The first time Kaeya met Jean's mother, he knew he could not mess up.
Her gaze was sharp.
Almost too sharp.
Made him straighten his back and plaster a polite smile.
But her intense gaze on him only lasted for a moment.
And Kaeya felt like he failed something.
Like he didn't meet the expectations her mother wanted to see.
Jean did not even flinch.
She stood proudly, as the daughter of her standing should.
When they were away, Jean looked at Kaeya.
Kaeya looked at Jean.
"You're doing great, Kaeya," she told him.
Smiled honestly as she gripped his shoulder, "You're doing so well."
And Kaeya believed her.
._._._._._.
When Diluc woke up, he sat at the edge of his bed.
He was at a loss.
He really didn't know what to do with himself anymore.
Grief was all he felt when he woke up.
It swallowed him whole and gnarled at his bones.
Made him want to curl away from the savage onslaught.
Made his ears ring with a silence that couldn't be broken.
Ajax was there.
Still fussing over him and forcing him lay back down.
But Diluc stopped his arms with a single touch on his wrist.
A gesture Diluc used to give Kaeya when he panicked.
"I'm okay," he lied.
Ajax didn't give a damn apparently, "Next time you go off on your own—"
Cerulean bore into crimson, "Take me with you."
Diluc really looked at him then.
The anger on Ajax's face was as clear as day with the pinched smile on his lips.
And Diluc laughed.
It was probably the worst time to laugh.
But he couldn't help it.
Was this all just a farce?
Was this really happening to him?
He fell into an endless, endless night—
Only to end up somewhere so far from home—
To end up locked into place because this damn Delusion—
(All because of a simple metal bird that flew by him that day.)
Ajax's expression grew tighter, like he didn't know what to do.
Diluc didn't know either.
Maybe he was finally losing whatever sense of sanity he deluded himself in having.
Diluc laughed until his voice cracked and choked over a sob.
Maybe it was because it finally hit him.
His father was gone.
Had been gone for months.
The delusion that sat on his hand was his proof.
He needed to go home—
He needed to see Kaeya—
He needed to go home.
To Monsdtadt.
Diluc should've left Snheznaya when he woke in Ajax's home.
Should've done something to get back home.
But.
Anxiety gripped Diluc like a wretched claw around his neck.
Diluc—
Diluc wasn't exactly mortal.
He always hadn't been mortal.
Yet, he wasn't immortal either.
But knowing what he was had changed a lot of things.
Could he really walk back in to Mondstadt the way he was now?
It almost seemed like his old life was so far away.
That it happened such a long time ago.
And yet— it couldn't have been longer than a year since then.
He was either declared dead or missing in Mondstadt at this point—
He could probably ask someone, anyone about his home.
But Diluc was afraid of the answer.
Too afraid to face the truth.
Would his people even accept him if they knew what he was?
Would they fear him if he appeared before them now?
Would Kaeya welcome him back?
Diluc was afraid of the answer.
He was a coward.
And he knew it.
Diluc buried his face into his hands.
He needed answers.
He desperately needed it.
And he knew.
He knew just who to ask.
Who to find.
Ajax wouldn't know the answer.
Dottore might.
Scaramouche probably would.
Pierro absolutely would know the answer.
Yet, there was someone he had immediate access to.
Someone who granted him such a terrible power.
And hell, he was so damn scared to ask.
But Diluc was still a Ragnvindr.
A young man that shouldered burdens with naivety.
Diluc finally looked up at Ajax.
Terrified crimson bore into anxious cerulean.
"Take me to the Tsaritsa."
Ajax looked at him.
Really looked at him.
He searched for something.
What for, Diluc didn't have the slightest clue.
Seconds turned into moments.
Until Ajax finally spoke.
"No."
If Diluc was supposed to be upset, he didn't feel it.
Instead, he closed his eyes and released a shaky breath.
He didn't deny the relief that flooded his veins.
Or the oppressing weight on his chest lifted by a fraction.
He dropped his head on Ajax's shoulder.
Felt a hand running in his hair.
"You can do that later."
Diluc did not answer.
._._._._._.
Kaeya had wondered once.
Why he hadn't seen a single picture of Diluc's mother.
It wasn't hard to know that she passed.
When, he didn't know.
He asked Diluc once, if he remembered her.
Diluc looked at him then.
With an hand slowly digging into his arm.
"No. She died while I was too young to rememeber."
He looked away soon after.
Stared at anything but Kaeya's face.
His knuckles grew white as his grip tightened.
Those crimson eyes held a near unreadable expression.
"I'm told that I look like her. Although, I can't say so myself."
Diluc laughed then, waving him off with a smile all too forced.
Even used a half baked lie about being late for the never ending work.
Kaeya remembered burning the tiny red splotches on Diluc's sleeve into his memory.
Even seared the words his brother spoke when he thought he was far out range.
He remembered it very clearly.
"I look like mother, huh?"
Even though they were barely above a whisper.
"It must be painful to look at me."
Kaeya didn't dare to ask Master Crepus back then.
Not when he looked at Diluc as if he was afraid.
Not when he looked at Diluc as if he was pained.
He noticed those looks before.
He defined it as a father too afraid to lose the last of his family.
Kaeya wondered if his own father looked at him like that once.
But it was too crude of a whimsical wish to even dare to consider.
Maybe that was why Kaeya nearly spluttered when shattered glass resounded.
He accidentally knocked over a frame in his late father's office.
The glass shattered.
The aged photo of the three of them shifted.
The very first picture Kaeya had ever taken with them.
Where Diluc stood beside their father, a smile light and bright.
Where Kaeya stood on the other side, a smile nervous and shy.
Where their father sat between them, a smile so proud.
Another face peaked underneath.
One that looked eerily familiar.
When Kaeya pried it out, he almost laughed.
The yellowed photo crinkled in his grip.
Dark hair framed a kind expression.
Fell past her shoulders freely.
Dressed like an adventurer than a noble.
Posed to leave than to stay.
A claymore by her side.
The hilt in her grip.
She was lovely.
Free spirited.
Held a smile that mirrored Diluc's—
Kaeya didn't understand why his eyes teared up.
Why he started to grieve for a woman long gone.
It struck him then.
How crude it was for him to see his mother first before Diluc ever could.
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.
._._._._._.
Diluc grieved deeply.
Childe couldn't empathize with him.
He knew nothing of the pain that drowned the Firefly.
He couldn't imagine how he'd feel if he lost his own family.
The mere thought of it wasn't something he dared to dwell on.
(Maybe that was why he enjoyed the thrill of battle instead.)
Childe reached out to him.
He held out a hand to Diluc.
Whose face was blank and shoulders slack.
"Come with me."
Diluc stared at his hand.
Blinked at it once, twice, thrice.
And finally grabbed it.
._._._._._.
The ground was alight with a flame that burned endlessly.
It flickered and warmed the frozen air.
A broken claymore rested in Diluc's hand.
Still missing half of its steel and its cracks grew in number.
Oddly enough, it still worked like any other claymore.
Diluc had compensated the missing chunk with concentrated pyro in its stead.
Possibly a trick he learned from Childe.
Childe stood ahead of him, smearing the blood off his corner of his lips.
Diluc got him good.
Scored a heavy hit to his face without remorse.
Right along with a burn on his leg and a deep cut on his shoulder.
Then again, Childe specifically told him to not hold back.
He, himself, wasn't holding back either.
Diluc's side was definitely nicked.
One eye closed shut because of a bleeding cut above it.
The coat desperately needed repairs.
Maybe he possibly hit the side of his brother's head a little too hard.
Hell, Childe wouldn't be surprised if the Tsaritsa would give them the look when they would return.
If anything, Childe was glad he had the foresight to drag them both to the outskirts of the city.
No other Harbinger was there to stop them.
(If they cared enough about it.)
No Fatui sane enough to jump in to stop such a vicious spar.
(Why would they if they valued their lives a little?)
They were at a standstill.
A lull in the battle's beat.
Childe's blood roared with exhilaration.
It reminded him of the first time he sparred with the Firefly.
In the woods of his hometown.
That time where he wondered how much stronger the Firefly would be at full strength.
That time where Mother made him swear not to spar with Diluc for half a year.
Childe stuck to that promise.
Mother would definitely know if he broke it.
(A mother always, always, always seemed to know.)
Now, nearly a year later— Diluc lacked the gracefulness Childe had first experienced.
Until he adjusted to the weight of his odd sort of claymore.
Childe lost count how many times Diluc dismissed his own weapon to call it back again.
As if Diluc was suddenly trying to compensate for something unusual.
And each time, the flames burned a little brighter.
Burned a little hotter.
Childe couldn't help but notice how Diluc began to change in front of him.
The pent up tension slowly bled from stiff shoulders.
Clouded, grieving eyes steadily became clearer and clearer.
The lingering anxiety seemed to melt from his skin and bones.
Diluc's body still hadn't completely recovered yet.
But the Firefly seemed to slip into that certain grace.
The one forever forged from the Abyss.
Crimson bore into cerulean, "Hey, didn't you promise Mother you wouldn't spar with me?"
The battle hungry rush in Childe's veins hummed to life once more.
Cerulean lit up, "Only for half a year."
Their weapons clashed.
Pyro burning the flood of Hydro.
Hydro extinguishing the wall of Pyro.
Steam clouded their vision.
Just like that spar months and months ago in those woods.
An odd silence blanketed the battle torn grounds as the steam cleared.
Childe leaned against the Firefly's heaving form, back to back.
For a moment, he paused.
Was Diluc always this short?
He tilted his head back, lightly bumping Diluc's.
"Feel better now?"
Diluc was still for a moment longer.
The seconds ticked away in Childe's head.
Until crimson flooded Childe's vision.
Those locks falling back as Diluc tilted his head toward him.
"Yes."
._._._._._._.
Childe was wrong.
The moment they stepped past the gates of Zapolyarny Palace, La Signora was there.
Even gave Childe that look that spoke volumes.
Signora placed a hand on her hip, "Finally done beating each other into the snow?"
"It's called sparring," Childe snarked, a half-assed smile on his face.
Diluc actually snorted at that.
The Eighth rolled her eyes and tossed a few rags at them.
"Clean yourselves up. Her Majesty wishes to speak to you both."
There was a small drop of dread in Childe's stomach, but it didn't last.
Signora turned on her heel and left them alone.
Childe looked at the Firefly.
Diluc didn't bother picking up the rag.
He smeared whatever undried blood on his face with the back of his hand.
Any semblance of any noble upbringing was gone for a moment.
Childe almost laughed and spoke instead, "I can go by myself."
Because Childe wasn't sure if the other was ready yet.
Because Childe remembered when the Firefly shook when he demanded to meet her.
But Diluc shook his head, wincing at the movement, "No. I'll go with you."
Childe looked at him.
Really looked at him.
He tried to search for that dreaded fear.
That self imposed insecurity.
Or that griping anxiety.
But found none of it.
Those crimson eyes were clear.
Wary, but determined.
Childe smiled, "Then let's clean up."
._._._._._.
Diluc wouldn't lie.
He felt wary, maybe even afraid to see the Tsaritsa.
Maybe it was because he came to realize something disturbing.
The "spar" with Ajax forced him to refocus.
Forced him out of his grief.
It made him wonder how much of this was orchestrated.
How much planning had fallen out of window when he arrived here.
How many lies were buried deep beneath the Tsaritsa's cold, cold eyes.
Diluc wasn't sure if he was angry anymore.
Maybe he was hallow.
Empty—
But he was far too aware to be listless.
Maybe he learned to take that anger and turn it into something else.
Anger from his father keeping so many lies.
Anger from the clear hand the Fatui had in his Father's death.
Anger from his shitty situation—
Diluc was a wreck of emotions underneath.
But the spar made everything boil down to one thing.
He needed answers.
And he knew just where to get them.
._._._._._.
The Tsaritsa waited for them.
She was not seated at her throne.
She stood at the foot of the steps, hands still at her sides.
Her cold, cold eyes slowly blinked up, "Tartaglia, Diluc."
Ajax fell to one knee at the address, "Your Majesty."
Diluc followed him soon after, echoing his words.
(Even though she wasn't his leader.
Mondstadt had no such thing.)
The air felt awfully heavy.
Thick with a sense of approaching frost.
Diluc was rather wary of it.
But his drive to unearth the truth made him stay.
The Tsaritsa spoke, "I did not call both of you for pleasantries."
Her voice was oddly sharp, straight to the point.
It made Diluc look up, meeting her cold eyes.
She never failed to look directly at him.
As if she knew absolutely everything about him.
Knew every little thing he wanted.
Diluc didn't falter.
"You seek answers."
Her statement was blunt.
Cutting the frosty air ruthlessly.
Diluc didn't bother to confirm what she clearly knew.
She looked to Ajax with the same cold eyes.
"You seek to understand my actions."
Ajax looked her.
Honesty clear in his eyes as he smiled.
"Then let us not waste another moment."
The Tsaritsa moved.
Her skirts fluttered in the graceful turn.
Bits of frost shattered off the edge of the fabric.
A testimony of how long she stood there.
Only to gesture them to follow.
"Follow me."
._._._._._.
She led them past the throne room.
And into the depths of a stairway behind it.
It spiraled downward, leading them deeper and deeper into the land.
As they decended, she told them a story.
Of how the skies used to be filled with Phoenixes.
A time the first Cryo Archon had lived
Until the Archon War came and tore them away.
Of how they fought under the gods that captured them.
Willingly or not.
They served their masters until their wings were ripped from their backs.
Until their very soul were torn apart and shattered beyond recovery.
Ajax had gripped Diluc's arm at that.
"I will not let that happen to you," he breathed under his breath.
And Diluc believed him.
When they reached the bottom, the usual iron wires had turned into frozen stone.
The pillars around them looked more and more like the ruins in Mondstadt.
The ruins on Dragonspine.
Diluc could feel the cold cutting into his bones.
As if they were deep within a glacier beneath the grand Palace above them.
The Tsaritsa came to a stop before a large stone arch.
The corners of the stone arch was frozen over.
Frost crawled from the walls to the enormous seal that barred its entry.
She turned to them.
"When the Archon War ended, many sought for solace. Begged for it."
Her face was empty of expression.
"I have lost count how many came to me, asking for their rest."
Diluc felt his Vision flicker beneath his coat, well hidden from sight.
"I'm not here to ask for mine," he told her.
Brutally honest.
But the expression on her face did not change.
"I did not bring you here for that."
The Tsaritsa held a hand to the glowing seal, "I brought you both here to make a choice."
When the seal fell away, a large cavern expanded before them.
Hundreds of large chunks of frosted ice were imbedded into the walls.
Into the huge stalagmites and stalactites.
Every single one shimmered from the light that spilled forth.
The Tsaritsa did not spare them a moment to admire the vast beauty.
There wasn't a need to.
Because when Diluc stepped through the seal into the cavern, he felt it.
Something so old, so ancient flooded through his bones and blood.
He knew this presence.
He never noticed it from himself— but he knew it.
Ajax grabbed his shoulders, holding him upright when he stumbled.
"You okay?" he asked.
The awe in his voice was there, but concern flooded over his tone.
Diluc moved to answer.
To tell him what every single one of those ice crystals held—
But the Tsaritsa spoke first, "Every single one had a dear wish I swore to keep."
She gently brushed her hand against one ice crystal.
Diluc shared a look with Ajax.
Cerulean were getting wider and wider by the second.
Maybe it was because of the still figures that laid within each and every one.
Figures from all walks of life.
Asleep forever peacefully.
Frozen beneath the ice.
Every single one of them a Phoenix locked in time.
Her expression finally changed.
Her lips curled with a rueful smile.
And Diluc's own heart began to beat a little faster.
His mind began to race faster and faster.
"Come, Little Phoenix," she called to him.
She stood before an ice crystal by the side.
Waited patiently for them with expectancy.
Ajax held his hand now.
It was a tight grip that grounded Diluc in reality.
Together, they moved forward.
Step by step, the figure within the ice began clearer and clearer.
Dark hair framed a kind face.
A sleeping face that looked eerily like his own.
The Tsaritsa smiled, "This one had a wonderful, loving wish."
"Diluc…?" Ajax's voice was laced in confusion.
Maybe even disbelief.
But Diluc felt his legs crumble beneath him.
Felt his heart plummet faster than before.
And he breathed a single strangled word.
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"Mother?"
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