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They met in the dead of night just outside the cathedral. The moon hangs low in the sky, washing Albedo's already pale skin into shining white and softening the rigid vertices of Kaeya's faltering smirk. There is much to be said but neither move to speak, instead letting the silence dullen the sharp blade of the truth to come, the sword of condemnation that would settle at their necks once daybreak arrived. But for now they were still.
It was Albedo who, uncharacteristically, broke the silence. His voice was as mellow as ever, light in a way that made him appear almost bored, but the weight of his words could be seen in cracks beneath his skin where a deep corruption simmered and in the slow beat of blood rushing through the veins in Kaeya's eyes.
"I once tried my hand at pottery."
Kaeya turned slowly from where his gaze had been tracing the architecture of the city's upper square, eyes searching for an explanation to Albedo's sudden comment. He was aware that his companion was a man with no need for subtlety, if this was his way of easing the blow of the talk to come, then this was, at most, a laughable attempt. Yet Kaeya held his tongue, quirked his lips and inclined his head in a gesture of permission that he had never been asked to grant. Albedo continued.
"I hadn't realised how soft the wet clay was. I would spend hours and hours rolling it between my hands, shaping, crafting it into something beautiful. But my thumbs would press too hard, my nails dig too deep, my fingers would rip apart the clay until it was left more formless, more broken than when I had started. It is then I realised that my hands were incapable of fragility."
Albedo sighed, holding a hand up above his face as if he could capture the threads of the moon, as if he could weave its lustre into a pair of silken gloves that could contain the raw destructive power that pulsated beneath his skin.
"Mond is like that clay. It is a wet, formless slab of earth. Its sculptor must use gentle hands and intentional touches to shape it into a city for the free truly. But Kaeya, I am no sculptor. I am no artist. The corruption in me is meant to burn this clay city to the ground until it is nothing but fissures and cracks in dried pottery. If I stay, I will crush this city into something so shapeless even the God's cannot restore it. For the sake of the city that shaped the mask that I wear, that formed the eyes in which I see the splendour of life, I must leave."
Silence followed his confession. Kaeya could hear the slow, creaking turn of windmills in the distance, could feel the sharp caress of wind against his exposed chest. Albedo's words had ripped apart the bloodied cage he had built around his truth and had dragged its carcass for it to be laid at the feet of his blond prince. Honesty had always left a bitter taste in his mouth, as if he had dragged his tongue against his teeth after throwing up. And weren't they similar in a sick sort of way? Both included coughing up was buried deep inside, both were things that were meant to stay hidden. The truth was the bile of the body that was Kaeya's livelihood.
"I had always thought this city would go down in flames. Be it by my hands, or yours or some strange beast from the Abyss, I had always thought this city would go down in a blaze of glory. It was comforting until it wasn't. Albedo, fire is all-consuming, it burns and melts but worst of all it leaves nothing behind. I do not want Kaeya, Calvary Captain of the Knights of Favonious to be burnt off the face of this world. This is the one mask I want to stay intact"
He paused for breath, dragging a hand across his face.
"I cannot see this world like the citizens of Mond do. There is something fundamentally wrong with me, whether it is because my eyes have been carved into by the abyss or because there was something sinister forming in me since before I had taken my first breath, I do not know. But, I cannot stay, I must leave."
Kaeya laughed, a hollow sound that seemed to cut across the space between the pair, and Albedo reached out a hand to smooth at his hair before cradling his face between his hands and resting his forehead against Kaeya's. Their slow inhales and exhales seemed to slowly draw out the hysteria from Kaeya's lungs and allowed him to focus on the blue of Albedo's eyes. They were gorgeous, the teal reminding him of the crystal seas of his homeland and the thrum of the Irminsul that ran deep through the veins of Khaenriah.
They sighed, a heavy sound and it was almost as if the weight of it could be felt against their shoulders.
The silence stretched on, the two of them lost in thoughts of warm red. Kaeya thought of his brother, though estranged he knew that Diluc still regarded him with care, be it the free cups of water during his time at the bar or the sharp reprimands about his drinking habits, loving concern cloaked in biting spite. He thought of lips twisted in betrayal, a claymore swung in rage and his vision pinged at the memory of the first time he had truly considered death. Kaeya was a weak man, this he knew, and the very thought of having to face the wrath of Diluc's rage if he razed Mondstadt was enough for him to make a decision. He would leave.
Detachedly, Kaeya thought about the other Mondstadt residents, Sara, Wagner, Katheryne and all the others who were the string that bound Mond together, and realised that their death weighed little to nothing on his heart. A monster through and through, he had no place amongst the painfully humane citizens of Mond.
Next to him, Albedo thought of sunshine, wrapped in flesh and dropped at his doorstep the day Alice had departed on her journey. He thought of nights spent with Klee, a book between their laps, excited, youthful laughter cooling the ire of corruption under his false skin. He flinched minutely as his mind conjured images of blond hair covered in blood, red eyes dull and lifeless, and as he looked down at his hands, clenched so tightly into fists that droplets of crimson had pebbled upon his palms. He could not, no he would not, risk her safety, he would not be the hand that snuffed out her light. He had made his decision. He would leave.
Time seemed to slow once their preparations began. They had decided to meet again in 3 days time at the Mondstadts gates. Enough time to sort out the more practical aspects of their leave and to reconcile themselves with their future fates as wanderers without a home. They had no plan of where they would be going, discussions on location had halted at an ambiguous "away" which could mean anything from the plains of Guili to the dandelions 2 metres outside of Mond's gates. It was the looseness of their plans that betrayed the nonchalance they tried to portray. The prospect of life outside the city cast a cloud of quiet dread over them though neither would admit it
Kaeya, as Mondstadts infamous Cavalry Captain, knew his absence would cause great unrest amongst the citizens of the city. In order to be as vague as possible without implying that he was running of to die, Kaeya had to formulate a plan that would allow him to lead Jean and the other knights on a trail that seemed so similar to the truth, they would be unaware when Kaeya's truths had morphed into lies.
However, knowing Jean, him disappearing under the pretense of a "vacation" and never returning would alarm her before it would reassure her. Never before had Kaeya expressed any desire to abandon his position as Calvary Captain permanently or temporarily and Jean was a close enough friend to understand that he would never leave without what he deemed a valid reason. The problem with this plan was that Jean simply knew him too well to take his casual words at face value.
His mind has been running in circles for what seemed like a millenia, ideas cropping up before being executed by the sharp axe of his critical eye and analytical mind. Before he knew it, morning had turned to evening and he was no closer to formulating a plan that would successfully allow him to leave and cause a minimal amount of collateral damage.
Distantly, he knew that he would have to resort to extremes. He could deliver the news with bold-faced deceit or unmask himself before the Acting Grandmaster and let her judgment decide whether he left in good favour. Despite being a man of many talents, honesty had never come easily and he felt his eyebrow twitch at the thought of Jean reacting in a similar way to... no, he would not blame his hesitance on Diluc. His home had weaved the skill of deceit into veins and it had aided him well before the blessing of the Tsarita that hung at his hip. But for once, almost as a strange parting gift, Kaeya wanted to reveal to his friend the scarred, trembling flesh behind his many masks.
Standing up, he put out the light of a candle that had been illuminating his room. He would consult with Albedo later.
Albedo's master had once told him about the ancient practice of baptism. Submersion in water to cleanse sin so deeply woven into human nature that even the smallest of children could not escape it. A proclamation of new life in their chosen deity.
And as Albedo crushed the shivada jade under his pestle, as he laid his hand upon the broken petals of a mist flower, he amused himself with the idea that in a past life, he would have made a very very good priest.
Life had been an ever present constant in his life as a student of the art of Khemia. In its purest form, Khemia was artificial birth, creating things anew from things that were once formless. He himself had been a product of this. Primordial, baseless chalk now crafted into beating flesh and rushing blood. And whilst his master had blessed him with living breath, Klee had blessed him with living light.
Folding the letter in his hands, he thought of his past fear of the dark. Traversing through domains as a child (was he really ever a child? He was barely human to begin with) had caused him to become wary of dark spaces. Often hilichurls and slimes would make their homes in the hidden corners of the domain halls and had caught him off guard many a time. Leaving Klee behind was like venturing into the vast emptiness. She had become such a presence and an influence in his life that what he was about to do almost felt like a death sentence. He had once read that death was the absence of being, and his being had been so centred around Klee and Mond (he was a brother, an alchemist and a knight before he was Albedo) that leaving it all behind must be the equivalent to living death.
Still, he raised a hand to Sucrose's room, knuckles tapping against the door and then returning to his side as he heard a quick "Give me a minute!" and the telltale sign of frantic shuffling in an attempt at last minute cleaning. After receiving permission, he pushed open the door and sat down at her small round table. The room smelt faintly like perfume, a dainty floral scent that was almost shy in its delicacy. He felt it suited her very well.
"Mr, I mean Albedo! Sir! What can I do for you?" She asked as she sat down opposite him, hands twiddling nervously in her lap as Albedo looked at her. He felt that if he did not commit her face to memory now, he may never get the chance to.
After a moment's silence, he cleared his throat and placed the letter on the table. Calling it a letter was a formality, it was simply a list of times and advice for raising Klee and a notice of his prolonged absence.
Sucrose picked up the letter, running a finger against the edge before slicing the paper envelope with a sharp nail and lifting the contents to her eyes. Her eyes flitted from side to side as she absorbed the words on the page and she inhaled before placing the paper back onto the table and securing it with a green paper weight.
"Albedo sir. What does this mean?" Her voice was barely a whisper but pitched high with incredulity and nervousness. Albedo exhaled silently. He was aware that this was sudden and the half-assed explanation he was about to give would not begin to answer even a fraction of the questions he could see Sucrose was begging to ask going by the trembling of her fingers.
"I am" He paused. "Captain Kaeya and I are going on a trip outside of Mondstadt. We are unsure when we will return. I would appreciate it if you and the Knights took over watching Klee whilst I am gone."
She opened her mouth to ask a question but he held up a hand and it snapped shut.
"I know you have questions. I know this is a heavy request, I just ask that you trust me and do what is best for Klee. I always have her best interests in mind"
After a beat, Sucrose nodded slowly and the room elapsed into silence.
Kaeya had seldom felt fear when nearing an establishment that dealt with alcohol. Hailed infamously as Mond’s most impressive drinker, aside the little green bard, he had cemented himself as something resembling a prince in the city in regards to drinking at least. The irony of that title was not lost on him.
However, as he stretched his hands towards the knob on the door of Angel’s share to open the door, he felt his fingers tremble, his breath quicken and his heart race.
Diluc turned to glance at the door, a scowl quickly settling on his face as the fluffy hide of his cloak became visible through the doorway and Kaeya felt his body tense ever so slightly. Whilst reconciliation was not on the horizon for them, over the years they had managed to create a somewhat peaceful truce with the heat of a promise of Diluc’s blade on his neck should he betray the winds reminding Kaeya that what broke that night could never truly be fixed.
Kaeya could lie like he was born to, because he had been born to, and often prided himself on being a master of deception. But the weight of his falsities had chipped away at the strength of his soul since he had arrived in Mond and seeing the ever familiar scowl of his brother, feeling the draft from the swinging door hit his back and hearing the chatter of the patrons within the tavern, Kaeya could feel himself shatter.
Wiping his hands on his trousers, Kaeya walked towards the bar, leaving the broken pieces of himself in his wake.
By the time he’d reached Diluc, there was a glass of wine sliding across to him, the scent of Death After Noon causing his heart to shudder, and he felt himself go cold, painfully so, as if his vision had finally turned on him as it should have four years ago, he who hailed from those Godless lands.
A heavy hand on his shoulder jolted him harshly back into himself, his gaze shifting from the deep maroon of the wine to the blazing red of his brother. Diluc’s scowl had been twisted unseemingly across his face, concern causing lines to grace his forehead and cheeks. Kaeya for his faults, was at least self aware and the knowledge of just how undeserving of Diluc’s care he was tightened around his neck like a noose and left him swinging from a plank like the damned man he was.
“If you’re going to sit and stare into space, I’d prefer it if you did so elsewhere”
Concern had morphed to irritation at Kaeya’s inattentiveness and he felt himself tilt back from where he had been so off kilter. Smiling wryly, he dragged his finger across the rim of his glass before tilting the wine to his lips and draining, settling the glass back down as he finished, eyes never leaving Diluc.
“Why Master Diluc, who would have thought that my mere presence was such a bother! Indeed I am most offended, I demand another glass as compensation. On the house of course.”
Diluc sighed but complied, turning to prepare another drink as Kaeya used this time to slip the letter he’d prepared from his back pocket across the bar. Once his drink was handed to him, he stood up, back to the bar as he spoke over his shoulder, hoping to exude an air of sophisticated nonchalance.
“You know where to find me once you’ve read it.”
Kaeya’s father had once warned him about the sun. Khaenri’ah, or the Abyss as they were one in the same, did not experience sunset or sunrise, they had no knowledge of warmth on their backs and all-encompassing light. His home had been dark but it had not been desolate and when that was all he had known, Kaeya believed himself to be happy. His father had warned him of the agent of the gods that hung bright between Tevyat’s blue sky. He had told him times without number about how Celestia had used this vile thing to smite the moons, the only divine ones to smile upon his people. He weaved stories of burnt flesh, searing warmth and blinded eyes. But what he had warned him most about was the cold that it left in its wake. When all had been burnt to cinders, there remained a cold so blistering and a dark so deep that those left behind would have been better off dead.
If Mondstadt was his sun, then this journey was the ever-winter of its absence. Kaeya had never been scared of the cold but he had feared the dark more than he’d cared to admit. With darkness came vulnerability and with vulnerability came the cold tendrils of the abyss that would corrupt his soul to a point of no return. Mondstadt had been his saving grace and leaving would damn him.
The slow creak of his office door alerted Kaeya to his brother’s presence and the thought of the conversation to come had Kaeya more exhausted than he had felt in years. The pinched, betrayed look on Diluc’s face did not offer any comfort.
“If this is your idea of a joke, it’s not funny Kaeya.”
Kaeya smiled. Trust Diluc to suspect deceit where he had bared his soul to him. And who was Kaeya to blame him? He had spent his years in Mond portraying himself as a man who was facets upon facets, each as fake as the other.
“It’s all true Diluc. You of all people should know the severity of what lies beneath my patch. I thought surrounding myself with good people would allow me to grasp at what little humanity I had. Instead, the differences between me and them became so apparent I spent everyday in fear that they would see me for the monster that I am.”
He drew in a shuddering breath.
“I was never made for honest smiles and freeing winds, and if my own self imposed exile is what will preserve this city that has given me everything I have ever wished for and nothing I have deserved then so be it. If I had to rip my beating heart from the chest to keep this city standing, Irminsul below, I would.”
Diluc stared at him, face pinched and back straight before he let out a sigh, his body deflating in defeat as he walked towards Kaeya, his heavy footfalls stark against the silence. Kaeya prepared himself for a slap, a punch, a hand in his hair to fling him against a wall, harm and hurt that he so desperately deserved but never came. Diluc wrapped him arms around his brother’s shoulders and held him tightly, voice tight as he spoke.
“Write to me. Keep safe. And let me know where you are occasionally.” He hesitated for a second before speaking.
“And take care of yourself.”
And as Diluc stepped aside, collected the letter and walked out of the door, Kaeya let himself cry for the first time since he had been taught not to.
Meeting up a day before their departure had made their decision seem all too real. Raising his hand to knock at Jean’s door had taken everything out of Kaeya and it was only the reassurance of Albedo’ presence that had stopped him from turning on his heels and fleeing in panic.
After receiving confirmation to enter, the pair stepped forwards, Kaeya frowning as he eyed the dark circles under Jean’s eyes and the dishevelled state of her hair. She smiled as she looked up, pleased as ever to see Kaeya and Albedo, but upon noticing how tense the pair was, she quickly ushered them to sit down, standing up to lock the door behind her.
As Kaeya drew in breath to speak, Jean held up a hand to stop him before returning to her seat.
“Diluc has already informed me.”
All breath left Kaeya’s body and his eye throbbed in time with his frantic heartbeat.
“And I understand. I wish things were different, I wish I could help but I understand this is something you must do. So my dear Kaeya, Albedo”
Jean drew in a breath, wet with her tears and holding the weight of her sorrow. She had always felt things so deeply and Kaeya had loved her immensely for it.
“May the wind lead you.”