The Banquet

Condensed vapours burst out as the vessel was opened. A small being stumbled from inside, landing in a puddle of liquified chalk and fluids. It shivered at the newness of its existence. It was sloppy and unrefined, although it had enough humanity for Subject Two to gasp in wonder.

“Master, it looks like older brother.”

The being was limp and dumb, too naive to cringe away. She pulled its arm towards her and sliced into untouched skin.

“Golden ichor in place of blood. Acidic to the touch.” A few drops splashed to the ground. They lay gleaming there, and Subject Two gazed at them curiously. “It lacks the same properties as yours, failing to oxidize or gain acidity. An indicator of its inferiority is the dullness of its colour.”

She beckoned Subject Two closer. He kept still as she sliced open his palm. “See the difference? While this being’s essence is weak, humans are worse. You are my dearest creation; stronger, faster, less prone to hunger and fatigue. You are superior physically, but there is one way in which homunculi are inherently inferior.”

“Hom- homunculi?”

“An artificial human. A vessel of false life. As a creation of mine, you could count this being along your brethren.”

The being tottered to its feet, reaching to Subject Two. “You are doing well,” he told it. “Please take another step towards me.”

“Have you found the truth of our lesson, Subject Two? I will remind you once more. It is the essence of being; what separates homunculi from proper humans.”

Subject Two shook his head. “I apologize, Master. I have not.”

She noted with fascination that his facial features had drained of colour. “It is of no great matter. Watch and listen well.” She held out her hand and the being shrieked, stumbling to its knees. Ichor ran from its nose and mouth.

“Master, you’re hurting it! Please stop!” Subject Two pulled it closer as if trying to shield it. The attempt was pathetic and weak, supporting her assessment of Subject Two’s greatest deficiencies.

“Release it, Subject Two. This is the will of your creator.”

His lip quivered. “Master, it’s the same as me, isn’t it? Please… I can share my notes, and my bed - I don’t mind -”

“You dare defy me? It is a homunculus. A flawed creation. In a human, its defects in quality could be forgivable. In a homunculus, it has failed. This was its only chance at existence.”

“But you said humans can reincarnate. Can’t he have another chance? Maybe he will do better… maybe he will be born better next time. Surely… like a human…”

“I shall ask you only once. Move.”

Subject Two shuddered, breaking eye contact. He held tightly to the being. “Master… please, don’t.”

“You dare defy your creator? You foolish, unthinking beast.” She kicked him aside. Pulling the being to its feet, she forced it in front of Subject. “Watch closely,” she demanded. “Useless being, cease to exist.”

Even a newborn could have the primitive urge to survive. It pulled away, defying her will. Displeased, she pushed further. It screamed only once before bursting into dust.

Subject Two was caught in the resulting mess. He went pale as the chalk which now covered him. Kneeling, his head bowed low as he pushed together handfuls of dust. “…I studied this. I can fix it… I’m good enough to fix it…”

“Subject Two.”

He did not respond, continuing to collect the remains. She had created the wretched thing, yet he dared defy her? Such insolence must be punished.

Summoning from her qi storage, she flung out a handful of powder. For a moment there was no reaction. Then there was a singular spark. Fed by the chalk, it flared into a brilliant golden flame.

She had never taught him to put out fires. He hit at the flames, trying to douse them with brute force. They were only fuelled further. “Master, please!” His precious skin turned black and red like a roast.

“Sit still, you useless thing. I have truly failed in my duties if you cannot hold to decorum.”

Subject Two bowed his head. His voice was soft and pained. “I apologize.”

“This is the difference,” she said. A faint crackle accompanied her words. His flesh was being eaten up and turned to ash. “Homunculi can be destroyed like nothing. Such creations aren’t worthy to be called human, through the simple fact that their souls are useless. No, they have no souls at all. They can be treated like the worms and vermin which crawl the earth, for to give up their chance at perfection would be spitting on the face of the gods.”

Subject Two’s head dipped in a semblance of a nod. She sprinkled a new handful of powder. As she watched the fire douse, she saw that Subject Two gazed forlornly at the being. Although much of it had been burnt away, a pile of ash and bone had been left in damp clumps. “Master… what will happen to its ashes? Is it… truly gone?”

“The ashes will be scattered, Subject Two. It is a homunculus, fated to die once and never return. I do not wish to hear you speak on this again.”

He nodded again. It was more reluctant this time. “…I apologize, Master. I will study more and make you proud.”

“You have much to learn in terms of elegance.” She knelt and ran a finger over his creased forehead. “Smooth out that distasteful expression, Subject Two.”

Although he tried to do so, the result was rather pathetic. She sighed and pulled him into her arms. Even homunculi were susceptible to such desires, and this creation was much needier than his brother. A small gasp came from his lips as she brushed his burns, but the tension leached from his body, small hands rising to rest tentatively on her back.

“Your brother was not so defiant during his lesson. He knew well enough to let the being be, never mind sully himself with its inferiority.”

“I’m sorry, Master. Please don’t be upset.”

“You are my dearest creation. But your disobedience wears on me, little one. There is too much work. I cannot waste time on your discipline. From now on you must work twice as hard. You will push to surpass your brother and commit your lesson today to your heart.”

A shiver shook his body. He was always so eager for praise. “Thank you, Master. I understand that I am not a human. I must be the best I can, or I will not deserve to live.”

“My dear creation.” She held out her hand. He jolted away at the movement, a testament to his flightiness. Yet another ill-born habit to train out of him.

After a moment, Subject Two pressed his palm to hers. His hand was almost endearingly small, fingers barely reaching the top of her palm. She sent through a pulse of qi. At this early stage in his life, he would need it to start the healing process.

She watched with fascination as the burns healed. The skin was black and charred, peeling back in large sections to show the flesh underneath. Within a handful of moments, it stitched itself together. It was pure and unblemished one more.

“Good boy,” she murmured. “You have become unclean. Go forth and cleanse yourself, but do not forget your lesson. To be human is to be flawed, for a human will live a thousand lives before this world has ended. But to be inhuman is to be perfect. Use your life wisely, little one. I will only give you one.”

“It’s an honour to be called back. I must admit, I would’ve thought she wanted nothing to do with me.”

Liu Daiyu said sullenly, “You’re only a remnant of the last generation. Don’t go about thinking you’re special.”

Nan Seok nodded thoughtfully. “Tani Haru also defected, did he not?”

If possible, Liu Daiyu’s expression grew even gloomier. “Don’t put him in the same boat as you.”

Hwa Iseul hovered by the doorway like a ghost. Nan Seok waved her over, and she hurried to set a cup of tea in front of Liu Daiyu.

She frowned at the cup, pushing it away. “The best masters, knights and investigators alike - bed-ridden, purging from both ends. This trick might have worked back then, but word spreads quickly amongst the sects nowadays.” 

Nan Seok had nothing to say to that, so Liu Daiyu sighed. “If you know anything at all, I would owe you a great favour. I don’t know what to do anymore. And that so-called cousin of hers is ignoring everything I say.”

Some support from ‘Master Daiyu’ could go a long way, no matter how distasteful Nan Seok found her. “Of course,” he said. “I shall find him today.”

Liu Daiyu nodded, folding her hands in her lap. “I need you to deliver a message. I would write a letter, but I know how nosy people like you are. ‘I don’t believe what they’re saying. No matter what happened, you are welcome in Ximseong. Please return soon.’”

Who was Liu Daiyu to say that? An investigation would be ordered if Guiying ever returned. And even if she was innocent, there would be talk. Her status was stained. In Nan Seok’s eyes, her life was over.

Liu Daiyu summoned a pouch of mora, handing it to Nan Seok. “I will pursue you for fraud if any goes missing.” She frowned severely and added, “She’s probably run back to Liyue or Sumeru and joined another sect. I’m that case, just give me back my mora. I’m not funding a defector.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll make sure he delivers the message. You should hurry up and get back to the sect. I’m sure there are lots of sticky little disciples you need to discipline. Perhaps they’ve fallen into a kimchi jar, or gotten lost in the pantry.”

Liu Daiyu rolled her eyes at the casual address. “At least I have disciples. How long were you a master again? At least long enough for a dog to take a dump, right?”

“With that kind of mouth on one of the esteemed masters, I can only shudder to think of the sect’s state now.”

Liu Daiyu glared at him, standing to leave. “I’ll have you know, the sect is doing just fine. How else would I be using a teleportation array?”

Nan Seok doubted the sect had much in funds. Sending the knights to the shrine, bringing him and Captain Eula to Ximseong; this waste of qi was merely to save face.

Despite his urge to say so, he resolved to keep his mouth shut. Knowing her temperament, Liu Daiyu might just storm off to Ximseong by herself. Women were so hot-tempered.

Hwa Iseul appeared from the kitchen, her timing suspiciously perfect. It was clear that she’d been listening in, but after the first few investigators, Nan Seok had stopped caring altogether. She cast a disappointed look at the untouched teacups, pouting slightly, but instead asked hopefully, “Can we practice today, seonsaeng-nim?”

“Maybe in a day or two, Iseul-ah.”

Hwa Iseul gained an aggravated look on her face, nearly storming off there and then. However, her eyes flicked toward the empty spaces on the walls, and she grew quiet, fiddling with the sash of her hanbok.

Nan Seok asked patiently, “What is it?”

Hwa Iseul hesitated before speaking in a low tone. “Nan Seok-nim, this disciple would like to ask a question. The man with gold hair… the Chalk Prince… was that really shrine keeper-ssi?”

Hwa Iseul was a little oblivious sometimes, but surely even she’d put that much together. Seeing Nan Seok’s expression, she protested, “He just looked so different! It’s like comparing a caterpillar to a butterfly, and when we visited the shrine… I didn’t even realize it was him! I just ran by, without saying anything once. And that ended up being the last time I ever saw him… and he died in such a horrible way. What do I do, seonsaeng-nim? Your mother… the Kims… little Byeol… I’m a cultivator, right? I should have done more… trained harder - or - or -“ Her eyes welled up with tears.

Nan Seok couldn’t help but feel he had let down his student. “You cannot blame yourself for anything, Iseul-ah. Things became messy with the demon, but it was only a hiccup in the plan. It went just as he wanted it.”

Hwa Iseul’s tears dried up, and she now regarded Nan Seok with an expression he didn’t like. “…What do you mean, ‘as he wanted it’? How could anyone… how could he want to die in such an awful way…?”

He had said too much. It was none of Hwa Iseul’s business. “The method doesn’t matter, Iseul-ah. It was the principle of the thing.”

“…It isn’t right, seonsaeng-nim.” Hwa Iseul looked alarmed. Perhaps it was the conviction in his voice or the dark circles under his eyes.

“Iseul-ah, what do you think would’ve happened if he hadn’t died? The realms would have gone out of balance! The world we know would cease to be, and thousands of innocents would die every day. It was necessary, all of it was, and this was his greatest work! His greatest plan! You should be thankful you got to play a role in it, no matter how unappreciated it will be!”

Distressed, Hwa Iseul blurted out her thoughts. “But he didn’t deserve any of it! You should have stopped him!”

“Didn’t… deserve?” Not only did Nan Seok laugh, but it sounded strained and euphoric at the same time. “Didn’t deserve! Isn’t that something, Iseul-ah!!! Did my mother deserve to die? Do pigs deserve to be slaughtered? Gods, do even demons deserve dissipation?! Deserve, deserve, that’s all bullshit!!!”

As he was talking, he’d begun to shake Hwa Iseul’s shoulders. This whole display was altogether too much for the young girl, who idolized her teacher with all her heart. “Why are you acting this way, Seongsaeng-nim? Please calm down!”

Liu Daiyu’s muffled voice came through the wall. Both froze in place. “Are you ready to go? What’s going on in there?” The door began to slide open before a gust of wind slammed it shut.

A look of hesitation flashed across Hwa Iseul’s face. She turned towards the door. “Master Dai - !“

She opened and closed her mouth. No sound would come out, and she stared at Nan Seok with wide eyes.

He held her gaze unrepentantly. There was a faint crack as his fan broke a little further.

Liu Daiyu shook the door. “The divine leader will have me thrown into solitary, status or not, if I miss any more of the retrieval.”

Hwa Iseul’s fists curled by her sides. She shouted at Nan Seok, and when no sound would emerge, ran towards the door. A gust of wind threw her down, holding her to the floor.

“There’s been a change of plans. Hwa Iseul won’t be coming along after all. Please wait a moment while I speak to her.”

Liu Daiyu sighed audibly. “I don’t have time for this. I’ll go ahead with Captain Eula, so have fun walking to Ximseong.”

“No need for that. My apologies for the wait.”

Nan Seok did not look at her, a cold stare fixed instead on the floor. The winds lessened enough for Hwa Iseul to sit up.

“Nan Seok-nim,” she said. Her voice was feather thin; she was afraid Liu Daiyu would overhear. Or perhaps it was her teacher she feared. “Please don’t leave me here.”

He was the only person she spoke to so formally. And apart from Hwa Yong, he was the only one she cared for in this life. ‘Nan Seok-nim,’ ‘Seonaaeng-nim’, even ‘cultivator-nim,’ - these tumbled from her lips over and over again.

He didn’t spare her a second glance. Still on the floor, Hwa Iseul reached for the hem of his robes. Such a gesture was pitiful and desperate. It was thankful she stopped at the last moment, seeing he walked away from the home’s entrance.

There were sounds like crashing objects. Hwa Iseul flinched and drew herself to her feet. She looked down and understood what Nan Seok had been staring at.

When she fell, she’d done so on a stain of Yue Li’s blood. The wood around it had lightened from vigorous scrubbing. It even bore deep cuts and stabs, but it refused to come out.

“Move.”

She had barely taken a step before the fan swept forward. The floor was smashed to pieces in a large circle. It was good that Nan Seok didn’t look, as the earth below was also stained with blood.

Hwa Iseul stared at Nan Seok as he drew further away. She only had a split second to speak before he would leave. The ribbon, the hanbok, the faint powder and rouge she had applied this morning. It was all useless. For all her lessons and dress-up, it had been just a parody of masters like Nan Seok. Hwa Iseul was nothing without a teacher.

“Please come back soon,” she whispered. “I don’t want you to leave.”

Nan Seok didn’t look at her. In his arms was a package wrapped in paper. He unwrapped it, showing a flash of the contents. A letter was dropped out. It didn’t touch the ground before it was ripped into nothing. “I’ll bring you hair ribbons, Iseul-ah. I know you’re running low.”

Hwa Iseul stared at the package as Nan Seok walked away. The door shut behind him and left the room shadowed.

The scraps of paper were too finely shredded to piece together. But there were portions with bright gold instead of black ink. They made up the seal of her teacher’s former sect.

This meant his sect sent both golden fabric and a letter. A sash had poked out from the paper; the fabric undoubtedly made a master’s robe. For the first time, she felt a hint of doubt. But he had promised to teach her, and she wouldn’t lose faith in her teacher so easily.

The two demons disappeared in a haze of sparks, Yae Miko and the ‘parleying’ youth left behind. She only examined the body briefly, her expression cool and disinterested. “There are no signs of demonic energy, as expected.“

Liu Daiyu’s tone was dangerously curt. “You think we’d trust a demon’s word on that? We would have experts look over the body. But thanks to your little encampment outside the city, it’ll take months to do anything.”

Yae Miko smirked. “I’d assume your arrays are working fine enough, unless, of course, there was some shortage of spiritual power. But the Binding God’s always been popular, hasn’t she? I’m sure this incident hadn’t disrupted that at all.”

At Liu Daiyu’s expression, Yae Miko knew she’d hit a nerve. Even if it wasn’t strictly true that their sect was out of resources, no one could deny the damage done to their reputation. “I’m sure this altercation will be over soon enough. But this misunderstanding has left the demon realm severely damaged. We will, of course, require some kind of compensation for your sect’s part in this. We shall send a messenger soon. Please prepare for our demands.”

Liu Daiyu was not a master of diplomacy. Under this tirade of words, she could only blink rapidly, looking at Kaeya. When no help came, she resorted to old habits, shooting a sullen glare at Yae Miko.

During this time, the parley youth had drawn up an array with a pot of glimmering ink. It opened with a distinctive ‘ping’, the smell of cherry blossoms drifting through.

Yae Miko smiled graciously, and the two women exchanged polite bows. “I wouldn’t expect ‘Master Kaeya’ to have such poor manners.”

Liu Daiyu’s pointy elbow jabbed Kaeya in the ribs. He paid no attention. Liu Daiyu frowned, but Yae Miko waved it off. “‘This bounty will send more attention your way, be it well-intentioned or not. Handle it well.” Though she stared intently at Kaeya, he did not notice her message. His gaze was instead fixed on the motionless body before him.

Many years ago, blood had filled her nose with a harsh tang. It had soaked the hem of her robes, the expanse of sand, the small figure lying there like a corpse.

His head had turned away. But his body was painfully close to theirs. A child with no mother, a brother with no sister. He’d covered one eye, but it was just as vacant now.

There was only so much she could do for the little cub. She sighed quietly before stepping through the array.

Scarcely a breath had passed before another array opened in the cliffside. This one was tinted a royal blue, and opened with the typical ‘ding’. A cultivator in a dark kimono stood at the other side, a sharpened polearm held tightly in his left hand.

A few juniors peeked from behind him, faces pale and strained. It was only after both masters gave terse confirmations that they dared to step through, holding tightly to their weapons.

The array had been opened in the designated location, very close to the sect’s front gates. Those grand doors had been firmly shut, the tumult of the rabble outside matching that of the rabble within. Cultivators and nobles alike, draped in every colour imaginable.

Having waited hours for this moment, their topics of discussion had wobbled this way and that. A group of vendors had even snuck in, bearing trays of teas and sweets; their customers, cultivators and nobles alike craned their necks for a glance at the procession.

Maple leaves drifted through the air, peach-orange and cranberry-red. The ambience was tense and crisp. Though the sound of the array opening was but a pleasant ‘ding’, its volume was exaggerated by the sudden silence which befell the crowd.

Tani Haru was popular for his passionate and steady leadership, as well as his striking features and dark, phoenix eyes. He cast them now on the crowd, brow furrowing slightly. “Master Azzi,” he said, nodding to the woman who stepped towards him.

Her appearance was neat and modest, accentuating a timeless elegance. At first sight, one might not realize her status - that is, if not for the richness of her apparel. Her robes were green and gold, fashioned from fine materials to compliment her dark skin. Hair woven in intricate braids, pinned together with a golden hairpiece - if the type of metal wasn’t ample indication, the sigil was that of the Binding God’s followers. “Master Haru,” she said, nodding in return. Though her demeanour was soft as a verdant flower, her tone and gaze were colder than ice.

Whatever attention their exchange garnered, it flew away at the next sight. The juniors marched through the array, spines stiff as boards. Their bier was as empty as the day it had been carved. Melting into the crowd, they were bombarded with a rush of questions. Weapons were drawn all around, the air growing heavy with elemental energy as tension suddenly grew.

Like a bird shot from the sky, it plummeted sharply at the next entrance. It was the solo cultivator from Mondstadt, looking rather bedraggled compared to his rumoured peerless beauty. That was understandable - he’d spent a long week out in the open, devoting himself to the distasteful task of piecing the Chalk Prince together.

But the disciples had a perfectly good bier - it was simply incomprehensible that he sully himself by carrying the corpse in his arms. Though there had been talk of the perfect preservation, most wrinkled their nose at the sight.

The cultivator - the now-esteemed Kaeya, mysterious in his unmentioned familial name - was probably using some exotic Mondstadt technique to stop the Chalk Prince’s revival.

If he held the body a little closer than necessary, the way in which he did so allayed any of the nastier rumours. This Kaeya was modest and straight-edged to the extreme. The Chalk Prince had been dressed in a simple white hanbok, the jeogori riding up as Kaeya stepped through the array. With the smallest brush against exposed skin, his slender hand jolted back as if laid against a blistering surface. He reached out, pulling the fabric back into place.

If one were to make a simple complaint, it would be the position in which he held the body. One arm supporting his thighs, the other bracing his back - the Chalk Prince was angled away from the crowd, the rising of his chest indiscernible through the loose white robes. As well as that, his head laid limply against the other’s neck, face curtained by strands of gold and inky black.

For all they knew, the Chalk Prince might be well and alive. Demands and threats were being shouted when a healer quickly stepped forward. Although she hesitated at Kaeya’s expression, she found the courage to reach out and lay her palm against the Chalk Prince’s forehead. Her face was blank as she moved two fingers to the throat. A long moment passed. She felt the inside of a wrist before stepping away. “There is no heartbeat.”

Chatter broke out amongst the juniors. Their seniors forget to scold, also caught up in the moment. The day visibly lightened.

A Snezhnayan youth spoke up with a sincere smile. “Congratulations, Master Kaeya! Don’t worry about the investigation. Without the three of you, who knows how long it would have taken? The conflict is over because of you!”

This sentiment was echoed by his peers.

“It’s over at last. No more fighting.. no more eating stale food…”

A member of the Binding God’s sect chimed in, “…No more angry civilians banging on the gates... yelling at us in the streets…”

“It’s all thanks to Master Kaeya - thank gods for him! Let’s have a feast in his honour!”

There was a cheer of assent, the juniors rushing forward to congratulate the solo cultivator.

Master Azzi said mildly, “Keep your distance from the body. There must be an extraordinary amount of resentment, if not an outright curse. The body should be examined quickly and prepared for burial.”

Tani Haru frowned. “Don’t speak nonsense. We should burn the body at once, and scatter the ashes into the ocean.”

Master Azzi’s lips pulled taut in an almost-interceptible frown. “However you feel about him, you were both part of this sect.”

“It isn’t my sect anymore. And a creature like this doesn’t deserve burial.”

A few of the others also objected. “He was frivolous and wasteful enough, spending qi and mora like they were nothing. Why use more on a funeral? Just burn the body and be done with it.”

Taking initiative, Master Haru began to search for any pyro allogenes, looking pleased as he caught sight of Liu Daiyu. However, Master Azzi was less than enthused.

“Not only do you leave the sect, but you come here and try to start this up? Show some sense, Master Haru! The body must be examined and studied before even speaking of burial. This is not your choice to make.”

While this conversation had been ongoing, Kaeya had been slowly making his way through the crowd. A girl with long black pigtails stuck herself in his path, a pad of paper at the ready. “Master Kaeya, a word if you will! What was your relationship with the Chalk Prince? Are you here with a sect? Who are you, exactly?”

Though met with silence, the girl pressed on. “Where are you from, Master Kaeya? Personally, I’d bet on Sumeru, but there is no end to the rumours! I even heard about a certain someone defecting from the Knights of Favonius! Is that related to the current investigation at all? I hear that Captain Eula -“ The girl lit up at the new appearance. “Destiny smiles upon me! A moment of your time, please! Is it true that a Cataclysm emerged? What does that mean for this world? Was the plan a group effort, or did Master Kaeya play the main role?”

Taking Kaeya by the shoulder, Eula steered him through the crowd and into the main hall.

The gates slammed shut behind them, blocking out the clamour. Cool air drifted across Kaeya’s brow, sending untidy strands of hair to float in the air. Albedo had gained some warmth from his own body. Though most would feel light in Kaeya’s arms, Albedo’s lightness felt more disturbing than the others. Kaeya had to resist the urge to squeeze, make sure he was real.

Eula was saying something, the same as everyone else. “Something something something. Something story something something something…something is imperative. Something, something listening to me?”

Kaeya nodded dully. There was a heavy creak as the ornate doors were opened once more.

“Thank you, thank you,” said Master Azzi, waving away a group of cultivators. “Farewell then.”

The patter of footsteps, and a second creaking.

Albedo’s head had fallen limply forwards, at an awkward angle against Kaeya’s shoulder. Kaeya carefully adjusted it, making sure he could breathe.

Some dull portion of his mind chimed in, indicating the new presence before him. He really should look up.

‘Look up,’ he urged himself. ‘Don’t think about it. Just do it.’ He obeyed with great effort. The first thing he saw was Master Azzi. Behind her, The disciples still had the bier. It was built of steady mahogany and traced over with golden runes.

She gestured towards it, brow furrowed. “Something something something.”

Eula said something as well. Her hand went towards Kaeya - no, towards Albedo. He jolted back, Jayu summoned by reflex from his qi storage. Rather than falling to the floor, it hovered in the air, eliciting gasps from the watching cultivators.

A golden substance covered Jayu’s blade. It shook itself, but the blood had long since dried. A low whine grew louder with each moment. It shot down a hallway, the sound of crashing porcelain accompanying it.

Eula stepped closer, movement slow and careful. Though her mouth moved as if speaking, all Kaeya heard was the rustle of fabric, the roar of his heartbeat.

Cotton dragged roughly against his hands, Eula attempting to pry Albedo from his grasp. Kaeya’s kick did nothing to dissuade her, and she took hold of Albedo’s shoulder.

Caught between two immovable forces, there was a sickening creak as the joint began to tear. Eula grunted as Albedo was abruptly released, sending her a few steps back.

There was the clicking of urgent footsteps against the floor. Murmurs. A hand on his shoulder. Hot, scorching - but Kaeya was helpless to push it away, feet rooted, eyes frozen to Albedo.

The ocean was far away, but it had come here for Kaeya. The bitter salt, the dull rush of waves. In and out went the tide, lapping further and further with each violent tug. It filled Kaeya’s senses, growing louder, and higher until it reached its breaking point. It was a scream, cracking glass, a thousand shrill bells.

Choked squelching. Flesh and bone giving way. A deer’s flank, a man’s back; eerily similar in this moment. It was too easy. Kaeya was like a god bringing forth blood at his command. It swelled around his blade, dripping to the ground. But there hadn’t been enough of it. It had been charred by the ritual. Both circulations were melted and fused. Veins glued in the wrong places and to the wrong organs.

His fault - the burns, the ritual, the death; all of it. Albedo was gone, and it was his fault. The waves broke. There was only defeating silence.

Eula laid Albedo on the bier. His neck was exposed, and he seemed vulnerable to the herd of cultivators. He had not always looked so helpless. So utterly still. But the old Albedo was gone, and so was the one Kaeya had come to know. He was no longer there to smile at the taste of honey. To laugh, to make odd jokes, to talk for hours about things only he cared for. He could never take away the terrible pain in Kaeya’s chest.

Albedo - Kaeya interrupted himself, knowing the truth. It was not Albedo who was carried out. It was his corpse. The others followed until only Eula and Kaeya remained.

“I know it must be hard for you.” Her words were no longer muffled, travelling freely to Kaeya’s ears. “But you need to pull it together. He wouldn’t want this for you.”

Kaeya was suddenly laughing. He couldn’t stop until his sides were aching. “Don’t tell me you took your own advice! You might have been a little too good at it, Captain Eula!”

Eula’s aura flared dangerously in warning. Kaeya laughed again, erasing the wetness on his face with a careless swipe of his sleeve. “I’m sure you told yourself, ‘This is what she wanted’. It made it easy to take the missions, the promotions, the blood money. All from the hands of her killers. Did they ask for a lapdog, or did you offer yourself freely? Eroch killed her, but you killed her heart. And when she was dead, you sent her family to follow after her.”

Eula‘a face twisted, hand jerking to the hilt of her claymore. Her voice was low, anguished, taut with betrayal. “I told you that in confidence.”

“Come now, Captain. It’s a lesson I was taught at a very young age, one that most people should know by now. ‘Don’t trust anyone, least of all a proven traitor.’ I’m surprised that both of you have forgotten it.” Kaeya snapped his fingers in mock realization. “I suppose she lacked the time to contemplate. The fall off a cliff is much faster than you’d think.”

The claymore was drawn with a deadly ‘shing’. “I’ve heard my share of insults, but you cross a line when you slander Amber.”

Kaeya grinned. “Now we’re getting somewhere! Let’s see if the Lawrence bloodline is all it’s cracked up to be!”

“I bear no ties to the Lawrence Clan.”

“And you’ve done so well in disproving that.”

The air was charged with frost, Kaeya’s breath coming in puffs of white. Eula’s first strike hit the wall behind him, her blade sinking deep as Kaeya dodged away.

“Are you still holding back? I thought captains were the ‘best of the best’. Your promotion is just another failure by the useless knights.”

Eula tore her claymore free. Ice gathered on its broad blade, sheathing off into deadly arcs.

Kaeya snatched an ornate brazier, nearly dropping it from the heat. He flung off its lid and threw up the contents to block the attack. With a sharp hiss, the room was obscured with steam.

Eula cleared the air with a few swings from her claymore. Her eyes narrowed at Kaeya’s disappearance. Turning abruptly, she was met by a blur of movement, a chair picked up and slammed violently into her body. Though her blade came up to counter it, it was too slow to prevent the legs from slamming into her chest. She took a step back, shielding her face from the wooden fragments.

Kaeya snatched a long piece of wood from the air, spinning on his heel to bring the jagged edge against Eula’s next blow. A moment before his arm was hit, he sharply twisted his wrist, allowing the blade to glance off the piece of wood ineffectively.

Ice sloughed into existence at an alarming rate, shooting through the air to be met with flashes of fire. Kaeya kept his eyes firmly on Eula and her blade, mind caught up in their dangerous dance. Parry. A step back, a step to the left - block. Counter strike.

The first blow to land was Kaeya’s, fabric tearing as blood lanced a snow-white thigh. Eula’s claymore caught his arm with a thud. A second blow shattered the chair leg.

Kaeya’s blood ran down the blade, branching and crystallizing. It left crimson snowflakes across its surface.

Eula levelled it at his eye. “Take back what you said.”

Kaeya laughed breathlessly. “Rather presumptuous of you, Captain. Who said I’m done fighting?”

He held out his left hand. “Jayu! Come!”

For an awkward moment, he wasn’t sure that Jayu had heard. But in the next, Eula sucked in a gasp of air as Jayu rocketed through the hall. Kaeya caught it with a grunt, arm nearly popping from its socket.

When they say, ‘Never bring a knife to a sword fight’, they should add, ‘Never raise a damp weapon against a cryo user’. Jayu was soaked in water, the glance of Eula’s claymore leaving Kaeya’s hand frozen to its hilt. He pushed on, skin tearing from the ice. Red blossomed across Jayu’s hilt, dripping to join the puddles on the floor.

The addition of a real sword had levelled the field in Kaeya’s favour. He was reckless and focused. Eula no longer fought for Amber’s honour; she held to her own life.

Their movements grew slower as the fight dragged on. He knew she was holding back.

“You let her die in Mondstadt, so you came here and repeated your mistake! Now you can’t defend her honour? The gods must be shaken! They wonder when you’ll stop tormenting her!”

Kaeya’s blood solidified, freezing his hand to Jayu’s hilt. A flurry of snowflakes took over the room, leaving the world flooded with freezing nips and tears. Eula’s claymore took on a blue, vicious hue.

Kaeya’s eye widened as he took a step back, stumbling over a piece of debris. Eula wrenched her blade back, but it was too late to be redirected. It would sever his throat and chest, killing him instantly.

One thought crossed Kaeya’s mind. Or rather, it stuck to the centre. The words slipped out as easily as a curse. He’d thought them hundreds of times. In the day and night, the cold and heat, he knelt in the grainy sands.

“Just one more chance.”

He had no company but an inhuman sinner. It was all good news. Its heart had been devoured and burnt and pierced through with blades. Its heart had been torn apart and sunk in lightless depths.

There were so many deaths from that cold and rotten heart. It deserved curses and revulsion, to be struck and burnt until nothing remained. It needed punishment for its sins. It had to kneel on a beach, a plea on its lips.

‘I’ll be kind and gentle. I’ll give up what I am for what I am not. I’ll give it all - anything, everything!’

This sinner was a blemish to the heavens. Living fearful for years, he hid from their gaze like a criminal. He a fox and they the hunters; he a gnat and they the gods. But he bared his soul on the sands. He begged until his throat cracked, wept until his eyes ran dry. This sinner could not let go of him, this person he hated and cherished so deeply.

To the gods, the demons, to anything with ears;

‘Please. Just one more chance.’

There was a whisper as the blade met his neck. His hope was futile, and his heart was a vile chunk of meat.

‘‘One more chance?’’

‘You should have been kind the first time.’