01 : specter.

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"You ever bathe yourself in water so cold, your body starts to burn?"

You barely heard the question over the fine melody of the harpsichord up front. A curious look hovered over your face as you delivered Kaeya's drink to the corner table he'd claimed for himself. It wasn't like the Captain to dish out strange questions so early in the evening.

"Did you have too much to drink again?" you teased, tucking the tray you'd brought beneath your arm. "I know you're a connoisseur and all, but Dead After Noon will make you dead after noon."

Kaeya stifled a laugh behind the rim of his wine glass, the sparkling liquid sloshing with the movement. It's quite odd, seeing a top brass Ordo Favonius hanging around in Angel's Share, but any Mondstadt local knew how the Cavalry Captain adored his liquor. And as one of the frontlining bartenders, you'd borne witness to several of his nightly ventures—most of which dutifully masked his intent to harvest intel from a few loose-lipped drunks.

Which, to your surprise, he had opted to skip for the night.

"You, of all people, should know that it takes much more than this to put me out of commission," he pointed out, sipping his coveted drink with a smirk. "I'm just trying to strike up a conversation with my favorite barkeep is all."

"Favorite?" you echoed. "Charles is going to be very sad if he hears that."

"It's a good thing the missus is in labor tonight then, eh?" Kaeya winked with his one good eye. "It can't be helped, You've memorized my taste in dandelion mixes down to the last drop."

You spared him a lopsided smile. "Happy to serve, Captain."

Angel's Share was particularly busy whenever Fridays rolled around. After all, it was the end of the week. Workers received their due wages, members of the Ordo were given time to relax, and you had all the free-flowing kegs awaiting their patronage. At first, the sound of men singing shanties about long lost loves and bards with too many tales to tell had overwhelmed you. Not even the Dawn Winery's auspicious gatherings had been this rowdy. But the more time you spent in the city of freedom, the more you'd learned to love it.

"Aye, barkeep! Play a couple songs for us, will ya?"

You were in the middle of a lighthearted conversation with your colleague, Mags, who helped bus the many tables scattered across the tavern. Her lips twisted into a grin. "Go on. Pretty sure they'd gotten tonight's bard drunk out of his wits already."

Smoothing out the creases on your apron, you sighed—turning to the patron that invited you to sit by the harpsichord. Denver. He was one of Charles' closest friends, and his favorite melody was the Inazuman ballad about whiskey.

"You know asking me to play gets you charged extra, right?" You winked, easing yourself onto the plush seat tucked behind the instrument.

Denver snorted, raising his mug as if initiating a toast. "Just put it on my tab like usual, girlie. Ya know that bastard Charles trusts me to pay my dues."

"Never questioned it."

As your fingers glided across the sticky keys (courtesy of the bard lying passed out in the corner), your audience accompanied the music with their own voices. You didn't even have to remember the words to the song. Everyone knew that Mondstadt's liquor does wonders to a person's linguistic skill, and tonight's drunken crowd slurred the lyrics as if they were born natives. But, as you recalled the notes to your next song, your gaze coincidentally landed on Kaeya.

The Captain was still hunched over in his table, nursing what seemed to be a glass of bourbon this time. And, despite being at the other end of the tavern, you could still see the way the chandelier glimmered overhead—casting a soft orange glow across his midnight blue hair. Kaeya's one lilac eye gazed from afar; scrutinizing as if you were the subject of his next crime scene. You frowned.

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