paradoxical | genshin impact

12 : break.

"Don't you think it's a little too early to slip away?"

Had it been any other person, Diluc would have chosen to ignore them and continued with his trek out of the Winery. Maybe it was some sense of obligation to treat his elders respectfully (leftover devotion from pleasing his father, perhaps?), but the moment he heard Celia's voice, the redhead sighed—turning to the older woman with a splintered look.

"Don't you think it's a little too early to be awake?" he deadpanned.

Diluc watched the way her mouth twitched as she crossed her arms. The lights inside her house were dimmed, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that Celia had let him fall for the ruse on purpose. "No, I think I'm just in time to see my employer on his way to the edge of the universe. Pray tell, what monsters are you planning to slay before the dawn even breaks?"

"...That's none of your concern."

Celia's smile grew twofold before leaning against the wall behind her. For someone who masqueraded herself as a humble old vigneron, she could still be shrewd if she so wished. It's in moments like this that made Diluc wonder how the rest of the Winery's staff hadn't caught on to this person's true nature yet. How they managed to uncover his little secret, but not the skeletons that Celia kept lock shut in a dusty closet. He was sure that you yourself weren't even aware of your mother's origins, but he didn't fault you for it.

Though, the moment you'd crossed the threshold of his mind, Diluc felt something stir in his chest—the broken necklace weighing heavier in his pocket at the same time.

"Word's gotten around that Varka and his caravan weren't the only ones wreaking havoc up in Dragonspine," she sighed, holding his crimson-eyed gaze. "So you are planning to aid the Knights of Favonius, after all."

He didn't know where she'd learned of his backdoor activities, nor did he know why Celia spoke as if she'd heard his conversation with the Grand Master firsthand. Still, Diluc wasn't about to divulge any details. This cross was his to bear, and he wasn't going to subject anyone else into shouldering a burden whose weight he could carry alone.

"Still won't budge, will you? Just as stubborn as Crepus, I'd say." The resignation in Celia's voice would have relieved him, had she not spoken her next few words. "Very well. How about I ask you something else? Care to explain why little Noah came running to me in the middle of the night with the news that she'd left for the city?"

Diluc didn't even have the heart to feign ignorance.

"Grand Master Varka told her she was a distraction to me," he mumbled, flexing the joints around his wrists out of habit. "I simply agreed when faced with the truth."

A minute passed by in silence, then two, until Celia shook her head as if she was dealing with a problem child. She laughed, in spite of the serious tone that had accompanied his words. "Good grief," the woman simpered, eyes alight with amusement that Diluc wasn't happy to see. "All that trouble you go through to save the world, yet you never learned to consider how those who live in that world even feel."

The redhead frowned, not quite getting what she was on about until the gears in his mind began to turn.

How can I learn more about the world when you won't even let me be part of yours?

"I don't know why you're still using that abomination." Celia gestured vaguely to the sinister, blood-red orb fitted into a gauntlet he'd only ever used sparingly. "But a piece of advice, it costs nothing to rely on others, garçon stupide. Weren't you the one who said that ordinary people like your father were the reason Mondstadt continues to thrive?"