Mourning Period

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/48218725.

Rating: General Audiences

Archive Warning: Major Character Death
Fandom: 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game)
Relationships: Diluc & Kaeya (Genshin Impact), Diluc & Jean (Genshin Impact), Diluc
& Jean & Kaeya (Genshin Impact), Kaeya & Klee (Genshin Impact),
Bennett & Kaeya (Genshin Impact)
Characters: Diluc (Genshin Impact), Kaeya (Genshin Impact), Jean (Genshin
Impact), Adelinde (Genshin Impact), Bennett (Genshin Impact), Rosaria
(Genshin Impact), Venti (Genshin Impact), Traveler (Genshin Impact)
Additional Tags: Diluc and Jean and Kaeya are Childhood Friends (Genshin Impact),
Major Character Undeath, It has a good ending I promise I just need to
explore Diluc and Jean's feelings for a bit, Diluc and Kaeya are Siblings
(Genshin Impact), Kaeya Angst (Genshin Impact), Diluc and Jean are
Childhood Friends (Genshin Impact), Diluc Angst (Genshin Impact),
Diluc is Protective of Kaeya (Genshin Impact), POV Diluc (Genshin
Impact), Mondstadt Lore (Genshin Impact), Betaed
Language: English
Stats: Published: 2023-06-29 Updated: 2024-04-17 Words: 12,073 Chapters:
4/6
 Mourning Period
by marshymeds

Summary

When someone passes away in Mondstadt, the seven days of mourning are a customary
sending-off for the deceased. Their family and loved ones keep their spirit company, grieve
their loss, and celebrate their lives before delivering their soul into the hands of the anemo
Archon and letting them go.

But Diluc hadn’t ever considered he would be overseeing his own brother’s funeral. As the
seven days progress he finds it increasingly difficult to let go of Kaeya, bolstered by the
memory of an ancient legend he overheard years before concerning the mourning period and
the Statues of the Seven….

Notes
See the end of the work for notes
 Prologue

“Hmm…”

Diluc tapped the table aimlessly as he waited for Kaeya to take his turn. The chess board sat
positioned at the center of the bar, two rows of fallen pieces lined on either side to watch their
fellows continue the game without them. One of the rows was growing much longer than the
other and it was beginning to annoy him. “Are you going?”

“Impatient today, are we?” Kaeya said, but finally leaned forward and slid a black pawn into
place.

“I’m not being impatient. You’re being slow.”

“Last I heard, chess was a game of logic, which sometimes requires a bit of thought. Maybe
if you took your time you might beat me more often.”

Diluc ignored the comment and resurveyed the board. Their game had lasted two hours
already—far longer than he had intended to spend any quality time with the captain. But the
morning had been slow, and few visitors sought the comfort of the tavern during the early
daylight hours of the city’s Weinlessefest. He had indulged him for once.

He moved the white bishop after a long pause.

Kaeya leaned forward on both arms, glancing over the board before knocking a castle over
with his queen. “One of these days, the two of us won’t be together for such family holidays
you know.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that one of us will be gone eventually.”

Diluc moved a pawn. “You aren’t going to guilt trip me into giving you free wine today. I
already said no.”

Kaeya laughed and sat back on the stool, shaking his head. He thought for a moment and then
moved a castle.

Diluc followed suit. The silent tavern felt like a strange backdrop to a chess game, and the
more he thought about it, he began to wonder when the last time he had even played chess in
Angels Share was. When he was a knight, maybe.

“Which of us will go first, do you think?” Kaeya hummed, looking absently at one of the
white pawns in his hand.

“Take your turn, Kaeya.”

Kaeya sighed and sat forward again, moving his own black pawn. Diluc could see several
pieces getting dangerously close to checkmating his king and he was anxious to get the loss
over with. He moved his knight.

“What do you say we make a bet?”

“I don’t make bets. Take your turn.”

“Oh? Well, you certainly have the means for it, and it’s not like the loser will be around to
enforce anything. One bottle of wine says you outlive me.”

He shot a dark look at him and Kaeya sighed again, reluctantly taking his turn.

“You’re no fun.”

“Your idea of fun is a bit different than most.” He moved a white knight again.

“Mm.”

Diluc's eye twitched slightly as Kaeya knocked another castle over rather than simply picking
it up first.

Kaeya propped his chin up as Diluc glared down at the board in thought. “At least I’m no
sore loser. I’m glad to see you’re acting a bit like your older self, though—you used to get so
terribly angry any time I beat you.”

“I’m not angry, I just don’t like you dragging the game out. You know what you’re doing.”

Kaeya feigned remorse. “How dare I want to spend quality time with my brother.”

Diluc kept himself from rolling his eyes as he studied his few remaining pieces. He could feel
Kaeya’s eye on him, but before he had the chance to ask, the tavern door swung open.

Amber stood in the doorway, flowers affixed neatly in her hair and Paimon hovered over one
shoulder. “Kaeya! There you are—it’s almost time for our shift at the Knights of Favonius
charity stall! We’re going to be late!”

Kaeya turned from the bar. “Already?” He glanced at the clock on the mantle as Diluc
hesitantly set his piece down. “…Alright, I’ll meet you by the gate in ten minutes.”

Amber gave him a short salute and let the door fall closed, presumably to head in the
direction of the city wall.

“A shame, just when the game was getting good.”

“Don’t use me as an excuse to be lazy.”

“Me? Lazy?” Kaeya laughed as he pushed himself up from the stool and took a stretch.
“Never.”
“Mm.”

“Well I’d love to stay, but I have to help out our dear traveler for the afternoon. Ah, but it
seems I was about to lose anyways. Oh well.”

Diluc stared at the board.

“Until next time then,” Kaeya said wistfully as he stepped towards the tavern door. “Take
care, Master Diluc. Enjoy your Weinlessefest.”

Diluc continued to study the board as the tavern door swung closed again, trying to figure out
how Kaeya had managed to disguise such a weak spot. Had he really been that distracted?
Maybe the chatter had been more than just an annoyance. The black king was positioned
perfectly for the white knight to take its place.
 Chapter 1

Funerals in Mondstadt were a ritual affair, formal unlike many of the city’s other events and
festivities. It seemed that the one time the citizens of the City of Wind and Time stayed their
chaotic and spontaneous activities was during times of mourning. Taverns would be as busy
as ever, and death never stopped the endless flow of work and trouble for the Knights of
Favonius, but the bartender of Angel’s Share could always detect a sense of reverence and an
unusually respectful demeanor among his patrons during the week following a particularly
memorable passing.

The seven days of mourning were deeply ingrained into Mondstadt history–as far as Diluc
could remember from their history lessons as a child, at least. It was customary to allow
seven days of grieving for the loved ones of a deceased person, during which time the body
would be kept in stasis via the most easily accessible cryo elemental energy. It was believed
that the spirit remained tethered to the body for the seven days after death. They would be
kept company at all times by family or the sisters of the Church of Favonius, both as a
comfort to the deceased spirit and as a precaution against any weary souls becoming trapped
and remaining in Mondstadt.

Traditionally this meant that the family would keep the deceased for five days. They could
hold private viewings and care for their loved one themselves. During the final two days the
family would be expected to dress the corpse in burial clothes and transport it to the Church
where it would stay until burial, but ultimately this was at the discretion of the family.
Burying someone before the mourning period was over, however, could result in a spirit
becoming trapped underground, unable to be carried away by the wind, and abandonment of
the body during the mourning period might put the spirit in distress. In the event that a body
was found unidentified, the Church of Favonius would care for it for at least seven days.
Diluc remembered several instances during his time as a Captain of Favonius in which the
Church cared for such people. Even the most despicable criminals were treated with these
courtesies, and premature burial was considered a crime in the city.

Diluc was almost too young to have remembered his mother’s funeral. He harbored the faint
memory of an uncle’s passing, and another of a fellow knight who had fallen during an
expedition. When Crepus Ragnvindr died, Diluc had ‘presided’ over the funeral as his eldest
son, but it had been such a whirlwind of emotions that parts of the memories were blurry and
unclear. He was barely 18—Elzer had really done most of the organization.

But Diluc never considered any of these traditions in the context of Kaeya Alberich. In fact,
Diluc had been certain his younger brother would outlive him. His own self-preservation
instincts were flawed at best while Kaeya’s always seemed unnaturally keen.

Yet here he was.

Diluc stared down at his body with a glazed expression. He sat in a chair watching him from
the bedside, and though he wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting there, he knew it was
long enough that he ought to stand and walk around. He remained seated anyway.
Three days before, when two familiar Knights of Favonius knocked on the doors to Dawn
Winery, Diluc thought there might be some trouble with a nearby hillichurl camp. At worst
the cryo slimes by the lake were acting up again, and this would be a courtesy call to let them
know the Knights were in the area. Their guarded and solemn expressions told him
otherwise.

When Kaeya’s name was spoken Diluc’s chest tightened. Maybe Kaeya had been found out.
Maybe the Knights were informing him that Kaeya was a traitor, and that he was being
expelled from their ranks. He couldn’t imagine anything more serious than that.

The truth—that Kaeya had been killed during an expedition that afternoon while protecting
his fellow Knights—fell much harder on him.

Diluc hadn’t taken it well. If he felt any better now, he might have felt embarrassed, but he
didn’t. He wasn’t sure he would for a while to come. It didn’t feel real yet. He was half
convinced Kaeya would rise from the bed any moment, only to laugh at him and poke fun at
how depressed his expression was.

Three days. It had already been three days.

Before his body was transported to the winery for him to see personally, Diluc still didn’t
believe it. He insisted there must be some mistake or confusion—Kaeya couldn’t be dead. He
would have been there. Diluc would have been there.

Adelinde entered the room with a tray of tea, breaking the long silence, but Diluc didn’t raise
his head, still staring at Kaeya’s face deep in thought.

Seeing the darkened cryo vision was what had really made things click. He hadn’t let it leave
his person since. Holding it now, he couldn’t help but wonder about his own vision being left
in Kaeya’s hands. How had he felt, knowing it was there when Diluc wasn’t? Diluc wasn’t so
misguided as to think his brother hated him, as much as he believed he should, so it must
have affected him somehow.

“Diluc.”

Kaeya never spoke of it, but Diluc had seen visions flicker in times of peril, when their
wielders were in bad health or in danger. Diluc had been in more than a few grave situations
during his time away from Mondstadt—had Kaeya known? Did he see?
The pointed ends of the cryo vision’s clipped wings dug into his palm.

“Master Diluc.”

He finally raised his head.

Adelinde stared down at him with a gentle but sobering expression, her hands neatly clasped
in front of her. The tea had already been set on the night table. “Acting Grand Master Jean is
here again,” she said slowly, knowing now that her words were reaching him.

Diluc took a moment to process that and then glanced at the doorway.
Jean stood at the entrance to the bedroom in her uniform. She always appeared formal, but
something about her stature now made her seem like a statue rather than a friend. She nodded
to him when they met eyes.

“Adelinde…” he started hoarsely, looking back at the head maid.

“I’ll leave you two to speak,” she said, bowing her head slightly. She calmly left the room,
leaving the tray of tea steaming on the night table.

Jean stayed in the doorway for longer than she needed to. Kaeya’s bedroom was clean to the
point of being sterile despite the fact that he had not slept there for years. It wasn’t a recent
development either. It looked like a snapshot from before any of their lives had diverged—
linens clean, shelves dusted and filled with mementos and books, windows clear and floors
swept…she must have recognized that too, and he didn’t blame her for being hesitant to step
back into it.

Finally Jean entered and closed the door gently. She waited a beat before speaking. “How are
you?”

Diluc just stared at her.

Silence followed and Jean swallowed and averted her eyes to the bed. Staring at Kaeya’s
lifeless body didn’t seem to make her feel any better and she finally turned her head and
pulled a chair up next to him. Before sitting she wavered once more. “Would…you like any
tea?”

He glanced at the tea tray on the night table and then shook his head, unconsciously leaning
away from her to make room. Jean nodded and sat next to him, awkwardly folding her hands
in her lap. Her eyes nervously wandered to the bed again.

The two sat in silence again. There had been an awful lot of that the past three days.

Diluc couldn’t help but think about how this might have been the longest the three childhood
friends had been alone in the same room in years.

Maybe that was his fault.

“Are you alright to speak for a minute?” Jean said carefully, breaking the silence once more.

“Mm.”

“I’ve…got the keys to Sir…to Kaeya’s place.”

Diluc glanced at her warily but didn’t respond.

Jean shifted and brushed the hair from her forehead. “As his next of kin, you’ll likely inherit
his things. I’m still…looking for a will…”

He averted his eyes back to the bed as her voice became more brittle.
Jean paused for a moment to compose herself. She cleared her throat and spoke more clearly.
“I’m looking through his office for the will, but I think you should be there to look through
his things. I can’t imagine he wouldn’t have left it to you at least in part.”

Diluc certainly could imagine, but he didn’t argue. He didn’t take his eyes off the bedspread.

“So…this afternoon, I thought maybe we could…I mean, I’ll go with you. I'll be there. If…
you’d like.”

“You can go ahead and look through everything,” he said after a while, voice still dry.

“Diluc…”

“He would have preferred that. You’re his friend.”

“You were his brother.”

Diluc didn’t respond to that.

“It’ll just be for a few hours, we-“

“He can’t just be left alone here, Jean.”

Jean put her face in both hands, pausing for a moment before exhaling deeply and dragging
them down. “You’ve been in here for two days. Adelinde can sit at his side for a while—you
know better than I that she might as well be family. His spirit won't be lonely.”

Diluc didn’t turn back to look at her. Logically he knew she was right. There was no need
beyond tradition and sentimentality—something he previously stated wasn’t a feeling he gave
credence to—to stay here with Kaeya, but he still found himself hesitant.

She watched him think, a frustrated but desperate expression lingering on her face. He stayed
silent.

“Don’t you think there are better ways to remember your brother than staring at his corpse?”
she finally said. The words remained soft somehow, unable to hold the edge she intended
them to.

But they still carried weight. He knew she meant that viewing Kaeya’s home and sorting
through some of his belongings might be more beneficial emotionally than staring at his dead
body in a room all day, and logic told him he should agree. But logic wasn’t what was
keeping him from standing up. Diluc finally turned back to her.

“Come look through some of his things with me. Please.”

One glance at her expression revealed she wasn’t asking entirely for his benefit. “Jean…”

“Just for a couple hours. For me. Please.”

The room fell silent again and they could hear the faint hushed chatter of the maids down the
hall.

When Jean spoke again her throat was tight and he could see tears in her eyes, but she didn’t
turn away this time. “I don’t want to go alone.”

“Then…why don’t you ask–”

“Because I want you to be there, Diluc. There’s no one else…” she exhaled again sharply.
“No one else knew him as well as you did. To this day I know there are things he wouldn’t
speak to me about that you must have known. I was his closest friend, but you were his
brother.”

He wanted to negate that, but he kept his mouth shut this time. Jean wasn’t really asking him
to come as Kaeya’s brother—she was asking Diluc to come as her friend. He wouldn’t say no
to that.

____________

Diluc hadn’t stepped foot in Kaeya Alberich’s home in a very long time. He knew where it
was–there had been multiple occasions in which he had walked his younger brother home,
and even considered paying a visit unannounced once or twice, though always in a dire
situation–but he had rarely found himself invited inside. Or, more accurately, he had almost
never taken Kaeya up on the offer.

He could feel his chest tighten as the two stepped inside, but he stayed composed.

It smelled like sweet flowers and rotten fruit.

To those who weren’t close to Kaeya, the place might have felt cold and unhomely.
Everything was neat and tidy to a fault. The furniture was minimal; a small couch and chair
were squarely positioned around a coffee table, and a bookshelf lined one wall. Peering into
the kitchen one could see that the counters were mostly empty as well. The only sign of
negligence was a thin film of dust that had collected over the past few days. It felt almost
sterile—not a place that was regularly lived in. Not the home of the prominent and
charismatic Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius.

For those who knew where to look, however, there was an abundance of small sparks of life.
On the bookshelf a small child’s drawing was framed. Several of the titles on the shelf were
certainly not intended for adult readers. Small houseplants were placed purposefully around
the room and habit had worn away the finish on one of the couch cushions.

Still, Diluc couldn’t help but wonder how Kaeya called this place a home. He didn’t want to
consider the alternative.
“I hadn’t thought about the garbage…” Jean mused aloud, staring down at a small clump of
rotting sunsettias on the counter.

It didn’t need to be mentioned that Kaeya didn’t like sunsettias—they both knew it. He
wondered if they had been for someone else. “Mm.”

Diluc lifted the child’s drawing from the shelf and looked down at it. It depicted what he
guessed was Kaeya, several other knights, and a small elf. “KLEE” was written in thick red
crayon at the bottom left, partially obscured by the frame. Kaeya was raising his sword and
tiny lines of blue were shooting towards a…well, some sort of enemy. Maybe a hillichurl.

After a moment of debate he flipped it over and began undoing the metal prongs that held the
page in place.

“I forgot about his affinity for plants. I should have come sooner.” There was a thump as Jean
dropped the sour fruit into the trash.

Diluc turned back from the bookshelf as he slid the drawing into his coat pocket carefully.
“They’ll be fine. It’s only been three days.”

“The longest three days I’ve ever known,” she sighed. “Look, they’re all wilted.”

He watched as she gingerly lifted the leaf of a yellowed pothos on the kitchen counter. He
could at least agree with that—the only days that came close were the ones following his
father’s death, but something about the situation now was different. The events surrounding
the death of Crepus Ragnvindr had seemed overwhelming, one thing after another, but now…
time was still.

“I can take some of the plants.”

Jean eyed him. “I can put them in my office.”

“I don’t mind. Adelinde will be happy to have something of his to tend to.”

Jean slowly nodded, and it seemed as if the two were reliving the same memories. Adelinde’s
hobbies, specifically flower preserving, had often been shared with Kaeya as a child. Diluc
never understood it.

Upon closer inspection the home showed more signs of use. Aside from the spoiled fruit,
there were several other food items that had gone bad, including a half eaten loaf of bread
and an uncorked bottle of wine that was now far too sour to drink. There was a small bin of
laundry yet to be washed. In one cabinet there was a variety of half used medicinal salves,
tinctures and syrups.

Diluc watched again as Jean sighed, holding one of the small tins in her hand. “Kaeya…this
was supposed to have run out weeks ago.”

“Had he been ill?”

Jean eyed him again. “When was he ever not ill?”

Right. Diluc turned away to look into the bedroom, not needing another reminder of how
little he had paid attention to his younger brother in the past few years.

He found it to be in a similar state to the rest of the house. The bed was half made, and there
was an empty glass on the nightstand, but otherwise it was plain and unremarkable. A plain
cuihua desk was pushed against the wall underneath the window and the sheer white curtains
were drawn.

Diluc pulled them open and glanced over the desk. He could hear Jean rustling around in the
next room as he debated whether it would be alright to look through it. While his brother
might be gone, it didn’t ease the guilt of invading his privacy. Kaeya was the most private
person Diluc had ever known, even going insofar as to hide his thoughts from him, his closest
confidant, so he would certainly feel strange about him going through his personal
belongings.

He pulled a desk drawer open, feeling a surge of frustration bubble up from somewhere deep
in his chest. It didn’t feel fair.

The feeling quickly fizzled away as he looked down at a stack of more children’s doodles. A
few broken crayons were scattered in the drawer, crumbs of blue and red wax gathered in the
corners.

Diluc closed his eyes and exhaled before closing the drawer and opening another. This one
contained jumbled sheets of paper and a few pens. Some pages contained writing and others
were blank or crumpled. He quickly flipped through them and removed the ones with
content. He nudged aside a shriveled succulent and laid out a few of the papers on the desk.

The first was a letter to Mona. Diluc wasn’t really sure what it was about, as it only contained
two lines, and the writing was so poor that it was barely legible. It was odd, given that Kaeya
generally had quite beautiful handwriting, but something had driven him to scribble the page
out in frustration not long after starting.

A dozen or so other letters were similar. Sometimes the handwriting was much better, but few
were complete. A couple were addressed to Diluc, but the topics were almost indiscernible
and didn’t correlate to any letters he remembered actually receiving.

“Have you found a will?”

Diluc glanced over his shoulder to Jean. She stood in the doorway timidly watching him at
the desk. It was odd to see her like this, but he supposed it was odd to see himself the way he
was acting. “No.”

“I was hoping the will would be here,” Jean murmured, though she clearly intended for Diluc
to hear.

“It’s not in his office?” Diluc asked quietly, still scanning the pages.

“I’m still going through it. His papers are all jumbled. I can only find the old will.”
Diluc looked up again questioningly.

Jean glanced at him and then shook her head, stepping over and taking a seat on the edge of
the bed. “He updated it so frequently…I can’t find the one from this year.”

He stared at her. All knights upon acceptance into the Knights of Favonius were encouraged
to draw up a last will and testament. Though it wasn’t a requirement it would still be
considered odd and even negligent to forgo the process–knighthood came with a whole host
of risks, even for the lower ranks. But Diluc hadn’t thought of his own in years. It was
probably crumpled at the bottom of a desk drawer somewhere at the winery, assuming he still
even had his own copy.

Eventually he looked back at the discarded letter in his hands and simply nodded.

A tense silence followed. Both had experienced their fair share of grief, but Diluc was willing
to bet that Jean would agree this situation weighed on the both of them in a way nothing else
really had.

“Would you like me to leave you here alone for a while?” she asked softly.

“No, I’m fine.”

Poor choice of words. The page crinkled between his fingers.

“Would…you like to talk for a while? Now that we’re here?”

Diluc wasn’t sure how to answer. He set the letter on the desk and looked at her.

Jean nodded slowly and folded her hands, awkwardly picking at her thumb.

______________

“Are you headed home?”

Diluc stared at her in the doorway of Kaeya’s residence as if that answer should have been
obvious. They had spent the better part of the evening looking through Kaeya’s home, talking
in brief spurts about memories or commenting about Kaeya’s habits. “Addie will worry.”

“I didn’t know if maybe…” She shook her head, pushing the thought aside. “Would you like
an escort? It’s late”

He smiled. “I’ll manage.”

“Alright.” Jean shifted and then sighed. “When Lisa and I manage to find the will, I’ll let you
know. If we can’t find it before the fifth day…well, I suppose we can use an old one.”
He nodded, though he knew she wouldn’t stop looking until she found it. That’s just the way
Jean was. “Thank you.”

“Be safe, Diluc.”

“I will be. Good night, Jean.”

“Good night. And…thank you.”

Diluc wavered and then nodded. The return thanks didn’t quite make it out of his throat.

The walk home to Dawn Winery was cool. Diluc was thankful for the breeze as he crossed
the Windwail Highland. Sitting in a dead loved one’s once lived-in home had been
suffocating.

The experience made him feel sick. Without anyone there to stop him, curiosity drove him to
want to investigate everything about his brother-–that he could glean from his home, anyway.
Not a single detail served to make him feel better, or to build towards any sense of closure. If
anything it had simply made everything feel less real. A dream.

Diluc paused as the Statue of the Seven glinted in his peripheral vision. In the moonlight the
image of the anemo god almost glowed, gazing down the highland to the winery with wings
outstretched as if to shield and protect. Heavenly—regal, even. A savior.

But Diluc didn’t want gods right now.

 Chapter 2
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Getting roped into his brother’s antics was nothing new to Diluc, but the Traveler had been
dragged in this time, and as much as he’d like to avoid any ‘mission’ that came from Kaeya
Alberich he couldn’t say no to a friend that had asked for his assistance. At the very least he
would be there should something go awry.

Well, things had certainly gone awry, but not in the ways he expected. It seemed as if every
hiccup, accident or ounce of bad luck that befell the group was centered around one person.

Diluc had of course heard about the young boy in the Adventurer’s Guild with exceedingly
bad luck, but it was another thing entirely to see it firsthand. Tripping on a pebble would alert
an entire camp of hilichurls a hundred meters away, stooping down to refill a canteen with
water from a stream would upset a family of cryo slimes previously undetected, and a simple
attempt at building a campfire would result in setting the grass valley of Windrise aflame.
The Traveler quickly swirled water from the creek to dispel the flames and Diluc set to
creating a fire himself—far from the trunk of the great oak, lest the bad luck somehow
persist.

Bennet sucked in air through his teeth as the traveler dabbed at the gash on his shoulder. The
three sat around the small campfire, Diluc tending to the flames as the Traveler tended to the
veritable fusebox accompanying them. Paimon flitted back and forth nervously.

“Sorry,” the Traveler mumbled, “hold still.”

Bennet nodded, teeth still gritted, and did his best to contain himself. It was a nasty cut, and
the fair amount of dirt and sand ground into his skin was difficult to clean out gently. Who
knew slipping on a patch of mud would result in hitting a small stone in just the wrong way?
Diluc eyed them from time to time without chiming in.

“Sorry this has been such a disaster…” the boy said after a while, as if sensing their thoughts.
“We haven’t caught a single Abyss mage because of my luck.”

The Traveler waved his hand dismissively without looking up at him and began wrapping his
shoulder with a thin strip of gauzy linen bandage. “I knew what we were getting into when I
asked you to come. If I cared I wouldn’t have asked.”

This surprised him, though it didn’t seem to ease his discomfort at all. He remained still as he
was neatly bandaged.

Diluc continued watching and finally sat back a bit. “I think you have extraordinary luck.”

Bennet blinked and looked up at him in stunned confusion. This comment surprised the
Traveler as well, and he looked back over his shoulder at the young master with an
expression akin to suspicion. Diluc suddenly felt silly, but he forced himself to maintain a
cool appearance as he poked the fire again. Was it so unusual for him to say something like
that? He didn’t think he was that aloof.

He cleared his throat. “To experience so many misfortunes, yet somehow always survive with
only moderate to mild injuries…one has to be pretty lucky, hm?”

The camp went quiet as the other three thought about this. Paimon had finally stopped
hovering about and raised a hand to her chin, thinking hard. “With all the bad luck…and
having good luck to survive the bad luck…do the two just cancel out?”

Bennet started laughing.

Diluc couldn't help but crack a smile too as the Traveler shook his head and began chiding
the boy to sit still again. The mood remained lighter and the chat continued.

“Fischl said that once,” Bennet said cheerily. “It took me a while to understand what she was
saying but I got the gist of it.”

“Are you sure she wasn’t just trying to rope you into her performances?” Paimon replied
suspiciously.

Bennet shrugged as the Traveler finally finished and sat back from him. “I dunno. Probably.
But I think she meant it too.”

The Traveler began digging around in his bag for the meals they had packed earlier that
morning. “Fischl might be dramatic, but she’s not insincere.”

Bennet nodded. “Mhm. And anyway, we—Razor, Fischl and I—agreed that if I ever did die
from my luck, they would just bring me back.”

He said it so matter-of-factly that for a beat none of them actually questioned it.

“Huh?” Paimon said. “Bring you back? Like, raise you from the dead? How would they
manage that??”

The teen’s eyes seemed to light up, reflecting the firelight more brightly than before. “Have
you ever heard about the legend of the Statues of the Seven?”

“Which one? There are a lot,” the Traveler said tiredly. He passed Bennet a sandwich as he
spoke, and Paimon hovered above waiting for her turn, almost forgetting the conversation at
the prospect of a good meal.

“The one about the seven days of mourning.”

The Traveler paused and Diluc glanced up from the food he was taking. Paimon took a short
break from chewing her sandwich to ask, “Sheven daysh of huh?”

“I guess you guys haven’t been around for anyone’s passing yet in Mondstadt, huh?” Bennett
wondered aloud
“Thankfully,” the Traveler conceded, setting out his own food. “The seven days of mourning
are…funerals?”

Bennett hummed. “You could put it that way. In Mondstadt, when someone dies, we wait for
seven days to bury them. There’s lots of little traditions for each day but usually it’s up to the
family. If we bury someone too soon, their soul might get trapped and Barbatos might not be
able to reach them.”

There was a knowing look in the Traveler’s eye, but Diluc didn’t feel it was the time to pry.
Paimon however, had no such reservations. “Because…underground, they don’t have contact
with the wind, right?

“I guess. I don’t know how true it is, but it’s tradition so everyone follows it. Besides, it can’t
hurt right?”

Paimon took a somewhat indignant bite of her sandwich. “Why does it seem like Barbatos
has so much to do with dead people?”

Diluc had never thought of it that way. It did seem a little odd to him—what did the god of
wind and song have to do with funerals and death? He’d never heard of other archons
overseeing the passage of their deceased peoples into the afterlife.

The Traveler put the conversation back on track. “And this legend, it has to do with the
funeral traditions here?”

“Mhm,” Bennett nodded. “On the seventh day, after the sun sets, only then can you bury
someone. But when I was little, I heard some of my dads telling a story.” He leaned in closer
to the fire, playing up the suspense as best he could. The firelight glimmered brightly in his
eyes. “There are some people that say if you bring the body of a loved one to the Statue of the
Seven—of Barbatos at Windrise—before the sun sets on the seventh day, the gods might take
pity on you and revive them.”

“Can he really do that??” Paimon exclaimed. She no doubt had the inconspicuous image of a
certain bard in mind, and Diluc had to admit that imagining Venti raise the dead wasn’t very
convincing to him either. But he didn’t want to spoil the kid’s fun. Legends were
entertainment, and the youth of the Adventurer’s Guild consumed it to no end.

Bennett shrugged. “I dunno. But with my luck being so bad, who knows what’ll happen. My
friends and I agreed that if anything ever happens to one of us, we’ll give it a try.”

The four sat in silence for a while, thoughtfully chewing their dinner as the last rays of the
sun cast deep shadows from the great oak not fifty yards from their campsite. None of them
could resist a wary glance at the statue expressionlessly guarding the valley, its long shadow
steadily creeping across the field in their direction.

—
Diluc stared at the canopy above his bed for a long while, his gaze blurry and unfocused. The
dream swam in and out of his thoughts. How accurate was the memory?

Ultimately he pushed it aside. Today wasn’t the time to dwell on memories like that. It was
the fifth day.

Transporting Kaeya’s body to the cathedral was no small matter, if only because of the
throngs of citizens that wanted to see the young Cavalry Captain off one final time. The
Knights of Favonius, headed once again by Jean herself, directed the street traffic to make the
trip run more smoothly.

Seeing his brother laid in a casket before the Church of Favonius altar was surreal. After a
long while of staring at it with a glazed expression Diluc trained his eyes on one of the
stained glass windows instead.

Though it was not time for burial it was traditional to read the will and testament when the
deceased first arrived at the cathedral. It felt similar to any funeral one might see in other
regions of Teyvat—it was essentially a public service in memory of the one who had passed,
only the body wouldn’t be buried afterwards but two days later. It gave the community time
to visit and say their farewells.

Diluc declined to speak. Jean spoke for him.

Occasionally his eyes stung but he didn’t cry. In fact, he took in very little from the whole
thing. Jean’s speech was lovely and eloquent, but most of her words sounded as if they came
from outside a fish tank in which he had been trapped for the past several days. He could
only nod when she concluded, lost in his own thoughts as she stepped down from the podium
to allow several others to share their thoughts, then returned and moved on to the will.

He was thinking about how Kaeya had a will in the first place. What man in his early
twenties had a will, much less a frequently updated one? Diluc knew the answer, but it still
nagged at him. He had his own, but when had he last updated it? He didn’t even know where
it was.
He would probably leave most sentimental things to Adelinde or Elzer. Elzer could run the
winery better than anyone, and Adelinde had been with him since the beginning.

“Diluc.”

He glanced up from his seat in the front pew. Jean was standing over him with a sympathetic
expression, her eyes rimmed red from a bout of tears she had suffered during her speech.
Diluc paused and glanced around to find a large chunk of the visitors had already filed out,
leaving only friends who chatted in hushed whispers and others who had yet to file past the
casket to say their farewells.
Jean sat next to him on the pew and reached into the breastplate of her armor. She, like every
other knight that had been in attendance, was decked out in the full Knights of Favonius
uniform, shining from head to toe. “I sent the will ahead with Adelinde. I figured you’d want
to stay a while before dinner.”

Right. Dinner. Families and friends often held some kind of banquet on the fifth evening, and
he had previously agreed to hold one at Angel’s Share. “Thank you.”

Jean produced a wrinkled envelope from her breastplate, a sheepish expression on her face. “I
don’t know if you want this now. But…I figured I’d give it to you, now that he’s here. I
found these in his office when I was looking for the will.”

Diluc slowly took the envelope and it crinkled under his fingers. He could feel at least a few
sheets of paper inside and glanced at her hesitantly. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. They were addressed to you, I only skimmed them. I…don’t really think he
intended to send anything, but whether you read them or not is up to you.”

He nodded lightly and looked at the yellowed envelope again. He remembered the contents of
Kaeya’s desk at his house and felt that he had an inkling of what might be inside. “Are you
leaving?’

Jean sighed and pushed herself up from the pew. “Unfortunately. I’ll be back-–I’ll be at the
farewell dinner. Adelinde told me you wanted to work the bar.”

“Mm.”

“You don’t have to, you know.”

“I know.”

“Alright.” Jean straightened and then bowed curtly, one hand crossed behind her back and
one in front as if she were addressing a superior officer. “I’ll see you this evening then.”

Diluc nodded and watched as she turned briefly to the casket, hesitated, and then gave the
same bow. Even he could detect the pause she took halfway down, but when she finally
raised her head again her face was turned the other way, and he could only watch her back as
she exited the cathedral with two other young knights in tow.

Overcast morning light illuminated the cathedral well enough, but it still felt gloomy now
that the lively visitors were mostly gone to let the family have a few hours of peace. Diluc
was acutely aware that, now that Adelinde had left, he was alone on that family pew.

He sighed and flipped the envelope over, tearing it open and slipping his fingers inside to pull
out three or four sheets of paper. Sure enough, they were all covered in that same beautifully
elegant handwriting, marred with ink blots and entire paragraphs that had been scribbled out
in a frustrated haze. It looked much the same as the unfinished and unsent letters they rifled
through in Kaeya’s home the other day.
These, however, were all addressed to him, and the content was legible. As Diluc scanned the
pages he felt the cathedral fade away again, his mind only concerned with the words in front
of him. One started with formal greeting and discussion—a letter Diluc remembered
receiving about Favonius investigations into the Darknight Hero—but quickly devolved into
rambling that hadn’t existed in the copy he had filed away in Dawn Winery’s library. The
next letter was another drunken ramble, though clearly it had begun as such this time. Each
page felt strange, and he could tell Kaeya must not have been in his right mind when writing
any of them. It felt more like stream of consciousness than coherent letter-writing.

Jean keeps getting onto me for leaving dishes in the office.

Did you know that hillichurls sing? I came across one on its own today, babbling about
something I couldn’t understand very well. I’ll have to talk to Ella.

Klee keeps asking me to take her fishing. Seeing her use her vision so recklessly reminds me
of when you burned the shed down when you were 12.

I hate going on expeditions without the horses. Walking to the coast is only nice the first few
times.

Once he reached the final page, he found it much neater and more in line with what he would
expect the captain to produce, but the content of the letter left Diluc feeling even stranger. It
was coherent—enough that he knew Kaeya had been sober and clear-headed when he wrote
it, but he knew deep down that he had never intended to send Diluc the letter. As with the
previous letters, it seemed that Kaeya had simply been writing to talk to someone. That
someone hadn’t been available.

Do you remember how we used to climb up onto the roof of headquarters at night when we
didn’t think anyone would catch us? I still sit up here sometimes, It's still cold. Well, you
probably don’t think about that. I’m sure you were always quite warm.
I wonder sometimes if you made Addie toss anything I left behind away. I visited once, while
you were gone, and she had kept everything exactly as we left it as if we all might come home
one evening. She was a bit embarrassed about it I think, so I didn’t say anything. That woman
has too much love in her heart, she tried to make me stay. I felt awful making her cry.
That week felt strange. I was home for the first time in over a year, but I wasn’t. It wasn’t my
home anymore. You weren’t there, Father wasn’t there, I wasn’t really there. Strange. I
wonder if you felt the same way once you came back. Maybe that was why you sold so many
of Father’s things.

It took a long time for the cathedral to fade back into existence around Diluc. It was darker
now.

Kaeya had been right. About a lot of things.

—
Angel’s Share hadn’t been so busy in many years. Diluc had no memory of it ever being so
packed, and it was more a celebration than a mourning party. He and Charles worked
overtime to serve the patrons as music and laughter filled the tavern. The bards all played
together, a few people danced, and occasionally someone who’d had a little too much to
drink raised their glass and shouted out toasts to the deceased Kaeya Alberich, prompting a
chorus of fellow cheers to echo behind.

Jean had begun the dinner with a short but moving speech about remembrance and sharing
positive memories. She had even requested Diluc make her a Death After Noon, though he
knew she rarely drank alcohol. She was too professional for that. The sight of her flushed
cheeks made him smile somewhat as she chattered among the rest, never straying far from
the bar. He knew she was trying to keep him company.

Diluc’s thoughts continued to drift throughout the evening, landing sparingly on the
conversations of those around him. Each time he found his mind landing on that final letter.

He felt restless. Angry. Frustrated. The cocktail of emotions that had come with his brother’s
death had finally reached its breaking point, and Diluc was in no position to do anything
about it, nor did he know how.

What was he going to do? Vent his frustration? No one honestly deserved that, even if they
were a no-good abyss mage.

Get revenge? The whole thing had been an accident, and he’d more than learned his lesson
about vengeance during his last excursions following the passing of a family member.

Admit he felt guilty…?

Diluc set down the glass he had been cleaning a bit too forcefully, drawing the wary glances
of a few patrons still sober enough to be startled.

There was no use in that anymore.

Favonius Headquarters was as empty as expected, not that it would have been difficult for
Diluc to slip inside either way. If he’d really felt like it he could simply ask Jean to allow him
inside, but he didn’t want to talk to Jean right now. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. No one
that was alive.

Diluc thought about the cathedral once more as he scaled the steps to the roof. Leaving Kaeya
in the hands of the church felt like the first step to letting it all go, and it left a sickening
feeling in his stomach.

Kaeya’s body would be looked after by the Sisters of Favonius, so there was no need to
return to the cathedral that evening. That was the excuse he had given, however, for leaving
the wake so early. Jean hadn’t questioned it, or at least chose not to. He had shoved a bottle
of wine into his coat and walked alone across the city to the headquarters, thinking
periodically about an old bet Kaeya had made. Well, he'd been right. Again.
Diluc paused as he stepped out onto the roof, unexpectedly finding himself in company. The
Traveler stared back at him, equally surprised.

“Master Diluc…”

It took him a beat to find words. “I believed you were in Liyue. I didn’t expect you to pay a
visit.”

The Traveler wavered, standing conspicuously in front of the ledge he’d been looking over.
“I…came as quickly as I could. I’m sorry that I’m late.”

Diluc shook his head, dismissing the apology. “I’m sure that he would appreciate your
presence regardless.”

The two stood in awkward silence. Diluc didn’t want a chat, and it didn’t seem that the
Traveler did either. Neither asked the other what they were doing on the roof of the building.

Just as Diluc began to turn to leave and say his goodbyes, the Traveler wavered. “Wait,” he
shifted, glancing behind himself. “I don’t…I think you should have something.”

Diluc paused and waited, watching as the Traveler turned around and shuffled through
something. He turned around a moment later, stepping towards the man with
“What is this?” he asked, hesitant.

“It’s Kaeya’s. I don’t think that anyone but me knows that this was up here now, so…” he
cleared his throat, not meeting his eyes. “I think that you should at least have it.”

Diluc slowly nodded, taking the box from his hands and looking it over. It was a bit banged
up. It couldn’t be a jewelry box, could it?

“I’ll…go and join the rest,” the Traveler said slowly. “I hope you have a good evening.”

Diluc watched as the Traveler awkwardly left, leaving him alone on the roof.

He sighed to himself, looking up at the sky as he stepped towards the ledge to set the box
down. The city lights seemed cozy from such a height, and the breeze pulled lightly at the
hair hanging next to his face.

Opening the box brought Diluc only more confusion. It seemed like nothing but a bunch of
random items. Something one might find in a junk drawer.

An old eyepatch. Scraps of paper. A bag with a hole worn in it.

Diluc dug further, lifting the bag by the string and tugging it open with two fingers.

A bag of seashells.

Memories of conversations on the beach, of sea-bird hunting and shell collecting.

 Something tightened in Diluc’s chest as the breeze brushed past him again. Suddenly he
didn’t want to continue on. He could look at it another day.

But he continued anyway. Several of the papers contained his own handwriting this time—
not Kaeya’s. Curt responses to inquiries and not-so-well-hidden attempts to make Kaeya
leave him alone and focus on his own health.

Other papers contained information that made the sick feeling in his stomach begin to turn
again. Topics he wished he’d never learned of all those years ago. Kaeya speaking so
honestly made his skin prickle with goosebumps.

I have never blamed Diluc for that. I suppose I must have been asking for it.

He finally felt the cold that Kaeya referred to in his letter.

It stayed with him all through the night, all through town and all the way down the road
towards the highland. Even the lights of Dawn Winery in the distance seemed cooler than
normal.

Once more the Statue of the Seven caught Diluc’s eye, momentarily pulling him from his fog.
His thoughts shifted towards his dream that morning. His memory was still fuzzy, and he
couldn’t quite remember how much of it had really happened and how much was the product
of grief invading his sleeping hours.

Diluc finally let the tears fall as anger gave way to exhaustion. Moonlight glinted off of the
statue’s gilding and he developed the inexplicable feeling that the god was staring down at
him from the hill. He clutched the worn box closely to his chest.

Ultimately he turned and continued the path back to Dawn Winery alone.

Chapter End Notes

IM BACK! I have completed my thesis and finally have some time for fun writing again
:) I know several people were asking for an update on this, so I'm sorry that it took me
so long. Hopefully it wont be so long before the next chapter this time <3 As always,
thank you for reading and sticking around for me
 Chapter 2
Chapter Notes
See the end of the chapter for notes

Getting roped into his brother’s antics was nothing new to Diluc, but the Traveler had been
dragged in this time, and as much as he’d like to avoid any ‘mission’ that came from Kaeya
Alberich he couldn’t say no to a friend that had asked for his assistance. At the very least he
would be there should something go awry.

Well, things had certainly gone awry, but not in the ways he expected. It seemed as if every
hiccup, accident or ounce of bad luck that befell the group was centered around one person.

Diluc had of course heard about the young boy in the Adventurer’s Guild with exceedingly
bad luck, but it was another thing entirely to see it firsthand. Tripping on a pebble would alert
an entire camp of hilichurls a hundred meters away, stooping down to refill a canteen with
water from a stream would upset a family of cryo slimes previously undetected, and a simple
attempt at building a campfire would result in setting the grass valley of Windrise aflame.
The Traveler quickly swirled water from the creek to dispel the flames and Diluc set to
creating a fire himself—far from the trunk of the great oak, lest the bad luck somehow
persist.

Bennet sucked in air through his teeth as the traveler dabbed at the gash on his shoulder. The
three sat around the small campfire, Diluc tending to the flames as the Traveler tended to the
veritable fusebox accompanying them. Paimon flitted back and forth nervously.

“Sorry,” the Traveler mumbled, “hold still.”

Bennet nodded, teeth still gritted, and did his best to contain himself. It was a nasty cut, and
the fair amount of dirt and sand ground into his skin was difficult to clean out gently. Who
knew slipping on a patch of mud would result in hitting a small stone in just the wrong way?
Diluc eyed them from time to time without chiming in.

“Sorry this has been such a disaster…” the boy said after a while, as if sensing their thoughts.
“We haven’t caught a single Abyss mage because of my luck.”

The Traveler waved his hand dismissively without looking up at him and began wrapping his
shoulder with a thin strip of gauzy linen bandage. “I knew what we were getting into when I
asked you to come. If I cared I wouldn’t have asked.”

This surprised him, though it didn’t seem to ease his discomfort at all. He remained still as he
was neatly bandaged.

Diluc continued watching and finally sat back a bit. “I think you have extraordinary luck.”

Bennet blinked and looked up at him in stunned confusion. This comment surprised the
Traveler as well, and he looked back over his shoulder at the young master with an
expression akin to suspicion. Diluc suddenly felt silly, but he forced himself to maintain a
cool appearance as he poked the fire again. Was it so unusual for him to say something like
that? He didn’t think he was that aloof.

He cleared his throat. “To experience so many misfortunes, yet somehow always survive with
only moderate to mild injuries…one has to be pretty lucky, hm?”

The camp went quiet as the other three thought about this. Paimon had finally stopped
hovering about and raised a hand to her chin, thinking hard. “With all the bad luck…and
having good luck to survive the bad luck…do the two just cancel out?”

Bennet started laughing.

Diluc couldn't help but crack a smile too as the Traveler shook his head and began chiding
the boy to sit still again. The mood remained lighter and the chat continued.

“Fischl said that once,” Bennet said cheerily. “It took me a while to understand what she was
saying but I got the gist of it.”

“Are you sure she wasn’t just trying to rope you into her performances?” Paimon replied
suspiciously.

Bennet shrugged as the Traveler finally finished and sat back from him. “I dunno. Probably.
But I think she meant it too.”

The Traveler began digging around in his bag for the meals they had packed earlier that
morning. “Fischl might be dramatic, but she’s not insincere.”

Bennet nodded. “Mhm. And anyway, we—Razor, Fischl and I—agreed that if I ever did die
from my luck, they would just bring me back.”

He said it so matter-of-factly that for a beat none of them actually questioned it.

“Huh?” Paimon said. “Bring you back? Like, raise you from the dead? How would they
manage that??”

The teen’s eyes seemed to light up, reflecting the firelight more brightly than before. “Have
you ever heard about the legend of the Statues of the Seven?”

“Which one? There are a lot,” the Traveler said tiredly. He passed Bennet a sandwich as he
spoke, and Paimon hovered above waiting for her turn, almost forgetting the conversation at
the prospect of a good meal.

“The one about the seven days of mourning.”

The Traveler paused and Diluc glanced up from the food he was taking. Paimon took a short
break from chewing her sandwich to ask, “Sheven daysh of huh?”

“I guess you guys haven’t been around for anyone’s passing yet in Mondstadt, huh?” Bennett
wondered aloud
“Thankfully,” the Traveler conceded, setting out his own food. “The seven days of mourning
are…funerals?”

Bennett hummed. “You could put it that way. In Mondstadt, when someone dies, we wait for
seven days to bury them. There’s lots of little traditions for each day but usually it’s up to the
family. If we bury someone too soon, their soul might get trapped and Barbatos might not be
able to reach them.”

There was a knowing look in the Traveler’s eye, but Diluc didn’t feel it was the time to pry.
Paimon however, had no such reservations. “Because…underground, they don’t have contact
with the wind, right?

“I guess. I don’t know how true it is, but it’s tradition so everyone follows it. Besides, it can’t
hurt right?”

Paimon took a somewhat indignant bite of her sandwich. “Why does it seem like Barbatos
has so much to do with dead people?”

Diluc had never thought of it that way. It did seem a little odd to him—what did the god of
wind and song have to do with funerals and death? He’d never heard of other archons
overseeing the passage of their deceased peoples into the afterlife.

The Traveler put the conversation back on track. “And this legend, it has to do with the
funeral traditions here?”

“Mhm,” Bennett nodded. “On the seventh day, after the sun sets, only then can you bury
someone. But when I was little, I heard some of my dads telling a story.” He leaned in closer
to the fire, playing up the suspense as best he could. The firelight glimmered brightly in his
eyes. “There are some people that say if you bring the body of a loved one to the Statue of the
Seven—of Barbatos at Windrise—before the sun sets on the seventh day, the gods might take
pity on you and revive them.”

“Can he really do that??” Paimon exclaimed. She no doubt had the inconspicuous image of a
certain bard in mind, and Diluc had to admit that imagining Venti raise the dead wasn’t very
convincing to him either. But he didn’t want to spoil the kid’s fun. Legends were
entertainment, and the youth of the Adventurer’s Guild consumed it to no end.

Bennett shrugged. “I dunno. But with my luck being so bad, who knows what’ll happen. My
friends and I agreed that if anything ever happens to one of us, we’ll give it a try.”

The four sat in silence for a while, thoughtfully chewing their dinner as the last rays of the
sun cast deep shadows from the great oak not fifty yards from their campsite. None of them
could resist a wary glance at the statue expressionlessly guarding the valley, its long shadow
steadily creeping across the field in their direction.

—
Diluc stared at the canopy above his bed for a long while, his gaze blurry and unfocused. The
dream swam in and out of his thoughts. How accurate was the memory?

Ultimately he pushed it aside. Today wasn’t the time to dwell on memories like that. It was
the fifth day.

Transporting Kaeya’s body to the cathedral was no small matter, if only because of the
throngs of citizens that wanted to see the young Cavalry Captain off one final time. The
Knights of Favonius, headed once again by Jean herself, directed the street traffic to make the
trip run more smoothly.

Seeing his brother laid in a casket before the Church of Favonius altar was surreal. After a
long while of staring at it with a glazed expression Diluc trained his eyes on one of the
stained glass windows instead.

Though it was not time for burial it was traditional to read the will and testament when the
deceased first arrived at the cathedral. It felt similar to any funeral one might see in other
regions of Teyvat—it was essentially a public service in memory of the one who had passed,
only the body wouldn’t be buried afterwards but two days later. It gave the community time
to visit and say their farewells.

Diluc declined to speak. Jean spoke for him.

Occasionally his eyes stung but he didn’t cry. In fact, he took in very little from the whole
thing. Jean’s speech was lovely and eloquent, but most of her words sounded as if they came
from outside a fish tank in which he had been trapped for the past several days. He could
only nod when she concluded, lost in his own thoughts as she stepped down from the podium
to allow several others to share their thoughts, then returned and moved on to the will.

He was thinking about how Kaeya had a will in the first place. What man in his early
twenties had a will, much less a frequently updated one? Diluc knew the answer, but it still
nagged at him. He had his own, but when had he last updated it? He didn’t even know where
it was.
He would probably leave most sentimental things to Adelinde or Elzer. Elzer could run the
winery better than anyone, and Adelinde had been with him since the beginning.

“Diluc.”

He glanced up from his seat in the front pew. Jean was standing over him with a sympathetic
expression, her eyes rimmed red from a bout of tears she had suffered during her speech.
Diluc paused and glanced around to find a large chunk of the visitors had already filed out,
leaving only friends who chatted in hushed whispers and others who had yet to file past the
casket to say their farewells.
Jean sat next to him on the pew and reached into the breastplate of her armor. She, like every
other knight that had been in attendance, was decked out in the full Knights of Favonius
uniform, shining from head to toe. “I sent the will ahead with Adelinde. I figured you’d want
to stay a while before dinner.”

Right. Dinner. Families and friends often held some kind of banquet on the fifth evening, and
he had previously agreed to hold one at Angel’s Share. “Thank you.”

Jean produced a wrinkled envelope from her breastplate, a sheepish expression on her face. “I
don’t know if you want this now. But…I figured I’d give it to you, now that he’s here. I
found these in his office when I was looking for the will.”

Diluc slowly took the envelope and it crinkled under his fingers. He could feel at least a few
sheets of paper inside and glanced at her hesitantly. “What is it?”

“I don’t know. They were addressed to you, I only skimmed them. I…don’t really think he
intended to send anything, but whether you read them or not is up to you.”

He nodded lightly and looked at the yellowed envelope again. He remembered the contents of
Kaeya’s desk at his house and felt that he had an inkling of what might be inside. “Are you
leaving?’

Jean sighed and pushed herself up from the pew. “Unfortunately. I’ll be back-–I’ll be at the
farewell dinner. Adelinde told me you wanted to work the bar.”

“Mm.”

“You don’t have to, you know.”

“I know.”

“Alright.” Jean straightened and then bowed curtly, one hand crossed behind her back and
one in front as if she were addressing a superior officer. “I’ll see you this evening then.”

Diluc nodded and watched as she turned briefly to the casket, hesitated, and then gave the
same bow. Even he could detect the pause she took halfway down, but when she finally
raised her head again her face was turned the other way, and he could only watch her back as
she exited the cathedral with two other young knights in tow.

Overcast morning light illuminated the cathedral well enough, but it still felt gloomy now
that the lively visitors were mostly gone to let the family have a few hours of peace. Diluc
was acutely aware that, now that Adelinde had left, he was alone on that family pew.

He sighed and flipped the envelope over, tearing it open and slipping his fingers inside to pull
out three or four sheets of paper. Sure enough, they were all covered in that same beautifully
elegant handwriting, marred with ink blots and entire paragraphs that had been scribbled out
in a frustrated haze. It looked much the same as the unfinished and unsent letters they rifled
through in Kaeya’s home the other day.
These, however, were all addressed to him, and the content was legible. As Diluc scanned the
pages he felt the cathedral fade away again, his mind only concerned with the words in front
of him. One started with formal greeting and discussion—a letter Diluc remembered
receiving about Favonius investigations into the Darknight Hero—but quickly devolved into
rambling that hadn’t existed in the copy he had filed away in Dawn Winery’s library. The
next letter was another drunken ramble, though clearly it had begun as such this time. Each
page felt strange, and he could tell Kaeya must not have been in his right mind when writing
any of them. It felt more like stream of consciousness than coherent letter-writing.

Once he reached the final page, he found it much neater and more in line with what he would
expect the captain to produce, but the content of the letter left Diluc feeling even stranger. It
was coherent—enough that he knew Kaeya had been sober and clear-headed when he wrote
it, but he knew deep down that he had never intended to send Diluc the letter. As with the
previous letters, it seemed that Kaeya had simply been writing to talk to someone. That
someone hadn’t been available.

It took a long time for the cathedral to fade back into existence around Diluc. It was darker
now.

Kaeya had been right. About a lot of things.

Angel’s Share hadn’t been so busy in many years. Diluc had no memory of it ever being so
packed, and it was more a celebration than a mourning party. He and Charles worked
overtime to serve the patrons as music and laughter filled the tavern. The bards all played
together, a few people danced, and occasionally someone who’d had a little too much to
drink raised their glass and shouted out toasts to the deceased Kaeya Alberich, prompting a
chorus of fellow cheers to echo behind.

Jean had begun the dinner with a short but moving speech about remembrance and sharing
positive memories. She had even requested Diluc make her a Death After Noon, though he
knew she rarely drank alcohol. She was too professional for that. The sight of her flushed
cheeks made him smile somewhat as she chattered among the rest, never straying far from
the bar. He knew she was trying to keep him company.

Diluc’s thoughts continued to drift throughout the evening, landing sparingly on the
conversations of those around him. Each time he found his mind landing on that final letter.

He felt restless. Angry. Frustrated. The cocktail of emotions that had come with his brother’s
death had finally reached its breaking point, and Diluc was in no position to do anything
about it, nor did he know how.

What was he going to do? Vent his frustration? No one honestly deserved that, even if they
were a no-good abyss mage.

Get revenge? The whole thing had been an accident, and he’d more than learned his lesson
about vengeance during his last excursions following the passing of a family member.

Admit he felt guilty…?

Diluc set down the glass he had been cleaning a bit too forcefully, drawing the wary glances
of a few patrons still sober enough to be startled.

There was no use in that anymore.

Favonius Headquarters was as empty as expected, not that it would have been difficult for
Diluc to slip inside either way. If he’d really felt like it he could simply ask Jean to allow him
inside, but he didn’t want to talk to Jean right now. He didn’t want to talk to anyone. No one
that was alive.

Diluc thought about the cathedral once more as he scaled the steps to the roof. Leaving Kaeya
in the hands of the church felt like the first step to letting it all go, and it left a sickening
feeling in his stomach.

Kaeya’s body would be looked after by the Sisters of Favonius, so there was no need to
return to the cathedral that evening. That was the excuse he had given, however, for leaving
the wake so early. Jean hadn’t questioned it, or at least chose not to.

Diluc paused as he stepped out onto the roof, unexpectedly finding himself in company. The
Traveler stared back at him, equally surprised.

“Master Diluc…”

It took him a beat to find words. “I believed you were in Liyue. I didn’t expect you to pay a
visit.”

The Traveler wavered, standing conspicuously in front of the ledge he’d been looking over.
“I…came as quickly as I could. I’m sorry that I’m late.”

Diluc shook his head, dismissing the apology. “I’m sure that he would appreciate your
presence regardless.”

The two stood in awkward silence. Diluc didn’t want a chat, and it didn’t seem that the
Traveler did either. Neither asked the other what they were doing on the roof of the building.

Just as Diluc began to turn to leave and say his goodbyes, the Traveler wavered. “Wait,” he
shifted, glancing behind himself. “I don’t…I think you should have something.”
Diluc paused and waited, watching as the Traveler turned around and shuffled through
something. He turned around a moment later, stepping towards the man with
“What is this?” he asked, hesitant.

“It’s Kaeya’s. I don’t think that anyone but me knows that this was up here now, so…” he
cleared his throat, not meeting his eyes. “I think that you should at least have it.”

Diluc slowly nodded, taking the box from his hands and looking it over. It was a bit banged
up. It couldn’t be a jewelry box, could it?

“I’ll…go and join the rest,” the Traveler said slowly. “I hope you have a good evening.”

Diluc watched as the Traveler awkwardly left, leaving him alone on the roof.

He sighed to himself, looking up at the sky as he stepped towards the ledge to set the box
down. The city lights seemed cozy from such a height, and the breeze pulled lightly at the
hair hanging next to his face.

Opening the box brought Diluc only more confusion. It seemed like nothing but a bunch of
random items. Something one might find in a junk drawer.

An old eyepatch. Scraps of paper. A bag with a hole worn in it.

Diluc dug further, lifting the bag by the string and tugging it open with two fingers.

A bag of seashells.

Memories of conversations on the beach, of sea-bird hunting and shell collecting.

Something tightened in Diluc’s chest as the breeze brushed past him again. Suddenly he
didn’t want to continue on. He could look at it another day.

But he continued anyway. Several of the papers contained his own handwriting this time—
not Kaeya’s. Curt responses to inquiries and not-so-well-hidden attempts to make Kaeya
leave him alone and focus on his own health.

Other papers contained information that made the sick feeling in his stomach begin to turn
again. Topics he wished he’d never learned of all those years ago. Kaeya speaking so
honestly made his skin prickle with goosebumps.

He finally felt the cold that Kaeya referred to in his letter.

It stayed with him all through the night, all through town and all the way down the road
towards the highland. Even the lights of Dawn Winery in the distance seemed cooler than
normal.
 Once more the Statue of the Seven caught Diluc’s eye, momentarily pulling him from his fog.
His thoughts shifted towards his dream that morning. His memory was still fuzzy, and he
couldn’t quite remember how much of it had really happened and how much was the product
of grief invading his sleeping hours.

Diluc finally let the tears fall as anger gave way to exhaustion. Moonlight glinted off of the
statue’s gilding and he developed the inexplicable feeling that the god was staring down at
him from the hill. He clutched the worn box closely to his chest.

Ultimately he turned and continued the path back to Dawn Winery alone.

Chapter End Notes

IM BACK! I have completed my thesis and finally have some time for fun writing again
:) I know several people were asking for an update on this, so I'm sorry that it took me
so long. Hopefully it wont be so long before the next chapter this time <3 As always,
thank you for reading and sticking around for me
End Notes

Special thanks to my wonderful mutuals @Xozmyk and @Circusbird_art over on Instagram

for trusting me to write their idea and giving me all of their Mondstadt funeral rite head-
canons, and also to @KeRiZaReT for all of the help planning and editing this story. I also
want to thank my other mutuals @Ragbrosdump and @Peachiiscribs who beta read for me,
and @lvnesart for helping me with ideas for the prologue. You can find all of them on
Instagram and they all have wonderful content--and Keri is also here on AO3 with some
amazing ragbros fics you should definitely check out.

I don't have a posting schedule for this fic, given that I'm a university student working on a
thesis and my schedule is pretty random, but my outline is for 6 total chapters (including the
prologue) and I'll try my best to work consistently. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I
have writing it <3

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