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Albedo doesn’t like to sleep. Sleeping meant dreaming and dreaming typically meant odd memories resurfacing from the depths of his subconscious. He could go with much less sleep than most of the other Knights anyhow, given the peculiar nature of his creation. However, the others didn’t know that. And thus, his sleeping schedule (or rather, lack thereof) tended to drum up quite a bit of concern.
“Mister Albedo, please... You need to sleep sometimes ,” mumbled Sucrose, that pitiful puppy-eyes expression that Albedo oh-so hated on her face. It made it awfully difficult to deny her whatever she may be asking. “It’s bad for your health if you don’t get adequate rest...”
He turned his gaze to face her, looking up from piles of papers, all filled with some form of alchemical jargon sitting in front of him. “Sucrose, do remind me. How many nights have you gotten a full eight hours in the past month?”
“...I-” Her face had suddenly flushed a reddish hue, and she looked away, ears visibly drooping. “...I know... I just get so caught up in my research sometimes that it tends to slip my mind...”
After a few moments of the dejected look (which still reminded him oddly of a puppy, though a bit sadder this time), he let out a quiet sigh, shuffling a few of the pages into a slightly neater pile with a sweep of his hands before looking back to Sucrose. A glass bottle laid beside the pile, an odd light inside that glowed red and black.
“I’ll tell you what. If you go to sleep right now, no excuses, then I’ll go to sleep as well. How does that sound?”
As her expression brightened, Sucrose had given a nod. “...Alright, that- I can settle for that! I wasn’t too busy tonight, anyhow...”
And then, Albedo nodded, turning away from his desk and brushing past his colleague. “...Then have a good night, Sucrose.”
“...You- you too, Mister Albedo!”
And so, he had wandered off and out of his laboratory. The Knights of Favonius headquarters was quiet. After all, not many were awake at... What time was it? Perhaps midnight, one in the morning? He hadn’t passed a clock on his way to be quite sure.
He had a room within the HQ, as did a few other people. The HQ had already had guest rooms in case of diplomatic visitations, so having a few become permanent residences hadn’t been too much of a change. Plus, it had been much easier to keep an eye on Klee when they were right next door to each other. As he stepped into the room, closing the door with a click behind him, he eyed his surroundings.
The room was quite bland, not all that different from when he had first been given it. Most of his possessions had remained within his laboratory, where he arguably spent more of his time. There were a few notable possessions in here- for example, a few drawings that Klee had given him that he hung on the walls- though anything important was kept elsewhere.
As he changed into more suitable nightwear, he had found a drowse already beginning to set in. For a moment, Albedo wondered exactly how long he had been awake. He took a brief nap the other day and had managed a few hours here and there... Rather quickly did he decide not to try and count the abysmally small number. Perhaps Sucrose was right. Even for his own standards, he had been pushing it as of late... Ever since lending Festering Desire to Aether, and extracting the life force from the blade, he had felt rather on-edge. A feeling that didn’t translate well to rest.
He settled into the bed, taking a breath and stifling a yawn in the back of his throat. His Geo Vision glowed faintly on the nightstand, filling the room with the soft colors of orange and yellow. Not bright enough to disrupt him. But peaceful, in a way.
He was out within just minutes.
He wasn’t entirely sure of the moment he awoke. But when he did, it was in a strange haze of sorts. Perhaps it was just the amount of sleep he was lacking finally catching up to him. That’s what he settled on as he got out of bed, readying himself for the day.
He had just reached for his Vision to pin to his coat when he heard it.
Goldson.
He had jerked his head at the voice, brow furrowed as his hand drew away from the pulsing crystal on the nightstand. No one was in the room with him. Not only that but he hadn’t known the voice, he was sure. It wasn’t any of the Knights, at least, not one he was familiar enough with.
...Not anyone who should’ve known his real name. One he hid so desperately in favor of a title.
Perhaps he was just tired and imagining things, he reasoned with himself, taking his Vision in hand.
Goldson.
...Or perhaps he was not.
Reasonably, perhaps he should go see one of the other Knights about this. After all, it could be some Abyssal spell at work that he missed. The Abyss Order ran rather rampant on Dragonspine, after all.
However, that would require far too much explanation. And considering this voice’s explicit use of his name...
“...Who are you?” he asked the air around him, glaring around as if this mysterious voice could see him.
Goldson.
...Now this was just getting more annoying, really. He was Albedo Goldson. The Chief Alchemist. The Kreideprinz. And that wasn’t his own voice speaking, he was sure.
“...Alright, Goldson ,” he spoke the name almost mockingly, “what do you want then?”
Find me.
...Well. That was at least getting him somewhere.
He bit down on his bottom lip for a moment, turning on his heel and walking out the door of his room. The hazy feeling hadn’t yet left his mind, perhaps it had even grown a tinge stronger, but now he had no motivation to go back to sleep. Whoever this Goldson imposter was, he wanted to know.
As he walked down the hall, he spoke again, “And where should I do that?”
My heart. My life.
And suddenly, Albedo stopped, his blood running cold. How thankful he was that not a soul was in sight in HQ. It was peculiar, sure, considering the time of day. But he wouldn’t be complaining.
“...Durin?”
Durin, the black dragon. He whose life force laid within a glass bottle in Albedo’s lab. Whose eyes laid embedded in the guard of Aether’s blade. Who could’ve laid waste to Mondstadt all those years ago, had it not been for Dvalin’s sacrifice. Who corrupted the once-Eastern Wind and sent him to a hundred-year slumber.
Find me.
This time, Albedo wasn’t filled with a burning curiosity, but rather with naught but pure dread.
“And why should I?” he finally asked after perhaps a minute or so of standing in the hall. “...All you do is bring destruction. I owe you nothing, especially not your life.”
Brothers.
The Chief Alchemist’s eyes went slightly wider, and he bit down on his bottom lip once more. “Brothers,” he echoed softly as if testing the word in his mouth like a deadly poison. He wasn’t sure how he felt about the notion, and yet Durin hadn’t been entirely wrong. Because Durin and Albedo had one thing in common, one that had justified what Durin had known about him.
Rhinedottir.
Gold Rhinedottir, one who had brought the fall of a great kingdom once upon a time, had been both of their creators. And there wasn’t much he could do about that fact in the end. People always said that blood was thicker than water, but what came of that notion when your family’s blood is poison?
Albedo didn’t care to think about it. But now the taste in his mouth had turned sour. What mattered more to him? His blood or his city?
Find me.
The voice of Durin echoed louder this time, and he shut his eyes, mumbling soft curses beneath his breath. Perhaps he could just drown it out, find Sucrose and see if she followed through on her end of the deal, and carry on with his day.
He continued onwards down the hall. Around a corner, down a flight of stairs, and soon enough was he just outside of the lab where Sucrose typically resided. He rapped his knuckles on the door, calling out softly, “Sucrose?”
Find me.
“...Sucrose?” he echoed again when he got no response. Of course, she hadn’t typically been one to ignore him on purpose. Perhaps she was just caught up in something. “I’m coming in.”
As he opened the door, however, his breath hitched in his throat when he saw no one inside.
The lab had been just how it usually was. He didn’t step further inside, though looked at the jumble of letters on the papers on her desk rather briefly. He had attempted to try and piece together a few words from where he was standing, though it hadn’t gotten him farther than a small headache in the back of his skull. Was he really that tired?
Find me. Find her.
The new words had caught him off guard, and he froze on the spot, eyes looking around wildly despite the fact he knew he couldn’t see this mysterious voice.
“...What did you do with Sucrose?” His tone was filled with spite.
Find me. Find her.
He fell silent upon the voice’s response, turning on his heel. He’d just go see Master Jean. She was always here by now, being as punctual as she is. Perhaps she’d know if Sucrose had come in today.
He wandered down the next flight of stairs, then another. His lab on the third floor did bring quite a commute some days, though he minded it less when it gave him the freedom of solitude. However, as he entered the first floor, he had suddenly realized. Not a single soul was in HQ beside himself.
“...Hello?” he called rather loudly into the empty hall, boots tapping against the floor being the only sound as he approached the door to the office. He knocked, speaking again, “Master Jean?”
He had gotten no response. He held his breath for a moment before letting out a sigh, bracing himself to open the door. She was just busy, he assured himself, nothing is really wrong.
But as he opened the door, he had suddenly begun to plead in his mind. Because the office was just as empty as Sucrose’s lab.
“Master Jean?” His tone had grown urgent as he stepped inside. He approached her desk, trying to scan the papers for words, though it came as little more than just fuzz in his mind. What was going on? What had Durin done?
Find me. Find them.
“...Give them back.”
My heart. My life. Find me. Find them.
And for the first time in a long while, Albedo was at a loss as to what to do.
Was the amount of life force able to be stored in a glass bottle enough to bring back an ancient beast? If so, then what would come of the city? If not, then what did Durin want with it? Would it be worth the risk to return his life at all?
Find me. Find them.
“Stop it.”
Find me. Find them.
“...I won’t-”
Find me. Find-
“STOP IT!”
The desperate shout tore through his throat, slamming his hands on the desk as he tried to ignore the way his voice quivered. “I- I won’t - we may share the same creator, Durin, but we- we are far from the same. We aren’t-”
We aren’t brothers , he wanted to say.
I don’t have to listen to you , he wanted to shout.
My family is with the Knights, not with my blood , he wanted to cry.
“...I won’t do it,” is all he said instead.
My heart. My life. Find me. Find them.
He let out a quiet whine, rubbing the side of his temple with one hand before turning to leave the office. The haze hadn’t left his mind from when he had awoken. Was it Durin’s doing, in a play to leave him compliant? Albedo was smarter than Durin’s tricks, surely. He didn’t hold the constant praise of being a genius for nothing, after all. There still wasn’t a soul in HQ.
He let his subconscious guide his path as his mind wandered to other places. For a moment, he had recalled so vividly the words he had uttered when Aether had left his Dragonspine camp that day. After the experiments, and the otherworldly bloom.
If one day, I lose control. Destroy Mondstadt... Destroy everything ... Can I count on you to stop me?
Never did he think those words would have such meaning, especially not so soon. He thought, if it were to happen, it would be in pursuit of alchemy- no, not just alchemy- it would be in pursuit of the Art of Khemia that brought his master to destroy Khaenri’ah all those years ago.
He never thought it would be in pursuit of his brother instead.
When he finally snapped back to reality, however, he had suddenly frozen. Because he had found himself entering his lab, and steadily approaching the desk.
The glass bottle sat there, untouched. But he could’ve sworn the red and black light pulsed more violently now. As if the life force had festered. It desired an escape now.
My heart. My life.
He stood just a few feet from his desk now, almost contemplating. One hand hovered in the air as he stared down the bottle. As if glaring at the life force would make it stop misbehaving. He somehow doubted the validity of that statement, but it was worth a shot at the rate things were going.
“...Why?” He raised a brow, looking around once more at the thin air. “Surely this can’t be enough to do anything. You’re a grand beast and this... This is only a glass bottle.”
Mine.
“...Yes, I know it’s yours. But it won’t be of any use to you.”
My heart. My life.
He thought for a moment. That same phrase. His heart, his life. Of course, one of the areas of Dragonspine was Wyrmrest Valley, in which Durin’s skeleton lay dormant. Venture further in, and you’d find a cave, one which held...
...His still-beating heart.
Surely it couldn’t be enough. Right? Surely the amount of power in a bottle couldn’t tip the scales between life and death. From soil is birthed chalk, and from chalk is birthed primordial life , he remembered Rhinedottir saying. Chalk is free from imperfections. He is the Kreideprinz, the Chalk Prince. And this is the dragon, primordial life at its finest.
What is the meaning of life? Master had asked him this before leaving for good. Perhaps he could not provide the meaning to every life, and yet... He is chalk. Was this the meaning of his own? To bring back primordial life?
Would this be the answer to bring back Rhinedottir? To bring back his Master? To bring back his family by blood?
They say blood is thicker than water. But what mattered more to him in the end? The blood pumped by a still-beating heart or the water in the lake that surrounded his city?
A few moments passed. And then, he reached out his hand and took the glass bottle.
The moment he touched the glass, it was as if the energy within had begun to resonate not just with Durin, but with him as well. Warmth had spread across his skin, and for a few seconds did he almost feel an odd sense of comfort.
My heart. My life. My brother.
His grip grew tighter on the bottle, though he didn’t respond to the voice. Brother. He had mulled over the words a few times now, of course, and yet this time, when the dragon spoke it, he didn’t quite feel the same dread as before.
He wasn’t sure if that would be a good thing or not.
Nonetheless, he had turned to leave the lab. As his gaze brushed one more time past his desk, the words on the pages were still incomprehensible, the haze still deep-rooted in his mind as a bit of fog seemed to creep into the corners of his vision.
As he passed through HQ one final time, still no one was in sight. Not a single Knight, not the Acting Grand Master, not even the Outrider or Librarian or Cavalry Captain. Exactly how deep had Durin reached his hold? Where could the missing people even be? The answer to that question didn’t seem possible, after all, Durin was effectively trapped upon that frozen mountain. How could he somehow cause all of the Knights to disappear?
But when he finally walked out of the Knights of Favonius HQ, he realized a new fact.
Mondstadt was quiet.
Mondstadt was never quiet .
It was not just the city of freedom, but the city of wine and song. Everywhere you turned, you’d find a bard, or perhaps just a drunkard making a scene. In some cases, it’d even be both. And yet, the sun hung still just over the horizon, turning the sky various shades of orange and yellow. He held the bottle loosely now against his chest. Not a single song, not a single word. Not a single person in sight. It was as if time had frozen around this moment, a snapshot of the world around him.
As he passed by signs, the letters danced. As he passed Good Hunter, their specials board hadn’t made much actual sense either. He tried briefly rubbing his eyes with one hand, though it hadn’t made much of a difference. A breeze blew through the city, though all he felt was numb. The warmth of the bottle now radiated against his chest, though it had grown fainter now.
Find me.
“I am, just be patient,” he huffed, passing by the Adventurer’s Guild, noting how even Katheryne was gone. “...How? How did you do all of this?”
And yet, the voice gave no response. He rolled his eyes, though didn’t push the subject. Best not to start messing with the dragon who was capable of destroying the entire city...
...As he exited the gates of Mondstadt, still not a soul in sight, he had let his mind wander once more. Barbatos hadn’t been present for such a long time now, though Albedo almost wondered. If Durin were to return, would Barbatos do so as well? Would Dvalin dare try to fight Durin once more? Or would they both leave Mondstadt to its own demise? After all, they had already fought this fight once... Who’s to say they’d bother fighting it again? Especially when Dvalin had been so badly corrupted by the event...
And what would become of himself? Those who dealt with Durin in the past hadn’t had a reputation of making it out whole. The smith who created Festering Desire had been driven mad. Dvalin had been poisoned in the mind and heart and became only known as Stormterror. Even Durin himself was a corruption created by Rhinedottir. What would become of Albedo himself in the end, by fulfilling his duty to his Master?
...He didn’t wish to dwell on that much more.
“...Rhinedottir,” he mumbled into the silence, “are you still out there? Watching, and waiting for me to fulfill my final task? I’ve discovered my meaning. The meaning of my life... Is this all I was created for? To preserve your own legacy in chalk, and bring back your primordial life?”
Not a single soul in all of Mondstadt. The sky was still orange and yellow. Not a Hilichurl, Slime, or Adventurer to be seen.
“...Perhaps, we can be reunited,” he muttered. “And then... It can be like it once was. We can find Klee and Alice as well, and we can be a family... We’ll be happy this time. I’m sure of it.”
He was sure of it. He was sure of it. He was sure of it.
...Wasn’t he?
This was his duty. What he was meant to do. From soil is birthed chalk. From chalk is birthed primordial life. He is chalk. He must be the one to bring back Rhinedottir’s legacy.
This was his duty.
So why did it all feel so wrong?
...Despite Dragonspine’s distance from the city, he had come upon it in almost no time at all. The camp at its foot was empty. How much of Teyvat was empty now, he wondered. If he were to go to Liyue, would he be alone there as well? What of the other nations? Sumeru, Fontaine, Natlan? Inazuma and Snezhnaya?
...He was alone, wasn’t he? That was all there was to it. He was alone, he always was. First Rhinedottir had left him, and then Alice had too. And now he was the only one left in the world.
...But that wasn’t quite right either. Because Albedo wasn’t the only one left. It was him and Durin as well. And soon, it would be him, Durin, and his Master. His family by blood.
But what of his city in the end?
...He found himself rather quickly picking up the pace.
Down the Snow-Covered Path. He passed the Frostbearing Tree, which glowed a brilliant red against the white snow, melting some of the white around it. Despite how Dragonspine was known for its sheer cold, he still felt nothing at all beyond the warmth of the glass bottle against his chest. His chest was still as he walked. Had one not known better, they’d likely be concerned at him not breathing, and yet it wasn’t quite an issue to him. He wasn’t quite as human as the rest, and while he didn’t mind breathing to blend in, all the cold did was hurt his lungs. And it wasn’t as if anyone else was around to judge.
He wasn’t quite as human. He was chalk. The rest of the Knights quite simply were not. They didn’t understand him. Not like Durin did. Not like Rhinedottir did. Could they ever understand?
They breathed the same air. The same blood flowed through their veins. But they were not the same.
They do it because they must. They do it because they are human, and that is all they’ve ever been.
He does it because he is chalk. He does it because a human just like them is all he wishes to be.
But he was never human like them at all, now was he?
My heart. My life.
“...I’m coming,” he whispered to the air around him. “...I’m coming, brother.”
And somehow, the words had felt so wrong yet so right.
He wasn’t sure if it was just him, but the passage of time seemed all too skewed. Shouldn’t the sun have come up by now? And even so, the sun still hung in the sky, half-risen. But as he stepped foot into Wyrmrest Valley, the air had grown a tinge colder. How odd, he found it, that he hadn’t yet begun to fall victim to it. He had hardly stopped by any of the fires on the way, and even his coat couldn’t hold off the weather for that long. Perhaps it was Durin’s doing.
Find me. My heart. My life.
He shut his eyes for a moment, clutching the bottle tighter. And then, once more did he begin his trek forward.
The size of the bones that encased Wyrmrest Valley couldn’t quite be placed in words. They were almost like a cage of some sort, and Albedo wasn’t entirely sure if he felt comforted or disconcerted by their presence. He took a turn, and suddenly, his vision was filled with red light. As he entered the cave, he hesitated just a few feet inside.
The grass was red, the walls were red, the crystals were red. Everything was red. And at the end of the cave, there it was. A heart, far bigger than he was, still beating despite the bitter cold.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
My life. My life. My life.
The voice had grown louder now, echoing in the cave and around him. He edged another step forward, and the voice only grew louder in turn.
Thump.
My life.
One step.
Thump.
My life.
Another.
My life. My life. My life.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
He had to stop himself about halfway through the cave. Because every step made the voice grow louder, and now his brain was starting to protest. A headache had returned in the back of his skull, eyes pricked with tears.
“...Stop it- I can’t-”
My life. My life. My-
“Stop-”
The voice didn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop shouting. His life. His life. His life. The thumping of the beating heart. That’s all he wanted. He wanted his life. And by now, despite every instinct in his mind screaming otherwise, Albedo was in no position to say no.
“FINE!” he shouted, eyes wrenched shut as he only saw red. “You want it!? TAKE IT!”
And with that, he threw the glass bottle with as much force as he could muster against the back wall. Right next to the heart.
A crash and the glass had shattered, fragments on the ground shimmering red light. The energy from within hadn’t been affected by the gravity, it seemed, as it hovered in the air before disappearing into the heart itself.
The voice fell silent. The heart, in turn, beat louder.
Move.
He shuffled back, digging his heel into the red-tinted dirt for a moment before turning around and bolting.
This was wrong, he realized. His eyes were heavy. The sky was orange and yellow and red . And as he ran, he knew not where he was going, but he knew something else.
The snow. It was melting. The cold was disappearing. That never happened on Dragonspine, it hadn’t for as long as anyone knew.
He had barely made it out of the skeletal cage encasing Wyrmrest Valley when suddenly the ground began to shake. He stumbled over his own feet, knees hitting the dirt. Not the snow. The dirt. He forced himself to stand, but it seemed impossible as nearly all sense of coordination had left his body. He only managed to turn and fall backward. The ground didn’t stop shaking. And that’s when he saw it.
The black dragon rising from its tomb.
“...Durin.”
A skeletal head had raised, one with no eyes to be seen. Of course, he didn’t have eyes. His eyes had become part of Aether’s blade. His blood had become the soil of the mountain.
From soil is birthed chalk. From chalk is birthed primordial life.
Goldson.
For a moment, as the great beast stood, the world had fallen still. The sun hadn’t moved. The world was orange and yellow. The cold was gone. Everything had grown numb. He was tired.
“...I gave you your life,” he muttered breathlessly, “now give me back my family.”
We aren’t brothers.
“...What-?”
I don’t have to listen to you.
He recognized those words. Those thoughts. His own from however long ago.
My family is not with my blood.
Skeletal wings spread through the sky, casting dark shadows upon the world. There was no flesh, no blood. Only bone. And within the chest, he could see it. A still-beating heart, held only by sinews.
The creature reared back its head, and Albedo’s eyes widened as the world was engulfed in the orange and yellow flames.
The ground matched the sky. He should’ve known.
He tried to stand and run, but his legs gave out from under him. His family never stayed, not then and not now.
Blood is thicker than water. But the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb.
The world fell to fire. And soon enough, a nothingness followed suit.
Moments later, the nothingness was his own room.
He jerked up into a sitting position. He heard the pounding of a heart. The room was lit orange and yellow. Fire, the heart, his mind shouted, Durin is here-
But then, his eyes had caught sight of the Vision on the opposite side of the room by the wall, pulsing the orange and yellow light. The heart, he realized, was his own. It was still late, wasn’t it? With a slow movement, he slipped out of bed. He didn’t bother with a full outfit, but retrieved his coat and slipped it on, approaching the wall and taking his Vision. It was warm to the touch, just like the glass bottle had been.
...The bottle. The life force-
A sword appeared in his hand as he took a wavering breath, slipping out of his room with silent footsteps. His knuckles were white around the blade’s grip.
He first moved towards the room next door, hovering silently in front of the door before slipping it open, peering inside. On the bed, with the blankets half-off, Klee was sleeping soundly. He breathed a sigh of relief, slipping inside. The room was just like you’d expect from a child’s bedroom, really. Drawings on the walls, stuffed toys scattered across the bed and floor, and a few bombs she was working on in the corner. Nothing too unusual.
He slipped forward, tucking the blankets back over the young girl with his free hand, gently ruffling her hair before slipping back out of the room. Klee didn’t stir from sleep.
Then, he started his way down the stairs, still on edge. Down to the third floor. He approached a door- his own lab. And carefully, he opened the door, drawing closer to his desk.
The bottle was still there, just as he had left it. And this time, the words on his papers seemed to make sense.
Just as quickly as Albedo came did he leave. He didn’t want to stick around. Not anywhere near that damned bottle.
Down a few more flights of stairs. Sword still in hand. This was the moment of truth, really. As he hit about halfway down the steps, though- a voice spoke out.
“Albedo? Is everything alright, sir?”
At first, he had gone tense, until he saw just who had spoken. One of the night shift guards.
“...Is Master Jean in?”
“...It’s about three in the morning, sir- she took an early night with Ms. Lisa last I heard.”
“...And- and the city? Is everything alright?”
“...Why, yes,” muttered the guard, a rather perplexed expression at Albedo’s questions. “If anything major had occurred, surely we would’ve heard.”
“...Right,” Albedo breathed. “...Have a good night, then.”
And the guard gave a nod as Albedo turned to go back upstairs. “You too, sir.”
As he walked back up the stairs, he didn’t know what to make of it. The entire experience... Reviving Durin, the voices, the disappearance of an entire city- it couldn’t have been just a dream, right?
...And yet, it made sense. The dreamlike haze he had felt. The inability to make out words. Time didn’t pass in quite a linear fashion. Durin had been repeating his own thoughts back to him.
It was a dream.
It wasn’t real.
And yet, he still found himself slipping into the lab, flipping the sign on the door to say Experiment In Progress for a bit of privacy in case anyone came. His sword disappeared from his grip, and he leaned against the wall by the door, sliding down to the floor. A sob built in his throat until he couldn’t hold it back any longer.
It was a dream. A dream. He shouldn’t be scared of a dream.
The glow of his Vision. The beating of his heart.
If one day, I lose control. Destroy Mondstadt... Destroy everything ... What if no one is there to stop me?
...Albedo didn’t get any more sleep that night.
He had spent the next hours until sunrise in his lab, though didn’t much have the energy to do anything whilst there. However, when sunrise hit, he found himself wandering to the roof access, staring out at the horizon.
He watched the sun until the sky turned blue if only to confirm the passage of time. Not a single voice echoed in his mind but his own.
It was just a dream.
So why did he still feel that dull ache in his chest?
It wasn’t a pain, no. But more an empty feeling, like someone had taken his heart and ripped it out and torn it to shreds. Given him the broken fragments as if that was supposed to make it all okay again. He didn’t know what to make of it. He didn’t know what to make of most emotions.
But... He had a feeling. Perhaps this emotion... Perhaps it was a yearning for something that would never be. Or mourning for something that never was at all.
He wasn’t sure what to make of it. So he slowly came down from the roof, slipping back to the third floor, intent on returning to his lab, if not for the familiar voice.
“Mister Albedo?”
He didn’t even have to turn his gaze to know who it was, and he couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief at the familiarity, especially after the events of the night prior.
“...Sucrose,” he greeted, finally turning his head. “...How did you sleep?”
“I- I sleep pretty well, Mister Albedo,” she answered, ears perked up slightly. “And- how about you...?”
“...I’m- afraid I wasn’t able to fulfill my end of the deal,” he quietly admitted, furrowing his brow as his gaze turned away. “...I’m sorry.”
She tilted her head, though didn’t seem mad. Albedo wasn’t entirely convinced she was capable of being mad. But surprisingly to him, she didn’t appear disappointed or sad, either.
“...Did something happen?”
“...Just a dream that nudged me the wrong way. Nothing major.”
“...Hm,” she hummed, looking to the wall for a moment, a contemplative expression before looking back with slightly wider eyes. “...Why don’t you- you could come to my lab for a bit... I- I know I don’t like to be alone after bad dreams...”
His eyes widened, and for a moment, he silently stared. Sucrose’s face quickly flushed, and she looked away, ears drooping. “I- I’m sorry- I- overstepped my boundaries, didn’t-”
“No, no-” Albedo waved his hands, shaking his head- “I just didn’t expect the offer, was all... I- think I’d like that a lot.”
A few stunned seconds of silence and Sucrose nodded. Quickly, she had shuffled off, beckoning for Albedo to follow. As he walked after the fellow alchemist, he had realized how much more comfortable he had felt in the girl’s presence. Sucrose was... Familiar. They shared quite a few things in common: a passion for alchemy, for example, despite how they practiced different forms of it. Compared to most others, he didn’t feel as pressured to conform to how people typically viewed a relationship.
Relationships were... Complicated. They had to be kept up, and if you lost time, you had to rebuild them. They always felt like two steps back and one step forward. But with Sucrose, they somehow shared the same sentiments.
...Perhaps that is why Durin had targeted her. Because she was the only other person who understood him, even if she hardly knew anything about who he really was.
He tried to shake his mind away from thoughts of the dream again as he was led into Sucrose’s lab. Compared to Albedo’s, hers could almost be called fantastical. It always smelled of Sweet Flowers and Dandelions, and currently, he could’ve sworn he detected Wolfhook as well. Perhaps a recent experiment. Displays of bones laid across the walls and strewn across tables, though one table, in particular, held a plethora of neatly stacked papers and binders. Sort of an odd combination of a greenhouse and a museum, one that he somehow didn’t find peculiar at all. She surely had an organized method to her madness.
He let his eyes wander for a moment before turning back to Sucrose. “...You’ve been working on something with Wolfhooks?”
“O-oh, um, yes-! I was- I overheard Barbara from the Cathedral speaking to Master Jean about always having to look for Red Wolfhooks, so... I wanted to see if- if I could make larger ones with the same medicinal properties, so she- she wouldn’t have to look so much! So far, it’s- well... They’re bigger, but- their potency just isn’t as much...”
As she spoke, she wandered over to one of the potted plants, lifting it into her arms and moving back over. There seemed to be a small Wolfhook plant going with berries far too big for its branches. Albedo couldn’t help but let out a snort, shaking his head.
“...Perhaps you should try to give the plant enough strength to hold the berries before you focus on their medicinal properties. It won’t do Barbara much good if her bushes keep breaking themselves.”
Sucrose’s eyes widened as she looked down at the plant, humming before nodding. “...I hadn’t even- you- you’re right... That was- an oversight on my part... I’ll have to look into doing that in Project 6, Trial 19!”
As she wandered to put the plant back, he let out a quiet sigh, letting his expression drop for a moment. The room didn’t have any windows apart from one curtained one (Sucrose didn’t exactly care to have anyone trying to look inside her lab), leaving his Vision and hers as rather potent light sources besides the lamps in the room.
An orange glow. The beating of his heart.
It was just a dream. It was hours ago, but the sight of her empty lab and the voice of Durin was still as fresh in his mind as ever. He turned his gaze towards the desk of notes, finding himself wandering over. He was loosely aware of a voice in the background, though not quite aware enough to tell what it may have been saying.
...Find me, find them. Find me, find them. That’s what he had said, so many times. His heart, his life, his brother , find me, find them-
“...Mister Albedo?”
His gaze snapped over, eyes wide.
“...Sorry,” he muttered, “I- must’ve gotten distracted... Were you saying something?”
Sucrose had frowned, tilting her head as she approached. “...I- know I can’t force you to say what your dream was about... But-”
She had moved to draw something out of her pocket. A small circular candy in twisted plastic, not all that unlike something you’d find for a handful of Mora at the General Goods store.
“...I- I made it myself, with Sweet Flower nectar... They- they always help me focus when I’m feeling stressed...”
He tilted his head for a moment, and couldn’t help but give a soft smile, taking the candy and unwrapping it. A simple spherical shape, the color of the aforementioned Sweet Flowers that matched the almost-comforting scent of the room. “...Thank you,” he said before popping the small thing in his mouth. A few moments of silence passed.
“...Do you- do you like it...?”
“...It’s rather nice,” he admitted. “You did a good job bringing out the sweetness.”
Sucrose’s face lit up at the praise, ears once again perking up, and his own smile only grew slightly wider as he crumpled the wrapper in his hand, eyeing the trash can before approaching and tossing it out.
...It was just a dream, he reminded himself, though this time it wasn’t out of fear. His family was right here. His family was safe. His family wasn’t with the blood of his brother, but with the water of his city.
He turned to Sucrose, wearing a grin.
“...Now- I may not specialize in bio-alchemy as you do, but... what do you say I assist you with those Red Wolfhooks?”
“...R-right! We’ll get it right this time, I’m sure!”
This was his home. His family. And that knowledge alone was far sweeter than any candy.