Archive of Our Own

Cavalry Captain Kaeya Alberich was not religious. During his childhood, Crepus had always taken them to church, and Kaeya suspected it was because the man secretly thought that if he went enough that he would get a vision. Kaeya sometimes wondered if he would, too. Normally now though, he avoided the Cathedral of Mondstadt like the plague, both because he didn’t appreciate being sent to Barbara whenever he could heal himself and also because he hated the reminder of his former family. Though, it was mostly the latter, even though nobody knew that. And yet, when faced with the news that Diluc was coming back, especially so close to his birthday, Kaeya couldn’t help himself. Maybe Crepus had been right, all of those years ago — prayer really did fix all of the troubles in the world. 

“May Barbatos’ gentle wind be with you,” one of the sisters greeted, quiet and kind as always. Her name was Jilliana, and she was someone Kaeya recognized from all of the times he had been in the church infirmary for extended stay. “Are we on a house call today?” 

It was common knowledge within the sisters that he only showed up conscious for commissions or to request medical house calls. Today, though, this was not the case. 

“I’m here for personal reasons,” was all Kaeya said. 

She stepped over, grabbing his clothes with urgency. “Where are you hurt? Barbara is with a patient at the moment, but we can have you looked after shortly. For now, take a seat. It must be hard to stand.” 

Kaeya knew there was a raggedness about him that was normal, and that the rumors said he was especially good at hiding injury, but he didn’t feel as though he had come in warranting any level of pat down from a nun. 

He shook his head. “I’m here to pray.” 

“Well that’s certainly—” The look on her face reminded him of bandits who were caught in lies. Jilliana cleared her throat. “Will you be needing a prayer card today?” 

There was no surprise to his response. “Yes, I’m afraid it’s been quite a while.” 

In all honesty, Kaeya had never actually prayed before. Despite the fact that Crepus had taken him and Diluc to church constantly, him being the filthy spy he was, he had never actually felt the need to. He doubted any archon would really and truly give them his blessing, as a filthy spy for Khaenri'ah, especially not the archon of the place where he’d been planted. And, even though he had been given a vision, and was long past wanting to ever betray Mond, there was still a part of him that despised the church, once again because it reminded him of his brother. But, since Diluc was coming back, Kaeya figured it might be worth a try. 

The nun returned, and warily thrusted the card at him. “This is for beginners. We will move you up to a more difficult one, should you return.” 

“May the wind be with you,” Kaeya returned, remembering the phrase from church in the olden days. 

This made Jilliana smile, despite the hostility and confusion. “And with your spirit.” 

He ignored the stares that he continued to get, and looked for a seat within the cathedral. Taking the last row of pews, mostly due to his own embarrassment, Kaeya sat down. Was his reputation around town so unholy that it deserved the level of hostility he was getting? Yes, he was at the bar a lot but that didn’t necessarily mean that he was there for the wrong reasons. Sure, he lied a lot too, and made people occasionally want to tear out their hair, but he had been kind. He did his best to help grandmas and kids, and look after a group of knights that he could be kicked out of at any point. It was all because at least until Diluc got back, this was his home. Which was why, right now he had to do this. 

Warmth of the sun, filtered and colored from stained glass windows, set Kaeya at ease as he grasped the prayer card in his hand. Once upon a time, when things had been fine, he’d had his own. Crepus had painted a pair of them for Kaeya and Diluc — one red and one blue after their favorite colors — and had told them to hang on to them. Kaeya had treated his card with utmost respect, despite his non-belief, keeping it on the windowsill next to his bed, displayed so he could see it every night. When he and Diluc joined the knights, it stayed with the few of his personal possessions that came with him. The only reason he didn’t have it on him now, was that he had lost it on that night oh so long ago, when Diluc’s fire had burned the very bridge between the two of them, which was regrettable. It was the first gift Crepus had ever made for him, after all.

“Anemo archon, the wind of Mondstadt, forever be thy reign,” Kaeya muttered, beginning the prayer. He had never really understood what in the world it had meant, especially since he had left the city ages ago. “May your winds hold us and guide us, and be ever with us…” 

Every word felt like sandpaper rubbing against his mouth. A good part of him wondered if Barbatos actually heard any of it, and just laughed. He wondered how the nuns could take everything they were saying seriously. Yes, the archons seemed to be the ones handing out the visions. But did it require this level of reverence? Kaeya figured it probably was just a bunch of lies written together to make people feel secure. Nonetheless, though, he read them, trying to do his best to believe in them for once. Crepus, back when things were alright, had always told them to start their personal prayers with one of the church ones. 

Finished, Kaeya clutched the vision in his hand, and as quiet as he could whispered, “Please, Barbatos. Take it back.” 

It was a simple request, the simplest one he could muster, but also the most important, and the only one he would ever need to come pray for. Kaeya was sure that Diluc still hated him, and the sight of him being a successful cavalry captain with a vision? It would only make things worse. Kaeya, against all of his better judgment had built a life in Mondstadt, and he was sure that now Diluc was back to end that. He had finished the most urgent task — taking care of his father’s death, and now was here to do the next one — to get rid of him. His intel had told him that Diluc was bitter, angry, and anywhere he stopped the people around him could tell he was filled with resentment. Which, of course, Kaeya knew there was only one person left who could leave that ire within him. 

But maybe, just maybe, if Kaeya left visionless, things would be alright. He wouldn’t be a threat, and now that the knights were finally reorganized, he wouldn’t be in Diluc’s position. Kaeya would be able to leave for somewhere else, like Liyue or Inazuma, and find peace. He wouldn’t have many savings, since most of those were spent on the town, but he would have enough to start a business. And then, as he knew, he was pretty enough and good enough with words to maintain one. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could even find a way to become a mercenary and fight. 

However, the archons had no plans to leave Kaeya off easy. Despite his quiet pleadings, the vision still stayed in his hands, shining brighter than ever for a moment. Inside he cursed the world for leaving him in a situation where he was afraid to see the person he both cherished and was most scared of, the very person who had made the blasted element of cryo flow through his veins. It killed him inside to know that even though he had stooped so low as to go to church, nothing was to be done. 

“Some archon you are,” he hissed under his breath. “I don’t belong to you. You made a mistake. Take it back. Mondstadt is not my home.” 

Kaeya stood, suppressing his urge to throw the prayer card. Of course it was a stupid idea to go to church. The archons had never done anything for Crepus. Even when the man was willing to risk his life, to use something that should have never been used to protect his son and protect the city, they hadn’t granted him a vision. Crepus had wanted to be a knight for years and had spent forever doing everything in his power to protect Mond, he even came to church every week with both him and Diluc, and yet he had never seen anything for his efforts. It disgusted Kaeya. Why had he expected anything when someone so loyal had been scorned? 

“You were not at prayer long,” Jilliana remarked as Kaeya returned the card to her. “I hope it was fruitful.” 

He shook his head and held back a hiss. “Thank you for your time.” 

The nun took the card from him with a sad look in her eyes, and for a moment, he feared that she had heard his words. As stupid as it was, there was a saying that Barbatos could hear everything on the wind, so all prayer had to be said aloud. Kaeya just thought it was nonsense, as everything that happened in Favonius Cathedral was. 

As he turned to go, he heard the voice of the nun behind him. 

“Sir Kaeya,” she begged, “please don’t give up. Though your prayers are not being answered now, Barbatos will always hear you, and will do what he must when the time is right.” 

However, by the time she said that, Kaeya did his best to open the door, letting the wind sweep through the cathedral. A gust made its way to the organ at the sanctuary past the altar of the church. The notes from a song Crepus used to play for him and Diluc on the piano when they were kids, flowed on by, but by that point Kaeya was pretty much out the door. And, even if he did hear it, which he did, he could only scoff. It was only a coincidence, after all. 

<><><>

Almost immediately after his visit to church occured, Kaeya was forced to forget about it. Vision or no vision, he needed to find his way out of Mondstadt as soon as possible. Somehow, in some stupidly impossible Diluc way, the man managed to make friends with a pirate from Liyue who not only agreed to sail him out of Snzehaya, but drop him off at the Falcon Coast. That, of course, wouldn’t have been too much of a problem, if there hadn’t also been a freak storm which was causing the wind to flow straight down the coasts of Mondstdt. 

If Kaeya wanted to, he probably could’ve fled the city as soon as he had gotten word that Diluc was incoming faster than he expected. But that would’ve been incredibly selfish. There were a number of procedures that Kaeya had to clean up, as his departure would probably greatly inconvenience Jean, who relied on him heavily. In addition, a number of the knights were cleaning up after a windy day had sent litter all over the city, had caused a crash between alcohol carts for Cat’s Tail and Angel’s Share, and had swept produce all over the city. Things in Mond were a mess, and as much as he wanted to run from Diluc, out of thankfulness for the city’s acceptance over the last four years, he figured he could at least help them with that. All he had to do was avoid his ex-brother for a few days, and then he would be resigned and gone. 

Of course, that didn’t come easy either. Kaeya thought he would be fine, since it seemed like for the most part Diluc was staying to the winery and Angel’s Share, so all he had to do was avoid any deliveries, refuse missions anywhere near Dawn Winery or Springvale, and stay away from Diluc on the one day he had to come into the Knights of Favonius headquarters. Which, of course, Kaeya figured shouldn’t have been too hard. After all, Diluc was going to stop by Jean’s office to deal with some paperwork regarding his estate, and he was going to leave. But, of course, for some reason the wind had other plans. 

As someone who liked being outdoors a lot more than in, since Crepus had quite literally had them outside almost every day when they were children, Kaeya tended to keep the windows to his office open. Because he’d been forced to keep his windows closed for the last few days, his office was too stuffy, and so despite the fear of anything else happening, because although Kaeya was not a religious man the coincidences were getting kind of scary, he needed to keep them open in order to breathe. 

Disaster struck in the form of a cute girl with too strong of a penchant for bombs and way too much admiraton for someone like him. Practically swinging the door off of its hinges, Klee came to visit Kaeya on a day when he really just needed to hide, screaming something about how a bunch of her treasures had flown off into the wind, and how she was going to catch it from Jean because the fishermen’s association was angry. It was in the moment that she opened the door that a wind tunnel was created, sucking all of the resignation forms he was filling out into the main room of the Knights of Favonius headquarters. 

“Big brother Kaeya!” Klee shouted, loud enough that Kaeya was sure everyone in the building could hear it. “You’re leaving? Without saying goodbye?” 

It was at that moment that the wails of the young girl attracted Jean, who looked pissed, because she had no doubt heard the commotion. Kaeya did his best to stay still as the acting grandmaster grabbed one of the forms off of the ground, anger growing palpable by the moment. She stayed deathly silent, like she did whenever trying to decide how to take care of any serious situation, glancing at Kaeya with what almost seemed to be bewilderment, and a bit of contempt. 

Jean repeated Klee’s question. “You’re leaving?” 

“Don’t worry,” said Kaeya, as smooth as could be. “I’ve been working on wrapping up all of my affairs before I do. You won’t have to worry about anything for a while after I’m gone.” 

“That’s not what—” the acting grandmaster began. 

However, once again the wind seemed to have some kind of grudge against Kaeya. Of all people, Diluc Ragnvindr decided to come through the front door of headquarters. And, of course, just like last time, the wind ripped Kaeya’s notice of resignation out of the hands of Jean and let it fly straight into the wine tycoon’s face. Kaeya watched for the most awkward moment of his life as said wine tycoon cycled between the letter of resignation and the vision on Kaeya’s hip. 

“Master Diluc, Acting Grandmaster,” Kaeya managed to spit out. “I would love to address you both about this unfortunate situation. However, there is currently another situation that I best be getting to the bottom of.” 

And, even though Kaeya was not religious, he ran to the church looking for answers nonetheless. 

<><><>

Bursting into the front doors of the church, Kaeya was not at all surprised to find sister Julliana there waiting for him. Who he was surprised to see, however, was Barabara, the Deaconess, talking to her. At his huffing and puffing, the two of them stopped their conversation, and he closed the distance between them. 

“Sir Kaeya, who needs help?” Barbara exclaimed. As the primer healer for Mond, these occurrences were all too common for the two of them. 

Sliding to a stop, he said, “Me!” 

Julliana, as expected, began her pat down. “Where does it hurt, Sir Kaeya? Barabara will see to it that you get medical attention immediately.” 

Waving away Julliana, he faced Barbara. “What the hell did you people do to me? The winds! They’re everywhere! Messing up all of my plans.” 

Both religious women looked at each other as he said that, no doubt having a private conversation without words. Kaeya stood there, tapping his foot. No doubt they were thinking about the fact that he had come to church recently and actually prayed. And then, out of nowhere, Julliana began to snicker into her hand, and Barbara followed her with a full on chuckle. All of which, Kaeya found less than amusing. 

“Sir Kaeya,” the Deaconess said in between snorts, “I’m afraid we’ve done nothing wrong. In fact, let us rejoice. It seems as though Lord Barbatos has answered your prayers.” 

All three parties stopped and stared at each other for a moment. Kaeya, in particular, stared down both the nun and Barabara. Rejoice? He was trying to leave the city, to get away from Diluc and the fact that his home was not here . And yet, these nuns were trying to tell him otherwise? 

Kaeya ripped his vision from his side in a moment of stress and thoughtlessness and shoved it in their faces. “Barbatos answered my prayers?” 

“I don’t know what you’re going through, but I do know this. Lord Barbatos doesn’t do anything without a reason,” Barbara corrected, holding Kaeya’s hands and moving the one with the vision down, “While this may be what you want, he knows better what you need. The wind hears everything, after all.” 

At that moment Kaeya felt like a wild animal. Rage tore through him with such force that he felt as though he were the owner of a pyro vision instead of cryo. What he needed was to get away. He didn’t need a bunch of nuns to tell him that the wind knew better about him than he did. Especially not after how the archon had treated his adoptive father. 

“Thank you for your time,” Kaeya said, not even bothering to hide the fact he was lying. He was sure they were used to this. 

Pushing through the door he was surprised to see Diluc and Jean, who had followed him to the church. Not even bothering with them he continued on his way, acting as if he was oblivious to the concern of the two of them. 

“Zealots,” he spat, the wind causing the spit to fly back against him. Without even turning back he lied and said. “Don’t worry, I’m not actually leaving. It was for an operation which is very much now ruined.” 

<><><>

The days that followed were torture. Despite vowing to himself that he needed to leave soon, the wind had other plans. The amount of outfits Kaeya had ruined from coffee and food flying out of his hands and spilling on his shirt, to the amount of drying laundry he’d lost was insane. Things went missing, doors in his house slammed, windows constantly rattled. Even the papers in his office constantly went flying. Ever since his visit to the church, it felt as though Lord Barbatos himself had a personal vendetta against Kaeya. Otherwise, why would the wind of Mondstadt seem to be targeting him and him alone?

All of the chaos, of course, made it impossible to leave. There were constantly things missing, either vital things for Jean or personal belongings of Kaeya’s he needed to take with him when he was gone. Of course, that wasn’t all, either. The strange winds were constant around Springvale and Dawn Winery, so, as the person with the most time on his hands, he found himself constantly having to do commissions in that area. Which of course, meant more of having to see Diluc much to Kaeya’s dismay. 

Despite their original encounter, in which Diluc had not gotten to say a word about Kaeya’s resignation, which of course, because it was Diluc and he wasn’t as easily fooled as Jean he knew it was real, their relationship acted as if that moment never existed. There was no sympathy for Kaeya, no questions about why. All that they did was snipe at each other, Diluc constantly asking when they were going to nip all of the problems happening around the winery in the bud. Which, of course, Kaeya couldn’t help but wonder when stupid Barbatos would stop torturing everyone in Mondstadt with the wind. 

Not that, of course, the nuns had anything useful to say about it. Despite his initial anger, and his frustration that the zealots, yes that was the only nickname he could really find fitting, kept telling him that this was a blessing, he kept going back to church. Kaeya, of course, still didn’t consider himself to be a religious man. But, if he could somehow pray his way out of this situation, he’d take it. Anything, truly anything to get the wind to stop. 

But, then there were the strange moments. It was said that the organ in the church was ever active, and on the wind itself the sound of a lyre was ever present. Mondstadt was constantly filled with music, soft tunes that were old and traditional, things that the people around him hummed to, wondering if it was a blessing from Lord Barbatos. Kaeya, however, knew every single thing that was played. They were snippets of lullabies, of sweet and short songs that Crepus used to sing while playing the piano, telling his boys that he loved them. 

One would think it would be a nice side effect of the turbulence in his life. These were things that used to calm Kaeya, and made him feel as though despite everything, he might have had a chance for a new home. And yet now they reminded Kaeya of his fight with Diluc, and just how much he missed how things used to be. He missed the fleeting feeling of family, of home, and cursed archons he hated it. It wasn’t right for him to want this as his home, especially when he’d been sent to destroy it. And so Kaeya did his best to ignore the music that surrounded him and instead focused on work. 

Work, however, was still difficult to focus on. Because of the way that the wind was constantly blowing around papers, Kaeya was so disorganized that they’d actually probably be in trouble if he didn’t have half of everything he’d filled out already memorized. Not that Klee helped, either. Still angry with him about the resignation letter, Kaeya found himself constantly having to defuse his office, since she’d decided to leave many of her little ‘treasures’ around. 

There were a lot of people since that day, who’d found out about Kaeya’s resignation ‘scheme’ and were not happy about it. He got anywhere from a mix of tears, terrified he might actually leave, to sneers, angry at him for pulling such a cruel trick on them. Noelle and some of the younger knights were blatantly avoiding him, Lisa had shocked him the last time he went into the library, and even Jean, who Kaeya was sure would understand, was uncharacteristically strict with him. 

When Kaeya said uncharacteristically strict, he meant it. Jean had been almost anal retentive about everything having to do with Kaeya since she found out about the letter. She’d demanded to know all of his routes, hear all of his schemes, and of all things she’d been the one to send him on missions to Dawn Winery despite knowing about the fact that he’d been kicked out. And, of course, as icing on the cake, every bit of anything he’d tried to hide from her usually ended up either blowing into her office by the ever cursed wind.

By the end of a week Kaeya was thoroughly worn out, more broke, and more miserable. Between fending off the knights and Diluc, and the non-helpfulness of the sisters, Kaeya found himself wanting to tear out his prized and treasured ponytail. It was so bad that one night, after being able to actually miraculously keep a bottle of Dawn Winery vintage on him, because for some reason the wind discriminated against the beautiful drinks Diona made at Cat’s Tail, Kaeya decided to get wasted and curse at the archon statue. 

“Screw you,” Kaeya at least hoped he said semi-coherently, while flipping the statue the bird. “You’re a hateful, stupid, wind.” 

The statue did nothing more but stare back, and all Kaeya wanted to do was shove a blast of cryo energy at its face. He wondered, he was drunk, but he had enough stamina to hopefully make it to the top of the statue in one piece. Then he could give it a taste of what it really deserved. However, before he could get around to the drunken plans that would most likely kill him, he was stopped. 

“Whoever said I was the wind itself?” Laughed a young boy, who was sitting in the hands of the archon statue. 

Kaeya, three sheets to the wind and willing to believe anyone was the archon that could hear him responded, “Those nuns always say it’s your stupid wind. Besides you’ve got that—got that—” He couldn’t find the words. “Stupid thing.” 

The green boy held up a lyre. “You mean this?” 

“Yes,” the cavalry captain hissed. “It never stops. I hear it all the freaking time. And people keep singing his—his songs for us!” 

Without even moving his fingers, from at least what Kaeya could see, the bard let the lyre drop down. Kaeya wanted to smash it, but in that moment, without even moving, the wind seemed to make the strings vibrate, playing Kaeya’s favorite lullaby. Without even meaning to, Kaeya dropped the lyre, at which point the young boy stirred up a great wind, floating it back up to his place on the statue. 

“What was the point of that?” he asked. 

As if for show, the young boy began to float in the air. “Sir Kaeya, the wind is mine, but I am not it. Sometimes, I control it, but other times I must let it do what it wishes. Please understand, Sir Kaeya, the wind is alive, ever moving and ever seeing. Perhaps, instead of cursing it away, you should hear what it has to say to you.” 

It was at that moment that drunkenness finally got the better of Kaeya, letting him pass out, the wind laying him soft on the ground as he did. 

<><><>

Hungover like he had never really been before, Kaeya found himself in the infirmary of the church. Sitting by his side, rather unamused, was the very woman of the church that Kaeya knew best how to fear — Rosaria. She was one of the few people in Mondstadt that had ever really been able to pierce through the veil, the carefully constructed throne of lies that Kaeya found himself having to maintain. And, she was one of the few people who had really and truly ever seen Kaeya drunk. 

“Passing out in front of the church is a new one, Sir Kaeya,” she began, blunt and straight to the point. “What were you doing there?” 

“Being devout,” was all Kaeya could respond. 

Rosaria snorted. “You’re as devout as the Fatui are allies to Mondstadt.” 

He glared at her, feeling the numbness in his limbs and the bitter gurgling of acid in his stomach. Despite what most people thought about hangovers, that the slowness in the head and the pounding of the temples was the worst, they were wrong. It was the urge to lay down, the way his stomach and body just didn’t quite feel right that was the worst. 

“You can ask the sisters,” Kaeya gritted his teeth. “I’ve been to church plenty.” 

She gave him more of a deadpan look than Diluc had ever even attempted to manage with him. “Of course, and I haven’t heard anything about that, like I haven’t heard anything about you trying to resign. Which, by the way, don’t even try to bullshit with me. I know you tried to resign.” 

The cavalry captain sighed. He knew he wouldn’t be able to lie his way out of this one. “Diluc is in town. It’s time to give him back his position.” 

“I knew it,” she hissed, and then taking her hand, she sweeped it across his face, smacking him as hard as possible, cryo coating her palm. “Who the fuck do you think you are?” 

Kaeya held his cheek, the pain biting and cold. “And who the fuck do you think you are? That hurt.” 

The nun continued to give him a look that just screamed how little she cared about how he felt, sitting there in a staring match. Kaeya tried to draw back the exasperation he felt, because with the way she stared, eyes seeming to pierce deep within, he realized there was a lot more at stake than just a few petty questions. If she got too close, well, that was his identity in Mondstadt. 

“What is the point of all of this, Rosaria?” he asked, trying to divert her. 

“Acting Grandmaster Jean and Deaconess Barbara are worried about you,” said Rosaria.  “Naturally, as a member of the church I thought I might assist and see if their worries were well founded or not.” 

He leaned his head back, really not wanting to deal with an interrogation in his state. “And? Do I pass?” 

“No need to get defensive,” she snickered. “I’m only going to ask you one more question and then we’re done.” 

He watched, breath halted, wondering what question she was going to ask. Would it be about Diluc, about why he left? Would it be about the reason Kaeya was at the archon statue, passed out? Would it be about the winds around town? Or the reason he went to pray? Kaeya really didn’t like the idea of having to answer any of those questions. 

However, despite the nerves she did as she promised and simply asked, “Can you promise me you’re going to stay?” 

Kaeya blinked, unable to fathom such a simple question. Didn’t Rosaria want to know the circumstances surrounding him? For someone like Kaeya, who was nosy and did investigations well, he would’ve been an open target. And yet, the nun stood there with the same no-nonsense look of Diluc, dead serious about the question. Trapped in a corner, despite the simplicity, though, Kaeya found himself answering with a simple yes, which apparently was good enough for the woman. 

“If you ever worry Barabara with that kind of thing again,” she threatened, “I will personally leave Mond and hunt you down. So, as long you’re staying, we’re good. Mond needs you. Nobody else could be our trusted cavalry captain, after all.” 

His silence continued, as she walked out the door. He stared out the window, watching the trees on the other side of the lake blow in the distance. It was surprisingly peaceful, considering everything he’d seen. The wind sang another lullaby, the sound of the organ upstairs combined with the soft noise of a lyre. 

“Oh and by the way,” Rosaria poked her head in the door again. “Jean says you’re on bedrest for the next two days. You better not worry her either, or it won’t just be me that hunts you down.” 

The door slammed, the wind pulling it shut, but Kaeya didn’t care. For once in a while, the soft music lulled him asleep, his mind traveling to places it had not been to in a long time. 

<><><>

“I may have promised her, but it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t at least wrap up my affairs,” Kaeya muttered, working at his desk. 

For the last few days, despite the conversation that the two of them had, the wind had continued. It knocked on his windows at night, disrupted his drinking in the tavern, and had shoved more paperwork in his face than he had ever seemed to need to know about. He’d seen more about the Abyss Order in the last few days than he cared to know about. Strangely enough, almost every time he saw something that threat disappeared within a matter of days, if not the very night. And, even though it had all of Kaeya’s senses on edge, he was not a religious man, and so he refused to even acknowledge the possibility that the wind was up to anything. 

The rest of the town, though, seemed to disagree with him. Between the occasional muttering of some ‘darknight hero’, Kaeya was often asked about his many ventures to the church. A religious man now? Is what he got a lot . To him, they were like taunts, almost as bad as the sniping between him and Diluc. And yet, unlike that, this felt personal, like digs at the loud and carefree person he tried to be. It said, you actually care about something and for Kaeya anything close to that was uncomfortable. Because he didn’t care about anything, anymore. 

Any time Kaeya did spend at church, was begging Barbatos to make it stop. By this point the nuns were familiar enough with him that they handed him that stupid beginners card, and would look at the back pew, where he often liked to sit. Sometimes he saw Rosaria or Barbara, and though both got under his skin, and made him disturbed to be there, Barbara was definitely the preferable one. Rosaria left him feeling exposed, whereas Barbara was simply too overjoyed, thinking that he was going to stick with the church, despite everything. 

Maybe, just maybe, Barabara didn’t seem to be too wrong either. Though he had been personally avoiding acknowledging the possibility that the boy with the vision, the wannabe archon, was correct, Kaeya couldn’t help himself. His curiosity was getting the better of him, and he wondered if perhaps there was something that would happen if he attended. And so Kaeya went on a Sunday, against the looming feeling within that reminded him of Crepus and the old days. He decided to go, even if he wasn’t a religious man. Because the wind had done enough. 

The day was bright, the first time he went to church since back then. There was something about the way the light streamed into the windows of Favonius Cathedral when he went in, untainted and pure, as if the wind had made it so there was not a cloud in the sky. Kaeya listened with ease as for some reason, the organ played what were his favorite hymns and chorales. Because yes, after a decent education in music from Crepus, he knew quite a bit about Mondstadt’s traditional pieces. 

Surprisingly enough, as mass started, Kaeya found that he still knew the procedures. There was a large part of him that couldn’t remember exactly what all of them meant — Crepus had explained that when he was really young — but he wasn’t surprised when he heard the sound of the wind strong within, blowing and breathing, ever alive. For a moment, it seemed as though he was meant to be there. 

And then, all of a sudden, a strong wind swept in. The opening hymn was interrupted by the cathedral doors opening, someone he never expected to see coming in through them. Diluc Ragnvindr, of all people, came into the back of the church without even looking at him, and sat down. And, for a very brief moment, Kaeya listened as the organ played Diluc’s favorite nursery rhyme, a song about the coming of the night and the day. 

I will stay by your side, stay until the dawn arrives, Kaeya swore he heard the wind whisper, if only for a moment, until he looked at Diluc cringing. Funny enough, he sat in the pew on the other side of the isle from Kaeya, who was of course, in the shadowy back. Perhaps he wasn’t all that religious, after all. 

“It’s touching isn’t it,” a voice whispered to his left. “Two brothers in church together.” 

Somehow, the pretend archon from when Kaeya was drunk had snuck over to his left, and had decided to sit in the pew in front of him, leaning back to talk. The entire action made Kaeya raise his eyebrows. Wasn’t this kid a super religious vision holder? 

Kaeya gave him a look. “Who said you could come in here and pretend to be the archon?” 

“Listen,” said the bard, “you and I both know that everything they’re saying is full of it. It’s all rules and traditions. What you really need is to trust in the wind. That’s what it’s about underneath everything, you know?”

“I don’t trust in the wind,” he replied. 

The bard smiled, and stuck his ear out, like he was listening to something. “I know. But you really should. It might just help you out.” 

Kaeya rolled his eyes, and looked over at Diluc. The man was there praying, sheathed claymore between his hands as he sat there whispering. To Kaeya, the action was strange, but then again, Diluc had left four years ago. Maybe, just maybe, he had found the archons while he was off in Snezhnaya. Kaeya had, after all, seen his vision go dim for a while, indicating that he had probably almost died. Maybe he met one when that happened. 

“You really should heed its warning,” the bard whispered, expression morphed into something dangerous and sad. It made Kaeya uncomfortable, if only for a moment. 

“May I remind you, the wind has been nothing but a pain in the ass,” Kaeya sighed. He was not a religious man, and would not bend to one. 

The young boy shook his head. “But what about the hospital?” 

“How did you—?” Kaeya blinked, but by the time the words were out, the bard had somehow disappeared. 

And, for some reason, even though the rest of the service went just fine, Kaeya couldn’t help but shake the feeling that there was something looming on the horizon. 

<><><>

He should’ve known. With all of those reports flying in his face, and all of the rumors of the darknight hero that he’d heard, Kaeya should’ve seen it. And yet, ever since the wind had come back into his life, he couldn’t put two and two together anymore. He was, as Diluc always put it, one of those inefficient knights. 

But the wind had other plans for him. The very same night of the day he’d gone to church, and heard that young boy’s warning, a brick smashed through the windows of his house. And Kaeya, although not a religious man, couldn’t help but feel fear. 

So, for once since everything had started, Kaeya decided to listen. He followed the wind, letting it help his sprint and stride, far into the depths of Mondstadt’s wilds. And then he saw him. Diluc was doubled over, a pyro abyss mage looming over him. 

“Diluc!” He hissed. “What in the world are you doing?”

Even though he was clearly injured, he still had enough fight in him to snap. “Doing what you inefficient knights can’t.” 

“How long has this been going on?” Kaeya asked. 

He knew the answer already, though. It was pretty much since the wind had been shoving papers in his face. And it made Kaeya angry. Diluc’s vision was with him, it had been with him since he’d disposed of that fucking traitor Eroch, and it most certainly had not been with Diluc as he was trouncing around, fighting enemies above his pay grade with just a claymore. 

“Don’t see why you care,” Diluc responded. 

Kaeya just ignored him. Clearly, his priorities were fucked up enough that the wind had to lead Kaeya of all people in the world to fix it. Literally anyone else would have been better. And yet, Kaeya knew that right now he was the one who would have to defend him. 

He made pretty quick work of the abyss mage. Since his cryo was enough to chip and melt at its shield, he was able to hack and slash at it, and use his ice to waltz around it until it was down. Despite what the idiot he was defending thought, Kaeya had become an amazing fighter over the last few years. 

Once the mage was gone, it took one look at Diluc to tell he was injured. 

“Let me help you back,” Kaeya offered. “You can lean on my shoulder.” 

His brother spit on the ground while using his claymore as a lift. “I’ll be just fine.” 

“I’ll at least walk you back,” he said. 

Diluc didn’t respond, and that was alright. Inside Kaeya was reeling, trying to figure out a way to get Diluc his vision back as quickly as possible because even though Diluc could fight, Kaeya didn’t want him fighting like this. Yes, he’d spent four years without it, but if he could at least do that, well, he’d feel a lot better about things. 

“You have informants in church now?” The man questioned out of nowhere, despite the strange and still silence of walking. 

Kaeya shook his head, and found no reason to lie. “No, I don’t.” 

“Then what were you doing there today?” Diluc asked. 

Of course. Diluc probably knew exactly what Kaeya thought about religion. 

He deflected, uncomfortable with the question. “What were you doing?” 

“They say the cavalry captain has suddenly become a religious man. I had to see it for myself,” said Diluc, and Kaeya could feel the ice in his veins because that implied Diluc had the audacity to think Kaeya would hurt someone in the church. Though, almost as if he could see the anger, he continued, “I was asking father for help. Things have been— difficult lately.”

Kaeya let out a laugh, at which Diluc only shook his head. He figured he would let him think what he may. For someone who had been constantly harassed by the wind, he had the right to laugh at that statement. 

“I’m sure the inefficient knights would welcome you back if you asked,” Kaeya joked. “Cavalry captain position is yours if you want it.” 

Diluc stopped for a moment leaning on his sword as he did so. “I think you’re plenty suited for it. You found me, after all.” 

“That wasn’t me,” he said, completely serious. “I only followed the wind.” 

His former brother regarded him with a series of brief and confused glances as they continued walking, but Kaeya didn’t care. Diluc could think what he may, he could even think Kaeya was a religious man, which of course he wasn’t, just as long as the damn idiot didn’t ask about the wind. Then, they’d have issues. 

“What do you—?” Diluc began, but Kaeya cut him off. 

He shook his head. “Don’t ask. There are things going on that even I don’t know the answer to right now.” 

It was enough to shut him up. Finally, after a while, they reached Dawn Winery, and Kaeya watched as Diluc turned back, if at least, for a small moment, he had a question. But Kaeya decided it was time to walk away. They were being friendly because it was post-fight, and he wasn’t going to be nasty to someone who was hurt, but he was sure that wasn’t going to last long, now that he was here. Kaeya turned away in haste, not even hearing Diluc’s goodbye as he left. But on the wind, far away from the doors of his old home Kaeya could’ve sworn he heard the brief whispering of a thank you, carried all the way to his ears. 

“Don’t worry Diluc,” Kaeya whispered, ignoring the fact that a small part of him just wished that maybe, just maybe the wind would carry his words, “I’ll make sure you’re safe soon.” 

And so he did, spending the way home thinking about how he could get Diluc’s vision back to him as discreetly as possible. 

<><><>

Getting Diluc’s vision back to him was nigh impossible. He found himself constantly swamped, on details that had him running back and forth across what felt like Teyvat itself. There were weeks without sleep, and he’d used so much cryo that it felt like his fingers were going to fall off due to frostbite. It seemed as though the Fatui of all people were active in Mondstadt, and so the job was on him to combat them discreetly. 

There was a lot of anxiety that went with the job, though. Varka and the cavalry he was supposed to be in charge of were off, so Kaeya was in charge of new recruits, which was probably the worst thing. Recruits like that were unpredictable, scared, wild-cards in fighting. Due to unreliability alone he figured he was fighting effectively with a quarter less than what he was given, with the additional task of keeping them safe. And that, as their captain, was enough to keep him up at night. 

Even though Kaeya wasn’t a religious man, oddly enough, he found himself up at night whispering to a wind that never whispered back. It was a move of catharsis, a way to scream out the pain inside, though he found himself resentful when met with the lack of an answer. All in all, it was done in fear, on the off chance someone or something might hear him. And though the anemo archon was not someone who cared, Kaeya needed something to help with the anxious gnawing that took over whenever he was waiting. 

On the many patrols he often encountered Diluc, who claimed to be out and about Teyvat trying to help with the interests of the winery. Kaeya, of course, didn’t buy it. He was probably out scouting, searching for places and leads for all of his midnight vigilante activities. Which of course, made Kaeya all the more anxious. More time spent trouncing around Teyvat, trying to take care of people who really shouldn’t be, meant less time trying to get Diluc settled. It meant he was further from that orange stone, and Diluc was stuck using nothing. He was visionless, defenseless, or so Kaeya thought.

During one of his many, sleepless nights Kaeya encountered the warnings of the wind yet again, which knocked down his field tents. Because of the last time, he figured, of course it was some kind of emergency, probably related to Diluc who ever so stubbornly just would not quit fighting when he was poorly equipped. But that was a lie. Poorly equipped was an understatement. Dangerously was more in the vein of what the truth was, because as Kaeya found out, he was now fighting with the same thing that had killed their father. And even though Kaeya didn’t think Diluc could be that stupid, he clearly was. 

And so Kaeya worked hard to fulfill Jean’s orders. It tore him apart inside that Diluc was fighting with that of all things, but no matter what, he knew he couldn’t stop it. Diluc was fucking stubborn, he’d always been, and it wasn’t like their relationship was anywhere near close enough for Kaeya to confront him about it. Just like with the vision, Kaeya needed an excuse, which meant he had to get out of the field and into town where he could get information. Once he had enough, then, and only then, would he even be potentially successful when he made his move. 

Through his fighting, something strange happened. More and more, as the days passed, he grew more and more tired, and his instincts dulled. And yet it seemed as though the wind was speaking to him, like when Master Crepus used to instruct him in the fight, gentle and reassuring, making sure he didn’t get damaged. Kaeya began to hear things like to your left or that recruit is in danger . And, for a while, Kaeya wrote it off as a hallucination, until he couldn’t.

The instructions made him move in a way he hadn’t in years. Typically Kaeya’s fighting style was defined by hasty circles, sometimes half-moons, around the battlefield. He used his ice to watch his back and his speed to run about enemies. But this was different. It was like the days where Master Crepus used to train him and Diluc to fight together, and he used to dance, blade and claymore spinning and twirling by two people who had mastered the art of being just in time with each other. As he fought he listened to the wind and found himself fighting as if he was a Ragnvindr, slipping back into habits long passed in a strange and easy way. 

The recruits noticed too, asking if he was safe, if they needed to stop because he wasn’t covering his back . And all Kaeya could say to this was how he just listened to the wind, because it was a friend. He knew it made him sound religious, but it was the truth, and as an experienced fighter he didn’t know how to lie to new recruits in that way. Skilled though he was, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if someone got hurt because of the strange occurrences happening to him. 

Eventually, though, Kaeya managed to weasel his way into Diluc’s business, to get invited to a party full of those stupid Fatui diplomats. And eventually, he figured out how to get his vision to him. Buying the stupidest, ugliest vase he could, just because fuck Diluc for daring to fight without a vision, he finally handed the idiot his vision back. Hopefully the wind would leave him alone now that he’d finally done that task. 

<><><>

Even though Kaeya thought it was over, after all, he’d listened to the stupid wind and gave Diluc his vision back, it wasn’t. In fact, it was about as far from over as the fight between him and Diluc was. Despite what he had done -- finding out about his brother’s midnight escapades, going so far as to make sure he was sage, the wind still echoed around him, making sure he was apprised of the situation in Mond. It was though he had a constant conversation with it. 

People noticed, too. They’d ask him stupid things like how his prayers to Lord Barbatos were going, or, even worse, they’d praise him for being an example to the religious community. There had, according to the nuns in the church, been a spike of religious Knights of Favonius recruits who now found themself quite often in the cathedral. A large number of those recruits, as Kaeya shortly found out, were the ones who had been witness to the clean, perfect fighting he’d shown on the last campaign. And for those who weren’t, the rumor mill had, apparently, decided that being a religious man like him granted one better fighting prowess. 

Not that, of course, Kaeya was any form of religious crusader. He was the farthest thing from it. Yet again, he was back in the city and things were settled enough that Kaeya figured it was time to pick up his exit strategy once again. He’d done his part to help Jean, cleared out a number of new strategic Abyss sites, and now it was time to take a tactical retreat. Mond was not his home, unfortunately nowhere was, really, but that didn’t mean he could stay and make it one. Despite being the owner of a vision, Kaeya was still tied to the filthy blood that ran through his veins. He needed to leave, and so he began to prepare to do so. 

The wind, though, often didn’t listen. He got even more papers to the face, more slamming of doors, and more escape plots foiled. Luckily, he hadn’t been discovered by Jean or Barbara because he didn’t foresee that ending well. Not even the ever troublesome wind had ratted him out to Rosaria, and for that he was grateful. For a cryo user she was abnormally cold, frigid in fact. 

One of the things that the wind did that he appreciated, though he suspected it was likely a ploy to keep him from running off in the night, was let him watch over Diluc. Kaeya often heard the whispers of directions in his ears, and though he never found the need to participate in Diluc’s activities, it felt good to watch them from afar. At the very least, if Diluc was going to be an idiot and insist on fighting by himself, someone was close enough to take him to the cathedral if things ever got bad again. Not that Kaeya thought they would. Diluc, even after such a long absence had received his vision at such a young age that he picked it up like it was natural. Kaeya was jealous. He wished it were that way for him. 

Something else that happened, though not entirely spurred on by the wind, and more so by his curiosity, was that Kaeya often found himself returning to Sunday service. The nuns had all but reserved his pew in the cathedral, because, instead of handing him the beginner’s card, he often found a stack of religious materials in his seat. On top was the beginner’s card, and any time he tried to or ask the anemo archo what the heck was going on, it sufficed. Though every time he picked up the card the nuns would smile and whisper, as if he were doing something enlightened and not, well, just trying to get it all to stop. 

Kaeya hated the constant attention. While he certainly understood that the wind was its own force, and that at times it talked to him, that didn’t make him one of those people. The world itself seemed to follow him to a place he didn’t believe in, and an archon he resented. And oh how the ice within his veins burned. Even the most skeptical people seemed to think he was this religious progeny. Rosaria, some days, looked like she sometimes thought he was on his way there, and Jean had finally stopped giving him death glares, like he was playing around with her sister’s feelings. 

Barbara, of course, was the one person Kaeya found to be bearable about this mess. She often walked around the cathedral on the emptier days, the ones when he would take his work to the pews, because the noise that carried past his office was unbearable. And, if Kaeya was honest with himself, it was probably another scheme of the wind. Not that he minded. If people were going to act like he was a religious man, he could at least take advantage of it. 

“Sir Kaeya,” said the Deaconess on one such day. “It’s good to see you here. Do you have a moment? 

He let out a surprisingly truthful smile. “For you, always.” 

“Great,” she beamed, and Kaeya rolled up his map. “Come follow me, I have something to show you.” 

The wind swirled around the cathedral, playing the organ and Kaeya recognized one of the familiar, comforting tunes that had somehow become so familiar that they melted into the background. Light spilled warm across his face as he followed the deaconess all the way to the basement entrance, and they descended the stairs, launching him into a kind of dimness once again. The downstairs was beautiful, filled with rich libraries full of religious texts from sage thinkers of the church over the years, and it made Kaeya feel as though he didn’t belong. These were the church archives, after all. But Barbara didn’t seem to care, in fact she had an excited gleam in her eye as she motioned him over to a table to sit. 

“Do you like our library?” She asked, gesturing around to all of the books, especially to the one that was sitting in front of her. Kaeya was curious about the title, but she grabbed it into her arms before he could look.  

This time, though the words were the truth the smile was a lie. “It’s quite magnificent. I never knew the church had such a collection.” 

“Wonderful!” Barbara clapped her hands together, the book bouncing between them as she did. “I thought you would love it. Feel free to use it any time. I see you bringing your work here sometimes and it feels like you just don’t have enough space at the pews and we have a perfectly good library, so I want you to feel comfortable. The church is your home.” 

Kaeya could feel his heart beating faster than normal. “What do you mean, my home?”

The deaconess tilted her head at him, a sad and confused smile creeping up her face. For Kaeya, who had been explicitly threatened over her well-being multiple times, he began to feel uncomfortable. Curse him and his stupid mouth for blurting the first thing he said. He was going to get berated for this. 

“The church is your home,” Barbara repeated, as if the words were absolute. “Master Crepus baptized you and Master Diluc so no matter in the world you went to, you would always have a place as one of the people of Lord Barbatos. Even when you pass away, you will always belong to the wind.” 

The mention of Diluc’s name alone was enough to make him feel the tension rivet through him. But his father? That name hadn’t been dared uttered to him by anyone since the day he died, and Kaeya didn’t know how to feel about the way that it rolled off of her tongue so easily like his absence wasn’t part of the very ice that flowed through his veins. Like Kaeya hadn’t been left for dead or kicked out of that home. Like someone actually accepted him. Like Mondstadt was his home. 

“I don’t--I’m not--” Kaeya found himself sputtering out, unable to hold in the surprise. Barabara stared at him in silence, though, and Kaeya felt the need to say something, anything to make her stop looking at him like that. Jean would have his head if he hurt her. “Mond can’t--” 

“I don’t belong here,” he clarified, getting a hold of himself. “I’m not like anyone here. I’m selfish and I like alcohol. I’m skeptical, and a lot of my methods are certainly not in line with your teachings. And I certainly don’t like it when people call me religious or ask me how my prayers are going . I hold grudges and am resentful. I am different from you, and therefore this cannot be my home.” 

Barabara leaned back in her chair, clutching her book to her chest, and for some reason that look grew even more solidified in her face. “But you believe, right? In the wind?” 

Did he actually believe in the wind? He’d been talking non-stop to it since he’d gotten back, had trusted it to guide him to the right places, and knew it would keep him safe in battle. If any outsider looked upon him they would say he did, and yet there was a reluctance within him. Would it really be alright to? Was it really true? Kaeya had no idea. But, even though he wasn’t a religious man, he certainly wouldn’t dare deny the question. Especially because he didn’t want to break Barabara’s heart. 

“Yes,” he whispered, unsure of whether the statement was a truth, or a lie. “I do.” 

The blonde nodded, satisfied with the answer, and Kaeya felt relief flood through him. “Good. Because at the end of the day, no matter how different from us you may be, you still belong to Lord Barbatos. And that fact alone makes this your home.” 

She set down the book on the table, the back side up, and stood up. There was a knowing smile playing on what were normally innocent lips, and Kaeya felt as though, for a moment, of all people Barabara had managed to play him . 

“Do enjoy the library,” Barabara finished. “You will always be welcome here.” 

When she left Kaeya finally reached over the table and flipped over the book she had left behind. The cover was plain, with a title that had two words: Unholy Crusaders. He flipped through, and the pages opened to a place that had been dog eared, with lots of notes and annotations. He could recognize it as a mixture of both Rosaria and Barabara’s writing, as if they were having a conversation. And, when he finally sat down and read the section much to Kaeya’s surprise the words were tales of holy people who were revered, people who were once just as twisted and cynical as him, too. 

<><><>

Even if Barbara had played him, and even if it was probably a scheme by the stupid wind, Kaeya soon did begin to find the church to be a second home. The library in the church was quiet, and more importantly, uninhabited by Lisa, which meant that Kaeya could work without the constant static which seemed to tire him out. And for him, who lived for long and late nights on duty, it was perfect, despite the constant comments. 

One of the unfortunate parts about dwelling in the church libraries was that he had to deal with the consequences that came with that. People now asked him for religious advice like he was some kind of priest or saint, at which he would simply look at them and tell them just how much he didn’t know, just how lost he was like them. Kaeya wasn’t religious, and he certainly didn’t want to pretend like he knew what he was talking about, so he answered like that instead. And yet, the world around him took that as a sign of some true and unwavering belief, which honestly he didn’t have. 

The wind continued to whisper to him, though, a constant companion to him in his day by day. He spoke to it in battle, in study, and even sometimes at the bar. Not that, by any means, he was visiting the bar any less. He could care less about what anyone said or did — there was intelligence to be gathered there, things he had to know for the sake of Mondstadt. And, for some reason the wind understood that. Often when he went, he found himself listening to its whistle, the very voices of others being carried to his ears as he went about his day. 

Sometimes, he thought of that young bard in the church, the way he listened to Kaeya and yet kept his ears open, as if the wind had something to tell him. He wondered, if perhaps, that young bard was like him, plagued by the whispers that followed him everywhere. Did he too, have a mysterious mission like Kaeya did? What about the others of Mond? Did they, too, hear the whispers? Was this a common phenomenon? 

Curiosity eventually got the better of him. Even though he never intended on touching a single book in the church library, he found the need to start to comb through an endless retinue of shelves, to search for something, anything that could alert him to if someone had been spoken to before by the wind. And what their purpose was if they did.

Lost and yet hungry for answers, Kaeya began to consult with the nuns of the church. He found himself asking questions, trying to understand their faith and their belief, because it seemed to be truly the only way to understand without telling him that the wind actually spoke to him. Kaeya figured that telling them that would be akin to social suicide. He would never recover because they would expect him to come back, and then there would be more people who hurt when he was going to leave. Because, even if things were hectic now, Kaeya still remembered the need to leave. He had to leave.  

At this point the instinct to run wasn’t so much about Diluc, because the man still hadn’t outed him, as much as it was about something else. There was a fear, one that gripped him inside and jostled him around that he didn’t really belong. That no one knew the true side of him, and could accept him, therefore the moment someone did, it would all fly away, like a dandelion in the breeze. It had happened with Diluc, and it could most certainly happen with anyone else. In fact, Kaeya was sure, it would be worse if anyone else knew. 

And so Kaeya poured himself into the archives of the Cathedral, spent many an afternoon conversing with Barbara on the theology of the church, and found himself more knowledgeable than any single regular parishioner who sat ahead of him during Sunday service. The world moved on, the wind blew, and the sun set in the west with the passing of each day. And yet his prayers for his vision to be gone went unanswered, and his hopes to leave the city stayed forever dashed. 

There were many nights where Kaeya could’ve packed up and walked away, but if he was truly honest with himself, something deep down told him he couldn’t. If he left, he’d leave Jean and the wind would probably tell him how overworked she was. If he left, he’d leave the newfound friendship with Barbara, who was surprisingly insightful enough to probably have him stopped on the way out. And if he left he’d leave the recruits, the Knights of Favonius, and probably any hope he had of mending fences with Diluc. Still though, it was exhausting, and Kaeya didn’t know how long he could keep up the facade. 

“Just let me leave!” Kaeya found himself crying out, in the dead of night in the library, as the wind told him of Diluc’s vigilante activities. 

The wind swirled about the pages of his book, lifting them for a moment. Do you really hate this place that much?

Unsure whether what he was hearing was real or not, Kaeya responded. “I don’t—I just—there’s no place for me here, anymore.”

It was the truth. If anyone, even the people who pretended to want him in their lives, knew then he would be gone. He would be on the run, forever. He would’ve been kicked out from the city. That fear alone meant there was nowhere. 

Are you not a vision holder? A beloved child of Lord Barbatos? The wind whispered back. 

Even if that was true, it didn’t mean others would believe it. He was about as far from watched over by Barbatos, as Jean was from taking a vacation. It wasn’t true, and probably was never going to happen. 

“Just because I have a vision,” he spat, “does not mean I have a home. No one would truly accept me, if they knew what I really was.” 

There was a strong gust that blew amongst the books, stirring things up in the library. He heard the organ upstairs, thundering with sound loud enough to reach through the floors. And Kaeya for a moment was taken aback to the fear he felt on the day he lost his family. Pain welled within him and he gripped the table, needing to hold on to any form of solid surface in that moment. 

There was one person , the wind howled. Your father. 

Short and uncontrollable breaths came from Kaeya’s mouth. No one had called Master Crepus his father in years and Kaeya was just fine with that. He’d avoided the name, the reminder that that part of his life had been stripped away, because it made it easier. And when Diluc had come back he figured he could just take his stuff and go. Ever since that night, ever since he’d gotten that blasted vision, he’d been packed and ready to run . He’d been waiting for the day that it was day to, and he was tired from the delay. He was tired of having his guard up. And now, well now he just wanted to rest. 

What is it that you want, Kaeya? The wind whispered 

“I don’t know,” he responded, and it was about as far from the truth as anything ever could have been. 

<><><>

Shine True

Crepus Ragnvindr

The rain was pouring, just like that night, when he visited Crepus’ grave. It had been a few days since that night in the library, and all the while he’d taken a vacation, the first one in over a year, because dealing with the knights was too exhausting. Kaeya was exhausted. The world was exhausted, and he was too emotionally spent to be doing anything that resembled work.

He’d spent most of time drinking the day and night away, in the four walls of his apartment, trying to forget what happened. The wind had been there with him, whispering words of kindness and assurance, telling him it would be alright. But Kaeya didn’t believe it. This was the same wind that had turned his life upside down, that had exposed so much of what he didn’t want to have exposed. And yet this was the same wind that had helped, that had made him aware, that fought with him on the plains when nobody else could keep up with him. It made him sick. 

“I miss you,” was all he said to the grave of Crepus.

The wind remained silent, as if listening to every quiet and tender word he spoke. Kaeya took another sip of a bottle of dandelion wine. He wasn’t particularly fond of it straight, but it only felt right, considering where he was now. Left with nothing else from a place he once thought could be called home, this was all he could bring, and could do, now that Crepus was gone. He didn’t even have that stupid blue prayer card Crepus made him as a kid. 

“I’m sorry I’m not leaving it for you,” said Kaeya. “I figure I probably need it more than you, though, wherever you are.” 

Nothing but silence met Kaeya as he wept, the small, salty sting of tears leaving his breath heaving. His lips trembled as he took another swig from the bottle, trying to down as much of it as possible. He just wanted to get drunk, to see the lights in the street become fuzzy and soft, and for the world to just feel a little more right for a while. 

More words tumbled back. “Can you believe it? The wind asked me what I wanted and all I could think was my family. I wanted Diluc back, and I wanted you back. I wish you were here with me.” 

Water dripped down Kaeya’s hair and into the bottle, so he took another large gulp. The last one really hadn’t made him feel anything, even though he’d done a plethora of shots beforehand. It was a sign that his tolerance had already grown all too high, and his ability to stop drinking was all too low. 

“I really did love you, you know?” Kaeya whispered. “And I told Diluc the truth because the day you died ripped me apart. It took the worst things in me, and brought them to light. I don’t ever want to be like that again.” 

“Then don’t,” responded someone who was very, very real. 

Somehow, in some way, the young green bard that Kaeya had been ever so familiar with, stood and stared at him from behind the grave, eyes shining despite the darkness and the rain. For a moment, he looked less like a human and more like a ghost, with a shining aura about him. And Kaeya, well, Kaeya knew. Even drunk and stupid, he was smart enough to tell -- this boy was not normal. 

“Lord Barbatos?” He asked, the surprised words rushing out of his mouth. 

The young boy smiled, plucking the lyre at his side. “I prefer to be called Venti.” 

The winds rushed around him, up from the coast, wiping away the horrid tears from his face. He felt it flow around him, embrace him, and blow soft through his hair. Everything about it was calming and gentle, kind and peaceful, quite unlike the way life had been. He took another swig of the bottle, surprised and unused to what he was seeing. 

“Why?” Kaeya shivered. 

“You are mine, and therefore I don’t want you to suffer,” the archon said. “The wind hears all. The wind knows all. I listen to it, and it is mine. Just as you, whether in Celestia or as the whispers of the wind, will always be mine.” 

The look Venti gave him told him that he knew about that night, and the choice he’d made. The way Diluc had left him for dead, screaming and crying with scars that burned his sides and hands. He knew about the way he’d laid under the tree in Windrise, unable to walk himself all the way to the city. And he knew about how Kaeya screamed, he cried out for Crepus, and was met with only a soft and shallow breeze, drying his tears from his face. 

“I was a spy, I came here from Khaenri'ah,” Kaeya hissed. “Why would you choose me, when you know that? Why would you save me, when I just wanted to end it all? I was tired of this choice.” 

In that moment he felt all of the fight drain out of him, a strange kind of exhaustion taking its place. Kaeya was not a religious man, and yet here he was, asking an archon why he cared, why he didn’t just cast him out. He was resentful, he had been angry for so long, and so lonely because he just wanted to find a home and a place where he didn’t need to keep running. After all of that, after everything Kaeya knew it couldn’t be as simple as saying Mondstadt was his home. So then why? Why was he here, in the rain, with the last person he ever expected to be? 

“This place is already my home,” he muttered, unable to keep his thoughts inside. “But then why--?” 

Venti smiled at him in a kind and caring way, as if he were speaking to a child. “The day you got your vision was the day you truly let all of the walls fall, and accepted this place as where you belonged. You made a great sacrifice that day. You told the truth, out of love, and it saved your life.” 

Something about that burned. The part of Kaeya that was rife with self-hatred wanted to let it be over, and yet there was a part of him that felt comforted, that felt treasured, if only for a moment. He hated the world for having to make the choice between Khaenri'ah and Mondstadt, but most importantly, he hated himself for what he chose. He hated the fact that he couldn’t stay strong, that he couldn’t resist this place filled with love and freedom. But most of all, he hated that when he finally chose, he lost everything.  

“I hated you for a long time,” said Kaeya. “Diluc too.” 

Venti nodded. “I know. I’m sorry. It just wasn’t your time yet.” 

“Why?” Kaeya spat. “I lost everything. Isn’t the anemo archon supposed to be full of love, and comfort? That’s what the zealots who pray every day say.” 

Everything he hated about religious people was this idea of faith, of this idea of things just magically working out. Because the world itself didn’t work out. The world was sick and ugly and evil, and normal people didn’t get to hear the wind itself, like him. When he needed it the most, he certainly hadn’t gotten to hear the wind. Lord Barbatos certainly didn’t comfort him then. 

“I wish I could tell you,” Venti said. “I can’t. It’s for your own good. I know that it’s not the answer you want to hear, but please trust me. I can show you that I only want what’s best for you.” 

Kaeya scoffed. “How?” 

The anemo archon winced, as if he felt bad. “I can offer you a choice. Right here, right now I can answer your prayers and take back the vision and let you be free of this burden. Or, you can choose to have faith and keep it, and wait. You can trust in the wind and see where it takes you.” 

Kaeya took the vision which hung from his belt and grasped it. He was ready, oh so ready, to just let down everything. Mond was his home, but he was tired and he wanted to be free from what it meant to hold the ice. He wanted to be free from the lies and the harsh reality between him and his brother. He went to try to hand it to Venti when a gust made him pull back his hand. 

Trust said the wind, and Kaeya paused. The archon had already offered him a choice, so why? Why was he trying to stop Kaeya from making it? 

“It’s not me,” said the bard. “The wind is mine, but I am not it. You will always be free to make your choice, under me.” 

The sole second of hesitation was enough for Kaeya. The wind, the thing that had been with him and had worked so hard to keep him safe, to let him know what was going on. Venti was saying to trust in that wind. And Kaeya, as much as he wanted to let go of the burden that he had, he wanted other things more. Like his family, and his home. And while Venti wasn’t guaranteeing those things, they were worth a shot. 

“Alright,” said Kaeya. “I’ll trust. For now, I’ll keep my vision and I’ll wait.” 

Venti smiled. “I’m glad, Sir Kaeya. I hope someday soon, you’ll understand when I say you made the right decision.” 

And with that, the wind blew, and the archon vanished. The rain fell soft, but Kaeya closed his eyes for a moment and whispered goodbye to his father. Perhaps, he figured, it was time for him to go back home.

<><><>

Enough time passed, between that day in the rain, and life in general was enough, that Kaeya forgot about the promise of Lord Barbatos. He still wouldn’t count himself as a religious man, probably the farthest thing from it, but he still trusted in the wind. He still listened to its whispers, and whispered back. He still attended Sunday service, and said the words on the beginner card, and debated with Barabara. It was as if life hadn’t changed at all, except now, he was just waiting. 

At first it had been painful. He’d been so anxious and vigilant that people assumed he was on duty 24/7, and, since the town thought he was religious, they’d say he was in their prayers. But in reality he wanted some great sign, some idea, of the promise that was made. And, of course, he never got it. Kaeya eventually learned to accept that, and when he did, time seemed to flow smoother. 

Soon enough, he found himself letting Mondstadt be his home. After years of being packed up, Kaeya finally emptied the little possessions he had into his apartment, and tried to make the space feel a little more like home. He then bought new furniture, framed Klee and Albedo’s drawings, and even asked the latter for his own custom made fermenting and distilling kit. Albedo was more than happy to comply. Kaeya figured if this was to be his home, he figured he might as well show off some of his skills to make alcohol. And, if he was feeling lucky, maybe he could try his hand at beer. 

More often than not, Kaeya made a deliberate attempt to fish for information at Angel’s Share. Though he needed to frequent Cat’s Tail, since it was the other popular bar in town, it was nice to be around Diluc, even if they only spoke rarely. There was something comforting about the presence, the knowledge that maybe, possibly, he and Kaeya could make up that allowed him to be grounded at the bar. It was probably a long way’s off still but that was alright. Kaeya had time. He had no plans to leave Mond, after all. 

At some point, Kaeya even let himself study the church. Though not a religious man, he had met an archon, and his curiosity had been enough so that he’d asked Barbara about what he could do to study. And somehow, that ended him up on the track where he was taking confirmation classes, learning about the ways of Barbatos and the history and traditions of the church. 

It would be a lie, if Kaeya said he agreed with everything. There were things that he could follow to the letter, with all of his heart, and there were others that he couldn’t reconcile yet within him. But that was alright. Barbatos himself had said the most important thing was trust, was belief, and so Kaeya knew that while he wasn’t going to be a stellar example of the church, and that he wasn’t a religious man, he could at least give it a try.  

Somehow, in some way, Kaeya ended up sticking with the classes long enough that Barbara had dubbed it time for Kaeya to make a pilgrimage. It was the last step, before confirmation, where one would visit one of the archon statues across Mondstadt. For most? A daunting task. For Kaeya? Not so much. And yet, there was a nervousness about him. It was probably because of the strange preparations, like the oils of flowers made to mark him and with the trinkets he had to carry. He was given many things — a compass, dandelion seeds, a pinwheel, and finally a prayer card. 

It probably would’ve been alright if it had been the standard card he’d used every day. And yet the present was one that could come from one place and one place alone. It was fiery red, and hand done. One of a kind. The prayer card he was given was no doubt Diluc’s own, saved from years ago when Crepus made one for each of them. Kaeya had no idea why he would give it to him, but he was thankful. There was something special about the gesture, and Kaeya wondered if Diluc could also feel the way the wind rested upon the card, as if swirling around it in some kind of power. He probably couldn’t, or else he wouldn’t have given the card to Kaeya. 

Out of all places Kaeya found himself on his pilgrimage to, it was Galesong Hill, specifically the tree in Windrise. Part of him was tempted to pick Dawn Winery, to go back to his old home, and yet there was something about the tree that was alluring, that made him want to go. Maybe the wind was telling him to. 

And so Kaeya went, on a bright and sunny and breezy, beautiful day. He took his time, carried his objects, voiced his thoughts as he made his way to the tree where Vanessa had once ascended. He laid his compass at the feet of the statue, spread his dandelion seeds on the wind, and set pinwheels about. He did all of the small things of the church, the traditions he never quite cared for, and then he prayed with that old card and the wind answered. 

Howling as if there were a storm, it was everywhere, all around him at once. He heard things from the past, the present, and the future. And for once, he heard a voice — an ever familiar voice, that made him tear up. On the wind, loud and clearer than ever before, he could hear the voice of Master Crepus, his father. 

“Father,” Kaeya stumbled out. “You’re here . You’re actually here .” 

The voice of Crepus chuckled. “I’ve always been here, even if you haven’t recognized my voice.” 

“The wind? That was you?” Kaeya asked. 

“Yes,” Crepus whispered and Kaeya felt as though he were flying. “It was always me.” 

As if embracing him in a hug, the wind swirled around him. Kaeya thought back to everything, the way the wind brought Diluc back, the way it forced him to focus on the world around him, and the way the wind protected him. He had helped him fight, helped Diluc, had told him that he belonged, and had prevented him from leaving. The wind he had been with for so long wasn’t just any wind, of all people it was the man that Kaeya loved the most in the world, the man that he wished would be with him still. His family, and his home. 

“I’ve missed you too, Kaeya,” said Crepus.  

He fell to his knees. “Is this because I decided to trust? Because I didn’t give up my vision?” 

“Perhaps,” the wind rushed around him. “In reality, I don’t know. I suppose it might be, or it might not be. There might be something even greater waiting on the horizon. All I know is that much like me, you were offered a choice. And now, you see the consequences of that choice.” 

For a moment, all was still, as Kaeya listened and thought. The tree didn’t rustle, and the grasses didn’t blow. But then, a gust swept through the trees, swirling around and letting the dirt rise around him. For a moment, he swore the image of his father flickered in between the leaves, as if his ghost was smiling, happy for everything. 

“What was your choice?” Kaeya asked. 

“You,” he replied, and after a moment of similar silence, he continued. “On the night before you arrived at the winery, Lord Barbatos offered me a choice. There was a young child who was coming, a spy, and I could do one of two things. I could strike you down, and gain a pyro vision for it, or I could take you in as if you were my own son, and never see it.

“I knew I wanted a vision for so long, and for that I was angry and resentful. But I didn’t have it within me to kill a child. I knew you were a spy, but I let you into my household, and I resented you for it. But Diluc came to know you, to like you, and I realized that the child that was in my household was not a spy, but a child. You were scared, and alone, and needed someone. 

“And so, you became my family. You became my son, just as Lord Barbatos said. I loved you with all of my heart, and my resentment towards Barbatos faded. It was not until much later, on the day that I died, that I understood. For a long time, he’d known. Once I passed from this world, Diluc would be all alone. It was as things were meant to be. Though you came to blows, Diluc would always have a brother, and you would always have a home. Diluc would not be alone, and you would have a home. 

“Even now, in death, I chose to be a voice of the wind, because I knew that was what I was meant to be. I don’t know where your choices will take you, but I do know this. You will always be a Ragnvindr, my son. I will always love you, and I will always guide you. And as long as you trust and have faith, I will always do my best to lead you back home -- to Mondstadt. This is where you belong.” 

Kaeya bowed his head, not quite able to look at the massive tree that stood before him. The wind swirled around, as if a reminder of the truth he was hearing. It was impossible, unbelievable, and yet to Kaeya, it put him at rest. The fact that someone knew, that someone trusted and loved him in spite of the awful path he had been on before, it was freeing. A weight that had been on Kaeya’s chest for so long, that he never noticed before, seemed to roll off of him, and he laughed, tears of joy flying into the wind. 

“Thank you,” he whispered, to Venti, to Crepus, Barbara, Rosaria, Jean, even Diluc. 

He stayed there, kneeling in front of the archon statue, his gratitude uttered over and over again, with the hopes that it would be heard everywhere in Mondstadt, by everyone that needed to hear it. His tears were no longer the ones of a person who chained to the past, rather someone who was able to live a life and see the future. He had no idea where things were going to go next, but it was alright. He had faith. Crepus may have taken them all to church as children, but right here and right now, Kaeya could finally say that he was a religious man, and that was ok. 

<><><>

On the day of Kaeya’s confirmation, far away from Favonius Cathedral, the soft hum of a lyre played as a young bard stood at the base of a massive oak. He smiled, letting it vibrate as the wind chose the song he heard. This one, he knew, was from the childhood of the two brothers he was ever so fond of. 

“You must be proud of them, Crepus,” Venti whispered, barely heard above the sound of music. 

Incredibly the wind whispered back. They’ve grown up finer than I ever imagined they would.

“Conversing with them reminds me so much of days at the winery, when you and I used to get much too drunk,” the anemo archon laughed. 

Though only dear Kaeya has grown up with a true appreciation for the spirits, the wind rushed around him, causing Venti to shake his head. He knew, of course, the double meaning in the statement. 

“One day, Diluc’s time will come in full. I am sure of it, but for now, you and I both know Kaeya needed our help more,” said Venti. 

There was a meaningful pause, and for a moment the wind didn’t blow at all. Venti had no issues, though. The voices of the wind didn’t say anything unless they needed to. He listened to the gusts of Mondstadt, of the ceremony that Kaeya was going through, and smiled. He was sure now that Kaeya was on the path once again to be alright. 

What would have happened , Crepus asked, if either of us had chosen wrong?

“For you,” Venti said, “you would have gotten everything you ever wanted, chosen by the knights. You would have been a hero, but no father to your sons. And when you eventually died, because you would have died in battle, he would’ve been all alone. It would’ve been the end of the winery, and one of Mond’s greatest legacies.” 

Then why? Why let us make a choice? Crepus asked. 

“Love,” said Venti. “It is not love, if it is not free. The burden you carried, and the burden your boys will now carry is not a small one, but it is rooted in love. And love never fails. I had faith in you to do the right thing.” 

And Kaeya? 

Venti smiled, strumming the harp himself a few times. “That, I can’t yet tell you, for that has to do with events yet to come. But know this, Crepus, your sons are destined for great things. And one day, I will look forward to their true friendship, just like the one between you and me.”

Crepus’ wind went silent, and so Venti listened closely. In between the strands of Barbara congratulating Kaeya on his confirmation, Jean’s happy whispers of the joy of her captain, and Diluc’s quiet support, he could hear the strands of the future coming together. On the horizon, far enough away that he couldn’t see it, and yet close enough for it to be in the wind, a traveler from another world was preparing to come to Teyvat. Venti smiled. Indeed, the sons of Crepus were destined for great things.