It had been a long journey throughout Nod Krai, and after the long battles, long treks through its hellish landscape, he finally made it back home, back to Mondstadt. There was a festival, many of his people, and familiar faces that he had missed.

But there had been a missing thing, a missing piece that left him just as empty as the jugs of wine he had left empty with his group of knights.

Here he was, sitting in his office, it was dark save for the dim candle that had been melting over. He was filling out paperwork, sorting through his desk and shelves. Fixing things back into place, finding old memories. Memories that either would break him or keep him strong.

He sat in silence, looking at a picture frame that had long been forgotten. It was of a young woman and a little girl. Turned out there were long gone- supposed dead. It was heartbreaking, knowing he hadn't heard about this unfortunate set of news until he had been long out of Nod Krai 12 years ago.

Varka sighed deeply and ran a gloved hand over his face. He was too drunk- no, not even drunk, just drained to handle more of this feeling. It clawed at him to remember how much he had failed those two.

He glanced up when he heard a knock at his door. With the clearing of his throat, he sat up straight, turned the photo down, and looked more like the acting Grandmaster that he is.

"Who is it?"