Chapter Text
Paralogue:
The birth
“No, no. This is not right…”
Something was missing. It made a part of Rhinedottir feel certain that using chalk was not enough to save a life that was almost lost — a life she wants to bring back to the world. She needed something else to be able to imbue the little one with life force. It had to be something powerful enough to allow the little one to have a long life, something like...
“Master Rhinedottir.” Her assistant suddenly appeared with something wrapped in his hands. Only he and the young prince of Khaenri'ah knew what the alchemist was doing in that secret laboratory hidden from the eyes of the people.
She was going to ask the young man what he was holding in his hands, but suddenly, an odd sound was heard. It was a hiss like that of a gas leak. When she looked back at the tank, which contained the half-dying body of a baby boy of only one year, she realized that there was a hole.
Her body moved before her mind, she has to avoid losing this life at any cost. No matter what, she has to save it, she has to make the experiment successful.
If she fails and the baby can't go on living, how could she ever meet the young prince's face again should she fail him?
* * *
How did it start?
It has been almost a year since Rhinedottir confined herself to that laboratory of hers, claiming that she needed to do an experiment in isolation and that only her assistant could go with her. Many were against it, skeptical of her odd behavior, but their opinions did not matter. All that was needed was the intervention of the young prince who declared that he would oversee her experiment by visiting the alchemist once a month. He would be escorted along the way but would have to be alone when entering the laboratory.
But what about this experiment made him want to keep a close eye?
There were rumors about Rhinedottir doing something exclusively for the prince while others thought that it was something very dangerous and, for that reason, the heir to the throne wanted to make sure that the situation did not get out of control.
However, the biggest problem was that the young prince was only a child, so they couldn't trust his judgment too much. What if he was being influenced by the alchemist to do something against the nation?
Even so, no one could prevent the inevitable. And so, Rhinedottir left with the company of her assistant, heading toward a distant laboratory that still remained within the nation’s territory. She brought all her alchemical instruments with a tiny bundle carried in her hands, the odd addition causing the people’s curiosity to grow.
How did that baby end up in the alchemist's hands and why was the young prince involved in that experiment?
For Rhinedottir, she remembers that night very well.
The rain was falling so hard that she almost didn't hear the soft but desperate knocking on her door. When she opened it, she never expected to find the prince completely soaked with something very small in his arms. He was holding it as if it would break at any moment.
“Miss Rhinedottir, please save him.”
In the prince's arms was a small baby with pale skin, parts of the body covered with blood. The terribly irregular breathing made it obvious that the baby was at death’s door.
She hadn’t asked any questions, she just acted and tried her best to keep the little being stable as she listened to the story of how the young prince found him. The prince had been taking a walk near the lake, only to notice something out of the ordinary as he approached the shore. It was then when he realized that it was a young baby littered with wounds, health gradually declining. He was unsure of what to do, and so, his only idea was to take the baby to the alchemist.
His decision was a fortunate one, for taking the baby to a doctor would have done no good. A simple glance was all it would’ve taken and the doctors would have easily given up on the baby’s life. It was unlike Rhinedottir who continued to find a way to keep the little one stable and give him the life force he had lost.
* * *
When she was finally able to stabilize the leak and see that the baby was still alive in that state of conservation, she finally paid attention to her assistant.
There was something in his hands that was wrapped up, the item long and sword-like, but there was something strange about the object. When she approached him to ask him what it was, she felt it.
A heartbeat, slow and rhythmic; something asking to be released, something that needed to be kept in this world. It possessed an energy like no other. It was corrupt, but at the same time, pure and radiating an almost legendary presence.
“Where did you get this?”
“I went to Mondstadt to collect cecilias as you asked me to and on my way back I got lost. I ended up on a snowy mountain and I almost froze in that place but I found something strange. It looked like a beating heart surrounded by strange red gems that radiated heat and, in the middle of that room, there was this.” He carefully unwrapped the sword in his hands, revealing a weapon that Rhinedottir had never seen in her life. “When I tried to approach and touch it, an energy repelled me. I had to use this blanket so that I could approach and grab the sword without any problem and that's why I brought it to you like this.”
“Perhaps this is…”
“... What you need for the baby to live?”
She didn't answer but very carefully used alchemy to extract a small particle of the energy released by the sword. She carefully analyzed its composition only to step back when, while trying to make a reaction, it exploded, destroying a part of the equipment that Rhinedottir was using to analyze it.
“Do you think it's safe, master?”
“As it is, no, but I can make it work.”
How many months have passed since then? Six? Maybe seven? But despite everything it took her, one day she was finally able to extract enough energy and condense it without forming an explosion. After so long the sword had become quite weak, especially after that last experiment as Rhinedottir extracted everything that was left in it to do what she had to do.
Chalk, energy from a dragon, and a baby that should not be alive but had been in limbo for almost two years.
Alchemy, something delicate and complicated, a slow and laborious process by which she was going to give back and, at the same time, create life.
There were so many things that could go wrong, so many possibilities that had been meticulously calculated, a fairly high percentage of error, and yet she decided to take the risk.
One hour.
Two hours.
Three.
Four.
Almost five hours was the time it took to carry out that delicate process and when all the energy had been introduced into the baby, she waited, but nothing happened.
“It seems that this was also not — ”
She spoke too soon as, out of nowhere, an explosion of energy came from the baby. Red and purple lightning began to fall throughout the laboratory, destroying everything in its path and injuring both Rhinedottir and her assistant in the process.
A cry, a growl, more and more lightning, and, in the end, silence and darkness.
She felt her body burning from the various impacts she had received. Her assistant was unconscious on the floor after being exposed to so much power.
There was a heartbeat, soon followed by another.
It was then that she realized that her ears were catching the sound of a normal and calming heartbeat, one that rang with a graceful and steady rhythm.
Then came a cry and her eyes caught sight of the baby’s figure, but he was no longer quite human.
The limbs were those of a dragon, the body still that of a human but with scales that covered the small body of the child that she had, somehow, saved.
With care and difficulty, she approached, carrying the little being in her arms, who slept peacefully and with a consistently steady breath despite that chaotic display of energy and power.
“Miss Rhinedottir, are you all right?”
“My prince.”
For a moment the alchemist had forgotten that the young prince would arrive today day for his monthly visit. He looked scared and surprised at the destruction of the place, but as he looked at her his eyes lit up and he came closer, wanting to see what she was holding in her arms.
“Is it him? Did you succeed in saving him? Why does he look different?”
“Would you like to hold him, my prince?”
The young prince of six years — very soon to be seven — nodded effusively, stretching out his arms and receiving the baby of about two years of age between them.
He was no longer human, nor was he a dragon. So what or who is this little being that Rhinedottir had given life to?
“Your name will be Albedo.” The young prince said as he carefully stroked the baby's hair with indescribable affection and great appreciation in his eyes. “And I am your prince. I hope you will remember me in the future, Kreideprinz.”