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Diluc lay on his back in the cell, considering his options. He had no Vision; his weapon had been taken from him. When he had thought that he would be killed, that hadn’t been as much of a problem, but now…
Mondstadt couldn’t afford Diluc working against them, not without…
Without…
Archons damn it, he’d lost his Vision.
In his years traversing Teyvat, Diluc had seen many things, including people who’d had their Visions lost or taken from them. For people like him, who’d cast them away willingly, it hadn’t been as much of an issue--he had lost nothing but the strength of his loyalty to Mondstadt. But now…
Diluc could still remember the actions he’d taken, as a knight and Darknight Hero. He didn’t remember the feelings behind them, though. All he felt was an empty detachment, different from his lack of loyalty that sent him sprawling across Teyvat, and different too from the gnawing grief that had chased him here, though grief for what, he couldn’t say. Diluc squeezed his eyes shut and cast his mind back, tried to remember why he’d been grieving so.
He couldn’t. He knew he’d been grieving for over six months, knew he hadn’t said a single words about anything to anyone because he’d felt so damn--guilty, maybe? He didn’t know. He thought it must have been guilt, over...whoever he’d lost.
Diluc swung into a sitting position and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. What about his fight with the Prince of the Abyss Order? He had said something, asked him for death. He pressed into the recesses of his memory, and then his words came back to him.
You killed my brother. End it.
His...brother.
Diluc had had a brother.
Diluc had had a brother, and his brother had been killed by the Abyss Order, and he didn’t remember him. Didn’t remember if he was older or younger, if his hair had been Father’s red or the brown of the portraits of his mother. Didn’t remember the shape of his smile or whether he’d joined the knights or even his name.
Diluc had had a brother, and he was dead, and he couldn’t even remember him.
He had to get his Vision back.
Time passed. Diluc tried and failed to get angry, tried and failed to need a plan to get out. It was as though his passions had had a barrel of cold water dumped on them, leaving only wet ashes. Diluc couldn’t even find it in himself to care about his dead, forgotten brother much past the initial shock that he’d ever even had a brother at all. This was not good, and Diluc couldn’t even muster up enough emotion to be properly horrified.
Then the door to his cell swung open, and a man a few years younger than him with an eyepatch and a Cryo Vision stepped inside, grinning cheerily and hefting Diluc’s claymore.
Diluc frowned. “I didn’t realize members of the Abyss Order got Visions,” he said.
“Why, Master Diluc, I’m positively wounded ,” said the man. “Not least because my stab wound isn’t entirely closed yet! You know perfectly well why and how I got my Vision, you were there. Speaking of, I really hope you have yours because I couldn’t find it among Aether’s treasures of the Abyss. Among which, he told me, I number.” The man waggled his eyebrows at Diluc suggestively, still grinning.
“...No, I don’t have my Vision, the Abyss Order’s prince stole it and threw it into the woods somewhere,” Diluc said. “Also, I have no idea who you are.”
The man’s smile froze on his face. “What? But you remember your capture...were you hit on the head, or dosed with anything?”
Diluc shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of. But during my travels of Teyvat, I learned that the loss of one’s Vision can also come with the loss of memories associated with said Vision.”
“Oh,” said the man, sounded relieved. “Oh, so you can find it and remember. Not that you’d want to remember me, we hate each other. Anyway, I’m here spying for the Knights, I’ve gotten my way into the Abyss Order’s prince’s bed, it’s excellent.” His eye sparkled. “In more ways than one, too! Anyway, I have your sword, Aether--their leader--is off dealing with the traveler handing his Abyss Herald’s ass to it, and I have a metric fuckton of intel that you can bring to the knights once you escape.”
“Can’t you give it to them yourself?” Diluc asked. “Also, you’re being awfully friendly for someone who claims to hate me.”
The spy shrugged. “I mean, you hated me first. I was just following suit! And since you don’t remember me, you can’t hate me, which is wonderful!” He beamed. “Especially since I kind of died for you, you know? Only I never actually died , but the wound was pretty damn near fatal, and I took it for you, so. I suppose I don’t hate you completely.”
“What the hell,” Diluc said.
“It’ll make more sense once you get your Vision back.”
“What’s your name?” Diluc asked.
“Oh, right! Sir Kaeya Alberich, Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius, at your service! Assuming Master Jean hasn’t replaced me, that is. I have been missing for months. They might think I’m dead. Probably not, though--Jean knows I can handle myself.” He shot Diluc another winning grin. “Shall we go, then, you and I?”
“I...alright,” Diluc said, blinking. “Are you coming back to Mondstadt with me?”
Sir Kaeya shrugged. “Depends on if we’re caught! Aether’s a good lay, and all this intel is incredibly valuable, but I miss Jean and Lisa and Eula and Klee and Albedo. You as well--I suppose. Though we do hate each other.”
“Yes, you’ve...told me that quite often,” Diluc said. “Why do we hate each other?”
Sir Kaeya laughed. “Oh, Master Diluc, if I told you all the reasons you gave me we’d be here all day! Come on--Aether’ll be back soon, and I don’t think either of us wants to know what he’ll do to you if you’re caught.” He smirked, and made a slightly mocking bow. “After you.”
As Diluc and Sir Kaeya walked down the hall of wherever they were, Diluc spared the unfamiliar knight a few glances. He didn’t look as though he were from Mondstadt, and his shoulders were set with a tension that belied his easy grin and teasing words. His hand stayed over his sword, and his Vision pulsated, sending out streaks of cold air. He was on edge, and Diluc didn’t know if it was because of the escape, or his professed hatred, or the stab wound he’d mentioned, or something else.
And then a couple Abyss Mages rounded the corner, and Diluc had much bigger problems on his hands.
“You traitor!” hissed one of the Abyss Mages. “You throw us away for him?!”
Sir Kaeya’s eye hardened, and he drew his sword. “Don’t flatter yourselves--it was never any choice at all,” he snarled.
“You were supposed to be ours! Our spy, our last hope!”
“I was eight!” Sir Kaeya shouted. “Even if you guys weren’t the scum of the earth, what the hell sort of eight year old would choose the people who abandoned him over the ones who took him in?!”
“Oh, because the Ragnvidrs were so good to you,” sneered the other Mage.
“They were, actually,” snapped Sir Kaeya.
Hang on. Ragnvidrs. Stab wound. Not-quite-hatred. What?
“That one you’re rescuing there tried to kill you. Twice!”
Sir Kaeya rolled his eyes. “And Dvalin--the dragon you guys messed with--tried to kill me upwards of fifteen. Also, my loyalty lies with Acting Grand Master Jean Gunnhildr, not with any of the Ragnvidr ilk--no offense meant, Master Diluc.”
“Literally you just told me you hated me ten minutes ago,” Diluc said, baffled.
“Semantics. Anyway, enough of this stalling--I’ve killed Abyss Mages before and I’ll do it again,” Sir Kaeya said, and then lunged, shooting a blast of ice in front of him and following it up with some truly beautiful swordwork, uncomfortably similar to that of a traveling swordmaster who had stayed with the Ragnvidr family for a summer when Diluc was twelve.
Oh, because the Ragnvidrs were so good to you. That one you’re rescuing there tried to kill you--twice!
Not that you’d want to remember me, we hate each other.
Especially since I kind of died for you, you know?
You killed my brother. End it.
I was eight! What the hell sort of eight year old would choose the people who abandoned him over the ones who took him in?!
My loyalty lies with Acting Grand Master Jean Gunnhildr, not with any of the Ragnvidr ilk.
Jean had often been Diluc’s companion in childhood, before he scorned the knights and left to fight his way across the continent. It stood to reason that she’d have been close with his brother, too--whoever he was.
Possibly Sir Kaeya.
Diluc let those thoughts fade to the back of his mind as he slashed his claymore at the Abyss Mage Kaeya wasn’t going to town on. It was harder work, without his Vision, but muscle memory carried him through, and quickly enough their bodies were crumbling to ash while Sir Kaeya stripped them of valuables.
“Well then!” Sir Kaeya laughed. “Looks like I can’t stay here. I suppose I shall be accompanying you back home, Master Diluc--and I can give my information myself.” He placed his hand on the solid wall at the end of a corridor, and it opened up to reveal the door of a domain. “Hm, as I thought...Master Diluc, do you recall where you were when Aether captured you?”
“Near the Temple of the Lion. Sir Kaeya, I have...a question for you.”
“Let it rest until we get your Vision back, Master Diluc,” Sir Kaeya said. “I’m sure it will answer any questions you have, and I for one am tired and homesick. It’s been...Barbatos above, it’s been over six months since I was home. Please, let whatever it is rest.”
“...Very well,” Diluc said, following the Cavalry Captain out of the domain. It appeared to be the one between Wolvendom and Old Mondstadt, and Sir Kaeya, swiftly sent the hilichurls guarding the place to a quick death before setting off at a brisk pace towards the Temple of the Lion. Diluc followed him, both for want of his Vision and in order to tease more answers out of the man who might just be his forgotten brother.
It took them only a few hours to reach the Temple of the Lion. The woods were nearly trampled with hoof- and footprints, but they were empty of all but the regular squirrels and boars. Whoever had been here must have already left.
Sir Kaeya reached up and plucked a sunsettia from a tree, moaning in delight when he bit into it.
“It has been,” he said, when Diluc looked at him in confusion, “so long since I’ve had real, fresh fruit. Mmmm. Oh, archons, this is better than an orgasm!”
“Disgusting,” Diluc told him, and Sir Kaeya just smirked at him, bits of fruit stuck in his teeth. Diluc huffed and turned away, searching the area for his Vision. It was only once the sun began to sink in the sky that he found it, glinting, half buried in the dirt. He picked it up, and the events of the past eight months--of the past fourteen years became suddenly clear and bright in his head, bringing with them a rush of familiar fury.
Diluc gripped his Vision, seething; then he tucked it in his pocket, burnt a branch clean off of a tree, and headed over to where his horrible, awful, idiotic, suicidal, alive brother was ridding a tree of all of its fruit.
Then he hit him in the gut with the stick with all of its force.
Kaeya choked, and fell out of the tree, before grinning up at him. “I assume you’ve received your Vision, Master Diluc?” he asked.
“I am going to fucking kill you, you little shit!” Diluc shouted. “I thought you’d fucking died !”
“Sorry to disappoint?” Kaeya said, rolling out of the way. “Also, would you mind refraining from hitting me in my abdomen? Abyssal magic is pretty cool, but I’m still not completely healed, y’know.”
Diluc stopped, shamed. “Right,” he said. He considered punching Kaeya in the face. It would feel good, but wouldn't be worth the guilt churning in his gut for hitting his brother when he was already injured. “My apologies.”
Kaeya raised his eyebrows. “Apology accepted. It’s not that bad, you know, not really. I wasn’t kidding when I said their magic was impressive, you know.”
“I know,” Diluc said. “I saw you fighting.”
Kaeya grinned at him. Now that Diluc had his memories, he could see how fake it was; there was a part of Kaeya that truly was glad, he was sure, but his brother was also guarded, stressed, tired. Homesick.
“...Kaeya,” he said. “I believe there’s been a--misunderstanding. Between us.”
Kaeya raised his eyebrows. “Oh?” he said. “Do elaborate, Master Diluc.”
Ouch.
“When you were--stabbed. You claimed that I hated you. And, too, when I’d lost my memories, you said we hated each other.”
“I did,” Kaeya said cautiously, the mirth fading from his cheeks.
“That isn’t...entirely true. I don’t pretend to know what you feel about me, but--Kaeya, no matter what happened between us, no matter what I said, you’re still my brother, and I still love you, and those months when I thought you were dead were among the worst in my life.”
Kaeya stared at him, his one eye wide and rapidly going teary. “You’re lying,” he said.
“I’m not.”
“You are. You--you have to be.” Kaeya’s voice broke, and he turned away, scrubbing at his cheek with his palm. “You have to be,” he repeated softly.
“I’m sorry,” Diluc said.
“Whatever.” Kaeya straightened his shoulders. “I’m going back to Mondstadt. You can come if you please, or don’t. I don't care.”
And Diluc watched his brother leave, regret and loss and guilt and anger coiling in his throat like snakes.