Chapter Text
Prologue
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—
The Knights of Favonius headquarters is centuries old, and like most old buildings, its walls hold secrets. The truth of what lies beneath its stately stone edifice would surely disrupt the noble and honorable reputation the Knights hold in Mondstadt. Before this building became a bastion of freedom, it served as the base for the ruling class of aristocrats that sought to oppress and enslave its citizens. Though their power has long been stripped, the remnants of the Lawrence clan’s iron rule remain in the form of long-buried catacombs.
It is precisely the secret and undisturbed nature of these hidden pockets of darkness that make them an ideal site for Albedo’s newest experiment. He has a lab on the upper floors, yes; a lively space with wide windows that admit the southern sun, occupied with all of the tomes, tools and tinctures he requires to further his alchemical pursuits. Yet it is this openness which makes it not suitable for this new experiment. Sunlight—and prying eyes—may very well disrupt the process he is trying to study.
The door to the underground lab is sealed shut with a lock of Albedo’s creation. Only a Geo Vision wielder with sufficiently advanced knowledge of the alchemical arts can open it. Among the Knights, there is but one other Geo user; but Noelle’s low rank, not to mention her demure personality, are sufficient to deter her from snooping, should she ever discover this place exists.
...Well, Albedo reflects, there is one other wielder of Geo among the Knights. But his status is more honorary—and besides. He is a rather... special case.
He presses both hands against the plate on the door. Between his two hands, one controlling the element of inert stone, the other the life-giving Art of Khemia, the door slides open to admit him and him alone.
He enters the space beyond, the lock mechanism sliding shut automatically behind. The air down here is still and stale. He’s illuminated in the golden glow of his own Vision that sits at the nape of his neck. He reaches up and unclips the Vision, placing it inside his inner jacket pocket. He wants no eyes on what is happening here—not even his own God’s Eye.
With the Vision hidden away, the only light is a dim red glow that shines further down within the catacombs. Albedo heads down the tunnel towards this faint red light.
Soon, he comes to the central chamber that he has co-opted and converted into his laboratory. He’s swept the floor clean of rubble and debris and brought down various items to aid in his tests: notebooks, quills and ink, and an alchemy table of modest size. These all surround the object in the center of the room, the source of the red light.
In the center of the room, atop a circular dais, stands something that resembles a small tree. Unlike the trees of the surface world, its bark is a pale white, shot through with streaks of red like veins. It’s these veins that give off the red glow that illuminates the room. Rather than leaves, the body and branches of the tree are studded with flower-like growths of red crystal.
The roots of the tree are coiled around a much larger crystalline form, partly embedded in the soil: an oval-shaped stone that resembles an egg.
Albedo swiftly sets to work. Using his measuring tools, he records the length of the tree’s branches and roots, making notes in his notebook. Certain that he’s alone, he muses aloud about his findings:
“Irminsul growth experiment, day 115,” he says, voice low in the dark. “The speed of growth continues in the absence of light and water. It appears that these subterranean conditions are indeed ideal for proliferating species ordinarily native to Domains. However, the growth rate of this specimen is several hundred times that of what one might observe in its natural habitat. Thus, the conclusion we can draw... is...”
He trails off, finding his eyes drawn into the red glowing core of the crystal. We? He’s alone in this case. Perhaps he’s fallen back into the habits of his former master, who brought him by her side on her own expeditions and investigations. Or perhaps he’s gotten too used to having a companion by his side, for experiments and otherwise...
Albedo shakes his head. This is far from the right time or place for such outside distractions to take hold. Here, in the forgotten belly of the city, he is the closest he’s ever been to a breakthrough. The truth of this world; the meaning of life—these are the mysteries that are bound up like the roots of ley line trees.
The small tree emits a low hum, more vibration than sound. He places his hand against its white and crimson bark and closes his eyes, feeling it vibrate within his chest. It pulses in sync with the crystalline flower he has instead of a heart.
“You’re like me,” he tells the tree. Though it resembles its kind in the world above, it is a creation of alchemy and ancient arts. But as its roots stretch down to the ley lines below, and its branches reach to the stars above, it might someday become indistinguishable from that which it imitates.
Albedo is very interested in the outcome of this experiment.
—
Chapter One: Prodigal Sun
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( oh shady baby, i’m hot
like a prodigal sun
pick a petal, eeny-meeny-miney-mo
and flower, you’re the chosen one )
—
Albedo is working in his sunlit laboratory when he hears a polite yet determined knock on the door. He looks up from the tincture he is in the process of decanting, carefully sets it aside, and opens the door to see Acting Grand Master Jean standing outside.
“My apologies for interrupting your work,” Jean says. “I require your assistance as Captain of the Knights of Favonius Investigation Team.”
“Of course,” he responds with a nod of his head, and invites her in. The workshop is—not messy, although it might appear that way to an outside observer. Rather, most of its surfaces are occupied by racks of bottles and vials, specimens, and lab equipment used by himself and Sucrose. There is one stool by the door that exists as a concession to the odd visitor, as otherwise there are few open spaces to sit. He gestures that Jean should make herself as comfortable as the cramped conditions allow. “How might I be of service?”
The Acting Grand Master remains standing. “There is a matter that has come to my attention, flagged by Iris of the Adventurer’s Guild,” she says. “It concerns some unusual Hilichurl activity spotted in the vicinity of Galesong Hill.”
Albedo raises an eyebrow. “I was under the impression that dealing with Hilichurls so far outside city limits was precisely the role of the Adventurer’s Guild.”
“Generally speaking, that would be the case,” says Jean. “However, the report I received concerns an unusually aggressive Mitachurl that may have descended from Dragonspine. If the Hilichurls are migrating in large numbers from the mountain, that may present a larger threat to trade and supply routes in Mondstadt as a whole.”
Albedo nods. What she’s saying makes sense; the monsters found on Dragonspine are known to be substantially stronger and more dangerous than those inhabiting the lowlands. And the suggestion that they could be migrating intrigues him. He wonders if it has anything to do with the changing climate on the mountain.
“What would you have me do?” he asks.
“Investigate the area to see if there is any credibility to the rumors. It shouldn’t be necessary for you to eliminate the Mitachurl in question, unless it appears to be a clear threat.”
“Understood,” Albedo says with a nod. “I just need to finish this titration, and I’ll depart momentarily—”
“Oh, one other thing,” adds Jean. “I know that you are a capable fighter, Albedo. But given the potential danger this mission could represent, I’ve arranged to have one of your fellow knights accompany you for added security.”
“Ah,” says Albedo, slightly resigned. Jean’s logic is sound; it’s not her fault that by nature, Albedo prefers to work alone. “Who might that be?”
“You know, it’s quite interesting,” Jean says. “Our Honorary Knight doesn’t typically take assignments like this one, but as soon as he heard you’d be in charge of the investigation, he volunteered. I take it the two of you have some sort of history working together...?”
At the mention of the Honorary Knight, there’s a vice-like squeezing inside of Albedo’s chest. Through it, he manages to say to Jean, “Indeed, he and I are... well acquainted.”
“That’s good to hear. I’m glad whenever our Knights have a strong working relationship.”
Working relationship, he thinks wryly. If only Jean knew.
The Acting Grand Master relays the rest of the details of the mission, and departs soon after. Albedo sets to work preparing a collection of gear for the expedition. His usual fare includes a wind glider, a portable stove, and several NREs. He tucks his ubiquitous notebook into an inner pocket. Lastly, he summons his sword: Favonius-forged, with an elegant handguard resembling a feathered wing. Testing the edge, the keen blade draws a tiny drop of crimson blood from his fingertip. He dismisses the sword and places the cut finger in his mouth. With a swipe of his tongue and a miniscule pulse of Khemia, he seals the cut so no mark remains on his chalk-pale skin.
As he descends to the main lobby of the Favonius headquarters, his mind focused on the expedition ahead, he nearly misses a small, red figure that hurtles itself towards him at frightening speed.
“Big bro Albedo!” exclaims a high-pitched voice, as Klee collides with him at waist height, wrapping her arms around his midsection. The impact knocks him back a bit, and he has to brace his footing to keep from getting bowled over completely.
Still, warm fondness pulses within Albedo’s chest. “Hello, little spark,” he says, bending down a bit so that he can return her hug. She’s seven now, and not as tiny as she used to be.
“Are you going out again? Can Klee come?” Her bright, round eyes peer up at him, glittering expectantly.
He sighs, and pats her head. “Unfortunately, not this time. It could be dangerous. It’s best that you remain here, where there are many brave Knights who will look after you.” He looks up, casting his gaze around the lobby for her current caretaker. “On that note...”
“—My apologies,” comes a smooth voice, as Cavalry Captain Kaeya steps out from the entrance to the library. “We were doing some reading, but she ran as soon as she saw you.” His solitary eye appraises Albedo, with his travel pack and outdoor gear. “So, you’re heading out on another expedition. Planning to be gone a few months again, like last time?”
Albedo bristles slightly. “No. I expect this will only be for a day or so,” he says. Although they’re both captains, he’s never really seen eye to eye with Kaeya. They’re very different people, and there’s something about Kaeya’s keenly observant nature that sets Albedo on edge. A consequence of having secrets. “Jean’s orders. Aether and I are investigating some unusual Mitachurl activity on Galesong Hill.”
Kaeya raises an eyebrow. “Aether, huh? Not often our Honorary Knight himself gets involved in these sorts of things.”
“Yes, well.” Albedo shifts uncomfortably. “He volunteered. And Jean thought it would be prudent.”
“Must be something serious, then, if it’s got Jean’s attention,” Kaeya drawls. “Well, don’t worry—we’ll keep matters running smoothly in your absence. And that means keeping an eye on this little one, too.”
“Big broooo,” Klee whines, grasping handfuls of Albedo’s jacket, “It’s so boring when you’re not around! Can I come with you next time?”
“Next time,” Albedo says. “Hmm. I do need to collect some cecilias for my experiments. How about when I return, I’ll take you to Starsnatch cliff, and you can help me with gathering ingredients?”
Her face lights up like a firework. “Oooh! Yes, yes, yes!”
“But in the meantime, you’ll need to behave,” Albedo tells her sternly. “That means no more running off. And no setting off explosions inside the city. Can you do that for me?”
“Hum, okay...” she says. “Come back soon!”
“I will,” he promises, and places a light kiss on the top of her head. Klee squeals in delight and skips off back inside the library. Kaeya follows her, but hovers at the door, looking back over his shoulder at Albedo.
“She misses you when you leave, you know,” he says. “We all do. So try not to tarry so long this time, okay?”
He knows that Kaeya means well. And he shouldn’t get upset considering how his fellow Captain is stepping up to watch Klee in Albedo’s absence. Still, he has to force back down the irritation that flares inside. “I’ll return promptly once the assignment is complete.”
“Good,” Kaeya says with a nod and a smile. “Enjoy your time with the Honorary Knight, Captain Albedo.”
With that, he vanishes inside the library following Klee, leaving Albedo wondering just how much the Cavalry Captain knows about him and Aether.
He departs from the Knights Headquarters, taking a back-alley path to avoid any further unwanted human interaction. The closer he draws to the agreed meet-up spot, the more his head is abuzz with thoughts and emotions. Aether. Aether. Why is it always Aether?
By the time he arrives at the main gate, and sees the golden haired Traveler awaiting him there accompanied by his ever-present floating companion, Albedo feels close to fainting. Nevertheless, he straightens his posture and forces the nervous energy back down to present himself in an orderly fashion.
Aether’s face lights up as Albedo draws close. “There you are!”
“Indeed,” Albedo says. “My apologies for the delay. I was briefly waylaid by some fellow Knights, and my sister.”
“Oh! How is Klee?” Aether asks. He’s always so genuinely earnest.
“She drives a hard bargain. I promised to take her flower-picking upon my return,” Albedo says.
He allows himself a moment to look at Aether. The midday sun catches in his golden hair and long eyelashes, making him look radiant as ever.
“Picking flowers with Mondstadt’s very own Spark Knight... sounds like fun,” Aether says with a smile. “You got room for one more on that expedition?”
“Two more!” interjects Paimon, floating by Aether’s shoulder. “Don’t forget about Paimon!”
Albedo laughs quietly in the back of his throat. “Perhaps,” he says, smiling uncontrollably. “But we shouldn’t get ahead of ourselves. We’ve got official business to take care of, first. Shall we depart?”
“Ready when you are!”
They exit the city, walking side by side over the stone arch bridge that connects the city of Mondstadt to the mainland. Doves scatter around them and come to roost in their wake. The sun shines in the sky, high and warm. It is, Albedo thinks, a perfect day.
“This is quite an opportune moment,” he tells Aether. “I was hoping to take some time to further our... research, together.”
Aether’s cheeks flush pink. “Oh.”
At his reaction, Albedo blushes too, and stammers. “N-not in the manner that might suggest. What I meant was... your sword.”
“Oh.” Aether’s blush turns into an easy smile. With a wave of his hand, he summons the black sword that Albedo gave him when they first met. The purple-red gem set into the hilt glistens like an eye in the sunlight. “This sword?”
Seeing it rest so comfortably in Aether’s hand causes Albedo to feel complex emotions, low in his belly like a hunger. “Looks like it’s seen some more use.”
“Yep! It’s helped me out of more than one rough situation,” Aether says.
Albedo smiles. “If we have some free time when we arrive at our destination, I would like to test your progress. Personally.”
“You mean, like, a duel?” Aether’s face lights up. “I don’t think I’ve ever dueled you before...”
“I believe it could be a way to gather some very useful data.”
Aether laughs at that. “You always say that. It’s always about gathering data... you know, you can just admit you like watching me fight!”
Albedo laughs, low. “That might indeed be part of it, yes.”
They arrive at the far side of the bridge. It’s a fairly long trek to Galesong Hill on foot, but fortunately the Knights have furnished them with a horse-drawn cart that will transport them as far as the Adventurer’s camp at the foot of Dragonspine. The cavalryman salutes them as they draw close.
“Sir Albedo! Honorary Knight! It’s an honor,” he says. “We’re all set to go. Should be a couple of hours before we reach the mountain’s base, not much longer.”
“How convenient,” Albedo says. He peers in the back of the cart where they’ll be riding, and finds it occupied with crates and canvas-wrapped bundles. “If I might enquire—what else are we bringing to the outpost?”
“Mostly medical supplies, sir,” says the knight. “Bandages and healing salves. Apparently, a batch of adventurers got seriously roughed up by some sort of monster. That area sure is dangerous, after all...” He pauses, considering his immediate company, and adds, “Of course, it’s different for Vision wielders like yourself, and folks like the Honorary Knight.”
Albedo nods. “Still, it helps to be wary,” he says. “Thank you. We’ll take our seats in the back.”
They set off. It’s not the most comfortable of rides; but it certainly beats having to go the distance on foot. The irregular jerking and jostling of the cart makes for a poor environment for sketching or note-taking, but Albedo tries nevertheless. The opportunity to draw Aether is too precious to pass up.
Aether’s gaze lifts to meet his own. “You’re staring,” he points out with a smile.
“And? Is that an issue? I was under the impression that you rather enjoyed my attention,” Albedo says, wearing his own smile in return.
“I do,” agrees Aether, eyes glittering.
Just then, the cart hits a rock in the road and the charcoal Albedo’s hand jitters, drawing an inadvertent dark slash across the careful sketch of Aether’s face. He frowns, and tears out the ruined drawing to begin anew.
As they go, Aether fills him in on things that he has seen since they last spent time together: commissions he’s taken on behalf of the Adventurer’s guild, strange ruins he’s explored and treasure he found, interesting and unique characters he’s met across Mondstadt and Liyue. He speaks of his difficulty finding passage into Inazuma, where he wishes to go in order to gain an audience with their Archon, in the hopes of finding his sister.
“So, there have been no major leads on that front, I take it?” Albedo inquires.
Aether shakes his head. “No. Not since Lantern Rite,” he says. “I don’t really mind, though. I knew this journey would be long—so it’s not like there’s any rush. I’ll go for as long as it takes.”
How nice it must be to have the luxury of time, Albedo thinks. His own work seems to expand to fill all the spare time he has available. Between his duties to the Knights and the responsibilities of looking after his adopted sister, it feels like there’s never enough hours in the day. The longer his research takes, the further away he feels from his objective.
If he fails to accomplish his master’s final task—to discover the truth and meaning of this world—will he ever see Rhinedottir again?
They arrive at the camp shortly thereafter, and are greeted by Iris of the Adventurer’s Guild. She takes inventory of the supplies in the cart, and greets Albedo and Aether with some familiarity.
“Might we see the adventurers who were victims of the monster attack?” Albedo asks.
Iris grimaces. “There were four—but one was too far gone, and we couldn’t save him.” Regret weighs heavy on her in the form of visible bags under her eyes. “The other three should be resting. I’ll see whether any feel up to talking about what they saw.”
A short while later, she returns, and tells them that one of the adventurers has agreed to speak of his experience. She leads Albedo and Aether through the flap door of the makeshift medical tent. The sight within is grisly: bloodied bandages and a trio of broken bodies. Two of them are unconscious, but one, a senior adventurer, is awake and notices them as they come in.
“So they did send the Knights,” he says gruffly. “Bit too late for us, but it’s best that it shouldn't happen again.”
Albedo crouches beside the man’s bed. That this man is clearly an experienced adventurer is cause for worry. Whatever monster he encountered, it must have been formidable to wreak this level of destruction on such a large party.
“Can you describe what you saw?”
“It was a ‘Churl, all right,” he says. “Bigger n' a Mitachurl, bit smaller than one of those big Lawachurls. Fast, though. Faster than any I’d ever seen.” He grunts and winces, as speaking seems to agitate a freshly-bandaged wound on his side. “Aggressive too. More than most. They can get territorial but they usually calm down when you leave ‘em far enough alone. Not this one though. It was like it was hunting us.”
“Hunting you? How so?”
“We weren’t lookin' for a fight. Soon as we saw it, we turned and went the other way, but it came for us anyway. Chased us down. Savage, it was.”
Albedo carefully notes down what he’s saying. “Anything else you could share?”
“It looked weird. Not that I got a good look at it, but...” He exhales a shuddering breath, clearly in pain. “I’ll never forget those sounds it made. Never heard a Churl make those sorts of noises. Sounded like it was sick, or something.”
There’s a sinking feeling in his stomach; it’s likely their investigation will turn into a monster-slaying expedition, after all. A sick, feral Mitachurl that attacks adventuring parties unprovoked is too dangerous to let roam freely. “Where did you encounter it?”
“Up north. Past the sword cemetery—ghh,” he grunts in pain.
Albedo closes his notebook. “Thank you for this information,” he tells the adventurer. “I’m sorry for the loss of your men. The Knights will make sure this threat is dealt with.”
“Those sounds,” the adventurer repeats, seemingly delirious from the pain. “I’ll never forget. It sounded like... a man... in agony...”
He closes his eyes then, and the medic hurries to his side to check on his vitals. Albedo and Aether excuse themselves from the tent and meet up outside.
Paimon emerges once they’re clear. “The monster that guy was talking about... it sounds scary...”
“Looks like our investigation is turning out to be more dangerous than we thought,” Aether agrees.
“Is that a concern? We could send for backup,” Albedo says.
Aether shakes his head. “It could attack somebody else by the time backup gets here. We need to deal with it before that happens. What if it attacked the camp?”
As usual, Albedo thinks, Aether’s compassion wins out. “Very well. I trust your judgment. Do you think you’re up to the task of slaying it?”
Aether grins. “I’m a lot stronger than I was when we first met,” he says. “Plus, it’s two-on-one, and we’ve got the powers of elements on our side. I’ve dealt with dozens of Mitachurls before—even an extra-big, extra-fast one shouldn’t be an issue for the both of us.”
“Yeah! We got this,” cheers Paimon.
Albedo smiles. “Very well. Shall we?”
They leave the camp, walking north along the road that slopes gently upwards towards Cape Oath. To their right towers Dragonspine, stark and massive against the blue sky. The Skyfrost Nail gleams at the top like a glistening beacon in the light. Though the mountain is still snow-capped, Albedo notes with interest that some of the ice has receded from its base. Whether that’s due to the spring weather verging into summer in Mondstadt, or because of a deeper and longer-lasting change due to freeing the Nail, Albedo can’t say. He’ll eventually have to do another expedition to check on the temperature monitors he left around the mountain.
This part of Galesong Hill is scenic, yet largely deserted. This is due to the large Hilichurl presence there. The three tribes that inhabit Dadaupa Gorge are a subject of frequent study by anthropologists keen on understanding the monsters' apparent culture and customs. Such research is far enough removed from Albedo’s field of study to be beyond his understanding, but he has a healthy appreciation for his fellow academics' work. On some level, each of them are seeking the truth of the world, following distinct yet converging paths to get at the elusive core of understanding.
As they pass the Eclipse tribe camp, located far down a stark cliff, Aether remarks, “Does this place seem a little... empty to you?”
Albedo notes his observation and concurs. This area is normally a hive of activity, and yet the normal Hilichurls and Samachurls are oddly few and far between.
“Do you think it has anything to do with the strange Mitachurl...?”
“It’s possible,” Albedo says. In that moment, he finds himself regretting his general lack of knowledge of Hilichurlian customs. As it stands, he has little idea as to whether they are nocturnal or diurnal, nor how they react to intruders of their own kind. Without this data, any hypotheses he might formulate will be grounded on little but air.
They press further onward, criss-crossing the length and breadth of Cape Oath that forms a jutting cliff over the sea. However, no sign of their quarry presents itself despite their searching. Eventually they agree to take a break as the sun angles lower in the sky. They sit atop a wind-scoured boulder, eating the NREs and some apples that Aether picked from a nearby tree. Aether plucks a Sweet Flower, his fingers idly worrying at the petals.
Paimon floats out from behind Aether. “Paimon hasn’t seen any big, scary monsters... or many monsters at all, actually! There’s no way those adventurers were pulling our leg, is there?”
“With those injuries, I doubt it,” Aether says. “There’d be no reason to lie about something like that.”
“Unless they were trying to save face...” Paimon looks skeptical. “Maybe they got hurt in a dumb way, like fighting a slime, but they wanted to sound brave and cool, so they made something else up instead.”
Albedo recalls the injuries the adventurers had: a combination of blunt-force bruising and deep slashes. Not the type of wounds a lesser monster would leave. Between that, and the look on the man’s face, he says, “I believe they were telling the truth.”
“It’s too bad Mitachurls aren’t elemental monsters. I could use my Sight to track it down...” says Aether.
“Hey! That’s worth a try,” agrees Paimon.
Aether nods, and concentrates for a moment. His eyes flicker and flash with that now-familiar multicolored sheen as he scans their surroundings. After a bit, he closes his eyes and shakes his head.
“Nothing...” he sounds disappointed. “Some small traces of Cryo and Electro, but those are probably slime trails.”
“Alas,” says Albedo. “If no sign of the target presents itself, we may need to stake out the area for the night... or, perhaps it is hiding.” After a momentary pause, he has a flash of inspiration. “Unless... we manage to draw it out somehow.”
“I can tell whenever you get that look that you’ve got a new idea,” Aether says. “What’re you thinking?”
“Do you recall the first time you and I fought a Mitachurl together?” Albedo asks him.
“Yeah—Albedo made us drink that gross stuff, and a whole bunch of monsters came running!” Paimon says.
“Elemental bait won’t work on Hilichurls, will it...?” Aether wonders.
Albedo shakes his head. “No. But it wasn’t the bait that lured the Hilichurls. It was the sounds of fighting that drew their attention.”
“So, you want to make a lot of noise in order to attract our target.”
“But there’s no monsters around here,” points out Paimon.
Albedo’s expression curls into a smile. “Do you recall what I asked you earlier? About measuring your progress with that sword?”
Aether blinks at him in surprise. “You want to fight... me?”
“If you’re amenable,” Albedo says. He hops off the rock and summons his own sword with a flourish of his hand. He raises his chin towards Aether, meeting his eyes in a clear expression of challenge. “I’m curious as to whether the evidence supports your claim that your skills have improved.”
Aether smiles, and joins him in the grass meadow. The black sword manifests in his hand like it belongs there. “Oh, I’ve improved all right. The real question is, can you keep up?”
They circle one another: sword-tip to sword-tip, treading flat the ankle-length grass underfoot.
“What are the rules?” Aether asks, wearing that clever grin on his face. He’s enjoying this.
“First one to disarm or otherwise incapacitate the other wins,” Albedo tells him. “I see no use for unnecessary bloodshed. Although, don’t believe that means I will go easy on you.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Aether says. He makes a few flourishes with the black sword, not to attack but rather to disorient. The tainted metal sings as it slices through the air. Albedo notices a tendon tensing in his neck, and a split-second later, raises his own sword to parry Aether’s lunge.
Metal clashes against metal; Aether laughs, clearly pleased. “So you don’t just spend all day locked up in your lab.”
“Naturally not. You know by now that my job involves excursions such as these all of the time,” Albedo tells him. In his role as a Captain of the Knights, keeping his skills sharp is a must. Not to mention, in his time before arriving in Mondstadt, his master made sure he cultivated all the skills necessary to survive. In this case: perceptiveness, and how to read an opponent, anticipating when they will strike next.
Aether shifts his weight, weaving to and fro as he studies Albedo, scrutinizing the best angle for attack. He feints to the left, then lunges with a straight strike; Albedo parries this, too.
“Aren’t you gonna attack?” Aether taunts. “That seems to be your style—evade and defend. You’ll wear out before too long like that.”
“A solid defense can be channeled into a strong offense,” Albedo replies, not taking his eyes off Aether the entire time. “You’ll find that I have no problems with stamina, either.”
“Oh?” Aether smiles coyly. “Is that so?”
His tone of voice provokes a surge of feeling in the pit of Albedo’s stomach. Aether must sense it, because in an eyeblink he’s lunging at Albedo again, clashing their swords together with a loud clanging of steel. He presses the flats of their blades against one another, trying to shove Albedo off-balance; but Albedo is far stronger and steadier than his short stature would seem.
Aether presses on, sliding their swords against each other until they meet at the hilt. He locks eyes with Albedo between the crossed blades, their faces inches apart.
“Everybody’s got a weak point,” he says with a smile.
Then, before Albedo can think of a response, Aether kisses him.
It’s just a peck on the lips, but it’s enough; Aether twists his wrist and Albedo’s sword goes flying from his hands and clatters to the ground below. Moments later, before Albedo can even process what’s happening, the traveler hooks a leg behind Albedo’s and shoves him backwards, so that he overbalances and falls over on his back in the dewy grass.
He stares up at the drifting clouds in the sky, dazed and fuming. He’s mostly mad at himself; he should’ve foreseen such an attack coming.
Aether stands over him, grinning smugly. In a fit of pettiness, Albedo snaps his fingers and blooms a Solar Isotoma under one of Aether’s feet. The flower elevator rises up, disrupting his balance; Aether gives a yelp of surprise and drops his sword, tumbling forward so that his arms and knees frame Albedo where he lies on the ground.
In a moment, the surprise fades from Aether’s face and is replaced with wry laughter. “That was a dirty trick,” he chuckles. “Using your Vision. Cheater.”
“So was what you did,” Albedo says. “And I never said elemental powers weren’t allowed.”
“I... suppose that’s true,” Aether admits. His eyes fall to Albedo beneath him, and then to his lips, and then they’re kissing again.
Albedo could dedicate an entire treatise to the subject of kissing Aether: how readily he melts into his touch, the way he tastes like honey and starlight. He laughs into the kiss, soft and pliant between Albedo’s palms. A few moments later, Albedo executes a move he read about in a Inazuman martial arts novel, and flips their positions, so that Aether is the one on his back. He lets out a gasp of surprise and blinks up at Albedo, clearly pleased.
“You have no idea,” Albedo tells him, voice low and smoldering, “How much I have been wanting to touch you this entire time.”
“Well? Why didn’t you?” Aether meets his eyes, with the same competitive expression he’d worn when Albedo challenged him to a duel.
“I—” Albedo’s confidence flags, a little. “The other Knights...”
Sensing Albedo’s hesitance, Aether’s expression softens. “I’m only teasing. I know you said you’d rather keep this between us,” he says. Then there’s that coy smile again. “But, you know, there’s no one else around right now—”
“HEY!” A high-pitched voice, loud, shrill and distressed, cuts through the moment. “You two—look out! Paimon thinks we’ve got company!”
Paimon’s warning is accompanied by a deep, sinister growl. Albedo and Aether spring apart from each other like magnets of the same polarity. Albedo’s sword vanishes from where it lies in the grass and re-materializes in his hand, as he looks towards their intruder.
A large, shaggy form lumbers crookedly up the hill, headed directly towards their location. The unfortunate adventurer wasn’t kidding about its size: the monster is much larger than a standard Mitachurl, appearing even bigger due to its thick mane of matted hair. Its mane is an unusual color, white at the tips, shading to black, then a dark red at the roots that run behind the mask it wears. There’s something odd about its mask, too—it appears crooked, not covering the monster’s face completely. Its jaw hangs open below, revealing a drooling maw with irregular teeth.
Taught muscles ripple underneath the monster’s mottled gray skin, which is partially covered in scraps of ruined fabric and even pieces of an incomplete armor set. More strangeness; Mitachurls are seldom known to wear clothing aside from crude cloth wrappings. It drags a weapon behind it: not a shield or axe, as most Mitachurls are known to carry, but rather a hammer of decidedly non-Hilichurlian make. The weapon’s inner core flickers purple with sparks of Electro energy, and some of these sparks run up the monster’s arm, causing its muscles to twitch and spasm.
Seeing the both of them, the monster lets out a sound—in that moment, Albedo realizes what the adventurer had been talking about. It doesn’t sound like a Mitachurl. It almost sounds like it’s trying to form words with a mouth that’s too mangled to properly speak.
“Hhhheeeerr yooooaaaaarrghh,” it groans. The lone eye visible behind its crooked mask regards Albedo and Aether with a look that can only be described as unmitigated hatred.
Then, moving at a speed far swifter than its bulky frame should allow, the monster bears down on the both of them. Albedo and Aether split in opposite directions, just fast enough to avoid being gored on the horns that protrude from its skull. The monster pivots rapidly, hefting its heavy hammer in an overhead arc and slamming it into the ground. The attack sends crackling shockwaves out, rupturing the earth underfoot with explosions of Electro energy.
Albedo snaps into action. He blooms a Solar Isotoma on the ground, which crystallizes with the ambient elements to form a protective shield. He follows this up with a swift strike to the monster’s side in between its armor plating. The strike hits true, but doesn’t cut deep enough to deal any serious damage to the hulking beast.
Its solitary red eye now turns to Albedo. It pivots with startling swiftness to strike at him with its off-hand. The attack ruptures the crystal shield immediately, sending him sliding several paces back.
It raises its hammer overhead, preparing to deal a decisive blow to the now-unshielded Albedo, when Aether’s voice shouts out, “Don’t touch him!”
A Geo boulder materializes above, crashing down on the monster’s head. It staggers back with a grunt and pivots towards Aether. The traveler continues on the offensive, striking at the monster with a burst of Anemo energy. The swirling wind blades lift tendrils of Electro, gaining in power as they slice away at the monster’s form.
The monster draws in a rattling breath, and as it does, the lines on its chest pulse a neon blue. The temperature around it seems to drop precipitously. With a guttural roar, it opens its mouth to exhale a freezing mist.
Aether winces and recoils from the sudden icy onslaught. The low temperatures cause the Electro in the air to superconduct, arcing with a bright flash of light. The Traveler gives a cry of pain.
Aether needs him. Albedo hops onto the flower elevator, which lifts him up to a height above the monster’s jagged horns. From there, he leaps onto the monster’s back and drives his sword downwards into the area covered by shaggy fur, towards where the creature’s neck should be. He feels the sword cleave through flesh. The beast lets out a guttural howl of pain.
He drops to the ground again, leaving the sword sticking out of the monster’s neck. On the opposite side, Aether recovers, and slams his palm into the earth. “Quake!”
The earth rumbles underfoot, and sharp Geo constructs shoot up from below. These pierce into the monster’s lower body, rooting it firmly to the ground.
Aether’s flashing eyes catch Albedo’s amidst the chaos. He shouts, “Now! Finish it!”
Albedo nods. The air crackles with elemental energy kicked up in the fight, and Albedo wills his Vision to drink that power in. He closes his eyes for the briefest of moments, tapping into his inner talents—that bursting, blooming, burgeoning power that can destroy equally as well as it creates. He concentrates the energy in the palm of his hand. Then he presses it firmly against the monster’s back, shouting, “Live!”
An enormous bloom pierces directly through the monster’s chest and out the other side. Cascading reactions of Geo and Khemia spread throughout the monster’s form, through its chest and down the length of its arms. The flowers rupture its skin and crystallize its bones in a lurid work of art and violence.
The monster takes one last, gasping breath as the crystal flowers claim its lungs. Its red eye rolls towards Albedo, and as the light fades from its eyes, it groans, “Hhhyyyoooooouuhhh....”
It teeters over and collapses, parts of its body shattering on impact like brittle glass. Quickly, its skin begins to disintegrate, curling away into ashy fragments. The bodies of monsters tend to dissolve upon death, raw life energy returning to feed the ley lines unless special care is taken to preserve their materials, bones, and skin. This monster is no exception: its blood is already evaporating, bones crumbling away to dust.
Albedo is almost disappointed. He would have liked to study it while it was still alive. Before its body decays completely, he pulls out several vials from his inner jacket and harvests some samples of the monster’s hair and other essence to bring with him back to the lab. The stasis runes carved on the vials will hopefully slow the decomposition process long enough to collect useful data.
Aether approaches the remains as they fragment into nothingness. He tosses the decaying cloth and bones with the tip of his sword, seeking out what remnants lie among the debris of the battle. Soon enough, he finds something that catches his attention.
“Albedo,” he says in a quiet voice. “You need to come see this.”
Albedo approaches his side. He looks with interest at the object Aether indicates.
Lying among the monster’s remains is the distinctive, jagged shape of a mask worn by a member of the Fatui.