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In the beginning, Aether is excited for the journey. Even powerless and separated from his sister, the joy of exploration has kept his heart light. He and Paimon set out, the little fairy having decided to act as his guide in this strange new world.
By the time they arrive in Mondstadt, Aether has learned to trust his newfound companion. When Paimon tells him to touch the statue resting on the island, power running though it, he simply obeys, never questioning the being. He should have.
Anemo comes easily to Aether, enveloping him in its nourishing winds like an old friend. He can feel the power settle into the hole that his missing abilities had left, though plenty of empty space still remains.
With Anemo comes the ability to heal himself, if only a little. Had this aspect of the power not manifested, Aether might have felt the twinge of his arms after a long day of commissions, might have been given some inkling of what lie ahead. Instead, he finishes his quest, frees the dragon, and moves on.
—
As soon as he enters Liyue, Aether spots yet another statue, this one depicting a robed man holding a cube of stone. At Paimon’s urging, he steps up to the statue once more and opens his heart to the power of Geo. The pit in his stomach feels that much shallower, Aether feels that much closer to his old self. He pays no mind to the ache in his legs, it’s only natural after walking so long.
Aether defeats Childe, but it is closer than he would have liked, closer than it should have been. After the battle, the two of them fall into an easy friendship. Once, standing amid carnage at the end of a particularly hard battle, Childe tells Aether how it feels to wield too much power, to the point where it tears you apart. Aether winces at the idea, the ache in his arms deepening as if in sympathy.
Sympathy and empathy are oh so similar.
—
Inazuma is not as clear in Aether’s memories as Liyue. After arriving in Ritou, he is afflicted with a pounding headache that never quite disappears. As he weaves Anemo and Electro together into a Swirl, his concentration is almost shot by a sudden wave of pain. Aether supposes he should have expected something like this when he chose to enter an area saturated with Tatarigami energy. His legs shake slightly, the ache only getting worse.
—
The Traveler’s stomach churns with nausea as he treks through Sumeru’s vast desert in search of the Academia. At Paimon’s insistence, they stop to rest and eat lunch next to a Statue of The Seven.
Aether leans against the statue as he sips his water, feeling the pulse of Dendro beneath the stone as he watches Paimon scarf down a good portion of their rations. He idly notes that the light green hue given off by his clothes while he uses the new element is the same shade as the dying leaves of the desert plants. Shouldn’t Dendro represent healthy greenery? Maybe this is what the archon considers healthy…
Aether is pulled back to reality by Paimon’s voice next to his ear. He gathers from the little fairy’s upset lecture that he’d spaced out yet again, something that had been happening more and more as his journey continued. He wonders if the Academia has something that could help.
The Dendro archon watches the pair stumble through sand dunes. She almost feels bad for the child, so oblivious to the fact that he’s bringing about his own downfall.
—
Aether would enjoy Fontaine more if he weren’t so dizzy. The bright lights and rich music of the city of justice make the boy sick to his stomach, and he and Paimon have taken to camping on the outskirts of the city, where people can’t afford to party their lives away.
Ever since arriving in the land of Hydro, the Traveler has been having dizzy spells and the ever present aches in his limbs have only grown in intensity. Paimon refuses to let him recieve commissions from Fontaine’s branch of the Adventurer’s Guild because of it, even though Aether has insisted that he’s fine.
Despite Paimon’s attempts to keep him in the bed they’ve rented, Aether is still up and running towards the heart of the city at the first sound of screams. He puts all his concentration into channeling Hydro through his body, the blue glow slowly creeping up his body. Every element is harder to master than the one before it, and even Anemo has started to escape Aether’s control, but duty calls despite his fatigue. The blonde rushes into the fray, adrenaline already beating back the ever-present pain.
—
Natlan, the land of Pyro, is nearly unbearable. On his bad days, Aether can do no more than writhe in pain as his body is overtaken by flashes of hot and cold, his dangerously brittle bones sending waves of pain tearing through his limbs. His once simple commissions seem now like an insurmountable task, even a single hilichurl leaving far too many marks on his delicate, paper thin skin.
Paimon is with him constantly now, no longer vanishing into whatever subspace she usually inhabits. She tries to keep Aether out of Natlan’s main cities, away from anything that could hurt him. Her efforts are futile. Aether has always been a giver. Although his abilities now are only a shadow of his former glory, he will still do his best to harness the writhing, untamable mass of elemental energy inside him in service of others.
Aether departs from the oppressive heat of the land of Pyro shivering, consumed by yet another fever. As the temperature steadily drops, his own body heat only rises. Snezhnaya awaits his arrival, her statues pulsing with a soft blue glow.
The cup is filled to the brim. A single drop will send it crashing to the ground, and the floods will envelop all of Teyvat.
—
He can’t wake up. In some distant, hazy, corner of his mind, Aether knows that he likely will not wake up again. He ignores that shadowy little section of his brain, just as he did when it warned him not to touch the final statue. Instead, he lets himself be fully immersed into the dream.
It’s a good dream. Aether thinks that if he had to have a last dream, he would have chosen this one anyways. He and Lumine are sitting together in the shade of the great tree at Windrise. The wind blows softly, brushing his sister’s golden hair away from her face. She grins and flicks a swirl of wind at him, undoing his braid. Aether laughs at her antics, pulling together a chilly gust to ruffle her skirts.
Distantly, he recognizes that the cold gust of his dream is not so fake, and has numbed his arms completely. He can’t bring himself to mind the reprieve from the pain.
He is holding a crystalfly now, captured with a careful breeze that speaks of too much experience. (Aether can’t remember the last time he could maneuver the wind so precisely.) He pulls his sister to his side and points out the hidden details of the little bug’s anatomy, so subtle that he would never have seen them himself if Albedo hadn’t pointed them out.
The cold feeling of the crystalfly resting on his chest relaxes Aether. His breathing starts to slow, the numbness spreading.
The sun has set sometime while he and Lumine were talking. They lay together, propped against the great oak, watching the stars. He notices Kaeya’s constellation shining brightly above and points it out to his sister. They make a game of spotting as many of his friends’ stars as possible.
His heart is shutting down, the cold spreading faster. The end is near.
Her head rests on his shoulder, breathing slow and even. As darkness overtakes his vision, Aether is glad he could see her one last time.
A little fairy hovers beside a body, still and cold. She gently closes the eyes of the boy she grew to admire.
So far away and yet agonizingly close, some intangible piece of Lumine shrivels up and dies. The ruler of the Abyss drops to the ground like a puppet with her strings cut. Somewhere above, Time smiles sadly. With the disturbances to her peace gone, she releases her hold on her mortal form.
In the morning, a young girl will wade through the waist high snow that had been gathering throughout the night. She will stop short in front of her Archon’s statue, when she nearly trips over something hard. After nearly an hour of digging, she will be met with the sight of a blonde boy in exotic clothing. He will be cold and hard, frozen to death. He will be alone, except for a pile of dust that shimmers like fallen stars.