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The winds cried and moaned as they raced along narrow pathways, slipped deep into the narrowest of crevices and bent lonely trees that were scattered between the icy peaks.
At last, when the thick sheet of fresh snow threatened to reach his knees and the wind grew in strength, relentless in its pursuit to stop their attempt to reach his camp, Albedo's steps slowed down. As if finally sensing a breach in his otherwise impeccable defense, a strong gust of wind sprang up, tearing his hood away, disheveling his hair and blinding him for a short moment.
Dragonspine seemed to be a sour mood, tossing and turning the never ending masses of ice and snow, and only a fool would ignore the hint, continuing the passage despite the clear warnings that the mountain gave to those capable of listening.
Coming to a definite halt, Albedo turned around to face his traveling companion, raising his voice against the wind that blew mercilessly into their backs. "I'm afraid that this is as far as we can get tonight."
Lumine blinked, a couple of ice crystals breaking away from her frozen eyelashes as she nodded in understanding. "It's fine, the commission can wait for another day, so as long as these trinkets are safe." She patted her bag, reassuring him that she could afford the delay.
He nodded, turning his gaze to a place somewhere beyond the sheer impenetrable curtain of snow and ice, locating the barely visible glow of a beacon.
"If my memory serves right," he breathed, "there should be a good place nearby."
Following his line of sight, Lumine tipped her head in affirmation and both silently agreed to make camp.
Tucked away beyond one of the mountain's walls, the remnants of what appeared to be an old temple promised to provide the travelers with both shelter and enough ventilation to start a small fire, thus deemed to be the perfect place to hold out until the storm ceased to rage.
Still, despite being protected from nature's relentless onslaught, the ever-present cold permeated the earth, even within this little safe heaven.
Brushing a few stones and twigs aside, Albedo felt the hardness of metal and wood. Pleased to find that the trove was still in its designated place, he motioned for Lumine to come closer.
"Are these hidden provisions?" Lumine asked, peering over his shoulder.
He nodded. "It is only natural to think several moves ahead when dealing with a capricious mountain. Besides," he continued as he opened the trove and peered into its depths, "adventurers are naturally drawn to this place, and the less unfortunate accidents are reported, the better for the Knights of Favonius."
The trove contained dried wood, rope, sleeping bags and covers as well as dried meals. Ignoring the latter, Albedo inspected the condition of the cloth, finding it still suitable enough for a good night's rest. Handing the bags and blankets over to his companion, he took hold of the wood.
Soon, a smoking pile of dried bark and powdered leaves gave birth to a small flame. A few shy tongues of fire began to lick the twigs, tasting the offering, and before long the wood was devoured with hunger, providing them with warmth in return.
Sighing, Lumine slipped off her stiff boots and settled down on the covered ground. Following suit, Albedo sat at the opposite side, poking the fire and adding a couple of fresh twigs every now and then. With hooded eyes, Lumine watched his actions, before at last, the heaviness of her eyelids won the battle and she leaned against her knees, hair falling over to cover her eyes as her breathing evened.
Left in the company of the crackling fire and muffled howls of the winds, Albedo found himself still very much wide awake, tending to the fire as it slowly turned into warm glowing embers. Quietly, so as not to disturb his companion's rest, Albedo fished out a stack of journals, for who would he be if he were to waste this precious spare time that Dragonspine had so kindly provided him with?
He squinted, attempting to discern the titles in the faint glow of the old lantern that was stuck in the wall for convenience, brushing against the covers as he mused over which one he should use. Finally, his hand halted as he recognized a familiar, slighly worn binding, and before he knew it, the journal rested in his palm, heavy with countless notes and paintings.
Did he pack it by accident, or was it simply fate's choice? Brushing over the thick leather, Albedo opened the first page. The yellowish paper, stiff from the amount of graphite rubbed into its smooth surface, was littered with numbers that filled many rows and columns, the respective parameters and output written in small and neat letters on the side.
Any other person looking at this would be confused, without a doubt, but of course, Albedo recalled this particular study. His gaze strayed lower to a list of suggestions, with new parameters to test and further experiments to be made. Not much worth of note, he remarked inwardly, safe for a particular note in the very corner and many question marks left behind.
He turned the page.
The next section revealed a double page spread which depicted a certain woman from the front, the back and sides, drawn with a scale bar and ideal anatomical proportions, each part accompanied with numbers, names and further details that he saw fit to add. The subject of this study wore a neutral gaze, perhaps with a small question and a hint of curiosity lingering within the large eyes, looking straight at him as she was forever etched into the page.
From the scientific viewpoint, it was truly a masterful painting.
As the pages flipped, the mathematical characters kept changing, kept growing as they seemingly came alive. In a way that only numbers could, they unraveled a process that was yet invisible to the naked eye, making that which had been obscured clear for all to see.
The being called Lumine was a star in the making, still fragile and fighting to find the balance that she had once lost, gathering strength slowly and subtly, and ever changing, ever growing. Without a single doubt, she was a fascinating subject, with never ending facets opening themselves with time, easily triggering the thirst for further research, promising to fill at least a dozen of thick books.
But pages turned and the amount of numbers dwindled, the illustrations of the subject intruding upon the space reserved for calculations, the images no longer quite as detailed, descriptions missing here and there, some resting in the state of simple sketches.
Within the stiffness of the yellow paper, the subject came to life. The pages turned, telling a story of a woman walking, fighting, cooking, eating. Lumine sighing, laughing, smiling — all parts of mundane life seemed to have crept inside the book, disrupting the initial order.
Page forty-five, the woman's head was frozen in a half-turn, her eyes bearing a certain softness as she regarded the onlooker. The painting was raw and perhaps not as detailed as the others, but that was a given considering that he had finished it long after capturing this moment in the rough form of a sketch.
It had no scientific value, and it provided no input that could be inserted in a formula or used for calculation. Nevertheless, he could not help but study the expression, recalling the memory with a certain warmth blooming inside his chest.
When did her company, support and interest become the norm, stirring up a sense of gratitude that were never intended to exist in the first place?
Once more, Albedo's eyes captured her likeness, studying the shapes, the smudged edges, the subtle glow about her that was most certainly not part of the original scene. At least, Albedo came to the conclusion that, contrary to these faults, it was a good painting, even if it was not an exact copy of reality, capturing only the parts that had mattered in that very moment.
Lumine was a star. She was a star that naturally radiated light, an essential component for the nourishment of life. Was it not natural, then, for new life to be born as a result of such care, and for a flower to thrive under the warmth that was given freely and generously?
And there was nothing irrational in that sentiment, now that the image had become so clear before his inner mind's eye.
His eyes darted forward to the sleeping woman's frame.
What had made her ask to join him, when she could have very well made the journey alone? What made her return to his side, over and over, when, speaking truthfully, there was so little of value that he could offer in return, and she must have understood it, despite nodding and always going along with his selfish requests.
And soon, a new question arose in his mind, occupying his attention and refusing to let go.
Could a star, Albedo wondered as he quietly closed the journal, ever care for the flower that it has unexpectedly given life to, when myriads of other such flowers were bound to exist as well?
The embers emanated a faint glow, filling the improvised camp with gentle warmth, and as he mused over this question, fatigue crept inside his limbs, eventually persuading him to rest.
Sometime after midnight, the winds had ceased to blow, the sudden lack of noise causing Albedo to return from his dreamless sleep.
Unexpectedly, the thick fog that used to haunt the mountain dissipated, opening an unparalleled view at the grand firmament and the endless land below.
Safely nestled among the waters of Lake Cider, Mondstadt slept soundly in the far distance, the famous sharp towers of the Grand Cathedral resting comfortably amidst countless windmills as they turned their large wheels, cutting through the mist that had settled above the city as they worked day and night.
And somewhere in between laid the boundary between civilization and wilderness, created and protected by human hands. Life was different beyond that line, more raw and beautiful in its apparent simplicity, and every little creature obeyed the laws of nature as it knew exactly of its unique and proper place in this universe.
The little subject of Albedo's study was keenly aware of this, too, as it stirred, its nostrils moving rapidly as it smelled the air with sudden excitement.
Now that its posture had changed, Albedo saw no use in finishing the rough sketch, and after briefly inspecting the half-finished likeness of the fox, he turned the page, setting his pen back to paper.
Completely ignorant of his noble pursuits, the reason for this unexpected interruption resurfaced from the protective shadow of a lonely tree, resting just within a few jumps' distance from Albedo's first subject of study. Inevitably, almost as if pulled together by a hidden force, both representatives of Dragonspine's scarce fauna drew nearer, probing the other's presence with careful touches of their noses, registering the chemistry in the air before at last a wordless message passed between the two.
The foxes frolicked, ignorant of his intruding gaze as they shared a dance amongst the snow. Albedo's gaze followed them as nature took its seemingly inevitable course.
Perhaps, Albedo concluded, there were things that simply came natural to those that were born into this world by the will of the nurturing earth itself. And even humans, with their elaborate customs and social constructs, inevitably fell into the grand scheme of things.
Thinking about it, was his very essence not a contradiction, something standing very much against this cycle? And yet here he was.
And if he existed, just like the little offspring of this mountain, and ate the same food that was born from the earth, and walked under the same sun, then was he truly any different from the rest?
Or perhaps, he mused, it was precisely because of the foreign star, a being that was not quite a part of this place, originally, that he now stood here and asked these questions.
He breathed. If only nature could talk in human language. But alas, nature could not, leaving Albedo no other choice but to learn to understand its subtle language instead. And what he lacked in understanding, in instincts that were imprinted into the minds of all creatures, he could make up for with his methods, wrapping his mind around the matter, probing it and receiving feedback, until at last he would find his truth.
He traced the rough sketch of the couple, before something inside him stirred, turning and spinning before at last solidifying in a more tangible form.
Perhaps, some things could only be found out by acting.
Albedo took a deep breath, unfazed by the sharp stinging that filled his lungs, before tucking the pencil inside his pocket and closing the sketchbook.
Lumine stirred as a sudden wave of cool air washed over her, causing a shiver to run across the sensitive skin of her cheeks. For a long moment, her consciousness lingered at the border between dreams and reality, rendering her unable to process the sudden sensation that had interrupted her sleep.
"My apologies. Did I wake you?" A smooth voice called for her attention, making her shift to turn towards its source, blinking a couple of times before the dryness within her eyes subsided.
At once, her eyes were drawn to fresh crystals of ice stuck to eyelashes that framed a pair of beautiful eyes, and for a moment she was charmed by the clear blue that sparkled with a myriad of different hues. The skies themselves must have condensed within, a place that she had loved deeply, but only realized it once her wings were cut.
Ah. Could it be that she was dreaming still?
Lumine hummed in response, gaze traveling slowly across her companion, studying the lines of the youthful face without any particular aim as her mind struggled to leave the sweet embrace of her dreams.
Even under the harsh conditions of ever-present wind and cold, she thought absentmindedly, Albedo's skin never lost its smoothness, platinum blonde locks merely scattered by the wind and slightly wet now that the warmth has began to melt the snow that had lost its way into his hair.
Truly, when faced with such a tranquilizing sight, how could she stay discontent at being unceremoniously torn from her rest?
At last, Lumine took a deep breath as she stretched, attempting to release the stiffness that had taken hold of her sore muscles. The covers beside her shifted as Albedo shook the snow off his boots and came to rest nearby.
"The winds stopped?" she asked, turning back to her companion.
"It did," he replied shortly, and she waited for further details, expecting that he would tell her more, but—
Only silence followed.
Her lips split, the incoming question promptly getting stuck in her throat when she took note of her companion's intent gaze.
Albedo's eyes were glued to her for one moment, before losing focus the next, and she looked back, finding something complex and inexplicable within that intrigued her. She studied his expression, the lines of his face, finding tension in places where there was none before and took note of the slight shaking within his irises, almost as if his mind was performing a set of complex calculations that completely escaped her sight.
Completely puzzled, her lips remained sealed as she allowed for a considerable amount of time to pass before, at last, his eyes darted back to hers and pinned her with a sudden certainty.
Something had changed, her senses whispered, and it was not the weather, not just the weather.
How should he best approach the subject?
Hundreds of possibilities existed simultaneously within the vast plane of his mind, too many variables with unknown values obstructing the simple path towards the best decision, for everything was still so new.
At last growing frustrated with his inability to pinpoint what was best, Albedo stretched his hand and grasped at the most simple vision that gave him a sense of comfort and security. His lips moved, words forming automatically, the question simply spilling out in practiced manner. "This may come a little sudden but… would you be interested in an experiment?"
"An experiment?" Lumine echoed as a puzzled expression washed over her face. "Right here? What about your materials, the journals and machines?"
Albedo shook his head. "For this experiment, I do not need anything of the sort."
Lumine seemed to consider his words, growing pensive as she chewed her lip in contemplation. It was, perhaps, not quite the best place to be asking such a question, Albedo realized as the silence stretched on, but now that he had said it, was it not already too late to change his mind?
"Then I agree," she answered, sparing him from further wondering about the subject as she decided to indulge his selfish request, blissfully unaware of all that it entailed.
And that was his command for action, for as soon as said words left her mouth, his hand slid around hers, bringing it close to his lips before planting his lips against her knuckles.
A faint gasp left her mouth upon the contact, hand twitching just below his lips.
The action had been well-researched and rehearsed within the space of his mind, and he performed it to the best of his abilities, with a precision and confidence that he could, perhaps, even be proud of. Something was missing from this recipe, however, something that he could not quite put his finger on.
Pondering over this missing piece, Albedo raised his eyes to the wide eyed recipient of his study.
"How does that make you feel?" he asked as he froze in the intimate gesture, searching her face for a reaction, the output that his action was supposed to generate.
But her face betrayed no other feeling other than surprise, and not a trace of the desired result that he intended to achieve. At last, her lips twitched, opening and closing before forming a reply. "It's... cold?"
For a moment, Albedo remained quiet, scanning her face, searching for something within her eyes, but it was all for nothing, and he was rendered silent as not even a single favorable prediction had came true.
His eyes fell to the hand, the smooth hand that he had held with confidence only one minute ago, before releasing his hold. She hesitated, hand lingering for a few moments longer, then slipping back to her side.
"I see," he muttered just below his breath, "I see… so that was a miscalculation."
As someone who rarely took part in social life, unless, of course, if duty dictated him to, Albedo was well aware of certain shortcomings in his own character and act. Apologies had to be made, if necessary, but has the act of being wrong always been so unpleasant?
Something inside his chest contracted, producing an unexpected sort of pain, not strong enough to scream or cry, not even gasp, and yet—
Brushing against the affected area, he rubbed the spot. Lumine's eyes followed the movement.
Finally, his eyes darted back to hers. "Forgive me, I may have overstepped my boundaries, making use of your uninformed consent."
At that, she grew thoughtful as her lips froze in a tight line. Albedo waited, knowing that she deserved this time regardless of his needs and feelings. The gears inside her mind turned as her eyes lost focus and found it again, looking past Albedo then darting back to his form.
Eventually, they came to rest on him, as she opened her mouth, saying something most unexpected and unimaginable, shattering his seemingly flawless predictions.
"Then... shall I grant you my informed consent instead?"
He would have thought that he had heard it wrong, if not for being absolutely confident in his hearing. For but a short second, Albedo's eyes widened, before his mind caught on and he breathed, "Only if you are willing to."
She swallowed, taking a deep breath before once more, her golden eyes, her warmth and confidence returned tenfold, and it was nothing like her likeness that was held between the sheets of his journal, and unlike any of the paintings that he had ever made.
"Why don't we work on this experiment together?" Lumine said, working her hand around his and giving it a slight squeeze.
"Together...?" he asked, focusing on her face, almost as if he was seeing it for the first time. "Yes, I would very much… appreciate it."
Her lips curled in response as the gold in her eyes brimmed with life, emanating a gentle light.
Yes... Of course. So that was it.
All of a sudden, everything made sense, and he looked back, analyzing her expression, lingering on the reflection of glowing embers as they danced within her eyes, recognizing the fatal error in his experiment, the missing part that he had overlooked.
She laughed, the pleasant ring stirring his chest. "Then I suppose that it is my turn now?"
"It is all yours, indeed." His lips stretched effortlessly into a smile.
A spark passed across gold, as she inquired carefully, "Then how about something like this?"
And, after deftly capturing his hand, she removed the thick glove, revealing the bare flesh beneath. Both of their hands, of near equal size, slipped into each other easily, almost as if they were made to fit.
"It's warm," he commented, staring in wonder at the parts that had some together so neatly.
"And that's because you are still cold," she retorted, a smile still playing across her lips. "But maybe I could help with that?"
"I would be much obliged," he replied.
And without further ado, Lumine slipped her hand around his, moving and angling it to press his palm against her cheek. His mind raced, processing the new sensation, taking note of the temperature and smooth texture, the occasional tickle resulting from her locks brushing against his skin, the warm hand enclosing his and holding it tight.
Could pen and paper ever replicate this moment?
He could hardly register it when her eyelids fell close and she asked, "How is it?"
But before he could open his mouth, there was a sudden flicker. And for a split second, the lantern flashed, sending them but a short warning before the light died, covering their makeshift camp in pure and indiluted darkness.
His eyebrows knitted, a sigh almost escaping from his lips.
"What's wrong?" Lumine's voice resounded not too far away. Has it always been so close, clear and steady?
"It's too dark to see," he replied, voice betraying his mild disappointment.
There was a short pause.
"Is that a problem?" the darkness asked with Lumine's voice.
He hummed in reply, before growing silent for a moment.
His fingers brushed against the softness of her cheek, thumb traveling further and further, coming in contact with her nose, then straying lower towards the plump flesh of her lips, and she inhaled sharply at the sudden contact, but did not move away.
He could not see the fullness of her lips, but he could feel it, and the touch itself became the substitute for his eyes, mind easily filling in the missing gaps.
Yes… Perhaps… it is not so bad.
"Albedo?" her voice called.
His hand moved further, brushing her ear, the soft locks of hair, falling down to her neck, tracing the curve and feeling the difference in texture between the clothe and skin. His touch was clumsy, at first, as he worked on memorizing every surface, before growing more confident as his mind drew the complex map that was her body.
"Now that you mention it, light is not essential, after all," Albedo finally concluded.
"Don't tell me you intend to make a sculpture!" A breathless laugh escaped her lips, as her hands brushed against his clothes, and she shifted, changing the landscape that his mind had so meticulously memorized.
He took a liking to the idea. But the roughness of his hands was not enough, Albedo thought, not nearly enough. How could he optimize the process? Returning to her face, his fingers brushed the softness of her lips, and there he got his answer.
"If I am not mistaken, then it is my turn now," he informed her, and having said that, he leaned in close enough to feel the movement of the air between them, nose accidentally brushing against soft skin, resulting in a short laugh coming from his partner.
"That is correct," Lumine breathed, and from the sound he thought he could discern a smile, and longing to prove this assumption, he cleaned in closer, cutting the space in between to almost nothing. From this meaningless distance, the warmth that emanated from her skin slipped into his, and every little touch created a cascade of new sensations that irrevocably pulled him in.
With a relentless and unyielding curiosity, his lips traveled all over the soft curves of her face, the image burning into his memory, before at last, by lucky change, he came across her lips, brushing them almost by accident, and feeling her lips shiver in return. A short moment passed before their lips brushed again, finding each other more easily now that they knew the way, lingering there before, at last, the growing tension snapped. Pressing a little harder, their lips moved against each other, brushing softer and stronger until they fell into an ideal balance. And at some point, her hands came around his neck, his snaking around her waist. Following the natural flow that seemed to dictate their actions, both of their bodies fell, barely even registering the change of position.
His heart was pumping blood at an accelerated pace, the flower within unfolding its rich petals that gradually gained color and caught fire. Was that how Pyro Regisvines felt when they first saw the light of this world?
And it was like the day that he was born, when the world was new and he was like a clean sheet of pure white, soaking in the colors of the world as he came to be, except this new life was given to him by none other than a glowing star, a celestial being that, through a combination of circumstances, happened to resonate with his.
At last, after what seemed like both an eternity and an impossibly short moment, they parted, sounds of breaths filling the silence of their little haven.
But the sudden break only served to fuel his thoughts with images that his eyes could not see, and despite the darkness, Albedo found comfort in the warmth of her presence.
Could he imagine a life without the star's dazzling light?
But...
Did the star love the flower as much?
It was a question that demanded an immediate answer, and thus, without a second thought, he pressed his ear against the softness of her chest.
In response, a hand slipped along his head, working its way through the messy locks before resting atop.
One, two, three, four, five—
His lips moved, counting the beats. They came abnormally fast, along with the chest expanding generously to take deep breaths.
Almost coincidentally, their hands shifted, finding their way back together. He stirred, leaving the soft warmth, letting his lips guide him back until the tips of their noses brushed softly against each other.
"Will you permit me to do a more… thorough investigation?" he asked.
Lumine laughed, releasing his hand as her arms came around him, bringing their bodies even closer. "If that is what you wish."
"Good. Because my research..." his voice dropped as he shortened the distance to a mere millimeter, breath mixing with hers, "requires a bit of refinement still."