Faded Harmony

Of Bombs and Ghosts

Lyra awoke in the middle of the night, to a nagging feeling of uneasiness. She wondered why, for no nightmares had plagued her rest recently. Throwing her feet over the side of the bed, she stumbled slightly as she got up, only to realize there was a light in the room which was not from the lantern outside. Turning around, she stared until something came into focus. Something who was a person, if only slightly transparent.

"Ghost?" she asked casually, shaking her sleepiness away. Ghosts were left as an imprint on Teyvat. They were those who had something lingering in the world, something important, and sometimes, something they could not even remember.

This ghost seemed old—an adult, you could say. His red hair remained transparent, but it seemed to be a shade that was eerily similar to someone else's—someone she knew. He tilted his head, and she watched as he gestured to her, before walking through the wall to outside. Lyra sprinted out of her house, following the ghostly figure down the quiet streets.

"What's your name?" she asked, deciding to try talking to him.

He hesitated, before shaking his head. "I don't remember." Something told Lyra he was lying, but she decided not to accuse him of such heinous crimes so early into the conversation. They crossed a lantern, the light creating a pool at its feet. Lyra had a fleeting memory of Kaeya telling a child that the imprisoned soul of a firefly was trapped in the lanterns. And this was why the sisters of the Cathedral didn't trust him with children, but she'd heard Kaeya was a favorite of Klee's.

"May I call you Sir Ghost?"

"You may call me whatever you wish," he said, as they walked out of the gates. Neither of the knights seemed to notice them as they crossed the bridge. How you ignored a ghost that was glowing in the night was beyond Lyra's ability to comprehend.

"Where are we going?" she asked, as a night wind blew and dandelion seeds floated in the air. Seelies had begun to gather, a single spark here and there.

"There is a child in need of assistance. You are the first person I thought to come to."

"Why?"

"Because you would follow without question. Not many are as naïve as you."

Lyra winced, pretty sure he wasn't complimenting her. Heading down the path, Sir Ghost picked up speed as Lyra struggled to match his pace.

"There," he said, pointing down the ledge. Lyra peered down to see Klee surrounded by hilichurls. Alarmed, she stepped forward immediately to help, when an explosion sent the very ground below their feet quaking.

"I don't think she needs help," said Lyra, stepping back and watching in awe.

"Perhaps not," said Sir Ghost as the hilichurls turned tail and ran. "But many would question the wisdom of throwing bombs so close to a winery."

"Winery?" Lyra followed his gaze to a house a little away, surrounded by fences with grapes growing in rows. "I wonder if it's Diluc's."

The ghost's expression softened by a fraction, and Lyra thought she had imagined it. She hopped down the ledge as Klee rubbed her knee. "Klee."

"Villain!" said Klee with a rather strange enthusiasm. Normally, such joy would not be accompanied with that word. Sir Ghost raised his eyebrow as Klee turned her attention to him. "And ghost."

"You're hurt," observed Lyra, seeing bloodstains from a wound on Klee's knee. Klee nodded. "What are you doing here?"

"I was searching for brother Albedo."

"In the middle of the night?"

Klee handed her a paper, and Sir Ghost peered over her shoulder to read with her. Most of it was made of their own language, but some of it was a familiar scribbled code.

"Klee, where did you get this? This is from the Abyss Order!"

"It says it's from Albedo. It's even his messy handwriting!"

"Handwriting can easily be copied, little one," Lyra said, as she leaned down and held out her hands. Klee walked closer and Lyra picked her up, the way her own adoptive grandparents once did. "Come on, let's see if Diluc is home."

Diluc had taken the night shift at Angel's Share often lately, so Lyra was skeptical as to whether he'd be home, but nevertheless, they'd definitely find help there. After all, who would turn away an injured child? Walking over to the Winery, she turned back to see Sir Ghost with a bittersweet smile on his face. He nodded and disappeared.

Lyra and Klee shared a look, before Lyra crossed the rest of the distance and knocked on the door. Klee started humming, and Lyra fought against the urge to join her.

"It's two in the morning," said Diluc as he threw the doors opened. His hair was even more messy than usual, and his usual black coat was missing, revealing a white shirt instead. Looking at Lyra smiling, he blinked. "Lyra and Klee?" Diluc's eyes widened as he saw Klee's leg, and he ushered them both in, closing the door behind them.

"It's the weird grown-up."

"Why's he weird?"

"He just is."

Lyra gave her a withering glance before settling on the couch with Klee on her lap. A maid stalked over with bandages and patched Klee up, Diluc watching with his arms crossed as he leaned against the wall. "Care to explain?"

"Klee was blowing up some hilichurls nearby," Lyra summarized.

"So that was the explosion I was hearing." Diluc straightened as the maid walked away. "And what are you doing here?"

"A ghost told me to do something before she blew up your winery." Diluc raised an eyebrow and Lyra shrugged. Klee leaned back against her, and Lyra was surprised to see that she had fallen asleep. "She usually has a lot of energy to spare."

Diluc sighed, and spoke to a maid in a hushed voice, and she whispered to another maid. The two of them took off in different directions—one upstairs and the other outside. Lyra took a closer look around, her eyes settling on a vase that looked awfully similar to Kaeya, and something told her it wasn't an object that Diluc had bought.

Diluc lifted Klee, who didn't stir at all, and nodded to Lyra. She followed a pace behind him as he took them to a room, settling Klee on the bed. "I've asked Kaeya to come pick her up in the morning."

"Why Kaeya?"

"He's Klee's guardian along with Jean." Lyra tilted her head, and he continued. "Klee is a Knight of Favonius."

"She can't be older than sev—" Lyra yawned and Diluc looked amused.

"Follow me," he said, walking out of the room, his footsteps making absolutely no sound on the polished floor. He took her to another room, which was rather clean, books arranged neatly on the shelf, and a bed tucked into the side of the room. "This one's mine. Go ahead and sleep."

"And what about you?" asked Lyra, too weary to argue.

He shrugged and pushed her into the bed, Lyra falling asleep the moment her head hit the pillow. "Good night."

Pulling the blankets over her, he closed the curtain and bathed the room in darkness, before heading out, the door falling shut silently behind him.

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