Archive of Our Own ^beta

Liyue Harbor, August 12th, XXXX

My dearest sister;

I hope this letter finds you well. I am very pleased to finally be writing you with good news to tell. As of this moment, preparations for the upcoming voyage have finally come to a close, and I will at long last be sea bound the morn after next. Now that we've finally reached this point, I must admit I'm rather anxious to set off. Though it was not my intention to dwell so long in Liyue Harbor, it has become very comfortable these last few weeks. I will quite miss the balmy evenings, strolling through Yujing Terrace and taking in the sights of the city down below, cast orange by the glow of the lanterns. The glaze lilies bloom and face moonward in the evenings, and as they open their petals to the sky, they give off a pleasant, mild aroma that clears my mind and makes me think of home. The scent is a bit reminiscent of calla lilies, and the subtle effervescence of the flowers in bloom reminds me of the glow of lamp grass in the forest.

Forgive me, Klee. You know how my pen is liable to drift in these letters. I've just found that things like these don't always translate perfectly into the sketches I send you. Nevertheless, I think you would like it here. Perhaps one day, under better circumstances, we can return here together. Although I would hope that when that day comes, it will no longer be just the two of us.

I have to admit, this whole investigation thus far has made me more than a bit nostalgic… not to mention homesick. I'm hoping my delays in travel will not hinder my search. The lead awaiting me in Inazuma still promises to be a strong one. 

The company Alice led into Inazuma has not yet been checked out of Ritou, and the borders of their nation are still under tight control of the Tenryou Commission. Albeit, Alice has no doubt achieved much more impressive feats than merely sneaking out of customs unnoticed. But it is promising, nonetheless. At the very least, I am hopeful that if it has been this difficult for me to get into Inazuma, it is likely to be just as bothersome getting back out.

Sailors here are certainly wary of the task. They speak of bad blood on the waters, of terrible storms and roaring thunder sent down by the Raiden Shogun herself to smite demons that seek to breach their borders. But I have finally convinced a competent lot of sailors to accept the commission, though I still hear whispers of monsters and curses fall from their lips as they clutch good luck charms to their chests and grit their teeth to the sea.

I am not concerned. Most of the men are reassured by my confidence, though some still mutter that it very well may spell my doom. And perhaps I do find the stories a bit too intriguing. As much as I am still focused on discovering Alice's whereabouts, these rumors have piqued my curiosity. I think I should like to sail these waters, and see first hand the catalyst of fear that has nestled in the breasts of even the most weather-beaten of sailors. Perhaps it is less than they think. Or perhaps it is more. This trip could be far more enlightening than I initially expected it to be.

You will probably not hear from me for a while, Klee, until I am back on solid ground. If it is not too much, I ask that you continue to keep me in your thoughts during my travels. Though certainly not for fear of my safety. It would simply bring me much comfort to gaze up at the stars and imagine that you are looking at the same ones.

I think Alice would probably be watching them, as well. 

Barbatos willing, I will find out soon enough.

I shall leave you now with my best wishes, as well as a few more sketches I thought you might enjoy. I had also planned on sending you a souvenir, one of Liyue's own spectacular handcrafted fireworks, but I fear that explosives are a bit too difficult to get through customs. Just another reason to plan for a more leisurely trip to the city, I suppose. I am already looking forward to that in our future.

Sincerely yours,
Albedo Kreideprinz

Ritou, Narukami Island, September 9th, XXXX

My dear sister,

My sincerest apologies for not having a chance to write sooner. The voyage to Inazuma was certainly an arduous one, but also one that did not disappoint. I have much to tell you.

We arrived in Ritou's port in the sights of a hurricane, and it  required us to shelter in place immediately. I can only hope that by the time this letter can be sent out, I will already be on my way to making more progress in my search. I will, of course, keep in contact with you regarding any and all crucial developments.

Even with the rough sea at our backs, the ship and crew that brought us here managed to come through unscathed. We suffered no significant losses or casualties on the journey.

In fact, we arrived in Ritou with one more passenger than we started out with.

A little over a week ago, we found ourselves in the center of a particularly dreadful storm. We fared well, but other vessels were not so lucky. It was two days after the storm that one of the men suddenly called out from the bow, warning of debris in our path. As we approached, it became obvious that it was the aftermath of another vessel’s wreckage. But it was much more than that. There, clinging to waterlogged driftwood tied together with frayed riggings, was a man.

He did not respond when called to, but he was alive. We made haste in pulling him onto the ship. I had the men assist me in hauling him to my quarters to recover, while those on deck kept watch for the remainder of the wreckage, and of any other survivors. But there was nothing else to be found.

That first day, we were only able to rouse him for long enough to offer him our rations. He was a wild-eyed, frantic man in consciousness, wordlessly shoveling in food and guzzling down water before exhaustion overtook him again. This was to be forgiven, of course; the man had spent nearly forty-eight hours adrift at sea under the merciless scrutiny of the late-summer sun. I was awestruck that he had made it as long as he did. Since the crew had their duties on the ship to attend to, I volunteered to nurse the poor man back to lucidity. I spent nearly the whole day at his side, and he awoke a few times more under my vigil. I offered him more rations, which he still desperately accepted each time. I attempted to communicate with him, not expecting to have much luck. He was incapable of offering me any responses, and would simply drift back into unconsciousness with no recognition that I had spoken. But at the end of the night, after rising to take a few vigorous gulps more from the water I provided to him, he lingered in wakefulness for a bit longer than the norm. For the first time, he looked at me. His eyes were crimson, and as unruly as brush fire. I took the opportunity to simply introduce myself. After all, how disorienting must it be to be in the throes of a man's most basic instincts, with not a single friendly face in sight? The fact that he had been rescued would mean nothing to him, in that state. I was the stranger that had saved his life, but a stranger nonetheless.

He had heard me. I could see it in his eyes, and I saw his gaze falter in confusion, as if he was only just remembering his own sentience. He spoke then, and despite having just had a drink, his voice came out hoarse from a cotton throat.

"Dottore," he rasped.

I just assumed (correctly, I would discover the following day) this was his name , so I told him it was a pleasure to know him. Before I could say anything else, he drifted off again. I decided it best to leave him, at that point. There was nothing else to say that couldn't wait until his wits had returned to him.

The next few days preceding our arrival in Ritou, Dottore recovered from his ordeal. He gradually regained his strength, as well as his senses, but it only served to make his presence out on that sea all the more mysterious. He was still wary of me, and many of my questions went without complete answers. I informed him that no other survivors or bodies save for his own had been spotted at sea, nor did we find any more debris from his shipwreck. He simply said that there would be no other survivors to find, and that the wreckage he had clung to was likely all that was left - the ship was small, and he was the only passenger. This made his survival all the more impressive. I asked him where he set sail from, and he declined to answer. He only said he had been en route to Inazuma when the storm overtook him.

Despite his insistence that he had been sailing alone, a day before we arrived in Ritou, he took me aside quite suddenly and asked me if our vessel had encountered any other souls on our journey. We had not, but I found the question rather curious. I pushed just a little further; I asked him the meaning of his urgency, if he had been the sole passenger aboard his ship.

He hesitated, eyes darting around to assure that no others were around. The feral spark in his eyes had only marginally lessened since that first day; it had been something that caught my intrigue before. I had initially thought his frenetic energy to merely be an extension of delirium. But even as his faculties returned to him, still he had such a lively, eccentric air about him, and that untamed glint in his eyes. And it had never been more interesting to me than when he began speaking again.

"I was," Dottore answered gruffly, setting his jaw. "This man would not have been a companion of mine. He was also traveling alone."

Needless to say, this piqued my interest. I asked him, "How can you be sure that this man truly exists? Coming across one lone man in the clutches of a violent sea is peculiar enough. Why would we have across two?"

Dottore wrung his hands, his gaze shifting again. Then, he simply asked me this: "Do you believe in the concept of immortality, Kreideprinz?"

I raised an eyebrow at him.

Very interesting indeed.

He went on to explain himself. The story he told was truly fascinating.

Dottore said that he was in the business of chasing immortality. More specifically, he sought after immortal beings of legend, ones that he earnestly claimed walked among man in the modern age: vampires. He described them as wicked, bloodthirsty creatures, eternally meandering the countryside in search of prey. It is man they hunt for, and their cunning knows no bounds. They can seamlessly integrate themselves into human society, discreetly spreading their wicked tendrils throughout the land. They feast, but they also spread their immortal curse to those victims foolish enough to yearn for it. With an ever-growing army of the undead, this is how they keep their finger on the pulse of Teyvat, humanity's very lifeblood comfortably cupped in the palm of their hands.

This is what he said, anyway. I, of course, made my skepticism well known. I asked him how he could know of these things, and assume them to be true. Dottore simply responded that he was the cure for this inhuman plague; he was a hunter of vampires, and had been for many decades. He sought out the beasts, and one by one, he put the cursed beings to rest. 

He went on to tell me that this was the explanation for his being alone at sea. Back in Liyue, he had tracked down a particularly cunning vampire. He masqueraded as a simple vagrant without a name, but Dottore had become aware of his identity as an unholy predator of the night, after several weeks of investigation into the wake of slaughter that was left in the wanderer's path. The vampire in question was called Scaramouche. Somewhere along the way, this being had caught onto the vampire hunter's prying, and had fled for the sea just before Dottore was able to secure the upper hand. Dottore, unwilling to let him escape, continued to follow his trail. He knew Scaramouche would be heading for his homeland, one of the islands of Inazuma, though he did not know which one. He did not have the luxury of taking his time to arrange a proper crew for the voyage, so he simply hopped onto the first dinghy he could find and prayed for safe passage. He was beginning to think that his prayers had been disregarded, up until our crew found him. But though it was exceedingly fortunate that our vessel did pick him up, the fact of the matter was that he had lost a lot of ground in the process. Now it seemed that Scaramouche was far beyond arm's reach.

I simply accepted his tale at face value, for the time being, and simply repeated that no other vessel or soul had been seen. He grimaced at me.

"It's of the utmost importance that I find him again," Dottore said. "He can't be allowed to escape."

"With how long you were adrift, it's very likely he already has," I replied matter-of-factly. "And what makes you so sure that this Scaramouche would have eluded the storm himself? I suspect even a creature like that would be at the mercy of nature, in that position."

Dottore crossed his arms and let out a dry laugh. "That rat bastard wouldn't have gone down that easily." But he looked more pensive, then, anxiously drumming his fingers against his own arm.

"How so?" I inquired, a bit of humor to my voice. "Are these beasts you seek also amphibious in nature? Could he have perhaps made himself a home at the bottom of the sea?"

"You don't believe me." Dottore commented with a scowl. He did not sound surprised.

"That is not necessarily the case, my friend," I said amicably. "I am merely curious. Though I hope you could forgive a bit of incredulousness; it's quite the tale to take in all at once. Though I've certainly heard stranger tales than that that ended up being true. I'm a rather inquisitive man by nature, Dottore. I am certainly not in the business of dismissing the unknown, not when there is merit to stripping away the mystery that surrounds it."

"And what merit would you require to consider it worth your while?"

"I do not know, truthfully. Though perhaps your word alone is enough. I would need a bit of time to process what you've told me."

Dottore looked troubled. "Believe what you will. It doesn't matter. It appears I'll have to start from the beginning, the moment we anchor in Ritou. I thank you for your hospitality, but I cannot afford to dawdle any longer. As soon as we are in port, I will be taking my leave. I cannot let Scaramouche escape again."

Of course, Klee, you already know what position we found ourselves upon landing in Ritou. Dottore was prevented from making a hasty retreat out of the port, as we all were. We all simply found our own lodgings, and prepared to hunker down through the worst of the storm.

However, I did keep my word to him. I continued to think about what he told me. So before retiring to my own quarters to begin writing this letter, I sought him out in his. I spoke with him thusly:

"Since we both are hanging here in suspense, I wanted to propose something to you, Dottore. As I said before, I am a very inquisitive man in nature, and as such, your story has not given me rest. You're a fascinating man, and I would like to know more about you and the monsters you seek. And as it turns out, I have someone I am looking for as well. My search thus far has enlightened me to many arcane mysteries in this world. I am no stranger to the unknown, and you do not seem to be either. To put it simply, I believe we may be of assistance to each other. So I come here to implore that you reconsider your course of action. Allow me to join in on your investigation, and in return, I would hope you can assist with my own. I believe that with our knowledge combined, we will both be able to find what we are looking for."

Dottore considered this for a long while. Finally, he asked, "And why should your search be any concern of mine? Who is it that you seek, Kreideprinz?"

I told him. Not everything, of course; only the details worth knowing. I told him that Alice was someone very close to me, and that she had departed on a cryptic mission of her own design. I told him that Alice knew certain things that she would not speak aloud, even if it went against her best interest. I told him I needed to find her, so she would not continue to face this world alone. 

But more than the who, I told him the "what" of what I have been searching for.

"I seek the truth, my friend, whatever that may imply. I seek the meaning of this world."

Dottore gave me a cautious, studious stare then. But I could still see that spark in his eyes; the spark that told me all I needed to know. That this, too, was a man that sought truth. An inquisitive man, with eyes like wildfire and a fervor for knowledge to match.

He agreed to my proposition. I smiled at him, and extended my hand out to him. He looked at it a bit warily, but accepted it. We shook on our newfound partnership.

Which brings us to now, my dear sister, as I sit and recall all of this for you. For the time being, my progress has been halted. But soon enough, I can begin my investigation anew, with quite a fascinating - and with any luck, invaluable - companion at my side. At the very least, I should enjoy getting to know more about him. I believe it will be quite the experience.

As I write this, I pray that you won’t worry for my safety. I do not delude myself; I have not yet dismissed the notion that this stranger may be dangerous. But I would hope you know I am more than capable of defending myself, should his motivations begin to come into question. However, I think you will understand my reasoning. I may be far less sociable than either you or your mother, but I do not consider myself to be a poor judge of character.

And there's just something about this man that is far too intriguing to ignore.

Nevertheless, I will be sure to update you of my progress frequently, now that I've made it back to dry land. I shall continue to write to you and let you know of any significant developments in my search. And now, it seems that an entirely new mystery will need to be illuminated, as well.

As always, Klee, I wish you nothing but the best. Even with these novel distractions, no intrigue can hold a candle to the notion of merely being at your side again. Please do feel free to write to me again, whenever you get the chance. I'm afraid that my time at sea has only made me all the more nostalgic for your company.

With my sincerest wishes and much love,
Albedo

Inazuma City, Narukami Island, November 2nd, XXXX

It was good to hear from you, Klee,

I unfortunately must report that there is not much more to say regarding Alice’s whereabouts. No new intel has come to me since I wrote to you the week before last, and the information I had turned out to lead me to yet another dead end. It seems as though she still hasn’t been seen since arriving in Inazuma. But again, I’m hopeful that this means she has not left. The storms plaguing this country are just as much of a hindrance as they have been since the beginning. It is still difficult to make it to the outlying islands, and most of them have been evacuated due to the persistent hurricanes. The nation simply feels barren, with very few souls to serve as a witness. And by the time I reach a point of interest, the rain seems to have already washed all evidence away. It is frustrating, but I have no choice but to continue pressing onward.

It is easy to feel more than just a bit discouraged by these issues, but, as always, receiving your letters always manages to bring a smile to my face, and fills me with newfound resolve. I thank you for taking the time to correspond with me like this. I appreciate it more than words could describe.

That being said, you certainly managed to throw me… quite the bizarre assortment of questions in response to the sketches I sent you. I will try to answer them the best I can, of course.

To start, Dottore is in more or less the same position as I am with my own investigation. He has not been able to find substantial evidence as to the particulars of Scaramouche's location. The both of us have little choice but to follow strings of hearsay spoken in hushed tones amongst the disenfranchised village folk, and they don't usually lead us very far. But it's easier to sift through the rumors with the two of us, and I hope he considers me as valuable an asset to his search as I do him. At the very least, his companionship alone has brought me solace in this arduous journey. This, too, I can only hope is a mutual feeling.

It has been difficult to break through his cagey exterior, but as of late, I believe I've been making progress. He's a rather antsy fellow, and I think the frustration of being constantly landlocked due to the severity of the Inazuman weather has been bothering him more than he cared to let on. But I've had to reserve myself to the fact that we are at the mercy of the elements in this situation, and it seems as if he finally has as well. He has relaxed around me, albeit fractionally, but I suspect running himself ragged is something he is wont to do. He reminds me much of Sucrose, in that aspect. They both seem to let their passions run far ahead of themselves, to the point where catching up to their own fervor presents itself as a daunting task. But this is something that I have always admired about Sucrose, as you well know, and this man is certainly no exception. Their goals may be far off on the horizon, but they never fall out of sight, and as such, their determination never falters.

Come to think of it, there's quite a lot about Dottore that makes me nostalgic for home.

I remember now, back when my crew and I parted ways, the captain had pulled me aside and expressed concern over my association with Dottore. He was one of those weather-worn, superstitious old seafarers. He said Dottore had the eyes of a man unhinged, of a wild animal trapped in a snare that would sooner chew off its own leg than dig up the peg in the ground that held it there. He said men like that were an ill omen, and that he would bring me nothing but misfortune on my journey from there on out. And this was without knowing what Dottore had confided to me in regards to his occupation; I can only imagine what the captain would have had to say about that . I simply thanked him for his input, but left it at that. I knew there was no sense in trying to change the mind of an old curmudgeon set in his ways, and anyway, I merely found it a bit amusing. How funny, how often two people can look at the same picture and come away with two completely different conclusions based on what they saw. The captain looked into those eyes and saw frantic desperation. I couldn't disagree more with him.

When I look into Dottore's eyes, I see a man who cannot be shaken. I see a man that knows what he wants, and will do anything he can to take it for his own. Perhaps that could be considered desperation, in a sense, but that seems like such a shallow interpretation of the things that drive people. I see in Dottore unswerving devotion and steadfast ambition. He is wild at heart, but not uncontrolled.

He's just a bit… eccentric. And I should know. I've come to know quite a few eccentrics in my days.

I think you would like him. Alice, too. Perhaps one day, you'll be able to meet him. Although that may just be wishful thinking. Beyond what we are both doing here, I have no way of knowing where his path may lead. Or mine, for that matter. Fate does have a tendency to twist and turn in unexpected ways. We will not know until we get there.

As for your other questions - well, let me just run through the list.

He hails from Fontaine, though he will not say where. He says it is not worthy of note; whether he genuinely believes this to be true or is simply still hesitant to talk about matters so personal remains to be seen. Regardless, he doesn't seem very fond of his homeland. He says the lights of the city are too bright, and the countryside too dull. I choose not to press him further than this. For all I know, it could just be as simple as that. This information is not so substantial to knowing him, anyway. He wears his nationality only in the sharp angles of his features, and in a slight accent that can only be heard when his passions run high. His home is not where he hails from, as it is often not. I can only hope he's found another home somewhere else along the way.

He has not said anything more about his profession than what is necessary. On this matter, I do tend to prod further than he will give. He will not say how he became involved in vampire hunting, or even how he discovered their existence in the first place. He only says that it has been like this for years - on the road, following rumors and paths of slaughter until he happens upon the source of it, until by his hand, the hunter becomes the hunted. He says it is necessary to put these monsters down, for the sake of humanity, but when he speaks of their cunning and mastery there is a certain amount of admiration to his tone. He has admitted to me that as he's come to know their kind, he's grown to find them awe-inspiring. He wishes to know the reason for their existence, the meaning of immortality in a mortal world. He says he believes that understanding that would help him more efficiently carry out his duties, but there is something beyond that that he will not say. Perhaps he just chooses not to admit that he has become enamored with these beasts after knowing them so intimately. I think that such a feeling would be only natural in time, though. Many scholars would claim that immortality is the clandestine state of being; that a life without death is the ultimate life. Man is naturally inclined to seek progress. It would only make sense to idealize a life eternal, and the very beings that personify this concept. Knowing him has made me myself consider things like this. If life as we know it naturally begets death, is immortality truly the next step to enlightenment? If so, then why is man hindered with this cycle of life and death to begin with? What is the meaning of life, if life must come to and end? And what would it be if there was no end in sight? It really is all quite fascinating to consider. I only wish my companion was as open to discussing such matters as I am. The topic always seems to make him uncomfortable.

Moving onto lighter matters, though: yes, he does know about you. It's difficult not to bring you up, being so far from home, so I'm sure by this time he's had more than his fill of my sentimental droning. Although if he's grown tired of it, he doesn't let on. There's much downtime between points of our investigations, and while deeper personal matters are still infrequently discussed, it's become easier to talk about everything else. When there are no leads to follow, I ask him to join me on walks through the city. We have spent many evenings together like this, just chatting as we stroll past the scenery. I initially thought him to be a man of few words, as at first, I tended to dominate the conversations we had. But after he had warmed to me, I found that this was not the case at all. He is more than willing to engage in casual conversation, if the topic interests him, and sometimes the city around us seems to blur as my investment grows in our discussions. He is very easy to talk to, though it’s difficult to explain why. He has a very wry manner of speaking, and perhaps the vast majority of people would not consider him “charismatic” in the classic sense. But I enjoy his company, and his humor. At first, he seemed a little surprised that I did. He once told me I was not what he expected me to be, though his mild tone told me that this was not a comment delivered in contempt. The sentiment made me laugh. But I simply told him that he had surprised me, as well.

Though I suspect his profession takes up most of his time, he does appear to hold a secondary interest in technology. He is surprisingly well versed in such topics, even more so than myself. Fontaine is well known as a very progressive nation, so perhaps it just comes from how he was raised. But he enjoys tinkering with little devices in his spare time, and as he does he will frequently go on little tangents about the means of their production. It is interesting to hear about, though truthfully, most of it tends to sail right over my head. In an odd, roundabout way, the particulars of gadgetry seem far more complicated and convoluted to me than alchemy. I’m afraid I would not have the patience for such a hobby. It’s incredibly meticulous work, and it seems like the efforts to get something as insignificant as a camera working would outweigh the results you are left with. But to each their own, I suppose. And it's actually quite soothing, listening to him speak and watching him work. He has a deep, comforting timbre to his voice, and his hands are steady even when working with the most intricate of parts. The subtle confidence he exudes in these moments is indicative of a man truly working in his element. It is… quite an alluring feature of his. 

And as for your first question… honestly, you're worse than your mother, sometimes.

But no, he is not married.

Though I must admit, I had already asked him that long before you sent your letter.

Still…. Though his company has been a surprise I welcome with open arms, I cannot forget why I’m here. Nor can I forget that this man is, in essence, a complete stranger. His intentions are dubious at best, depending on how much doubt I am able to withhold in the face of what he claims. And even with the most benefit given, that doesn’t change the fact there is much he still keeps hidden. There is only so much I can pry; I may just have to reserve myself to the fact that we are naught but colleagues of circumstance, and that after one or both of us reaches the end of this chapter in our lives, our paths will diverge. Such is life, I suppose. Some people exit our lives like the turn of the seasons. And I can scarcely even believe that an entire season has nearly come and gone since I set out on this journey.

There is a particularly striking species of tree native to one of the neighboring islands. The leaves maintain a lovely, reddish-orange shade throughout the summer, I've been told, but around this time of year, they deepen to a bold crimson before the come of winter. It's really quite breathtaking. But it is a shame that such a thing is so fleeting. A flash of red amongst the grey, gone almost as quickly as it appeared - the falling leaves at the mercy of time itself, leaving nothing but a memory of the warmth they once brought.

Forgive me. It seems my pen has wandered again.

With my parting words, I send you more sketches that I hope you will enjoy as much as the last few. It's just a few pieces of Inazuman scenery, including that species of tree I just described. Given all the spare time I’ve come into, I even wandered a bit outside of my comfort zone, and attempted to include a splash of color to account for the striking scarlet of the leaves.

Plus, one more sketch of Dottore, to further sate your curiosity. 

I will be the first to admit that the shade of red in both sketches is a woefully inadequate interpretation of what it is meant to represent. I suppose some things just can't be properly captured with pen and paper. Perhaps I just need some more practice. I think I shall continue to do so. After all, there shouldn't be too much harm in allowing myself the liberty of getting a little distracted while I'm here.

Much love,
Your brother

Bourou Village, Watatsumi Island, November 13th, XXXX

Klee ,

Forgive me, first and foremost, for the haste evident in my penmanship. I do not have much time to get this all out before our transport sets off.

I will get straight to the point: whilst Dottore and I were closing out our investigation in Watatsumi Island, a young man from Bourou Village had suddenly burst forth from the wilderness in a panic. We soon discovered he was one of three boys who had gone missing two days prior. He ran into the village in an awful state, bloody and bruised, and he was shouting frantic, terrified nonsense at the people who were attempting to soothe him and get him to the village infirmary.

His shouts were of a terrible monster in our midst. This, obviously, led Dottore and I to investigate further.

Once the boy had somewhat regained his senses, he was able to relate his tale to us: the night he and his friends had gone missing, their intention had been to sneak off to one of the neighboring islands to hunt for treasure. They had anchored a small dinghy in a secluded grotto on the outskirts of Watatsumi for such an occasion, so they would not be noticed heading off to sea. But when they made it to the coast, they encountered a strange, nameless wanderer who stopped them, and asked to join them on their travels. The boys, who were afraid they had gotten caught red-handed, began denying their plans to leave Watatsumi Island, saying they were only going for a stroll.

I will leave out the grisly details, for your sake, but an altercation soon arose from this. One of the boys was savagely cut down by the strange man. He told the other two to take him to their boat, and that from there they were to accompany him to Tsurumi Island. If they did not comply with his orders, he would kill them, as he had their friend. Our lone survivor was not willing to take him on his word. At the soonest opportunity, he made a run for it. He did not make it out unscathed, and he thinks that perhaps the only reason the stranger let him go in the first place is because he assumed his wounds to be fatal. They very nearly were. But by the grace of the Gods, the boy managed to survive, only managing to gather the strength to make it to the village today.

As I listened to this story, I did not have to think to corroborate with Dottore; after so long of accompanying him on his search, I knew who he was after just as well as he did. The strange man the boy described fit Scaramouche’s description exactly. And, we knew where he was planning on going.

I think the revelation was a bit too much for Dottore to take in all at once. He was soon in a frenzy, eyes sparking wildly as he grabbed the poor boy by the collar and demanded he tell him where exactly on the island Scaramouche planned on going. The boy was simply terrified, and he fell silent. He did not know, of course. But his lack of a response almost threw Dottore into a fit of rage. I was able to quickly deescalate the situation, before things got out of hand, but Dottore just stormed off in a huff before I was able to speak with him. After talking some more with the villagers, I returned to our campsite and found him brusquely packing up his things. I invited him to calm himself, as I had already set up arrangements for one of the local skippers to take us to the island, though he wouldn’t be able to gather the supplies he needed for another hour, at least. Dottore did not stop what he was doing.

“I have to go now ,” he said urgently. I tried to put a hand on his shoulder to still him.

“And what do you propose we do? Swim there?” I asked. “We have transport, my friend. We only need to be a bit more patient.”

“No, I-” Dottore faltered then, looking upon my hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off, his expression changing. “ I have to go, Al. I have to go on my own now.”

This made me take pause. It did a bit more than that, honestly. Heart sinking, I asked him why he would suggest such a thing, after how long we had spent on this journey together. Why part ways now?

I tried to touch his shoulder again, and this time he winced away as if I held a torch to his skin. He looked at odds with himself, until he finally managed to choke out, "I never should have accepted your help in the first place."

I grew quiet. "Why would you say something like that?"

Dottore looked at me almost hopelessly, the fire in his eyes no more than a smoldering ember. "I was never worthy of it."

"You have something to say. Please say it. If you've already made your decision, I would at least like to know why."

Dottore seemed to wither before my eyes. Then, he told his story. The real story.

Dottore is no vampire hunter. He does hail from Fontaine; that much had been the truth. But the village he hails from knew him, for many years, to be the town doctor. It was a small, underprivileged community, frequently stricken with famine and disease. He was skilled at his craft, and dedicated to his people, but it was difficult to keep up with the steady drip of the unwell. He had very few capable hands to assist him in caregiving, and there was not another qualified soul for miles. Over the course of his career, his cup had spilled over with the weight of souls that had been lost under his vigil. The people of the village, not willing to blame the Gods themselves, and not knowing where else to point their fingers, gradually grew to resent him for his perceived inadequacy. They did not value him as their healer, and in their blind desperation, they began to eschew his treatment altogether. The sick grew sicker still, clinging to the wills of the Gods in favor of the man who was meant to be nurturing them. They would expire on their deathbeds with no intervention, choking on their own filth as their loved ones barred the doctor from interference. They said it was better to go with the Gods than to tarry in agony in the mortal realm. The community's situation, of course, worsened as a result of this. Those who remained alive were trapped in a never ending cycle of sickness, and continued to feverishly cast all of the blame on their doctor's shoulders. Dottore was overwhelmed with the dead. He was overwhelmed with their misery. He was overwhelmed with his lack of control. He was desperate. And in his desperation, he tread where mortals should not dare to.

He began studying the occult and arcane arts to an obsessive degree. He spent his days chasing after old wives' tales and disproven legends, in search of what he had come to consider the only option for the people; a life eternal. If he could not heal his people, he would make it so he did not have to. Never again would the weight of the dead rest solely on his shoulders, for there would be no death to carry. This is how he came to learn of vampires, the immortal beings who stalked amongst man, the beings who had the power to create eternity itself.

But his fixation on immortality only served to further alienate him from the community. The man they had already considered a curse was spiraling into full blown lunacy. They feared his ramblings, and called him wicked, a wolf set to slaughter the lambs, a devil in disguise. Eventually, they exiled him from the village. Though at that point, it mattered little to Dottore. He would find the cure for death, and he would bring that cure back to his people. It did not matter if they understood. They would in due time.

And thus began Dottore's long, arduous journey in search of these beings of legend. Months passed, and then years, with each day yielding him less results than the day before it. 

He knew now, of course, that his small community had long since died off, that there would be nothing waiting for him at the end of his trial. After a certain point, he had even come to accept that he had been driven mad with grief, and that it had left him chasing monsters that existed only in the fears of mankind. He knew that all of his efforts had been for naught. He knew that he had lost everything.

But because he had lost all else, the only thing remaining was his search. He knew nothing else but to chase, so he let himself continue doing so. Even when on most days, he knew deep down inside that he was only chasing shadows. 

And then, he discovered Scaramouche.

He is not even entirely certain that Scaramouche is really a vampire, he told me. Scaramouche is as real an entity as any man, but Dottore only knows that he is a wicked, brutal creature with a penchant for leaving gorey destruction in his wake. He is considered a living legend, though this could mean anything. He could be a demon. He could simply be a madman. But his mere existence is the most solid lead that Dottore has ever encountered. He had nearly confronted him in Liyue, but the man sidestepped his intervention and took to the sea before Dottore was able to act. With nowhere else to turn, Dottore had no choice but to follow him. And that was how I eventually happened upon him.

After hearing his story, I chose to withhold my judgement. I only asked him this: "And what if the legends are true? What if this man is a vampire, and what if you find him? If you find that cure, how do you intend to utilize it?"

Dottore looked upon me somberly. "I'm going to ask him to turn me. If there is a cure to be had, I need to become it. It's the only way."

"Do you know what you ask?" I questioned. "You have still studied these creatures, after all. You know their 'cure' for what it really is; a curse. These are creatures of the damned. Immortality may not be the blessing you would consider it to be."

Dottore did not answer me. I pressed further.

"And what if he chooses not to fulfill your request, Dottore? If he is a man cruel enough to cut down a boy in cold blood, what would prevent him from doing the same to you?"

Dottore was pensive. Finally, he answered, "I know the risks. I know what may happen. But I have no other choice. This chance is all I have left, Al."

"And so you willingly would chase after your own demise?"

Dottore merely grimaced. "There is nothing left for me on this mortal plane. I have nothing to hold me here."

Truthfully, I didn't know how to respond to that, at first. Eventually, I just walked over to him and held his hand in my own. 

I urged him to reconsider that particular notion.

Well, I… did a bit more than that, I must admit, but for the sake of haste and propriety, I must refrain from getting ahead of myself. All that is necessary to know is that it only took a few moments more to convince Dottore that there would be no bad blood between us. The lies were inconsequential to the matter at hand; and as for that, I also convinced Dottore to wait for our transport so we could cross over into Tsurumi Island together. It would be safer that way, and if anything, I consider myself to be a man of my word. I said I would help him find the person he was looking for, and I would not so easily be persuaded to stop just short of the end. At any rate, Tsurumi Island is in my sights, as well. It's the only place I haven’t been yet. If Alice is still in the nation, she has to be there. There are no other options left.

Although I agreed to help Dottore see things through to the end, I still insisted that he give his intentions a second thought. That I do not seek to dissuade him from whatever closure he believes is necessary; I only ask that he proceed forward with care. The thing he seeks is not a decision to be taken lightly. He did offer me a solid answer one way or another, and in the end, the decision is his. I can only hope he will not act in haste.

I must wrap things up here. Our transport should be just about ready at the coast. I will write to you again as soon as I am able, Klee. I do not wish for you to worry; but I hope, as always, I stay in your thoughts. And perhaps keep Dottore there, as well.

Love,
Albedo

Inazuma City, Narukami Island, November 21st, XXXX

My dearest sister,

It is so good to be writing you again, Klee.

I expect you've been chomping at the bit since receiving my last letter, so I won't keep you in suspense much longer. I will simply pick up where I left off.

Upon our arrival to Tsurumi Island, Dottore and I quickly encountered the remains of what we assumed to be the poor boy that Scaramouche had dragged along with him to the island. It was unlikely to be anything else, as the rest of the island was completely deserted. The skipper on our way there had said the island was cursed by something dreadful, and that most folks kept their distance. The man would not even exit the boat when we arrived. He only assured us that he would hold his position at the shore and wait for our return, but advised that if we did not return before dusk, he would leave without us. In his words, if it took us any longer than that, we could be considered "as good as dead, if not already."

The island was blanketed in a thick, unnatural fog. There was a bone-chilling sense of unease in the air, the unmistakable sensation of a domain precariously straddling the borders of this world and the next.

For a few hours, Dottore and I searched for more signs of life, sticking close as to not lose each other to the fog. Our efforts were proving futile. We could not even properly see the sun, for how thick the mist was, but we could only assume that it was now hanging low enough to warrant concern. Eventually, I had to suggest turning back, so we would have enough time to find our way to shore before sunset. Dottore clenched his jaw, and said nothing.

Shortly after this, I made the error of letting my guard down. I let him out of my sights for a moment, and by the time I turned back, he was gone. Fearing the worst, I fought through the fog on my own, desperate to find Dottore before he did something reckless.

I soon came upon some ruins, and though the scene was heavily obscured, I could suddenly make out Dottore in the distance. He was standing in a defensive posture, a hand reaching into his coat for an object that only he and I would have known didn't exist. It was a bluff. In front of him stood another figure. I knew him only by the description I had heard countless times over the last few weeks, but even if I hadn't, I knew there was only one person it could possibly be. I fought the urge to confront them straight away. Instead, I kept myself shrouded in the mist. And I simply watched.

"You again?!" I heard Scaramouche shout. "Did you really follow me all the way here? Persistent little worm, aren't you?"

Dottore was visibly shaken by his presence. Perhaps he had come up on him by surprise. Perhaps deep down, he hadn't even expected to find him at all. But he quickly composed himself somewhat, standing up a little straighter.

"Enough!" Dottore barked. "I'm here to tell you that you can't hide any longer! I know what you are!"

This, of course, I knew to be another bluff. But it was a bluff that worked, and I could see Scaramouche's posture falter momentarily, eyeing Dottore's concealed hand. But his uneasiness quickly abated, and he simply scoffed at him.

"So what if you do?" Scaramouche sneered. "Why would that be of any concern to me? Are you a hunter, then? Do you think you'll be putting another vampire to rest today?"

Dottore stumbled over his words. He seemed to be taken aback by the hasty admission, and he forgot himself.

"N-no!" Dottore stammered. He brought his hand out of his coat, revealing it to be empty. This was a mistake that he probably could not see in his state. But I saw Scaramouche scowl at the sight, and he took a step towards him.

"You-! Then what-"

"N-no, not that!" Dottore shouted quickly, holding up his hands in yield. "I'm not a hunter! I'm here to-" Dottore swallowed thickly, before sensing he probably did not have much time to waste. Almost too fast to understand, he urgently blurted out, "I need you to turn me!"

This caught Scaramouche off guard enough to make him stop in his tracks. Then, he started laughing.

"Turn you?" Scaramouche cackled incredulously. "Is that what you've come all this way for?"

"Yes, yes! I want to be one of you! I need to be one of you!"

"Oh?" Scaramouche crowed in amusement. "Is that so? What is it you seek, then? Power? Knowledge? Immortality?"

"All of it!" Dottore stammered, desperation pulling at his voice. "Yes! I offer myself willingly; do as you must. I need to know what it's like. I need to have-"

"Now, now, let's not be hasty!" Scaramouche jeered. "I'm simply flattered you would come all this way just to bask in all my glory, but we haven't even been formally introduced. I'm Scaramouche, as I know you're already aware. And what may I call you?"

Dottore shifted around uneasily. "My- my name is Dottore."

"Dottore." Scaramouche parroted, toying with the word with a sinister tone. He shot a wicked grin in Dottore's direction. "Oh, what a novel little thing you are. Traveling all this way just to throw yourself into the maw of the beast. And why is that, I wonder? Has this world nothing left to offer you as it is? You wear your desperation plain on your face, Dottore. What could have possibly made you so desperate in the first place?"

Dottore opened his mouth to speak, and then quickly closed it. He let his gaze fall off to the side sheepishly. Silence hung in the misty air for a long while, before Scaramouche just chuckled.

"Nothing to say, all of a sudden?" Scaramouche mocked. "Well, I suppose I don't need to hear your life story, anyway. It's no concern of mine. Besides; I'm actually quite touched by this gesture of determination and adoration. So touched, I may just be willing to acquiesce to your request. But not before you do something for me first."

Dottore looked overcome with emotion. "What? What is it?"

Scaramouche gave him another truly blood-curdling grin. "You seem to have much respect for the power I hold. However, I would require a little more proof than that, before I'm willing to shepherd you to your true enlightenment. So, Dottore: kneel."

Dottore was taken aback by the sudden order. "I- what?"

"You heard me, fool. I want you to kneel." Scaramouche took another step towards him. "I want you to get on your knees, look me in the eyes, and beg for your salvation. I will not take on a disciple who is unwilling to do such a simple task as that. If you covet my power so badly, I need you to beg for it first."

Dottore appeared shell-shocked. He could only take another step back in response to Scaramouche's advance, and the vampire barked out a laugh at the sight.

"Don't tell me that gives you cold feet, after you've made it so far." Scaramouche shook his head in disbelief, moving forward again. "I'm not in the business of charity, Dottore. I am willing to give you what you want; but only if you can show me you deserve my recognition. I want you to beg for it. I want your last few moments as a man to be spent groveling at my feet. You went to all the trouble to find me; you surely must know that I am the ultimate life form. You must know that I am everything, and you are nothing. You must know all these things, for only a fool would think anything to the contrary. So I need you to prove it. Prove to me that you know what a sniveling, pathetic little cur you are. Prove to me that you know that I am your savior, that I alone am the ultimate being on this earth. Prove to me that you are willing to spend eternity in my debt. I want you to beg me to take you from this mortal coil. It shouldn't be hard at this point, should it? Simply pledge your eternal loyalty to me; know that you will forever be my loyal servant, Dottore. That you will always be mine, and mine alone."

Dottore was rendered speechless by the tirade. I could see him begin to shake, his knees wobbling beneath his own weight. For a moment, I thought he might do it. It was as if his body was fighting itself, torn between falling to the ground and putting an end to his long, taxing journey once and for all, and something else.

But he did not fall. Eventually, he looked back up at Scaramouche severely, setting his jaw for his reply.

"No. I won't."

Scaramouche's grin fell. He seemed frozen in place for a moment, but suddenly, he lurched forward in anger. Dottore stumbled back in surprise, his heel catching the edge of uneven ground and sending him sprawling back against the ground. Scaramouche continued his advance.

"You won't ?!" Scaramouche shrilled. I could see the glint of his fangs from where I stood. "After all that?! What kind of fool are you?! You've wasted my time for long, enough, worm! I hope you weren't expecting any second chances! I'll make use of you, one way or another."

It was at that point, of course, I decided I could not sit by any longer. I burst forth from the mist, showing myself. Dottore looked over at me in surprise, and Scaramouche whipped his head around with a snarl. Without a word, he lunged at me. I stood my ground, and-

Oh, do forgive me. I've let my pen wander again, it seems. It was just quite the exciting ordeal - I'm sure you understand. However, I know you probably don't wish to hear about such grisly matters in stark detail.

Though honestly, not enough time passed for the exchange to be all that grisly.

As I suspected, that Scaramouche fellow appeared to be not much more than a pup. Maybe a century or two old, at the absolute most. If he was older than you by even a day, I would be simply flabbergasted. I'm assuming this is why neither you or I knew of him, and why he did not immediately catch wind of my intentions as I stepped forth from the mist. Unfortunately, I did not have the time to inquire further; to say the fellow scampered off with his tail between his legs would be a gross understatement of the spectacle he made of himself.

It is all for the better, I suppose. Though wetness behind the ears is most likely the culprit for his brazen recklessness, such cruelty as what I witnessed is not something even a young vampire could easily be broken of. As your mother has always said, it's best not to associate ourselves with folks of that nature. There are plenty of others of our kind that are worth reaching out to; this fellow, however, is not one of them. After what I saw, I have no qualms in saying that I wish nothing more than for him to crawl back into whatever hole he sprung forth from, to succumb to a cruelty far more wicked than his own; the cruelty of an empty, lonely eternity.

Ah. Perhaps I'm just a bit too vindictive. I hope you can see it in your heart not to scold me too harshly for it, given the circumstances.

After I had revealed myself for what I am, and after Scaramouche had already run for the hills, Dottore remained on the ground, staring at me with an aghast, dumbstruck look on his face. I do wish I would have had the opportunity to break the news to him a bit more gently. It must have been quite a shock to take in all at once. I approached him, and held a hand out to him. He winced away from my reach, initially. I took no offense to it. I thought that, perhaps, it had all at once dawned on him the absurdity of introducing himself as a vampire hunter, while not even having the experience necessary to recognize that the being he so brazenly made this claim to was a vampire himself.

There are no hard feelings, of course. I honestly still find the whole thing quite amusing.

I simply regarded him gently, saying, "There is nothing to fear, my friend. There never has been."

His expression softened, then. He took my hand, and we began our trek back to shore.

Now, before I go on, I will enlighten you on the status of the situation as it pertains to you and me. Unfortunately, I was unable to locate Alice, nor could I find any evidence as to where her journey might lead her next. We returned to the island once or twice more, with more daylight to spare, but our efforts bore no fruit. I have had to reserve myself to the fact that I will not find her here. I have only waited this long to tell you, as I suspect that you reached this conclusion far easier than I came into it.

I do apologize for tarrying so long in Inazuma. I know that you are much more confident than I in the sentiment that things will play out only as they are meant to; I'm slightly ashamed of myself now, for doubting it. For doubting you, and by extension, doubting Alice. I know that Alice is more than capable of handling her own affairs, and that when the time is right, she will return to us on her own.

I'm afraid that it's still far too easy to second guess things. The suspicion that my master is one of the beings she seeks has no doubt contributed to my uneasiness. I yearn for some clarity on the matter, and I worry for their safety in the days to come. But you're right, as you always have been; I worry a bit too much. It seems I have lost the forest for the trees, in my haste. I do hope you can forgive your fool of a brother, for taking so long to realize it. But on the bright side, I believe this trip has been unexpectedly enlightening for me. Maybe this is all just what I needed, to help set my mind at ease.

But I digress: upon returning to our campsite on Watatsumi with Dottore, I explained everything to him. I went into more detail about why I was in Inazuma, and my relation to you and Alice, and what Alice has been doing. I went into a little more detail about myself, though I tried not to overwhelm him with unnecessary particulars. He was uncharacteristically quiet all the while. He only piped up once or twice while I spoke to ask for clarification on things, but aside from that, he sat in pensive silence. It would have been easy to write it off as shock, and perhaps that was true, to some degree. But I knew what he was thinking. I could see it written on his face, and in the way he seemed unable to match my gaze. After a while, I trailed off in my speech.

I asked him, “Do you understand, now, why I told you the decision was not to be made lightly?”

Dottore nervously kept his gaze averted. He did not reply, so I continued.

“Scaramouche was not wholly incorrect, you know,” I mused. “In a sense, it is a pledge you make. And it’s not only a pledge to eternity itself, but to what you make of that eternity.” I sighed. “Things like power and the idea of perfection are… fleeting. Even for beings like us. I’ve long since realized this. And that Scaramouche…. Well, I sense he’s probably close to getting the idea, after all that. Those kinds of things hold no substance. They wither and die like everything else will, and in the wake of it all, you’re left with nothing else to hold onto. I do not consider our people to be cursed - but when you lead a life as meaningless as that, it is one.”

Dottore mulled this over. “And what did you pledge yourself to, then?”

“You’ve known since the beginning, my friend. I pledged myself to the truth, to the pursuit of understanding. I seek the meaning of this world, and all that encompasses. That was not a lie.”

“And have you come any closer to finding your answer?”

I had to consider that for a few moments. I thought of the long journey I had just endured. I thought of the countless other journeys I had been on in my lengthy, winding life. I thought of my master, and I thought of Alice. And I thought of you.

“Yes. I do think I have.” I left it at that. Dottore didn’t seem to need any further clarification, anyway. We both fell silent for a spell.

Then, I asked him what his pledge would be.

As for his answer… that is probably not my place to say. At any rate, I feel as though this letter has gone on long enough.

I know there’s probably much more you are curious about, so I pray for your patience. Any questions you have will be answered soon enough. As I write this, all the preparations have already been made; I will be on a course for the mainland at the break of dawn tomorrow.

While this trip was certainly enlightening for more reasons than one, I think I shall not take another one for a while. I would much rather prefer to stay at home with you, if such an excursion can be avoided in the future. I think Alice would probably prefer it that way, anyway.

One last thing, before I close out this letter: if you would, please make an effort to tidy up after yourself. I’d rather there not be any explosives laying around the place for people to trip over. 

We will have a guest to entertain, after all. I’m sure you are eager to meet him, and I know he feels the same. So I would hope you’ll do your best to prepare for him.

You won’t have to worry about setting up the spare room, though. There will... not be a need for it.

Until we reunite,
Albedo Kreideprinz