The Banquet

“Master Rhinedottir?”

Stepping over a pile of maps and diagrams, Amira carefully made her way through the maze. A tower of books jolted. With her hands occupied, she could only hold her breath as it steadied.

Similar stacks ran as far as the eye could see. If one dug deep enough, they might uncover tables under them. A keen eye could pick out their edges, but the items both above and below would sooner draw attention. A dented crown, dried flowers, a pyro slime in stasis. Jars of chalk and piles of dated anatomy charts. One would find it inappropriate to call the divine leader’s possessions ‘junk’. But at the same time, one would struggle to find a word more accurate.

Despite being called ‘rooms’, it was a singular space, coveted by many of the newer disciples as they adjusted to communal living. Although once claimed to rival the king’s, the only quality that remained was size.

It was clear even in darkness. If one craned their neck and looked up, they could make out a dark, rectangular shadow against the lighter gray of the walls. The eye would be drawn to a distant edge, where a pinprick of yellow seeped into the area around it. The walls ran perpendicular to this light, creating a box around it.

Three walls were obscured, and the darkness at Amira’s back came closer with every step. She rounded a corner to come face-to-face with light. The speck was really a lamp, stubbornly trying to light up the surrounding void. It was small and rather lopsided. A four-cornered roof hung over screened sides, golden roses trailing the paper. In the corner, a small sentence could be seen.

‘For Master.’

Although the lamp’s crude and somewhat ugly design had an endearing quality to it, Amira wished it weren’t necessary at all. Behind the wall of thick curtains, the sun shone bright in the sky.

Amira set down the tray of food and cleared her throat. Several moments passed before she dared to speak.

“Master Rhinedottir?”

The divine leader continued to write as if she hadn’t heard. Despite the mountains of work hiding her from view, her desk was organized with ruthless precision. A pen rolled to its side, and without looking, she returned it to the correct position.

Amira shifted her weight from one foot to the other. “This week’s rations have run out. Civilians are complaining by the gates.”

Rhinedottir set down her brush. “You have an opinion,” she said. Rather than a question or statement, her tone made it seem like a command.

“A woman came with her children today. They were already struggling, and supplies haven’t come in for a week now. The prices for what’s left are so high they’ve resorted to eating their sandals. It has been many weeks. Either Yeongsan’s carriers perished, or they were not sent at all.”

Rhinedottir said nothing, letting Amira fill the silence.

“We’re stuck with giving out rations, so the city hates us for running out of food. But the only thing left is what we’ve set aside for Yeongsan.” Amira clasped her hands as her speech sped up. It was like she might lose courage by pausing to breathe. “With the increased risk, no one is willing to bring them supplies. Our sect is too busy, and their village is too high in the mountains. We’ve had no word since the conflict began.”

“You have a point,” said Rhinedottir. “Present it, or do not speak at all. The gods have no time for mortal pleasantries.”

Amira’s response was impossible to hear.

“Am I an oracle, that you force me to guess?”

Amira cleared her throat. “We should distribute Yeongsan’s rations.”

Rhinedottir was silent, and Amira repeated the words with more certainty. “I do not suggest this rashly. For nights I have thought and debated, and this is the only answer. We must save those in front of us, rather than overextend ourselves for a village that may or may not exist. At least with Yeongsan, I… we will not watch them starve.”

Rhinedottir stared at her for nearly a minute in silence before nodding.

 “Master Rhinedottir, I – thank you, I, really, I –”

“Yeongsan will receive their rations.”

“But there is not enough. We cannot afford –”

“Yeongsan will receive their rations, and you will find a surplus for the city.”

Realization dawned on Amira, and her jaw snapped shut as she bowed deeply. “Thank you, divine leader.”

Rhinedottir was unimpressed by her theatrics. Let them starve, let them eat. It made no difference to her. She stamped a design onto the letter and folded it carefully, opening the lantern to reveal a bowl of wax suspended over the flame. It was poured onto the paper and pressed down with a carved stamp. She waited for the wax to set before folding the letter into the left bundle.

“Send the one on the right to Seol Hyuk.”

The nomination would be well-received by anyone. Ximseong loved him, and the Council itself was considering him for Eunmyeong’s seat. But he knew he was inadequate. He would reject both, and the complaints around the master’s position would die down.

“And the one on the left…? Where should we send that one?”

Rhinedottir’s most perfect creation had once come to her with a problem. It was customary to send golden robes to any invited master. But the disciples of the sect had somehow memorized the exact size and weight of such bundles. If she sent an invitation, half the city would know in an instant. He had advised her to disguise them to stop rumours. But for Seol Hyeok’s, it was preferred. As for the one on the left…

Rhinedottir had expected a servant to bring the food, someone who had adequate knowledge of their place in the world. This spoiled girl would almost certainly look inside.

It was of no matter, as any rumours would be uprooted by the looming spectacle.

“Send it to Cheongsu Village.”

Tobias was sick of it. He really was. He was tired, hungry, and covered in all kinds of mysterious fluids. He wanted to cry each time a commoner or noble or who cares what barged into the infirmary. So when the opportunity to leave came up, he practically jumped to volunteer.

He escaped just as someone new was brought in – Seol Hyeok, again – hurrying to the nearest exit. Most windows or doors had been blocked off, but he had mapped a route in his head to the closest source of fresh air. He’d been on duty for days, cutting rot off wounds, getting pus squirted all over him, smelling piss and blood and gods knew what –

He skidded to a stop as he nearly ran into Amira. Instead of her usual sari, she was wearing the standard hanbok. It wasn’t even the Masters’ hanbok. It was the one they gave to disciples, somewhere between ‘new recruits’ and ‘you’re getting too old to be a disciple’. It was faded and too short in the sleeves, with a dark stain on the collar. She was still radiant. Wearing a rice sack, dirty as a peasant, she would outshine any girl in all the nations.

“Oh,” she said. She adjusted the bundles in her arms. “Hello Tobias. You nearly made me drop these.”

There was always this one moment, where she looked at him the way she used to. Then she’d take in the rest of his face, and she would look away as quickly as she could. She must think that by looking at him, she did him some great injustice.

Tobias could apologize for any number of things, but his tongue had become a withered piece of jerky. He had nearly damaged a pair of masters’ robes. He had almost bowled Amira off her feet. He was clearly shirking duty, as little unconscious Klee was held in the opposite direction.

Maybe what he wanted to say was ‘Sorry.’

‘I’m sorry I look this way.’

‘I’m sorry I’m not good enough for you anymore.’

Tobias smiled and spoke with a cheerful lilt to his voice. “Is there any way I can help you? I have a short break before I return to duty.”

“Thank you, but there is no need.”

Tobias knew that give in her shoulders, the faint twist of her lip. “Don’t think too deeply about it. You know I adore busywork.” He gave her his best smile, at least the one that had replaced it.

“If you’re certain… the infirmary has been busy, and Seol Hyeok…” Amira sighed. “I am too tired to pretend in front of you. If I tell you this, can I trust your discretion?”

“Of course.”

Anything, everything.

She worried her lip, biting hard enough to draw blood. Tobias resisted the urge to fetch a healing salve. There were more important injuries than chapped lips, and he would be yelled at for shirking his duties.

“Tobias… you can never tell anyone this. But the divine leader is allowing Yeongsan’s rations to be passed out.”

“You want me…?”

“You, in charge of supplies?” Amira scoffed, and Tobias tried not to cry. “I’m sorry, that was mean. It’s no excuse, but I really am exhausted. I don’t need you to do this. I just… had to tell someone.”

Despite that mean comment, she addressed him like an equal. Tobias wanted to hold onto the moment forever.“Thank you for trusting me,” he croaked. What a trivial response. She’d entrusted a secret that could ruin her, and he responded with that.

 “It is my place to thank you.”

Tobias scrambled for a response before she could leave.“They’ve been careful with the supplies lately. Will you… tell anyone else?”

Even after he’d left, Tani Haru was practically worshipped by the juniors. They were already starving; what difference would a few days make? And if Amira sent a message, he would cut his expedition short there and then. He would do anything to help her.

But for some reason, Tobias…

Amira smiled faintly. “I might recruit Liu Daiyu. She knows her way around the kitchen, after all. I’d rather have her there than in diplomatic meetings.”Amira was much less kind when she was tired. But stronger than Tobias’s amusement was a rush of pure relief. “Is there anything else I can help with? Those bundles look heavy.”

“No, it’s just fabric.” She looked at Tobias appraisingly, before passing him a bundle. “If you really don’t mind… it seems Seok Hyeok is getting a promotion.”

“Huh…” Tobias couldn’t wrap his head around it. Sure, the man was a real ‘hero of the common people’, blessed with the looks and modesty to match. But were those really the only requirements for entry? Weren’t there some obvious flaws to address?

“You won’t believe where the other one is going.” Amira poked the bundle aggressively. “All the way to Cheongsu Village, for Nan Seok no less. He is a traitor to the sect. And besides, what will she do if both accept? It’s an utter waste of time and effort, and she even went so far as to have them remade.”

“But Nan Seok’s old robes are still in storage.” It would be easy enough to pull them out, and the only damage would be a thin layer of dust. Surely that couldn’t justify the a use of mora.

“I stole a look at them, and these are better than a regular master’s. There are beautiful shiny runes and little crystals sewn like stars. I cannot believe Master Rhinedottir would give him the best robes. Those who are working for the sect would appreciate them far better.” Amira gave the robes another disgruntled poke. “I would try them on if she weren’t in such a bad mood lately.”

“When isn’t she?” Tobias shuddered at the thought of displeasing the divine leader. He would never dare do such a thing, but maybe Amira was thinking irrationally or simply had practice. She told him once that she often ‘borrowed’ her sister’s clothes, even before she’d actually received them.

“I should send this off before she emerges from her cave.” Amira smiled at him and left.

“You’re so selfish,” he told himself. He was wasting time. Klee might have qi deviated while he stood around. He had no right to feel sorry for himself or to expect anything from someone like Amira.

But in the back of his mind, he thought it wouldn’t be so bad if Tani Haru never returned.

A butcher couldn’t have made a cleaner cut. And like a cut of meat, the core of the cliff was pink and bleeding. It had never been exposed to the light; it had let its outer layers dull and harden as the inside stayed the same. Its insides, having melted in the rain, trickled slowly onto the water.

The waves smacked at the cliffs as if yelling, ‘Don’t bleed on us!’, but the cliff had nothing to say in return. It was just a cliff, unfeeling and made of stone. It only bled because it was cut without warning, and it could not be blamed for spewing its guts all over Teyvat. The cliff thought there would be a neat little explosion and no shaming of dead fathers. So if blame could be traced, it should go back to that person who had so rudely chopped it in half.

“Will you lay there all day, or will you put yourself to use?” Tani Haru shook and dismissed his umbrella. Rain fell off its canopy, thudding down to splash Kaeya’s face. He was unbothered, content to stare at the sky as if Tani Haru were not looming over him.

When Kaeya did not respond for a while, Tani Haru continued to stand there like a tree. “The gods would hope you have not forgotten your engagement.”

Kaeya had had his eye on a particular bottle ever since Tani Haru arrived. After he kicked a pile of its friends, they had all rolled away in separate directions. The others were cushioned by undergrowth or gently toddled back to Kaeya. This one had gone straight for the cliff. Kaeya had harboured hopes for it, but it seemed they were in vain. Kaeya sighed as it tipped over the edge.

“Some poor fisherman will have an awful day. The fish, on the other hand… I suppose they’ll be quite happy with their escape.”

“What kind of nonsense are you coming up with now? Deflection is childish, and not meant for men of your age.”

“How can I deny myself, when such a role model has appeared before me? It seems Master Mizu has made himself scarce at his sect.”

“A pig-tailed woman has asked me why you left the Knights. If she heard a sentence from your mouth, the questions would end right there and then.”

Kaeya smiled and leaned against a boulder. If one sat on it, it would be perfect for watching the sun set; as it was, Kaeya was making it filthy. A tailor would weep at the state of his clothes. The priceless fabric was soaked through and caked with mud. In a similar state was his hair, but it was not the dirt that caught Tani Haru’s attention. Subconsciously or not, he had been staring since the moment he arrived.

“Admiring the view, are you?”

Tani Haru’s eyes snapped away. “Of course not.”

Kaeya laughed breathily, the sound short and amused. “No to the ‘admiring’, or no to the ‘staring’?”

Tani Haru spoke through clenched teeth, his gaze still averted. “Neither.”

Kaeya smiled and leaned back. While this particular smile was good for provoking violence, it was to his advantage in this situation. The advantage being, to irritate Tani Haru. “I’ve heard they take things quite seriously in Inazuma. It must be hard, with rebels stirring trouble and your god on a nap. But in Mondstadt, we do just fine on our own. There’s no need to think too hard, or indeed make too much of an effort. You can straighten your hair, dye it green, or set it on fire for all anyone cares. I take no offence to staring. Whether it be the first case or the latter, it makes no difference. The matter which concerns me now is your presence here.”

Tani Haru’s eye twitched concerningly as Kaeya spoke. “I’ve told you before. I have come as a reminder.”

“But as a reminder for… what, exactly? I have my eyepatch; my belongings are secure at the sect. My reputation, my limbs, my remaining eye… everything seems in order. I wouldn’t say I need a reminder of anything.”

Kaeya took on a dreamy tone as he spoke, staring up at the sky. ‘Saviour’ indeed. This man couldn’t save himself a week of sobriety. Regardless of his values, it was a good chance to extract information and make his exit. But before he could open his mouth, Kaeya had snatched up the opportunity.

“A lesser man might come to certain conclusions. He might think there was no reminder to be made, but rather some hidden motive from our honoured Master Mizu. Of course, a lesser man would not presume to accuse a master.”

What Kaeya lacked in restraint, he made up with the talent for worming under one’s skin. “…This master would be forthright with his intentions.”

“Of course.” Kaeya bit his tongue, halting the words that had nearly slipped out. The conversation was going the wrong way. If he went any further, he would devolve past subtleties and straight into insults. “There is no need to flit around the subject. While I can guess at your intentions, there are far better subjects to interrogate, many of whom might harbour respect for a master such as yourself. I suppose the new round of disciples may be frightening, especially when one has fallen out of practice…”

If Liu Daiyu had a similar glare, she almost certainly learned it from Tani Haru. “You speak out of turn. This graceless behaviour – wasting mora, rolling around in the mud – is truly a blemish to this city. Drink poison, waste away while you run with all your strength. But no matter how far you go, you cannot outrun yourself.”

Kaeya resisted the urge to roll his eyes. For a man to see his weakness in others, no matter how unlikely the truth, was a base aspect of human nature. He had thought better of Tani Haru, but it seemed he had miscalculated. “If the matter was so important, you might have informed this lowly cultivator. You wish to know what happened on that night.”

Tani Haru nodded tersely. “The divine leader must have issued a warning. The entire sect has kept their mouths shut.”

Kaeya remembered Tani Haru had limped as he left the Hall. It was probably not a recent injury, given his normal gait at the trial and the short time between that and the banquet. He was also not the type of person to let themself be injured. He had probably gained the limp from the incident many months prior. He hid it well with concealing clothes and practiced posture, but it wasn’t enough given his level of incoherence. Speaking even further to that was the person he had left with. It seemed he’d indulged too deeply in the drinks. It was hypocritical, but it was no surprise. The so-called ‘holy city’ was rife with scum.

Kaeya could think of two motives for Tani Haru’s request. One was the identity of that other person, and the other was the disappearance of Albedo’s body. It had been swiftly recovered, with everyone involved told to keep their mouths shut. Considering the number of disciples and servants, it was inevitable that some information leaked.

Kaeya didn’t know what he had to gain from this. Eunmyeong’s economy had yet to recover, so the living costs in Ximseong were still extremely high. Tani Haru was probably low on funds, no matter how many expeditions or bounties he’d taken. Besides, Kaeya had enough mora to drink himself to death a dozen times over. If he returned to the sect, he could clean himself up before the ‘appointment’. To waste time with Tani Haru was a fruitless endeavour.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to find someone else. With the weather so gloomy, I’m certain-”

“Tell me, or I will turn you over to Liu Daiyu.”

Kaeya coughed into his fist. “I suppose she is still after me.”

“She is a stubborn woman.”

While Kaeya was well-trained in evasive manoeuvres, Liu Daiyu was difficult to shake off. She stuck to him like a vengeful tteok no matter how many times he brushed her away. She must have isolated herself even further than usual if she was so desperate for Guiying’s company. Tani Haru might have a better chance of loosening her grip on his sleeve. As well as that… it would be pretty amusing to watch the light drain from Tani Haru’s eyes.

Kaeya shook a few bottles before finding one with its contents intact. He threw back half, contemplating the bottle before offering it to Tani Haru. Maybe he would get drunk and tell off Liu Daiyu without Kaeya having to do anything.

Tani Haru gave Kaeya a scornful look. “You should savour that. The divine leader will ban alcohol again in no time.”

“If she did that, she might really have a riot on her hands.” Kaeya finished off the bottle and tossed it off the cliff. The others went along with it, like ducklings with an especially stupid mother. “I suppose all those grieving commoners needed to drown their sorrows. And after their years of ‘abstinence’, your fellow disciples were more than ready to live it up. If she wasn’t happy about that, her chunk of the profit certainly cheered her up.”

Tani Haru scowled. “There is no need to speculate.”

“Losing your temper so quickly doesn’t seem like a good sign. If you wish to know ‘everything’, you’ll have to hear ‘everything’.”

“The trial. What you did after the trial. The banquet, your whereabouts, the weeks following that night. There is no need for unnecessary details.”

“But… you were also at the trial.”

Tani Haru gave him a defeated look. “You are very similar to your cousin.”

If anything, Guiying was similar to him. But Tani Haru’s expression reminded him of his old tutors. They would always look at him with that mixture of disproval and helplessness, or shake their heads and sigh. ‘Pay attention.’ ‘Stop fidgeting.’ ‘Don’t put that in your mouth.’

Besides, it was very cold, and Kaeya didn’t want a repeat of this incident. The sooner he got it over with, the sooner he could stop talking to Tani Haru and go change his clothes.

“I’ll start at the beginning. Or at least, the middle of the trial.”

“The king has had enough of this nonsense. We will now hear Kaeya Alberich’s official testimony. His time in Ximseong, Cheongsu Shrine, and his involvement with the Chalk Prince.”

The royal guard summoned a table from his qi storage. It was a stunning show of cultivation, only further topped as he pulled out a teapot and a tray of delicacies.

A servant approached, aiming to curry favour; he was rejected with a scathing glare as the guard’s hand tightened on his hilt. He only relaxed as the servant backed away. He took the teapot, summoning a cup to fill for his king.

“Jeonhwa, the tea is hot. Please take care.”

The king took a small sip. The room watched with bated breath as his expression went flat. He set the cup down and slid it across the table. Apparently, the tea was indeed hot and had burned the king’s mouth.

The guard gave the tea a murderous glare.

Samael had recovered his seat by this time. His friends were stuck between a river and an ocean. If they looked one way, they would see Samael; if they looked the other, Eula would glare at them.

Samael was undeterred, sleazily confident in only the way an Eroch could be. He leaned closer to the curly-haired youth and whispered under his breath. A beat of silence. The youth stifled a laugh and prodded the one next to him with his elbow. Another whisper. The second youth’s eyes flicked to Eula; she frowned as Samael’s friends huddled to hear. In the span of moments, it seemed they had already made up.

A restless murmur spread throughout the crowd. Tobias had found a chair somewhere, and he now hovered by the Council’s Table as a hushed discussion broke out between him and the Inazuman Councillor. Icy stares were sent from every direction. The guard’s demand had already halted the proceedings, and now this insignificant man was making it worse. He shrank into his collar and gestured subtly towards the throne.

Sumeru’s Councillor cleared his throat and made a ‘come here’ gesture to Kaeya, pointing to the chair Tobias had brought. It was an answer to a question no one had dared to breach. While the king remained silent, one could excuse turning their back on him. But he was now an active participant, albeit by the royal guard’s voice, and Kaeya could not face the king without turning his back to the Council. Here was a solution; he could sit down with the Council, so known for their judgement that their personal identities ceased to exist. For an outsider to sit alongside them was unprecedented.

While many (quietly) voiced their complaints, others still saw this as an opportunity. A man called a ‘saviour’, who could even sit alongside the Council, was unclaimed by any god or clan. What kind of honour could someone like that bring them? It was an awkward moment, one which Kaeya was eager to escape as he slunk over to the chair.

It was carved from a deeply coloured wood, with images from Eunmyeong’s history trailing its sides. A hand reached down from the heavens to rest on a king’s head. His queen smiled as he spread blessings throughout the land. It smelled like lavender and sawdust, and a thin cushion had been placed on the seat.

Kaeya’s nerves were raw, his head hurt, and there was an awful feeling in his chest. Maybe sitting down could help him breathe. He sat down but regretted it as pain shot through his thigh. The cushion had been put over a jutting nail, and he was now stuck like a butterfly on a board. Eunmyeong must have it out for their Councillor if they’d set aside such a shoddy chair for him. Perhaps Liu Daiyu had added the nail when he failed to show.

Kaeya was on thin ice already, so he couldn’t fidget while everyone stared at him. He resolved to free himself when the attention shifted.

Natlan’s Councillor frowned at Kaeya. “According to the previous testimonies, you came in contact with a ‘shapeshifting demon’. Please present your version of the story.”

Common crooks might slip up under questioning, but he, Eula and Nan Seok were anything but. The fakest story would hold up under questioning, so what point was the council trying to make? The Council was supposed to nod along as Kaeya told his story and played a few theatrics. This threw off the plan entirely.

“It isn’t an exciting story… Nan Seok and his disciple fought a group of spirits, and they found out that a demon was supplying them. He asked us to help track it down.”

Natlan’s Councillor frowned.  “Define ‘us’.”

“Myself and Captain Eula.”

“And?”

“…And the Chalk Prince.”

“I see. The Chalk Prince; a known criminal, a demon of Cataclysmic danger. Someone to rely on while recovering missing villagers. A good chum, a lovely playmate with whom to eat at restaurants and hold hands while frolicking about.”

“Villagers were disappearing. A child had gone missing, and mutilated corpses were found in the woods. Even in a compromised state, no one in this nation knows more of demons.”

“‘Knew’, Master Kaeya,’ commented Fontaine’s Councillor. “You must admit, you showed an incredible lapse in judgement.”

A look of puzzlement flashed across Kaeya’s face. His head turned slightly towards the altar, and Natlan’s Councillor became even more disapproving. “The accounts have come together, and you cannot deny it. No demon would take on that appearance. The so-called ‘shape-shifter’ was nothing but a sham, made up to cover his crimes. You let yourselves be taken in by his lies. You let him walk free, and in doing so, became an accomplice to his sins. Acknowledge your crimes, and you may receive a lighter sentence.”

At some point, Kaeya had retrieved his coin. He stared blankly at it as it twisted between his fingers. The nail burned hot in his leg.

“Show some respect, young man,” warned Sumeru’s Councillor. “Natlan’s Councillor has addressed you by name.”Eula quickly stood. “Nan Seok and I were equally involved.”

Nan Seok’s expression said, ‘Speak for yourself’.

“The blame should not fall solely on one person. With the information on hand, we came to the mutual agreement that we should wait a month before taking action.”

Natlan’s Councillor laughed out loud before her frown quickly reasserted herself. “You failed to retrieve the girl. The little girl and the labourer were killed, and the Chalk Prince was able to unseal a Cataclysm. Cultivators must be strong and wise, and above all else, they must protect the common people. All three of you fell short, failing to realize your actions do not exist in their own world. For the first time in history, the demon lords have put up a united front. We have been at war. Our way of life has always been tenuous, and returning to even that fragile state has taken all our efforts. You threatened our lives, you disrespected us all as you allowed this monster to go free. You have endangered not only Cheongsu Village but the eight nations of Teyvat. All involved deserve the harshest degree of punishment.”

However they felt about Kaeya, those watching were thrilled by this sudden development. The man was still sitting at the Council’s Table! Wasn’t this the same as the Council turning on their own? After his emotionally charged accusations, Kaeya was now on the defensive, and his avoidance of eye contact was as incriminating as anything else.

It was unclear if he was listening at all, still fiddling with that piece of mora; by the look of things, Natlan and Inazuma’s Councillors were on the verge of reaching over and flinging it away. The Snezhnayan Councillor was expressionless, the Sumerian intrigued, the Fontainian shaking his head helplessly. Yet with Liyue and Mondstadt’s Councillors, they looked almost…

“The Council understands,” said Mondstadt’s Councillor. Her tone matched her expression, and she looked at Kaeya as if he was her son. Yet, a mother would find it difficult to match that look with her offspring. There was warmth, the sense of ‘you are one of mine’; yet there was also a feeling of superiority. ‘I have a god, and I am more beloved than you.’ ‘Lost child, you are below me, and I pity you for it.’

The Liyueren Councillor sighed. “There is no need to look so guilty, Master Kaeya. Natlan’s Councillor presents concerns we have considered. But given the evidence, we cannot in good conscience blame the three of you."

Inazuma’s Councillor spoke with conviction. “The Chalk Prince was given great power as the second-in-command. Rather than use it for good, he continued to abuse it. Frivolous use of mora, lack of responsibility, failure to fulfil proper duties. Whatever he was, he never cared for anyone but himself. If that weren’t enough, he exhibited deplorable qualities such as abuse of power, uncontrolled lust, and sexual deviancy, victimizing many unnamed persons as well as a disciple from this very sect.”

Fontaine’s Councillor nodded earnestly as he summoned a small pouch. The smell of lavender and dust rose in the air as he shook it out. It was a fine powder, glinting gray and violet in the light. Small chunks of herb could be seen within. “While the Chalk Prince’s quarters were sealed off for safety, the divine leader graciously re-opened them for investigation. The powder you see here was found in Ximseong and at Cheongsu Mountain’s shrine.”

Someone spoke up from the crowd. While their reverence towards the Council had kept them silent, the cultivators were growing restless.

“I thought this was about Master Kaeya! What does a random bag of dust have to do with anything?”

Fontaine’s Councillor looked to the Fatui, raising his brows. Questions began to be shouted, but they quickly petered out as Childe forced a smile.

“Patience, comrades. My subordinate here can answer all your questions.”

Aitana stood abruptly and began to speak. Her expression was blank and harsh, but none of her malicious intent could be sensed. If anything, she was bored.

“After I joined the Fatui, I began to develop a personal project. I was finding a way to extract and isolate components from herbs. With this technology, the potency of healing extracts would improve. However, as progression is often a double-edged sword, my research was stolen by a former comrade. He used it to develop a new drug called linalool.”

She stood and walked to the Council’s table, taking a pinch of the dust. Her speech lost some of its jerkiness, smoothing into a rhythm as she continued. “Linalool’s liquid form is more common, but it can be dried and ground into powder. It is sold on the black market and used by kidnappers or con artists. A pinch like this will cause confusion and a sedative effect. With larger amounts or repeated dosings, the effects worsen in severity. The victims suffer symptoms like nausea, blurred vision, and restricted breathing. Their minds are most heavily affected. They become disoriented and easily malleable. The perpetrator can put himself in a position of power, becoming able to exert full control over his victims.”

Fontaine’s Councillor met her gaze evenly. “For posterity, please either accept or deny responsibility for the drug’s existence.”

“The Fatui are not implicated in any way. Once my superiors became aware of linalool’s emergence, any involved were tracked down and severely punished. The Fatui will take any measure to root it out. Although my role in its development was unwilling, I cannot deny my responsibility to tamp it out. I will continue to put forth my best efforts in developing a cure.”

She summoned a long needle, as well as two tiny ceramic pots. She set one down, adding a pinch of powder and mixing it in. She strode to stand before Kaeya. “Your hand, please.” Not waiting for an answer, she snatched his wrist and thrust the needle into the pad of his finger. Kaeya was frozen in place. Crimson swelled from the wound, and Aitana flicked it expertly, transferring it to the pot.

The Councillors leaned in to look as Aitana presented the results. Fontaine’s Councillor announced to the crowd, “The mixtures were originally colourless. While the mixture with blood is slightly darker, both have turned a dark purple.”

Aitana nodded. “These mixtures detect the presence of linalool. Master Kaeya has not been drugged since his return to Ximseong, ruling out any ‘one-time’ doses. This leaves long-term dosing as the only answer.” She turned again to the powder. “While there is a distinct scent of lavender, it can be easily ingested. Many dishes allow linalool to be dissolved and incorporated. Strong drinks like tonics and herbal liquors disguise the taste. But adding heat for absorption, as well as masking the taste, would be options like teas and medical soups.”

“You may return to your seat, Ms. Azzi.”

Aitana nodded stiffly, gathering her things as Sumeru’s Councillor smiled sympathetically. “I imagine this must be a great shock, Master Kaeya. As Ms. Azzi has explained, linalool leaves the victims in a mental fog. It is easy to lose sight of reality, especially with a concurring qi deviation. Captain Eula told us of the Chalk Prince’s ‘qi treatments. No one blames you for letting your guard down. How many cultivators in this room have done the same? He had access to teas, soups, pastries; maybe even that ‘fish dinner’ the juniors like to talk about. In the end -”

“No,” said Kaeya. The objection was rude and abrupt. The room went dead silent, swivelling like cranes to stare at him. “I never tried that dish, and I won’t stand by while you pin this on him.”

The Councillors exchanged looks. “Master Kaeya, please calm yourself.”

“He threw it out the window! I never took a bite of that stupid, godsforsaken dinner.” He laughed out loud as his demeanour suddenly changed. His voice became sharp and accusatory. “I know what this is. You say it’s about him, but I know what’s going to happen. Suddenly, I’ll be the scapegoat again. It’s my fault father died, it’s my fault Albedo lost his mind, it’s even my fault Alice went missing. Just because I look different, just because… I… no, I didn’t… no matter what you say, I didn’t…! You can’t pin it on me!” He clutched his head. “It’s not my fault! They left me! Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

The Inazuman Councillor gave him a sidelong look. “It was merely speculation. Whatever the means, the drug has been found in your blood.”

Sumeru’s Councillor nodded in agreement. “Ms. Kapoor is also suspected to be a victim of linalool. The Chalk Prince had ample motive and opportunity, and her disappearance speaks to the trauma she has endured. Ms. Kapoor would have received regular doses during her time at the sect. As it wore off during his incarceration, her behaviour became erratic. She could not recognize her abuser for what he was; as members of cults often are, she was conditioned into both loving and defending him. She has since disappeared from public view. Ms. Kapoor is welcome to recuperate on her own, but she will receive support in any nation. Her disappearance is not an admission of guilt to the previous accusations against her.”

The Shezhnayan Councillor took over. Her voice was quiet but strong, becoming louder as she spoke. “The rumours regarding the Chalk Prince and former master Tani Haru speak to his sexual deviancy.”

Tani Haru scowled, and she clarified, “The Chalk Prince’s sexual deviancy. He referred to Master Haru as his ‘husband’. And at Cheongsu Shrine, he repeatedly showed interest of a sexual nature in Master Kaeya.”

The audience was about to explode. This was the darling of the heavens they were talking about! It was crazy, it was filthy, it was absolutely thrilling!

“- knew he was crazy, but he’s also…?”

“- he clearly loved that girl; I mean come on-” 

“- when you look like he does, there’s definitely something -”

Mondstadt’s Councillor loudly cleared her throat. The cultivators settled down, buzzing for more news. As she continued, it became clear that the narrative was not from one Councillor. It had been compiled from reports and evidence, then rehearsed by the Council as a whole. “This child and his cousin share many similarities. Their mannerisms, their style of dress, and of course, their appearances. Demon or not, it harboured a twisted love for that girl. It saw this child and felt a loneliness in its heart. This city was lost to it. It was all alone in the world, and it sought out this child for the same dark purpose.” She gave Kaeya a pitying look. “After your trial in Mondstadt, you have been subject to another much the same. Those wounds run deep. You have the Church’s full support while you heal, and we will all pray that you find peace in our god.”

The mood took a physical dip as the Liyueren Councillor began to speak. His expression had taken a new degree of stoniness, and the crowd felt as if they’d somehow disappointed him. “The Council is an establishment of truth and justice. We do not allow theory or political claims to affect our rulings. But in this case, there was a suspicion that demanded further investigation.”

A hint of emotion made its way onto his face. He looked almost nauseous, like he’d inhaled some linalool. But he also looked angry. Not the anger of ‘good heavens, a scoundrel has spit on my robes and run away’. It was an anger of deep injustice, aimed not only at the perpetrator but the circumstances around the crime. It was an anger that said, ‘This terrible thing happened, and you should have stopped it’.

“Klee Neuauflage was tested for linalool, and the result came back positive.”

There was a beat of utter confusion as people leaned in to whisper to each other. They didn’t dare break the silence, but they weren’t sure what he meant. ‘Positive’ as in ‘a good result’, or ‘positive’ as in..?

Samael spoke eagerly, happy to have the attention on another. “He was fucking that little girl.”

It was like someone had thrown a mountain of snow over the Hall. While the accusations of homosexuality were gossipworthy, this was something else altogether. The Council sat still as they allowed the message to sink in.

Only Kaeya had something to say. He laughed out loud, and the entire hall jolted away at its maniacal nature. “I know what this is. That bitch started this whole thing! She made him crazy, fucked up his head until he couldn’t tell what’s real anymore. And now you’re all helping her cover it up. No matter what you say, I won’t fall for it! I’ll make sure–!”

It was impossible to keep silent any longer. Kaeya was drowned out by protests, and the entire Council swivelled to glare at him. It was clear who ‘that bitch’ was as Kaeya was staring directly at her. The divine leader had no reaction, although those in her sect were certainly upset. Liu Daiyu leapt from her chair before Amira and Tani Haru wrestled her back. Their hands met by accident, and they exchanged awkward glances as they broke apart.

Snezhnaya’s Councillor glared at Kaeya. “The Council understands your confusion. It has been a difficult month, and you are sick and tired. You do not wish to think of your ‘little sister’s’ suffering. But you may not insult the gods. And you may not deny what is so clear to the rest of the world.”

All eyes were on Kaeya. Some were sympathetic, some apathetic; others looked at him with mild disgust. He felt small and alone, and no one was on his side. Just like that night, with the moon shining coldly, and his father’s blood on his hands. He stared down at them, still clutching his coin.

There had been white threads stuck in his palm. Someone had drawn them out; healed the wound so perfectly it looked like nothing happened. He’d sat there in silence, and gripped a scrap of white fabric in his hand. It was almost poetic. With how tightly he held it, it might as well return to his veins.

Kaeya washed his hands in the ocean, scrubbing and scraping until he thought the wound would burst open. It might be better, he might as well bleed while the waves raged and salt dripped into his mouth. His vision was blurred. But even through the haze, he could see it. He scrubbed until blood coursed from his fingers. He walked further until the waves nearly closed over his head. Tani Haru had to drag him out, ordering the twins to keep him on shore. Kaeya took a handful of sand and scrubbed until it ran red.

Kaeya looked down, his covered eye cursed, his free one blind. His head hurt. Gods, they were so loud; they were screaming and wailing and batting at his thoughts. It was all for nothing. Samael was smiling, eyes were stabbing him, and hands were taking him apart. It was all for nothing. It was all his fault, it was…

But what, exactly…?

Kaeya stared at the gold substance that had dried under his nails. But no matter how hard he thought, he did not know why he’d been so upset.

“…ter Kaeya? Master Kaeya, are you listening?”

Kaeya looked up and met the Sumerian Councillor’s gaze. ‘He looks a bit like father,’ he thought, almost laughing again. ‘Only, father is dead. Ha ha. Dead father. Dead father times two.’

”Your life must have been very difficult. Although Mondstadt is an isolated country, blocked in as it is with mountains, the possibility of such discrimination never occurred to us. We will have to consider this issue more deeply. But for the moment, there is a more pressing matter. I am sure you have realized that your testimony concerns the Chalk Prince, rather than your past in Mondstadt. You have spent a month in close quarters with him. With Ms. Kapoor missing, and Ms. Neuauflage too young to question, you are perhaps the sole person to have seen his true colours.”

He folded his hands together, giving Kaeya an encouraging look. The air was unbelievably tense. Whether explicit or not, it was understood that the whole trial boiled down to this question. When it came, it was deceptively simple, the phrasing doing little to indicate its importance.

“Was he capable of these crimes?”

It was the same as asking, ‘Did he commit these crimes?’ It was clear what an answer would signify. Each detail had been examined and laid out for judgment; they had their story, and they were only asking Kaeya for a stamp of approval.

Kaeya could not tell if his thoughts were his own. Something had carved a hole in his skull and made a space for itself. The voices bounced back and forth in a relentless rhythm.

Is he guilty? Is he guilty? Is he guilty?

The malicious edge returned to Aitana’s voice. “If I had not witnessed your earlier… remarks… I might believe you’d lost your voice. Have you nothing to say?”

Liar, liar, liar, liar it was you, you did that you liar you curse you sinner you’re just as bad as them you liar you deserved it

“The villagers had quite the stories about your time together. They believed you two were a couple. And what they said of your reciprocation…”

they were right to use you you liar you liar you choked him hurt him made him cry ‘don’t want to see your face’ what a joke you wanted him you were going to fuck him

“I’m not like that,” said Kaeya, feeling those brown eyes burn into his skin. “I’m normal.” He repeated those words, pretending he believed them as he begged the voices to quiet. “I was only a child, and I made a mistake. That doesn’t define who I am. Master Crepus raised me as his son, and I would never tarnish his name by going on that path. It’s… unnatural. A man should only love a woman. And I could never want someone like Albedo.”

you fucked up piece of shit you don’t want him your ass you wanted him and you hurt him for it you broke him you saw that look on his face you told him the things they said well do you feel better do you feel good about what you’ve done you liar you liar you liar

“The villagers were quite convinced, Master Kaeya. If not for the linalool… anyone here might presume they had truth to them.”

fuck fuck fuck no no no no not again not again not again I can’t do this again I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t you liar you liar you liar you liar no no no it’s not my fault it was HIM it was him it’s his fault I’m like this it’s his fault it’s not my fault I don’t want him no no no I’d never braid his stupid hair or hold his hand or watch him laugh no it’s done it’s over can’t do it not ever again can’t touch him can’t make him smile won’t ever SEE him smile fuck fuck he’s not here where is he no shut up shut up shut up don’t care don’t care don’t look don’t look don’t look I hate him that fucking liar I hate him I hate him he said he’d stay but he lied how could he just like everyone else you’re so stupid you’re a fucking idiot how could someone love you of course he lied - of course he - no he wouldn’t leave he promised he promised not again no no please it’s him he’s the liar I hate him I hate him it’s not my fault please gods no it can’t be my fault again

“Child? Child, are you alright?” Mondstadt’s Councillor beckoned to a healer. “Check the child. His qi is deviating before our eyes.”

that liar that liar that fucking liar I should have slit his fucking throat just a liar just a filthy sinner a traitor a placeless freak pale disgusting eyes deserves to suffer deserves to rot like me the fucking liar the filthy fucking liar we loathe him hate him despise that hair that blood that fucking god burn in hell you filthy bitch come down and burn with us

Kaeya shook his head, and the world went silent.

“That sounds like something he’d do.”