#devctiion

It was a normal day on the Dawn Winery property, Kaeya - who was a few months shy of becoming 14 years old - was training with his favorite people in swordsmanship with Crepus and Diluc! It was days like these that made Kaeya proud to be a Ragnvindr as both he and Diluc were honing their skills to one day become a Captain of the Knights of Favonious.

All three Ragnvindr’s were currently sword wielders but this training session was different as Kaeya was wielding a new sword - a rapier specifically - and needed some practice with said new weapon as it gave Kaeya a little more freedom to be ‘fancy’ with his footwork compared to his brother. “Come now brother ~ Do I look like the type to use technique’s that the rest of the Knights use? We were told to always wield our weapons in ways that are both comfortable yet practical... that is exactly what I’m doing ~ right father?” the adopted son smiled up at his father as Crepus chuckled lightly with a slight nod.

Absolutely mortifying.

Of course, Jean had heard the swirl of rumors, whispers on the wind, that Master Diluc Ragnvindr recently returned home after three long, painstaking years. Three years without a single letter home or the tiniest breadth of a hint as to whether or not the man still lived. And with the gossiping chatter of Mondstadt’s free-spirited townspeople came all at once an overwhelming sense of relief — before nosediving into absolute dread.

With the tea set provided by the Inn, Zhongli pours two cups of tea with a steady hand. One for him, one for Xiao.

"I have heard tale of your exploits recently," he says evenly as he works. "You've been working hard as always, but I can only hope you remember to rest as well. Perhaps you could indulge an old man for a little while?" It's framed as a request, but they both know it isn't truly one.

To say he was surprised to see his lord would be an understatement. Even more so that he would come specifically to find him and invite him to tea! Invite.. Not that he would have outright rejected if it were an actual invite, but it sure didn’t feel like one.

“You have... heard? I pray that what you’ve come to hear pleases you.” Not that he wasn’t sure he’d done his duty flawlessly, but he would prefer it if he were praised rather than scorned.

It had been a long day, not exceptionally longer than most, but long enough for him to want to grab a drink after he finished work. However, he wasn’t really looking for what Liyue had to offer so, he made his way to Mondstadt. After all, he did need to check in on Viktor and Pavel so, why not kill two birds with one stone?

He checked in with Pavel on his way to Mondstadt, having a brief chat with him before continuing on his way. Once he had arrived it was decently late so he decided to stop into Angel’s Share, making plans to stay the night inside the city before he stopped by to visit Viktor at the cathedral.

Collei is not the girl she used to be. The girl who once wanted nothing to do with anybody, who thought the whole world was out to get her. She's come a long, long way since then, each step its own struggle. Where she once would have abhorred the very notion of meeting new people, she now welcomes the opportunity.

This... Wanderer, as he called himself, is a bit eccentric. She's gathered that he doesn't like to talk much. Or... maybe Collei hasn't figured out the right topic to discuss with him. But she's trying! He's sort of answered her questions so far, but Collei doesn't really feel like they're really substantial at all. Quickly losing confidence, Collei's resigned herself to quietly leading them through the forest for now until she musters up the courage to speak again.

Her new companion trails silently behind her- not too far, but not that close either. Maybe he's just taking in the scenery? His hat reminds her of a lotus... if he liked nature, that would make sense. The Avidya Forest is especially vibrant now that the Withering zones can be dealt with once and for all.

Collei breathes a sigh of relief. The air feels so clean now, the sunlight warm and bright. Maybe one day she'll get to live in a world where the Withering doesn't exist. Wouldn't that be something incredible?

Even if one day all of that corruption is cleared, the Forest Watchers will still have plenty to do.

Master Tighnari will be happy to know that she's managing to do twice- no, three times as much as she was able to before! Surely. Maybe he'll scold her about pushing herself, but it's only natural to want to pick up the slack now that he's confined to bedrest for the time being.

Al Haitham,

It would figure you wouldn't show your face even around your own birthday! If I hadn't gleaned the day for myself, I would have thought you had never been born at all and were already fully formed since your conception as the most infuriating man alive.

I swore I wrote this date on my calendar somewhere, but I must have... accidentally burned that one between then and now, because there was no note to remind myself. And you sure didn't see fit to remind anyone yourself! I only even remembered by complete happenstance, so sorry if the end product is a little rushed, so you should feel grateful you're getting a gift from me at all at this rate.

Anyways... Happy birthday. This is for you. I hope you find this useful. Pick up your damn books for once______

The letter is hastily scrawled, Kaveh's handwriting only degenerating the longer it goes on, with certain phrases scratched out poorly, leaving them somewhat still legible to anyone whose vision isn't blurring from a two day engineering bender. The ink must not have even been dried yet when he fell asleep, because there's a long streak trailing off the last word, leading all the way to the quill resting in his limp grip.

Beside him is the gift he didn't have the opportunity to wrap yet: A book cart, but an unsurprisingly ornate one, considering Kaveh's predisposition for the aesthetic. It doesn't even have anything so mundane as wheels. That would be too primitive. No, this book cart is a Kshahrewar project, and so it floats just so above the ground, unimpeded by any potential obstacles on the floor and perfectly balanced to right itself if shoved one way or the other.

One can always trust the Great Kaveh to over-engineer the solution to even the smallest of problems.

Birthdays aren’t anything special to the Acting Grand Sage. Haitham comes home to find a suspiciously quiet house and decides to investigate, scouring each of the rooms for any sign of life. Presumably his roommate is in his own quarters, but Haitham thought he might at least like to know that there was some extra baklava from the batch that had been gifted to him.

Although, based on the quantity alone, it’s clear enough to the scribe that this was always intended to be a shared dish.

He supposes he’ll have to have Kaveh thank the Traveler later in his stead.

It’s only decent practice to knock, but Haitham pauses at the door when he sees that it’s slightly ajar already.

“Kaveh?” He calls out before pushing it open. Light spills into the hallway and he finds the architect slumped over his desk, a plush cheek resting against his own arm. It’s not unusual to find Kaveh asleep in this kind of position. It’d be far from the first time, at least.

Haitham walks over to at least turn off the lamp beside him when he spots the unfinished letter tucked underneath Kaveh’s arm. Immediately, he identifies his name scrawled onto the top and goes to carefully extract it.

Kaveh’s always been a heavy sleeper once he actually went to sleep. Haitham doesn’t react even as the blonde snuffles and shifts a bit. Instead, he focuses and perusing the contents of the letter. Honestly, it’s good that he has a lifetime of linguistic study and is familiar with Kaveh’s sleep-deprived chicken scratch, otherwise this would be completely illegible.

Once he finishes reading it, he looks over to the floating contraption beside the desk. Curiously he goes to push it, then presses his hand onto it to see how it tilts and re-aligns itself with its own center of gravity.

Haitham pockets the letter and then proceeds to cap Kaveh’s opened inkpot. He clicks his tongue in distaste and makes a note to get the man a new one, now that this one has dried out. He then plucks the quill from his roommate’s loose grip, setting it onto the desk properly before carefully treading over the clutter on the floor to grab the blanket on Kaveh’s bed. It’s draped over the exhausted man’s shoulders with careful deliberation. The scribe also does his roommate the favor of removing the remaining barrettes clinging on for dear life in that nest of hair.

Finally, he turns off the lamp, and after bringing his gift out from the room, he shuts the door with a soft click.

In the morning, Kaveh will find Haitham asleep in the living room with his birthday present beside him.

...Atop it is a plate full of baklava crumbs and an empty tea cup.

“What you do in your spare time with the Zubayr Theater troupe is none of my personal concern.” Alhaitham says, not looking up from his book whatsoever. “If the Sages have yet to take notice of it, then I see no reason that I should find myself writing an ordinance on their behalf.”