines carved into the surface of the table, keeping the three-pointed symmetry consistent, and steering clear of the wriggling-range of the… thing.

"Could you hand me the phlogiston pearls?"

The alchemist's voice shook Kaeya out of his staring. He turned towards the desk the man was pointing at, clueless at the sight of a dozen glass containers hastily piled together. "The phlogiston pearls?"

"Yes. Blue and orange crystals in a medium-sized jar." Kaeya reached for the jar of the round, colourful stones. It was surprisingly warm to the touch, almost too hot to keep in one's hand for long.

"Here you go. What are they for?"

Having drawn the final line, Albedo placed the chalk to the side. "I'm testing the strength of Dragonspine's frost. While the weather itself is limited to the area of the mountain, the way it alters specific lifeforms isn't. I want to see if I can remove its influence." He picked two pearls from the jar, weighed them on a delicate set of scales, and placed them on the alchemy bench. He scribbled some words into his notebook, then flattened his palms against the sides of the table. "Step back, please."

There was a moment, where a wave of confidence washed over Albedo's features, the kind one wears when they know they are bending the world to their will. It gilded him, in a strange and ethereal sort of way, not as if he was made of gold, but as if he was more than human, more than a lowly creature of the earth. Which, Kaeya supposed, he was. It made his heart stumble over its beat anyways.

He had to look away from the yellow flash of light when the alchemy table activated; next time he opened his eye, the piece of… whatever Albedo was experimenting on lay limp and lifeless.

Albedo observed it in silence for a second, and only made his notes once he confirmed that it was indeed dead. If death even applied to it. Kaeya had half the mind to ask, and the wisdom to keep his sanity intact instead.

His hopes of moving to a different topic of discussion, perhaps even the one that took him down here in the first place, were shattered when the alchemist kept tinkering with the strange piece of now unmoving organic matter. He weighed it, touched it, licked it, even, cut a tiny, paperthin sliver off it and observed it through a magnifying glass, and conducted at least half a dozen other scientifically proper observations that Kaeya had little clue about. He flitted around the laboratory, a bee harvesting nectar for the sweet honey of knowledge. Absentmindedly, he explained things to Kaeya.

"Some of the whopperflowers on Dragonspine have been exhibiting unusually high levels of cryo energy. I caught one recently and studied it in my lab up there, but the influence of the constant frost made it difficult to control the experiments. While I'm mostly certain that the storm and the cold are divine in nature, I don't exactly have concrete evidence for it. I wanted to see what could break through the strong cryo energy infused into it, and also test if the cryo infusion lasts indefinitely once strong enough exposure commenced."

Most of those words, Kaeya understood. He decided to move to the chair Albedo offered up to him before he got under the man's feet.

"Phlogiston," the alchemist continued, "is a strong and ancient source of pyro, and to my knowledge isn't connected to Celestia. I hypothesised that it could break through the cryo aura, and I was right. Now I have to conduct this experiment with varying amounts of phlogiston used, potentially find the tipping point where it no longer breaks the aura, and-" he stopped, in the middle of a breath. He put down the glass flask he was holding, and turned to Kaeya, as if he was worth leaving his experiment in half for. "I apologize. I got carried away, this is not why you're here."

There was the tiniest stutter of uncertainty in the way he dusted his hands off. The corner of his lips turned downward ever so slightly, half of a pout, all of an apology. Kaeya's never seen someone with such smooth lips.

Why was he making that observation?

"It's no bother," he smiled, easy and warm like butter melting in a pan. It came from muscle memory; something to hide behind to avoid any questions. "Dare I say it's a privilege to gain such glimpses into your experiments. I'm sure many of the scholars from the Akademiya would fight for a chance like this."

Albedo groaned, and made his way over to Kaeya. "Don't remind me. I have so many letters to answer… Most of them aren't even reaching out for the sake of scientific discussion, they just want someone supporting their thesis. Rtawahist students should really stop contacting me, I doubt I would even be eligible to endorse their work."

"It's a tough job, being a genius."

"I'm no genius. I'm just dedicated. And older than most of them."

"Time a genius makes." Kaeya found that his grin, that before was more instinct than deliberation, was now turning into something honest, something that just happened sometimes. Like how one felt at ease when the weather was good, or delighted over a thoughtful gift. Albedo made him smile. Which would've been a terrifying thought three months ago. Stars above, it still was, a little bit.

Even scarier, Albedo returned the smile with one of his own, the kind that rounded his cheek out and pushed a dimple into his skin. The kind that captured Kaeya's attention in a way that nothing has in a long, long time.

"You flatter me." The alchemist leaned on the table. "So, what can I do for you?"

The ringing of blades echoed across the courtyard, once, twice. A slight drizzle made the early hours of morning even darker, damper, and colder than they already were to begin with. White puffs of breath filled up the space between Emma and Kaeya, as they circled each other, their swords at the ready.

Emma struck first. A standard feint, the kind they both knew Kaeya will recognize. A strike to his right that he parried, then another, with enough force that it made him stumble and retreat to a safe distance. Emma laughed; Kaeya snarled.

He'd still not recovered from the injury he got during that Dragonspine outing. While the wound was mostly healed, the weeks he had to spend without practicing drills took a noticeable toll on his swordsmanship. He knew recovery was far from over, but he felt like he couldn't afford to fall behind any longer. He wasn't the Cavalry Captain for nothing. His men needed him.

Fortunately for him, Emma was willing to spar with him even now. She respected him enough to let him make his bad decisions; a trait he sorely missed in Jean at times like this. She didn't respect him enough not to hackle him for his shortcomings, though.

"Maybe you ought to retire, Captain!" Emma twirled her sword in her hand, her black hair splayed across her shoulders like a crow's messy wings. "It seems like you aren't quite up to speed anymore."

"Eyes as sharp as a butterfly's, my dear Emma. I do hope you keep underestimating me."

He swiped towards her legs, and manage to drive her back with a few well-placed strikes. Parry, strike, parry; he was just quick enough to keep up with the woman.

"Underestimate? I'm not sure you know what that word means!"

Kaeya switched his sword into his right hand; Emma did the same. Not for the first time, he was proud to have such a dedicated second-in-command. They exchanged blows again, each strike building the ache in Kaeya's arm. He knew he only had minutes until Emma overwhelmed him, but how was he going to get better if he didn't push at his limits? Steel rang against steel, the rhythm of it mixing with their panting and the beat of blood in his ear, turning into a tired, lackluster melody.

Emma pushed against his blade, and his arm buckled under the force of it. He grit his teeth, but his sword was pushed to the side, and Emma tapped the tip of her blade against his chest.

"Got you," she sang, as out of breath as Kaeya.

"Heh. It's the least I expect from you." He sheathed his sword. "I hope to see this liveliness during today's drills, too!"

She just laughed, and took to his side as he started walking towards the main building. "We have drills today? I thought you were busy spending time with another Captain."

"Another Captain?" There was a horrible, burning inkling in Kaeya's mind about what Emma meant.

"The Chief Alchemist!" She clapped him on the shoulder, grinning like a cat who just got the mouse trapped in the cream. "You've been spending an awful lot of time with him lately. Can we expect some new improvements coming to the Cavalry's gear?"

The wind never stopped blowing in Mondstadt. It carried many things on its back; rain, warm weather, hopes and dreams encased in dandelion seeds. Gossip, too. And it seemed that some people had sharper ears - and eyes - than Kaeya had expected.

Not that there was anything to see, of course. Because it would've been silly if Kaeya had perked up whenever Albedo entered a room. It would've been stupid if he had been looking forward to the occasions when he would come pick up Klee from his office. It would've been so, so very foolish of him to even think about acknowledging such occurrences, considering the fact that just four months ago he thought Albedo was going to be the death of him.

He grinned back at Emma, slippery like a rain-slicked step. "I think you ought to learn what gossip to give weight to. Lest you believe too many things that aren't true. But," he leaned closer, "if you feel like our equipment is lacking, you are always welcome to submit a complaint. I'm sure that if need be, we could borrow some things from the other companies. The Reconnaissance Team, perhaps! Sir Eula is actually quite nice if you ignore her threats of vengeance."

No matter how sneaky she got, Emma was never going to beat him in a game of backstabbing. And oh, did he also have his ears open for gossip, especially when it concerned his second-in-command sneaking into alleyways with none other than Eula Lawrence. It wasn't only injuries in combat that he felt the need to protect his men from.

Emma slowly withdrew her hand from his shoulder. The morning murkiness did little to hide the pink suddenly dusting her cheek. "Ahem. Noted, Captain Kaeya."

"Daisy fleabane."

"Mhm."

"It's biannual and technically edible, although I find its flavour quite undesirable. And this," Albedo picked at a long stalk of vibrant, purple flowers, "is wild sage. Excellent as a subtle spice, and its smoke is thought to cleanse evil."

"And?" Kaeya took the offered flowers. "Does it?"

"Not to my knowledge, no."

He weaved the stems into Finch's mane, adding to the array of wildflowers decorating her tidy braid. She was content enough to let him pamper her, enjoying the warm sunshine and fresh grass while she could. She seemed to know just as well as Kaeya, that the warm days of autumn were coming to a close. It's why he took her out on this impromptu ride; to let her stretch her legs once more before she would be confined to the closed stalls of the stables for four months.

Albedo, as usual, found his way into their path. Kaeya found him with his easel set up by the great oak of Windrise, painting the wisps of sunshine breaking through the still full canopy. Did you know? Oaks keep their dead leaves until spring, is how the man greeted him. Kaeya just smiled, rather than say Did you know? You look like a painting, too.

Of course, he didn't stick around. He was a fox, after all, holding onto the illusion of his independence with aching teeth. Finch and him rode around the grassy plains, out onto the sands of Falcon Coast, even braving the southern ruins scattered around the Thousand Winds Temple. It wasn't his fault that the road back to the city led right by the great tree. And who was he, to deny the last taste of fresh grass from his steed, when she worked so hard for him all the time? A break was acceptable. Spending it with Albedo was pure coincidence.

"Is every Cavalry Captain this fond of their horse?"

Kaeya glanced back over his shoulder. Wide, shining teal eyes found his, a bottomless well of curiosity.

He turned back to Finch, before the depths beckoned him too close. "Not sure. I don't know much about my predecessor's habits."

"Sir Diluc? I heard you were raised together."

Like a dry, dead leaf splits off its branch, Kaeya's hand fell from Finch's mane. For a moment, he recalled the patrol rides his- Diluc led, when they were barely old enough to grow a beard. The drills, their companions, late nights spent in the courtyard and early mornings rushing through the stables.

Has it really been three years already?

"Oh, him! No, I meant the one before. Diluc's captaincy was rather short, I tend to forget it ever happened."

"But he was your friend, at the very least, no?"

"Curious, how all things come to pass." He felt like ice was growing inside his throat. It sharpened his tongue, and cut jagged edges onto his words.

Maybe this was the payment for the past few weeks. Nothing ever came for free, least of all the peace and contentment he'd been feeling since that dreadful outing to Dragonspine. Crowns, even nonexistent ones, seemed to weigh heavy; if not the head, then the heart.

He shut his mouth before he could spit any more ugly things up, locked his teeth together before they could bite at things he didn't want gnawed on. Thankfully, Albedo kept from prying further. He stayed silent, and when Kaeya turned to him once more, he was holding a fistful of flowers up for him.

It shouldn't have eased the hurt in Kaeya's chest, such a simple apology. And yet.

"All things considered, I had few to learn from." He slipped another stalk of sage into Finch's mane. "Luckily, there wasn't a lot to learn. Anyone with a good head on their shoulders could do this job."

"I doubt they would do it as well as you, though."

He scoffed, but couldn't bite back his grin, not when it always brought a smile to Albedo's lips. "You've become quite the charmer, Sir Albedo! Careful, if you keep it up, the old ladies in the city will start asking about when you will marry."

"Speaking from experience?"

"Of course!" He wasn't gonna let Albedo see that a hare hid under the fur of the fox. "Do you not think me charming enough to earn the favour of old ladies?"

Like a spooked pheasant fleeing, Albedo averted his eyes, and mumbled something to the bunch of flowers still held in his hand. Had Kaeya been listening, he might've heard of course I do. But he wasn't, just like he wasn't thinking about how the alchemist would likely be blushing right now, had he had the blood for it. Just how he wasn't thinking about how pretty he would've looked, with pink dusting his cheeks, or Celestia forbid, the tips of his ears.

There was a sharp tug of pain at the back of his head. He hissed and pulled his ponytail out of Finch's mouth, rewarding her insolence with a glare he knew was of no use. The mare just snickered, and pushed her nose against his face. Kaeya petted the velvety skin until she was satisfied with the attention, and ignored the terrible feeling in his stomach that Finch knew perfectly well what lie he was trying to swallow, and was already laughing at him, knowing he would fail.

But he was a stubborn fool. Even on their way back to the city, with Albedo walking by his side and talking about the troubles of his latest experiments, Kaeya did his best to snuff out the candle of fondness that's been lit in his chest. He refused to think about how cute the alchemist looked with a yellow leaf stuck in his hair, and held himself back from reaching over and picking it out himself. He didn't imagine what it would feel like to touch the soft skin of his palm, to trace the creases Gold took the time to carve into him.

It was insane, to even think about entertaining these thought. Because he wasn't the kind of man who deserved more than a quick night with an unknown face in a nameless inn. Because less than a year ago he held a blade to Albedo's neck, and would've rent the flesh if he had the chance. Because he carried a coffin big enough for a nation in his heart, one that was to be his own as well one day, and he was terrified that the two of them would put the entire world in it instead.

There's nothing to worry about, he decided, as he was pulling the comb through Finch's mane back in the stables, freeing her from the last bits of tangled wildflowers. He wasn't going to catch feelings for any Chief Alchemist, least of all one that was a khaenri'ahn homunculus. He was going to do his job, train Emma to take his place if his past ever caught up to him, and live as many days of his worthless life as he had left, just like he's been doing for the last decade. Simple as that.

Finch snorted half in sympathy, half in exasperation when he buried his face in her neck with a groan.

"Oh, love…" He pet her gently, and let her soft fur swallow his words. "I'm afraid I may not be able to pull this lie off."