Chapter Text
The barrel explodes in a flurry of bright sparks as Aether watches from behind a crate, Paimon hovering nearby.
“Woah, that was so cool!” the little pixie-pest shrieks, and Aether glances at her with mild annoyance. “Be quiet,” he whispers, but the exhaustion in his bones keeps him from saying much more. Just gotta get this job done, he thinks with a sigh, and that should be all for the day.
“Come on, Aether! Isn’t it cool? Isn’t it??” Paimon continues to whine as Aether shakes his head and unsheathes his sword, jumping out from his hiding spot and swinging it at the unruly hilichurls.
Although it’s effective, the traveler’s fighting has less calculation than it usually does, perhaps because of the routine of the act or how tired Aether feels. Every day he chases after endless people, fighting monsters, destroying camps, and even delivering stupid letters, and still there are no leads to his sister. Aether frowns and his expression goes sour as he kills the few remaining monsters aggressively.
“You okay?” Paimon asks, put off by his bad mood. Aether probably isn’t, but he takes a breath and plasters a smile on his face, because he’s the honorary knight and the fabled traveler and he’s not allowed to be angry or tired.
“Yeah, I’m just fine. Let’s go back to Liyue and report to the Adventurer’s Guild.”
“Woohoo, can we get some food too?!” Paimon says in a way that makes it clear this is not a question but a request. As she does she flips in the air, Aether shakes his head and lets his shoulders slouch. How does Paimon have so much energy all the time?
Aether, for one, can hardly wait to flop onto any remotely soft surface and sleep the day away.
However, before he can even elaborate upon this wish, the sound of clashing and fighting directs his attention. His body stiffens as he turns toward the sound and stares past the craggy rock outcroppings. He can see what appears to be a monster camp, which is nothing unusual, but something about the situation makes him feel uneasy.
“What’s up?” Paimon asks, turning around in circles. “Did you see something?” After a second of thought, she adds, “Is it edible?”
Aether shakes his head and shushes her, pushing her back with his arm. “There’s something weird going on at that monster base,” he mutters. “I’m gonna check it out.”
As he gets closer the sound of fighting increases. He can hear the battle cries of hilichurls and the chanting of abyss mages. Abyss mages are never a good thing, Aether thinks with a sigh as he starts to make his way over.
Over his thousands of years traveling with his sister, (but perhaps, more notably, over the couple months he’s spent in this insane world), Aether has seen many shocking things. Yet as he steps onto an outcropping and sees the full scene unfolding below him, even he is struck dumb.
There, in the middle of the monster base, is Childe, lying on the floor unconscious and being danced over by at least three separate abyss mages. All Aether can do is blink as he looks at the battle-hungry Harbinger, a deep stab wound in the redhead’s shoulder and a laceration on the side of his abdomen.
“What is this idiot doing?” Aether whispers, unable to help himself. All he wants is to report on his commission, check in with Zhongli about the Rite of Departure, and go HOME.
But he can’t just leave Childe. All morality and friendliness aside, he owes the man at least three million mora, and Zhongli would surely be upset if he hears of this later.
“Aether, you gotta help!” Paimon says in Aether’s ear, sounding worried. “What happened to Childe?”
“I don’t know, but I’ll save him, don’t worry,” Aether replies, drawing his sword again and bracing his body. Just this one battle, and he can rest, he promises himself. Then he leaps into the camp and starts chasing the monsters away from Childe.
Dealing with the hillichurls is easy enough, but the abyss mages prove to be as much of a nuisance as they usually are, maybe even more so. A hydro abyss mage makes a shield and throws bubbles at Aether as a pyro and cryo mage team up and attempt to blast him with both elements at once. The creatures, having some semblance of intelligence to them, are rather difficult to handle, especially with three of them and only one exhausted Aether.
Aether runs in and strikes the pyro mage down, but the cryo mage takes the chance to shoot him with shards of cryo ice. He gasps as burning cold runs down his back, and his pause allows the pyro mage to get up and blast fire from the front. The two elements mix and cause a horrible burning along his body; stars fill his vision and he thinks maybe he’s gonna end up with Childe on the floor before he pulls himself together. Forcing his arms up, he runs at the pyro abyss mage and swings at it viciously, running straight into its fire attack. The element burns at his body but he doesn’t take notice, knocking it down with several heavy and desperate stabs. Then he whirls around wildly and swings at the dead mage’s partner, getting several cryo shards stabbed into his arms. The cryo mage tries to make a shield, but before it can Aether launches at it and uses his momentum to drive the sword through its body.
He crouches on the floor, panting, his entire body sore both inside and outside. The exhaustion seeps into his bones and leaves him heavy. Aether actually can’t remember the last time he slept, and because of how tired he is, he fails to remember or notice the remaining hydro abyss mage until it stabs a spear into his side.
Aether whirls around and gasps, still in his crouching position, as the mage floats around him gleefully and waves its miniature weapon. The wound isn’t deep and doesn’t bleed, but for some reason its pain is severe and leaves Aether unable to stand.
“Since when do abyss mages have weapons? What happened to its wand?” Paimon asks from somewhere above Aether, and with a stab of panic he realizes she is still here and in the open.
“Paimon, leave!” he hisses urgently, grabbing his side and trying to stand up. “It’s not safe here. Try to find Zhongli, okay? I think he and Childe are friends.”
“What? Alright!” Paimon squieks, sounding frightened by Aether’s strained voice. As she floats away the traveler’s vision begins to go black and the pain pulsates, seeming to increase in intensity and spread further up his body.
“Alright, pull yourself together,” Aether whispers to himself, exhaling tensely. “One breath in, one breath out. The pain will go away.”
He can hear the hydro mage spout its nonsense somewhere near him, and the sound enrages him. He just wants to kill the wretched thing and be over with it, so he readies his entire body and takes a deep breath, forcing himself into a standing position. At first the pain is excruciating and he sways on his feet, but he grabs onto a rock nearby and it slowly fades away to a bearable ache.
Finally able to move, he finishes the mage off quickly.
Aether flops down onto the rock and dirt next to Childe and inspects the Harbinger’s wounds. It is clear that the stab wounds in his shoulder and abdomen aren’t from this group of monsters. He had probably fought a strong enemy previously and gotten attacked at this monster camp going home, too injured and drained to properly defend himself. Defeating these kinds of enemies would normally be nothing for Childe, and perhaps for Aether too.
Aether sighs and takes a moment to inspect his own wounds. The one from the abyss mage’s spear is rather shallow and looks insignificant, but slight pressure makes a throb go up to Aether’s head. The area around it seems numb and he feels waves of pain emanating from it and inching into the rest of his body.
This is peculiar, Aether thinks, clutching his side tenderly. Perhaps it's some kind of elemental magic, or maybe that weird spear was poisoned.
Aether sighs and gets himself off of the floor. He stares at Childe for a while before draping the Harbinger over his shoulders and beginning to tread toward the Statue of the Seven where Zhongli wanted them to meet. The redhead is surprisingly light, but he chafes against Aether’s injuries and exhausts his muscles further.
“Is that them?” Aether hears voices ahead of him and stares up as Paimon and Zhongli burst into his field of vision. “Oh dear, this doesn’t look good at all,” Zhongli says, frowning at the two boys. He approaches Aether and takes Childe into his own arms gently, looking down at the Harbinger for a second too long. “Ah, perhaps the closest place to go is Wangshu Inn,” he mutters to himself, seeming to consider something else but eventually pushing the idea away. “Let’s go.”
By the time they get to the Inn, Aether is more tired than he thought he ever could be. Zhongli quickly gets a room, and the group shuffles in. To Aether’s dismay, there is only one bed.
Zhongli places Childe on it and quickly turns around. “I’m getting medicine. Aether, can you get him comfortable? Paimon, you can come with me so as to not disturb them.”
Aether opens his mouth to object, to ask them to wait, to say that he’s tired, but by the time he’s formulated the words Zhongli is already gone, the door shutting firmly behind him.
Aether looks at Childe’s unconscious form and sighs. A weird pang of jealousy overcomes him, and for a second he desperately wishes he could take Childe’s place. As embarrassing as it is to get defeated by a bunch of common abyss mages and hilichurls, at least Childe has reached his limit, and as Aether looks down at him he thinks that the Harbinger looks peaceful. Aether’s limit does not seem to exist; he can’t take a break despite feeling like he can’t take anymore. For the second he thinks this, he lets anger and anguish fill him, and his vision goes blurry with tears.
Then sharp pain from the spear wound catches him off guard and he topples over, the world spinning around him. A blinding headache throbs behind his eyes and he grabs his head, letting out a low groan. Tears start to drip down his face as he slumps down. His extremities feel freezing cold and his head very very hot, and his legs tingle and seem to float away from him as he forgets who he is.
Aether is almost relieved as his thoughts go muddled and murky and the sensation of the floor drops out below him. Finally he can rest, he thinks, sighing and leaning into the sensation of nothing.
Then he thinks he sees a flash of green above him, and he forces one eye open, his vision blurry and doubled.
“Aether?” the person says in a familiar voice, but Aether can’t remember who he is.
“Aether? Can you hear me?”
He blinks groggily at the person. This has to be someone he knows, someone good, but who? The person’s green hair hurts his eyes and his head pounds too much, so Aether relaxes again.
“Hey, don’t pass out. Don’t pass out, you hear me?”
But Aether really wants to sleep. All he wants to do is melt into the sensation and sleep and sleep forever.
So he does.
“Shit,” Xiao mutters, staring at the blonde boy crumpled beneath his feet and then the redhead lying in bed. He sighs. Mortals are so fragile, and he wants to believe that is the only reason for his disconcertment.
He picks up Aether gently in his arms, the boy light as his head flops against Xiao’s shoulder. Aether feels alarmingly hot to the touch, and his breath sounds strained as he grimaces. Xiao shakes his head and looks around the room, but there is nothing aside from the occupied bed and a few plush chairs. He carries the boy to the biggest one he can find.
Xiao knows he needs to examine Aether’s injuries, but he’s hesitant to touch the traveler in such a vulnerable state. He decides to start from the obvious injury on his abdomen; it is not bleeding and appears to be rather shallow. “I could patch it up with a first aid kit,” Xiao thinks, and goes to get it when something unusual catches his attention. The wound is slightly discolored around the edges. It’s faint enough that it’s difficult to catch. Xiao comes closer and examines it more thoroughly, his eyebrows furrowing. There is an unmistakable tint of green around the edge of the wound, and it feels even warmer than the rest of Aether’s body. As his fingers brush against the discoloration, a faint tingle spreads up Xiao’s hands.
“Was the idiot poisoned?” Xiao mutters to himself as something uneasy starts to bloom in his chest. This substance looks familiar. He’s been through many wars and seen many injuries, of course, but something about this is off.
He racks his brain, trying to place what this reminds him of, when Aether lets out a pained gasp, his eyes still screwed shut. The boy moans and his arm twitches toward the stab wound. Xiao winces at the expression of pain on the young boy’s face. He doesn’t deserve to suffer so much when he’s only a mortal.
And then, shit, mortal, and Xiao remembers what this is. He only has enough time to stumble backwards before a flash runs through his head and his brain implodes into itself. He doesn’t question why Aether could be affected by this, or how; only one thought runs through his head.
He has to warn Zhongli.