Archive of Our Own

 Alchemy always seemed so enticing, so fascinating to her. Simple scholars presenting their transmutations, preaching their philosophies, would always ignite some flame inside of her that she could never describe properly, or put into writing. Alchemy seemed so free, without the restraint of so many rules and manners. It was an art where the disciple would be clear to follow their own will, to create new sciences from dull dust. It appeared so… tempting and alluring.

 That temptation was the reason why she went out that night.

 The Alchemy workshop in Mondstadt. She had never visited it before, only seen it from afar, beyond the glass of her window. There was always a young gentleman, named Timaeus, refining at the crafting bench. But given her title, she could not, ever, approach that art he practiced. Thus, on that night, she snuck out, face hidden with a mask, gloves on her hands, and a cloak hiding the rest of her with the hood drawn over her mint locks; and ears, for that matter. It would have been a complete give-away if someone had caught her and had seen those ears.

 The laboratory was open, despite her low expectations. It was surprisingly huge inside, filled with old parchments and papers of every sort scattered on every shelf. Some books were lying on the floor. Alchemical notebooks for that matter. So much disorder. Wasn’t there anyone to organize the books on shelves, to arrange those clipboards with illegible drawings on desks? Didn’t the scholar care at all?

 She approached one of the books on the floor and picked it up. Inside, countless diagrams of all types covered the pages along with endless notes she could not comprehend. Sure, those were all familiar words, yet put together they did not make any sense to her.

 Yet, weirdly, she was at peace in that workshop, until the door creaked. She turned around, quicker than ever before in her life. A dark figure stood on the doorstep. They caught her. It was all over. Her family name would be forever tarnished.

 “Who’s the intruder?” A muffled voice asked.

 “O-oh, please don’t tell my family about this!!! I-I did not want to steal, Mister Ti-Timaeus!”

 The man approached her. With their proximity, she would see that he also wore a mask. His hair was light-golden and thick, unlike the scholar that would spend his days there. Still, she was still on alert. Who was that man, and what was he about to do with her?

 The man hesitated, seeing the fear in her eyes. His expression was unreadable. Only his eyes sparkled with the curiosity of the unknown, just like her mental image of an alchemist. Though he was still prudent and restrained. “I am no Timaeus… Do not worry, for I am just like you.” 

 What did he mean by that? Was he also a thief of midnight, seeking Alchemy’s truths? And how could she believe his ambiguous words? But he didn’t seem to want to divulge any other hints about his identity, or so it seemed at least, as silence descended upon them.

“... Wh-what is your name?”

 “I suppose you may call me Calx.”

 “... You can refer to me as… C-Crystalfly?”

 She had never seen a Crystalfly up close before. However, that creature would always remind her of Alchemy as people brought its cores to the crafting table. She had seen pictures of them before, with their fluorescent wings, yet none would show up inside Mondstadt’s walls. Since she considered their cores important for Alchemy, why not make her name a tribute to that, especially if she had to hide her real one?

 “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Crystalfly. Now tell me, what are you doing here?”

 That had all felt so surreal. How could she respond, how could she trust that Calx ? “Tell me your motives first.” She dared to speak.

 “Oh, ehm… I’ve been visiting this place in order to get some alchemical studies for myself.”

 “Can’t you visit it in the daytime?”

 “I believe I could ask you the same question, no?”

 He had caught her speechless. Of course, she couldn’t tell him that she wasn’t allowed to be seen in that disreputable workshop, tended to by a mere scholar during the daytime. It would simply defame her! Alchemy was but a development of commoners in the eyes of the nobility, something not worthy of being studied. Of course, those were not her personal thoughts, but her familial obligations, influenced by centuries of her kin’s rank in the society.

 “Right, then Calx… Let’s keep our backgrounds hidden. Uh, d-do you happen to know any Alchemy at all?”

 “As a matter of fact, yes. I’ve been visiting this laboratory for a few nights now, I think I've grasped the basics. I can use the crafting bench without a guide, transmute a gem into a chunk, and craft some potions as well. The notebooks here are simple to understand, you just have to pick the right one.”

 His eyes lit up as he caught a new wave of energy. That science, Alchemy, seemed so exciting, especially after his change of expression. It sounded like a… pleasant, useful knowledge to hold. So, she dared to ask:

“Uhm, Calx… W-would you be able to teach me some Alchemy as well? It has always seemed so interesting to me.”

 Calx visibly hesitated before giving a final answer. His eyes seemed to scan the room, seeking something Crystalfly could not imagine. He walked – "glided" would have better describe his gentle footsteps – to a tiny cupboard in the corner of the room. And even in the slight darkness, Crystalfly could see a thick layer of dust on it.
Calx pulled out one of the drawers and there lay a leather notebook with pages white as the freezing snow. He handed it to her, putting his hand forward without any sign of hesitation. She accepted it with a slight smile and softly opened it.

 The handwriting was cursive, so easy to understand, compared with the notebook from before. The ink was thick and expensive to her surprise. If that was his writing, then that would have meant that he would be skilled in calligraphy and would seem like a refined gentleman. Impressive, for a person who didn’t seem to belong to aristocracy.

 “Are these your notes?” She asked, skimming through the smooth pages, still fascinated by their simplicity. The first few pages were the common alchemical symbols, some of which she recognized from the other notebook. If she could learn them, she would be so much closer to that science's truth and being.

 “Yes, they are.”

 “Th-They are written so well! You have such a good grasp of Alchemy, so well that I presume that even I can learn from those notes. Calx, you seem to be a much polished scholar.”

 Her high-pitched voice betrayed her sense of excitement. She coughed, a bit embarrassed by her change of character. “Presuming that you are a scholar, of course… Mister Calx.”

 “I… I am honored, but, please, no need to be so formal. We are both in the same situation, I believe. I am not a scholar, nor any preacher of Alchemy… Just someone who is intrigued by Alchemy, just like you.”

 Was that a subtle suggestion that he was also someone who could not be seen hoping to attain some of the knowledge that Alchemy offered? It was but a soundless question whispered by Crystalfly's mind, left with no definite answer.

 Calx looked around him, switching his gaze between the outside and the inside of the workshop. They both were bathed in the modest light offered by the stars sprinkled and the moon above them. She could see the writing in that darkness still, but she chose to observe him instead, his smooth features and chalk-like skin, ironically, an allusion to his name. His untamed hair, his delicate fingers. His azure eyes were more striking and prominent than ever, under the brilliance of the moon. She felt like she could drown in them, and that thought scared her.

 Calx didn't seem to notice her gaze, or, at least, didn't offer her the satisfaction of attention. Alas, he said, in a soft but neutral tone: “You can take my notebook home and afterwards, we can part ways. I see that you have quite the interest to study Alchemy further.”

 Calx didn’t wait for a response before he stood and walked away. As he was about to exit the door, he turned his head to her and simply said, without betraying any strong emotion: “Goodbye, Crystalfly. See you tomorrow.” He chuckled shortly and disappeared into the night, leaving Crystalfly behind with only the sweet memory of him.

⌜✦⌟

 That was how they had met. Their acquaintance had always played a big part in her study of science. For her, the word “Alchemy” represented the late night studies accompanied by conversation under masks. It represented all the times they ran away from the tired Knights of Favonius whenever they caught them with papers in hands. In her utmost sincere opinion, they were not stealing, just borrowing, studying at home, and returning everything the night after. And still, the Knights accused them of stealing, chasing them, though Calx and Crystalfly would always disappear into the night, becoming partners in crime to the commoner’s eye.

 It was on such a night that he asked her, without a warning: “Would you… consider aiding me as my assistant? You’ve accompanied me in many experiments and thoughts, and we still have much more to learn. We can work together in finding out the unknown, the truth of Alchemy itself… and I have faith in both my ability to guide you and in your remarkable flair and desire to learn.”

 A self-proclaimed alchemist, with an unknown identity, asked her to be his apprentice. Did she even need to ponder the offer that much? “I-I accept, Mister Calx!”

 He laughed. Such a soft, rich laughter, coming from within. Afterwards, still amused, he locked eyes with her. Even as tired as he was, with bags under his eyes, he gave her the most endearing and sweet look. “No reason to call me Mister now. We’re friends after all. And even now as your… teacher , forget the formalities. Nothing needs to change.”

 She smiled in exchange. It was something about him that made her agree. Was it his manner of speech and his gentle moves? His charisma, as some would call it? Around him, she felt freer, she felt like herself. Calx was a part of her way of perceiving Alchemy, and Alchemy was a part of her being.

 “Alright, then, Crystalfly, it’s settled.” He smiled softly, then quickly added: “...I have thought of a plan for the next nights, though I need your opinion. This Mondstadt laboratory is… empty, as we have nothing more to learn out of it. So, dare I suggest to you the Liyue laboratory?”

 Calx smiled boldly, his eyes sparkled as though he was offering an untold challenge. “Smirked” would characterize his expression better. What were his actual thoughts? Was he provoking her, aware of her thirst for knowledge?

 They agreed to meet in Liyue in a few nights. She had explained to her family the sudden interest in Liyue’s culture and the unforeseen wish to visit the neighboring region, not believing her own words. However, they accepted her trip nonchalantly and encouraged her in continuing her pursuits.

 The night eventually came and Crystalfly, along with Calx, were both in Liyue. He greeted her at the Crafting table and found the corresponding workshop surrounded by teahouses. They got in, and what a difference! Compared to the old Mondstadt laboratory, the Liyue one was all organized, shining even, with leather books and countless logs on every shelf arranged by subject. A quill and an open journal were lying on a wooden table. That journal seemed like treasure to both of them.

 They had soon found out that the Millelith were better at security than the Knights of Favonius could have ever dreamed to be. As soon as the soldiers saw a door ajar in the darkness of midnight, they grew suspicious. The partners in crime had left enough evidence behind to lead to the idea of Treasure Hoarders in the city center.

 Crystalfly heard them first, her hidden ears twitching. With a subtle glance, she notified Calx, and they grabbed whatever they could, anything they could, in close reach.

 Their stealth hadn’t mattered, for the Millelith already had their eyes fixed on the “thieves”. Borrowers, would be the better word in their view. Either way, they were criminals under the law. And all a criminal could do was run.
Thus, they ran and ran. In comparison to the Knights, the Millelith were many times more and also knew how to do their job. They surrounded Calx and Crystalfly, and at one point, Calx muttered almost inaudibly: “I’m sorry.”

 Before she could ask anything, before she could focus on him, Calx threw a small, hand-made bomb. It was just a distraction, nothing really harmful, creating more smoke than fire. Although, he wasn't an experienced thrower. He had aimed it too close to her, and her glove lit up with a flame.

 She quickly tried to blow away the fire, though that fueled it more instead, beside her expectations. Thus, she created a wind surge to get the glove off her hand, without the need to touch it directly. That was her first time using her Anemo Vision in front of Calx. Yet, she hoped he hadn’t noticed as it was a hint to her true identity, something neither of them wanted to know.

 While the Millelith were distracted by the bomb, he grabbed her gloved hand and ran. To her surprise, when they reached a dead end, he didn’t turn back. Instead, he materialized a Geo construct and they both climbed on it to reach the rooftops. Surely, the Millelith lost their track by then.

 While catching her breath, Crystalfly had wheezed out: “First of all, a-a question! Where did you get that bomb, Calx? And second, y-you have a Vision? ”

 Stunned by the wavering emotion in her voice, Calx hesitated to give a solid reply. After some passing heartbeats, he managed to mutter out: “...It doesn’t hurt to answer. Sit down and take a break." He shrugged his shoulders, keeping his usual calm pose. How could he stay like stone, unaffected by the events around? Was that his way of normal?

 "Now, that bomb was from my little sister. I always keep one on me in case something happens. And about the Vision, I believe I should ask you the same question, no?”

 Oh. He saw her getting that glove off without any physical assistance. As she looked at her hand, Crystalfly noticed she had been... burnt by the flames of Calx's bomb. It left a round, botched spot on her pale hand. And it hurt! There were no blisters, thankfully, but it was just as painful. If only she had cold water at that moment…

⌜✦⌟

 After the pain had become bearable, and Calx finally let out a sigh of relief, they started skimming through the books they took in a rush. Calx, as usual, wrote down as many notes as possible in his familiar leather notebook, while Crystalfly was searching for anything of interest. The book she first picked, a thick one, was telling different methods of Alchemy, its basics and its histories.

 “Calx, look. It has something to do with the Art of Khemia. Have you heard that before? Apparently that art is related to Alchemy. It is Alchemy’s roots, of some sort.”

 “Hm? Sure, I can take a look.” Calx gently took the book from her hands and sat down, skimming through it fast. With each page, he frowned more and more. What made him so confused? When Crystalfly had read it, there was nothing unclear. But she just sat in silence, watching him. She wanted to approach him and gaze at the book, finally discovering what made him so troubled and interested, so they would share that burden together. But she didn't. And that, perhaps, was her mistake.

 “Crystalfly, I think we have made an important discovery! Alchemy, itself, is not something god-given. It is man-made. Man-made!” He raised his head and started laughing. His laugh was a tired one, one of a scientist who had sacrificed his sanity in exchange for self-peace. He continued smiling to himself. Even though their mouths were covered, she would see his eyes grin with bitterness.

 He moved his hand through his ash-like locks, hair shining in the moonlight. Was that the answer he had been seeking for all along? Were those written words such an immediate remedy to the storm that engulfed his mind? Something that would finally give him peace with Alchemy?

Before daring to continue, Crystalfly made an observation. No longer was he the benevolent, avuncular alchemist who pledged his skill in front of her eyes. In that moment, though, his face wore more years than he had bore. It seemed that some sort of knowledge weighed upon his shoulders, chaining him, making him persist on his previous announcement. And he took pleasure in that.

 “And in Khanrei’ah, out of all the places! Oh, the achievements humanity can take upon its own name… without the gods!” He threw away his gloves, revealing his pale hands. For some unfathomable reason, he continued looking at them when he added: "I've had my suspicions, of course, but I never knew Khanrei’ah was the answer.” He suddenly, without a warning, shifted his gaze upon her, and said, while approaching: “If the peak of Alchemy can sustain and aid a nation, then such a nation can be synthesized by boundless research of such a science.”

 Maintaining the glance, never moving away from hers, his voice abruptly changed its tone into a soother, a more reassuring one, adding: “Your wonderland dream, Crystalfly. Don’t you think it’s quite fitting?”

 She could hear the trembling, almost inaudible, plea mounting his voice, the alchemist’s vulnerability bestowed upon her. Was she promising a wonderland to her, or to himself?

 For when he grabbed her arms, slowly and gently, his eyes were seeking acceptance and encouragement. Something she could not offer. Yet, under the luster of the moonlight, his figure would shine, threads of hair glowing, whilst she could only glare, helplessly.

 Crystalfly felt… terrified ; more than she ever did. More than when the bomb was thrown, more than when her glove lit up. His eerie gaze did not help, that comforting touch only frightened her further. He felt different, stiff even, and she couldn’t bear it. Calx wouldn’t scare her at any costs, so why would his eyes continue to plead with her?

 She didn’t know how to respond, how to move away. Thus, she shifted her look to his bare hands, gripping hers. By his fingers, something sprinkled would gleam in the night. Handprints made out of paint. Or was it paint? The texture seemed flaky, ready to fall apart. Were his fingers covered in some kind of… stain?

 Calx noticed where her gaze wandered off to, then let his hands go, slowly. Somehow, she had finally felt more at ease, out of his grasp. She sighed, still afraid, and murmured: “Forget about Khanrei’ah, it’s one with the past. It was long forgotten, Calx.” The coldness in her voice surprised herself to some extent.

“But think of how many secrets can this Art of Khemia hide! If we dive deeper into it, we may find out the Alchemy of an entire nation, thus becoming… true alchemists.”

 True alchemists of a lost, perished land? Therefore, wouldn’t their title have no meaning?

 Crystalfly watched him warily. As her assistant and friend , how could she say no to him, the only one that understood her truly? How could she say no to all the sleepless nights spent together, researching her only love – Alchemy? And how could she say no to the same Alchemy he was putting at stake then?

 But he wasn’t Calx anymore. At least, at that moment, she didn’t recognize him. The sudden burst of laughter, the fear that flooded her being, were all witnesses of his… outbreak, for the lack of a better word.

 “I… I-I will think about it.”

 She couldn’t disappoint his icy teal eyes, yet she couldn’t betray her own morals. Therefore, in the hopeless darkness of the night, she left, without offering a glance back at him.

 After all, there was a ball in Mondstadt the next sunfall.

⌜✦⌟

 When she returned, she couldn't focus on the banquet preparations. Her mind was all distant and occupied. When her family asked her about the burn, she simply shook it off, with a wave of her hand, as a Liyuean allergy. They couldn't know any better, in any matter. But even the word "Liyue" reminded her of the night before. And somehow, it felt so bizarre, the faint memory of it just bringing goosebumps upon her delicate skin.

 But she made sure to analyze that stain he had left on her cloth. It was… chalk, surprisingly. Did he have any use of chalk before their meeting? If so, how didn’t it cleanse inside his gloves, before he took them out? Though, maybe it didn’t brush off, thus it left tints of chalk on his fingers, and, supposedly, that’s why she had it on her arms.

 But she had yet to consider the fact that he was a Geo Vision holder. He could synthesize any minerals with just a wave of his hand. Even though she hadn’t seen his Vision up close, she witnessed its power. Then, why did he mark her with chalk, if he could have controlled his powers? Was it a signature? A manifestation of some kind?

 But that small detail didn’t matter as much as the night awaiting in front of her. She wouldn’t see Calx in the Mondstadt laboratory, as she had been invited to Kreideprinz’s banquet. Chalk, Kreide, Calx… she hoped it would all be a coincidence. It surely was.

 She had her strong opinions about such parties. What was the purpose of all the banter, of all the nonsense gossip, while dressed in lavish costumes? Wouldn’t it be more agreeable to just gather at someone's veranda and simply discuss all subjects on their mind? Was it necessary to put all their effort into foods that would waste, into dresses that would only be worn once? Just because Kreideprinz’s wish to suddenly make a ball?

 Though, she was already used to such thoughts, similarly to how she was used to such banquets. It was in her duty as an aristocrat of Mondstadt, despite the rotten system of hierarchy that dominated the land. Yet, as far as she knew, she could not do anything against it

 Muddled in such thoughts, the day had passed unnoticeably and the night eventually came, ready to make its move. Hopefully, Calx wouldn’t be mad at her that she wasn’t going to arrive at the workshop that evening. Yet, at that same time, she would rather sit through a monotonous party than hear his maddened, pleading voice once again.

 It was improper to go there with a glove covering her hands, yet she disliked the idea of people seeing her burn. If, and only if, someone would ask her out for a waltz, she would have to take the glove off. She had been asked out to dances before, though not as often as other ladies. Thus, she assumed and expected no dance for her.

 Alternatively, she satisfied herself with a pretty dress, the upper part wrapping her chest, neck and arms in white chiffon, having two pale azure, ornamental stars. The chiffon around her chest was covered by a dark blue and brownish corset, having two more golden stars sewed into it.

 The corset ended into a ruffled hem, yet the dress continued to stem from it, black, yet more chiffon would coat it, embracing the blue palette.

 Her Vision was embedded into her corset, though it did not create any discomfort. In fact, it fit with the colors.

 It was her first time wearing that dress, and she, for once, actually enjoyed it. Maybe a part of that enjoyment were her expectations for the banquet.

⌜✦⌟

 She had seen der Kreideprinz on some occasions before, with the corner of her eye though, not up close. Rumors would say that his piercing, unique, blue eyes could scare you, while his hair was the color of chalk itself, and his touch synthesized said powder. Surely, that would be a lie, as only mages could create rock out of nowhere. And, maybe, Vision holders. She shuddered at the thought. It reminded her too much of Calx, who couldn’t be at that festivity, no matter what. Not because he was forbidden to, no, but because it just… wouldn’t fit his restless character.

 She caught the prince when he made his entrance, as he was thanking the guests and wishing them a pleasant night. The tradition, the script. His appearance, though, as the host, shone brighter than everyone else’s. Literally. He wore a white coat, reflecting all the light above him. He had a chain attached to his back, a Vision hanging on it, brightening the look further. The coat was open, and she could see what was under. He wore a dark blue shirt and a vest. Coincidentally, it was the same nuance as her dress.

 They both wore epaulets made out of gold, ornamental shoulder pieces to signify their exquisite rank. His matched the diamond mark on his neck, having the same color. The same shape would be seen in some parts of his outfits, always golden, sometimes meddled with black, which seemed to fit, despite the unusual combination.

 Yet, as she continued to analyze him, she figured that the rumors proved to be true, to her surprise. He had unruly locks, almost white, though slightly blonde. His eyes were indeed shining blue, flickering in light. Though, she wasn’t sure about his touch and whether it created chalk, and refused to believe it. Yet, Der Kreideprinz noticed her glaring, and, to her constatation, she let an embarrassed blush cover her pale cheeks. It was rude to stare.

 Nevertheless he approached her, eyes gleaming with delight and curiosity. Even though it was most selfish of her to think, she concluded that she had caught the prince’s attention. Her ears fluttered in awe but also, a tint of delight. And, as her ears weren’t covered, unlike the nights with Calx, the prince noticed them, his gaze darting away for a second, untamed.

 “As the lumbering, unfailing sun welcomes the ever so abstruse moon during a dim dusk, shall I welcome you hither, dear maiden.”

 His way of being was unlike any other. His smile seemed to cover his face effortlessly, and his voice was modulated, even honeyed. It didn’t seem forced, yet natural, inspiring. He put his bare hand out, left folded behind his back, and bowed symbolically and traditionally, whilst his eyes pierced hers with curiosity. It wasn’t an excess, for his eyes didn’t sparkle, yet she could read his intention all over his face. He was seeking a dance.

 She pulled out her right hand, the ungloved one, the healthy one, and she slowly moved it to the prince’s upward facing hand, letting hers reside lightly on his, facing downward. He touched her soft knuckles with his lips, then regained his previous, straightened position. It lasted less than a second, and while her eyes did not betray any emotions, his smile widened.

 “Your salute is much obliged, kind prince. The splendid moon is always shining its most coruscating whenever the times come that you host your illustrious banquets.”

 She replied, her sweet voice not revealing any stiffness or duress. Maybe she also was akin to him, as words and smiles would come effortlessly?

 “Dare I ask, humbly, for a dance with you?”

 She heard some whispers from around her. Noblewomen chuckling with slight jealousy. Yet, that was not what troubled her. She had to remove her glove, revealing her burn, for the etiquette. She smiled at der Kreideprinz, while slowly taking out the glove behind her back. She didn’t have pockets, frustratingly, therefore she just let it fall on the ground, hoping that no one would notice.

 “I accept, dear prince.”

⌜✦⌟

 A slow waltz dominated the banquet hall, for the violins were cherishing their one of a kind melodies. He led her into the center, and she let him lead the waltz, per custom. Front, sideways, back, sideways. One, two, three, four. The pattern was common, and she hadn’t taken a glance to their feet to understand the rhythm. Instead, she kept her glance focused on him.

 His blue eyes dwelt into hers with satisfaction. The crowd merged in the back, and he would be the only one that she looked at, attracting her attention, outshining everyone else, like the star, the diamond he was. It felt so… familiar , that look.

 She held the prince’s gaze with a soft boldness, whilst his mouth widened in a cool smile. What exactly was he trying to achieve, keeping up with the pace and with the looks, seeming so focused on her and her only? What kind of admiration was he trying to snatch from her?

 “We meet yet again…” He whispered, closing in to her tender ear, making it flutter. “Crystalfly.”

 She didn’t react immediately, yet she shifted gazes between her burned hand and his teal eyes. Again, some dust shining on it. The Kreideprinz was, after all… the same Calx, no matter how much she would try to deny it. They both had the “chalk touch”. Then, all the rumors were true, after all.

 “I plead, dear Kreideprinz, call me Sucrose, for this is my given name. Your majesty must have confused me for another kind maiden, if I would be so bold to note.”

 Sucrose said, revealing her real name. Her voice was cold and rejected his sincere smile, yet, without any emotion in her eyes, she glared at him. And she felt… lost in those eyes. Not on a positive note. She just didn’t know how to act, didn’t know how to accept. Yet, he seemed bemused, overjoyed even, as he returned a gaze so opposite from her own.

 He chuckled, though not forced. His laughter would sound like bells tinkling. Sucrose had heard that laughter before.

 “Then I suppose you could call me Albedo, if we are to address each other by our true names. You shan’t hide from me, milady... Let us meet tonight at the Barbatos statue, as soon as everything is done.”

 Albedo didn’t let her reply, instead he used his quick hands to rotate her, not giving her air to respond. She wanted to protest as soon as she regained her initial stance, yet the violins’ tune had dissipated. The waltz was done, and she couldn’t stand by his side anymore.

 She curtsied him farewell, straight-backed with her head lowered, while gliding across the marble floor, taking her place back. The glove was in a corner, seemingly unnoticed. That was the only object, an insignificant piece of clothing, that gave away her disguise. If it were not for the custom, if it were not of her to leave that glove alone, der Kreideprinz, Calx, Albedo, wouldn’t have recognized her.

 Sucrose did not feel any surprisement of some sorts, or excitement at all. That thought, instead, gave her a little jolt. How could she not feel anything, after figuring out that her partner in crime– in Alchemy, was the prince of an entire kingdom? That she sat with such royalty countless nights, that she saw the true interests of such a powerful figure?

 It was almost like she had expected it, but she hadn’t even thought about such a thing. Perhaps… Perhaps that was because she was willing to accept Calx in every form of his, without any judgment or surprise?

 However, Sucrose did not know whether knowing their pure identities gave her a feeling of regret and sorry, or just… relief?

 Yet, the question did not matter, for Sucrose respected him enough to follow his… plea. Not only was he a prince, a mentor, but a… a friend , she considered, despite their disagreements. She didn’t know what to expect from him anymore. Would it be another round of insanity she’d witness or just another, alchemist night?

 It would be foolish of her to try and guess. Besides, he couldn’t simply ignore the happenings in Liyue, of course. It would just distance them from each other. And, while still upset from what happened in Liyue, she didn’t wish for such a big change to happen. Not while having so many memories together, while holding their friendship, while dancing. She didn’t consider that his status, as a prince, would change the person that he actually was: an alchemist.

⌜✦⌟

 The banquet ended early, maybe because of Albedo's impatience, maybe only because of her wishful thinking. The moon was at its highest when they met at the grandrous, wind-borne, statue. He was sitting high up, in the statue’s cupped hands and she only had to follow. Neither of them were hiding their faces, skin or locks anymore. They were the purest of themselves, so vulnerable in the eyes of each other, so… exposed.

 Albedo no longer wore his royal, formal attire, yet he satisfied himself with a different, long, white cloak, a shirt and a pair of black shorts, accompanied by boots. His Vision stood hanged right below his neck, like a necklace. It shone as great as the moonlight above them, hoping to guide them through their talks.

 Sucrose also changed her clothes, wearing a corset with a bluish hem instead, some white boots and a brooch at her collar, her Vision. She did not try to hide it, similar to Albedo. Both of their outfits resembled their past costumes, coincidentally.

 “I-” Sucrose began, holding her hands close to her chest, the breeze surging gently through her arranged, mint locks. She wasn’t sure what to say exactly, she didn’t know why she began.

 “I am sorry…” He cut her off, louder and clearer, yet she could, once again, hear his cold voice soften at the edges. He seemed to mean it. He really did seem to. “I did not wish for you to witness my madness yesterday night, and I hope you can only forgive my disturbance…” He left on a high note, avoiding her gaze. Why was he so… formal?

 “I… forgive you, Calx. Albedo. But please, loosen up.” She said, a smile edging her cheeks. Maybe it wouldn’t happen again, such a “disturbance” as he would call it. Maybe he knew how he’d act in those situations from then onwards, maybe he really meant it. He did.

 Albedo snickered in return, his straight and restrained posture weakening. He then proceeded to raise his head to hers, his eyes brimming with… unexpected and uncalled joy. How could he be so happy, that even his cold, teal eyes would brighten? Sucrose only saw them do such a miracle whenever he’d talk about Alchemy.

 Albedo troded closer, the same kind of light flickering in his eyes, despite being all dark around. He raised his hands, slowly trying to grip hers. He wanted to make sure she was alright, that she actually forgave him. Sucrose nodded, and saw all the doubt in his eyes disappear as soon as he gripped one of her arms lightly.

 “Then you must have decided to agree with me on the wonderland project?” He asked, searching for an answer in her reaction. Yet she remained still, her eyes moving back between his grip and his face.

 He wanted her to concur. Something inside her, stirred by all that closeness and hope, his hope, made her agree, dipping her head in compliance. She was his assistant, why wouldn’t she want to assist him on his journey into the depths of Alchemy? Yet, how far would they venture?

⌜✦⌟

 Fortunately, nothing had changed between them, except the suits. They still had the meetings after dusk, they still studied Alchemy. Their subjects tended to lean to Bio-Alchemy mostly, and sometimes he even touched the creation of life, not modification.

 He no longer tried to indulge Khanrei’ah into their conversations. However, Sucrose expected he was still reading that “Art of Khemia” book. They never returned that one. It was… stolen, not borrowed from Liyue, then.

 Alchemy still held Sucrose’s heart, it seemed. Bio-Alchemy was certainly captivating, it felt like her branch, her domain. And Albedo was there, encouraging her with his answers and praise. They both worked together, for his– their , wonderland.

 It felt… righteous for her own individuality. Modifying the plant seeds to her own wish, breaking nature's ancient laws. That was all part of being an alchemist, praising the earth while editing it, synthesizing another. For, wasn’t it entertaining to purify the world around, creating her own? Wouldn’t thrill ride her bones while she knew she could break the gods’ rule, creating her own? To purify, modify so many flaws in the name of Alchemy, a man-made art bestowed upon her, would just help her smile. To purify, modify, reach a final result, for their world, would just give her hope in Alchemy itself, an ancient science.

 Or so Albedo thought. Albedo wanted to convince her all that, both directly and indirectly, while he kept eye contact. And he was so believable, so impressive. And she began to trust that a human could change a god-made world, cleansing it to an extent it would be his– theirs. And, as an assistant and friend, she couldn’t say no, yet again.

 A wonderland. Something so desired, the pinnacle of Alchemy. A realm only to themselves. Perfection in all of its languages.

 She mentioned it only once before, and he started the whole project for her careless observation and hidden desire. She felt… touched, softened even. Sucrose herself began to forget the fear that she once hosted in her chest on that Liyuean night. Which, maybe, wasn’t a bad thing, having the old Calx– Albedo back, pursuing their studies together, having that old friendship staying strong.

 Sucrose hadn’t forgotten that he was a prince, as that fact really flaunted in some moments. His elegance would show in his steps, figure and accent, whilst his manner of speech remained the same. He didn’t follow the exquisite manners nobility asked of him and neither did she, whenever they were together. Maybe that expressed their comfort and leisure, away from all life, inside Alchemy.

 And that thought brought Sucrose happiness sometimes, knowing that Alchemy would let herself be however she wanted truly.

⌜✦⌟

 They no longer reached out to foreign nations for knowledge, instead resorting to the Mondstadt laboratory. Yet that didn’t mean their studies would get monotonous. Albedo would sometimes bring studies from Sumeru, using his privilege as a prince to travel back and forth, while Sucrose would remain in Mondstadt, figuring out new discoveries for their wonderland.

 Everything needed a little bit of purifying! The sweet flower stems could have used a bit more straightening, while mints could have had smaller leaves. The wonderland, after all, had to be made out of perfect miracles! And she could alter the alchemy of a plant with just one simple move. It was Bio-Alchemy in its most authentic form. So why wouldn’t she try her hand at making their own nature? For the greater good of their wonderland?

 The greater good. Those would be the words Albedo used when Sucrose would ask him if he’d even return those Sumeru books. He didn’t seem to want to return them, yet he claimed to borrow them. To not return a borrowed book would mean stealing. Then, he’d steal for knowledge? For their greater good?

 In order to make another world, it appeared they had to be against the first one.

⌜✦⌟

   She would usually go out on expeditions, either alone or with Albedo, at night and would analyze each kind of plant and creature, sketching their anatomy down, and finding out ways on how they could modify it to coincide with their dream. For example, to learn the natural environment of Cecilias, and where they could grow, so that in their wonderland they could synthesize Cecilias on a cliff.

 Their plan was to create a realm from scratch, including its soil and sky. It would be similar to the famed adepti’s abodes in Liyue. It was a pity that she hadn’t studied them while she was in the neighboring region. Yet Albedo had books about Liyue’s culture, and they could help, surely? Though, in order to use Alchemy to create such a realm, they had to take samples and purify them to an extent they would be worthy of multiplying in their wonderland.

 A sunny day, in Windrise, was the best candidate for a solo expedition. Even though she was used to night expeditions. 

 She had been to Windrise once before, with her family, when she was way younger, to visit the place Mondstadt was famed for with its beauty. Unfortunately, she didn’t know what to expect, aside from the plants and souls that Albedo told her about.

 She went alone, and thankfully, no one was in Windrise.

 At first, she didn’t foresee the size of that huge oak tree. It was glorious. How did it manage to grow so much in height and width? She heard stories that it was thousands of years old, more ancient than aristocracy itself. Maybe its ancient age was the reason why it was so overgrown?

 She didn’t give it much thought, for her attention had been captivated by sparkles as she approached. Were those… Crystalflies? In their true form?

 It was ironic, for she had never seen a Crystalfly alive, even as she named herself after it. On the night they had met, those cores would be the first thing that came to her mind about Alchemy itself and to cover her identity.

 Yet at that moment, she saw Crystalflies for the first time.

 They were so sparkly, the Anemo energy that surged through them made them shine like the sky above. They seemed to be carried by the wind, all in different spots and directions. She could feel the power they flapped their wings with. She was also an Anemo wielder, after all, she could also feel that pure elemental mastery they would unboundedly fly with. They seemed like specks of lights in the shade of the tree, hiding between its leaves, reflecting the sun. Unbothered by Sucrose.

 Such a beautiful scenery to witness in midday, such a wonder to set her eyes upon. Would Albedo want to change it too? Would Albedo want to purify this perfection? What would he say about the view? That the tree’s roots were too massive for their own good, that the Windwheel Asters were too unnoticeable in the landscape itself? But it was all okay, because they could modify it, purify all those mistakes for their own wonderland. That, in their realm, they could make the roots stay hidden in the ground, that they could make the stems of a Windwheel Aster grow taller, by modifying its alchemy.

 Though, why would Sucrose want to adjust those roots or those flowers? Why would she want to change nature's ancient achievement, just because… he wanted to?

 He wanted to change the world, to create his own. He wanted to flee this one with all of its inconveniences, and make his world, where he could retreat in his own calm realm. It was his idea, his initiative, not hers. Not theirs.

 She would never change this view, because it was one of a kind. She did not want any replicas of this world, for she suddenly… became satisfied with its wonders. She did not need Albedo to teach her how to change a plant’s anatomy to reach the most absolutist result, for this was the most organic and natural result she could ever witness.

 She loved Alchemy, yet his idea of Alchemy was far from her prospect of it. And she leaned into his opinion, hoping that would make them true alchemists, yet changing the world around and replicating it was no Alchemy. It was just theft.

 She fell on her knees on the soft grass, grabbing an Aster. It did not need purifying, it was the embodiment of thousands of years of evolution. Why would she want to change it? Why did she do all this, all along? For who?

⌜✦⌟

 “I heard your footsteps, Sucrose. Come in.”

 It was night and they were in the Mondstadt laboratory, once again. She restrained herself from speaking. Yet he turned to her and glanced at her with curiosity as his eyes lowered to her hands, where the same Windwheel Aster from before would stay.

 “Ooh, an Aster! I see you’ve brought one! I’ve been meaning to check them out, though I haven’t found any fresh ones. I assume you picked it earlier, in Windrise? If we could change its longevity a bit, it would be a great asset to our wonderland.”

 She did not respond. Somehow, she felt nervous. She prepared what she was going to say, yet she felt this gap widen in her chest. Fear. Yet she remained stone faced, not even her ears would flap.

 “It never was our wonderland, though, was it? It was always yours.”

 She spoke, with coldness in her tone. It was the first time she would show no emotion, not even sparkling in her eyes. So ruthless of her to address him like that.

 “Eh-hem… Whatever do you mean, Sucrose?”

 He gulped, confusion written all over his face. Surprise, also. He did not expect her to talk like this to him.

 “I mean, I thought it was us against this world, but you were against mine.”

 “I… I was never against yours.” His voice shifted. His eyes widened. He tried to seem… empathic, understanding, sweet. “I thought that was clear from the beginning!”

 “What, that you wanted to build some kind of nation that Khanrei’ah used to be?! That you wanted to synthesize flowers with Alchemy, with a flick of your fingers and that you wanted a place for yourself, created by your hand, so you wouldn’t put up with this “unpurified, imperfect” world? It is already so perfect, Albedo, why would you want to retreat to another?”

 “I thought you understood, Sucrose! It was our world, not mine! And you aided me all along!”

 Some strands of his hair stood out, covering his vision. He didn’t seem to want to put them back, he didn’t seem bothered. Instead, his pupils would shake with… uncertainty. Every word he breathed hosted question, insecurity, and yet it had also fostered some bubbling, hidden anger behind it. She could read it in his eyes.

 “...You can never become a true Alchemist if all your Alchemy does not respect the world it was born into.”

 That seemed to be the last straw. He suddenly frowned, his eyes turning as cold as the ice that they seemed to represent. He approached her swiftly, clasping her hands with such force that she had to drop the Aster in surprise. She did not fight back, she could not ease his grasp. Though, she did not show any fear on her face, even though she felt that gap in her chest widen more and more. She raised his chin up to him, to see him clearly, to shoot glaciers back.

 His face drew nearer, and he was so close to her. Their noses were almost touching.

 “Don’t you understand…? I did all of this for you!”

 His voice displayed no anger, yet it was oh so hesitant. It was almost trembling. His icy teal eyes didn’t give her the satisfaction of the same emotion. They were not pleading, they were not forcing themselves onto hers. They just… burned with an unearthly intensity, shaking with surprise.

 She leaned in and brushed her lips against his for a moment. Against hers, his lips were so silken, so pure. She closed her eyes, carding her fingers through his unruly locks that had once blocked his vision. Then she retreated, with the memory of those lips pressed against her.

 Albedo accepted the kiss that Sucrose had just offered him. Was it because she couldn’t control herself or was it out of spite? Was it because she desired to ease the tension between them? Did she truly want to ease the tension, to forget everything?

 “I did all of this for you! Don’t you understand that I loved you all along to let myself do this?”

 Sucrose breathed out, raising her tone. She was careful with her pitch, as it was night after all, but she couldn’t just ignore all that emotion that had been brewing in her for the past day. All that emotion she hid in that whole conversation.

 Albedo let go of her hands and stepped back suddenly. He seemed so distressed. His irises started to panic, glancing in multiple directions in a short period of time. He couldn’t hold her gaze. His face expression softened too, suddenly weary, as the bags under his eyes suddenly were accentuated, as his lips began to tremble. Was he searching for words? Did he finally realize that he screwed up in every way possible? That he tried to manipulate her to comply with his wishes, to be by his side?

 Albedo was… afraid. He knew of his mistakes, yet he didn’t know of apologies. He did not appear to want anything else from her, he almost seemed like he had given up on his wonderland dream.

 A part of Sucrose wondered what he would say next even though she knew she didn’t need his words to comfort her. He accepted the kiss. She saw his stunned reaction, yet would he dare to continue the topic? Sucrose didn’t believe that he had it in him to try to comfort her with his honeyed voice, to give her hopes about their wonderland. Instead, in that moment, he was so… vulnerable, so on edge.

 He finally let himself look at her, and it was no authoritarian gaze, no pleading gaze. It was just a simple glance, neither cold, nor warm. Then he suddenly turned his back to her, his hair swinging behind, and left, without saying a word.

 She wept that night, in that lone workshop.

⌜✦⌟

 The next day she couldn’t find the motivation to get out of bed. She wasn’t tired, for she was used to having fewer hours of sleep than average. Yet, she just couldn’t put in the effort. She just wanted to go back to her dreams, but even her dreams would replicate some kind of wonderland, and she didn’t want to be associated with it anymore. Though, to succumb in a fleeting wonderland dream was surely better than to put in the effort in this reality?

 She could see the sun from her window, shining its rays above everyone and everything, including Albedo. It was noon. She had wasted half a day.

 So much energy would be put into getting up and changing her clothes, thus she skipped those steps and kept the same outfit from yesterday. Every action taken drained energy from every inch of her body. Eventually feeling more awake, she then slid her amber eyes across her room.

 There was no plant she hadn’t researched. There was no book she hadn’t read. Everything was already studied, written down and annotated. However, she did not feel the need to buy another book or flower. Even though it was an easy task, she just couldn’t find any motive for why she should do that.

 Though, her thoughts would still return back to the night before. Compared to the banquet day, she didn’t have any event awaiting her to keep her mind distracted. So she tried to distract herself.

 Sucrose tried her hand at tidying her own room, even though her family paid servants to do so. It was unsightly for a noblewoman like her to touch the broom and the cleaning cloths, though she made her room shine.

 Then, she took some scissors, cut off the dried leaves of her flowers and watered them.

 All the cleaning took a while, for it was already evening when she finished. The room wasn’t that big, though the reason for her slowness was her lack of effort. She had cleaned the same spots multiple times because she kept forgetting if she had cleaned it or not. Perhaps, Sucrose wasn’t paying much attention to what she was doing.

 A clean environment was a root of mental well-being, and she knew that her mind was all over the place that day.

 Even though the whole day had passed, she did not feel the appetite to eat until her stomach started to grumble. Even then she did not feel any kind of wish for food. Though, she was called for dinner soon after. She behaved normally, respecting all the manners, then retreated back to her bedroom isolated from everyone.

 Approximately one week had passed since that night. Weirdly, no banquets were held where she could see der Kreideprinz, so all she could do in a day was re-read her entire library, do a round-up cleaning per day and take care of her flowers. Everyday seemed the same, and every morning she had trouble finding the motivation to repeat the day earlier.

 Yet, the nights… She couldn’t sleep well. Maybe it was her habit of staying awake while Mondstadt was sleeping, or maybe it was only her overthinking. Every morning she’d wake up with bigger eye bags than the day before.

 What exactly was she thinking about? Alchemy, Calx, Mondstadt, anything that would come to her mind. She honestly… missed Alchemy. She couldn’t buy Alchemy books, for her family would turn suspicious. And she couldn’t sneak out at night, for she might risk an encounter with Albedo. Yet her days seemed pointless, tiring, angsty and useless to her.

 It could be said that she felt… empty without her Alchemy. Sure, everyday she would write down all the behavior that occurred in her plants, yet she restrained herself from modifying their anatomy. Again, all of her notes were useless, for her plants wouldn’t change if she watered them regularly.

 Re-reading her entire library took a short while, to her surprise. She would read more than two books per day, yet she couldn’t find anything of interest. They were all literature, nothing about Alchemy. It didn’t feel worth continuing her idle activities, yet she couldn’t just restart her Alchemy life once again, not after Albedo left her alone like that.

 It wasn’t the first time Sucrose realized that a big part of her Alchemy definition was taken by Albedo. He was her tutor, she was his assistant in Alchemy. She couldn’t have shared the same spark and experience if she were alone in pursuing that science. Somehow, she was grateful to have someone encourage her and be on her side.

 She was grateful for Calx being there in the beginning. Of course, they could have gone without his wonderland dream, yet she embraced those memories. It just made her realize how strong and deep Alchemy really was, yet it wasn’t her role to pursue those depths.

 Then what was her role at that moment? Isolated in a room, without any Alchemical study? Without any new experiences, discoveries? Without Albedo truly caring about her?

 She knew that Albedo had cared, because as much as he tried to indulge that dream into her, he was always thoughtful of Sucrose. He had always wanted to see the best results from her, he had always been happy to help out. He could not fake that. They were friends, after all. Used to be, perhaps. Sucrose wasn’t sure if they would talk ever again, after his leave.

 She always tried to chase that moment away from her mind. She didn’t want to think about it. Yet all thoughts would carry her to revise that memory. She did not know how to feel about it, she did not want to feel anything about it. It was a numb corner of her mind, avoided by her. She hadn’t processed it just yet, neither did she wish to in the future.

⌜✦⌟

 Even though she’d wake up early, she couldn’t fall asleep, even after days. Everyday remained unproductive, meaningless, yet tiring all the same time. The nights were always the same; thoughts over thoughts she couldn’t remember in the morning. It was an endless, horrible loop.

 Sucrose missed her Alchemy. She missed being productive. She missed feeling alive, just like the lively Mondstadt brimming every morning by her window.

 That temptation was the reason why she went out that night.

 She didn’t bother to wear any coats, cloaks or hoods, for she didn’t think that they held any importance then. If she were to be caught, she would just say she wanted a night stroll or something of the sorts. She did not see the point in thinking of an elaborate excuse, compared to how she used to create some every night before she would meet Albedo.

 As soon as she touched the door, seeing it was locked, a wave of relief washed over her. It meant that Albedo hadn’t arrived. He had always been first. Maybe he was in another nation? Or perhaps, he did not come for the same reason Sucrose hadn’t – the fear of meeting each other.

 She knew how to open locked doors, especially the Mondstadt one. She studied that door countless times. The poor lock had been picked restlessly.

 Inside, the decor was the same. Books everywhere, papers, parchements. Those logs she couldn’t make sense so much time ago were just child’s play to her. It was amazing that she learnt that much, that she achieved her once-impossible goal.

 She approached the classic, dusty cupboard where Albedo’s notebook lay hidden. Somehow, it still preserved those chalk-white pages. Usually, pages would turn yellow after so many nights of usage. Yet those seemed to be stopped in time.

 She skimmed through those pages, revisiting all the notes she already knew by heart. Every symbol inside, his handwriting, every note and scheme. That used to be her manual to Alchemy. Were there any new discoveries made by him, awaiting her?

 The last note was from weeks ago, related to adjusting mint stems. She was there when he wrote down that note, she was there showing him those reshapes. The next page just had “Windwheel Aster Modification Result, Log One” written as a title. That must’ve been drafted for the night when they… fought.

 She turned page after page, that white beginning to sicken her. Emptiness after emptiness. Then, he must’ve abandoned this place, surely? He must’ve abandoned the very Alchemy that made his eyes sparkle with excitement, surely? It was highly unlikely, yet the proof was right in front of her. He left that laboratory forever when he chose to leave.

 Sucrose felt some kind of pity for the man. She couldn’t desert Alchemy – the reason she was there that night – though how could he? She supposed that he would continue his wonderland, isolating from everyone. Yet there was no proof of any recent plans in the mess that the workshop hosted. Alas, where in the world was Albedo?

 “Damn you, Albedo!”

Her voice surprised herself when she spoke aloud. It was too loud, too odd to hear it bounce off the bookshelves and return back to her. An echo was impossible in that filled place, thus it was just her mind.

 “Such an interesting manner to speak about an old friend.”

 The reply came from behind, unusually warm for his voice. It even had a soft chuckle accompany the words at the end.

 The blood froze in her veins. He was there. Her ears started to flutter like Crystalfly wings about to stir up a storm. She eventually turned slowly, seeing him leaning on the doorstep, the moon shining so brightly behind him, giving him a serene aura. Yet his smile was greater, it was from within his being. His eyes would smile, even.

 She gulped at the sight of him, so uncertain of what to do next. She didn’t want to please him, to tell him that she was sorry. It was his fault for pressing his wonderland, for leaving her alone.

 Every muscle in her body was restrained and she didn’t feel the need to speak any word to him. She couldn’t just forgive and forget what he had done. It would have been too foolish.

 His smile faded as the silence clogged between them. In that darkness, she could see that he no longer raised his chin up to act as a powerful figure, he no longer hosted that pride, instead, even his posture slouched. He was human, for once, confused on what to say and how to act, fearful of the outcome. At that moment, he was the opposite of his beloved Alchemy.

 “... I abandoned the wonderland project. It was maddening us both. Not that I wasn't already–... I am so, so sorry. You did not deserve that part of me, you did not deserve my incoherent rambling. It was not worthy of you. I was such a fool to allow myself to trick you into believing every word I said, to make you oblige to my wishes… I am so, so sorry, Sucrose.”

 Her name breathed from his lips, so warmly. Such a delicate sweetness she could hardly imagine. She stopped her restraint when he heard his message. It would be as his blue eyes, lit by the moonlight gleam, were flooding her veins, changing her blood, making her accept him as a human being, not some kind of mentor, not some kind of prince.

 His tone did not hold any expectation, any pity. Albedo just had to state something. And he did. He gave the impression to believe so endearingly in his words, that Sucrose began to think that he actually meant them. Many nights ago, at the Barbatos’ statue, he atoned for his outbreak. He seeked acceptance and forgiveness. Back then, Sucrose was ready to offer it to him without any doubt, thinking that he had meant his apology.

 Yet his current words seemed much more real than that memory. They seemed human, they seemed alive. His teal eyes did not seek understanding. His words did not seek any kind of forgiveness. Albedo just wanted to get something off his chest, something that would rot him from inside. And to her, it was so… natural for him to do so.

 It was just a heart-felt apology, nothing too complex, nothing too puzzling. Yet, in that moment, she couldn't think of a response, something that would satisfy her . It was all too overwhelming to bear. Maybe a part of her didn’t yet analyze the whole situation fully. Or maybe, didn't want to believe that he was there, even. That he returned, after leaving her for so many days and nights.

 She couldn’t forgive him at that moment. She didn't find the impulse to do so, interestingly… How could she, after all that? After he manipulated her, after he left her alone, stranded? A part of her wasn't ready to forgive and forget, and she knew it was alright for her to think like that. To acknowledge that some… mistakes weren’t so easy to forget. That she wasn’t pressed to forgive him.

 That wave of both fury and empathy was too overpowered for her to handle. She couldn’t forgive him. She didn't want to. As he said, it was maddening them both.

 It was a pity though, to repeat his actions. To leave. Yet, she did leave, avoiding his gaze.

⌜✦⌟

 Sucrose knew what her silent departure looked like, for she was once the witness on the other side. She knew what kind of desolation it brought, what sort of emptiness it left behind. Was it wrong of her to repeat Albedo's actions? Did that act just make her seem more like him?

 She wasn’t him, she never followed his dreams, only his passion for Alchemy. Yet, that didn't mean he was someone worthy of leaving. Albedo, after all… was her friend. And friends do not abandon each other like that. He seemed to have learned from his mistake yet she repeated said mistake.

 Nevertheless, between all of those thoughts, she didn't glance back. She wasn't ready to.

 The following day was filled with those same thoughts, thoughts that didn't align with her emotions. She shouldn't have left him like that; she couldn’t just forget him that easily. Perhaps… Sucrose just needed some time alone.

 Yet, she had had plenty of time alone the days before. Though, in none of them had she tried to comprehend her own feelings. It was no easy task. Thoughts and emotions were not something physical, something she could feel the texture of and modify them to her own will. No, emotions were all in her mind and heart.

 The first morning after, she tried to analyze and process everything inside her head.

 Why had she felt the need to leave so suddenly? Because…  she wasn't sure how to act. And in that moment, she had just recalled the actions of Albedo, when he too wasn't sure how to act. She just copied his solution, his way out of that situation.

 Was it a bad thing to leave? Perhaps, it was. Sucrose knew how it felt to leave someone in the middle of the night, without speaking a word. She was upset that she didn't respond to his apology. However, how would she have responded?

 Was she ready for an "I forgive you, Albedo"? Did he truly deserve it? Sucrose… Sucrose wasn't sure. After all he had done, he was sorry. Truly, for she had read it in his eyes.

 It was wrong of her to just return his act. She wasn't like that, neither was he… anymore. Then maybe, just maybe, she could meet his new self, could get accustomed to him, and continue living with him? For Alchemy, for them.

 Those thoughts lured her into returning.

 Sucrose hadn’t prepared her words, yet she wished they would come as freely as a summer breeze to her.

 Albedo was already there, standing up with his notebook in hand, as per expectations. He seemed surprised to see her, by how his head suddenly jolted, while his eyes seeked a threat. For a brief second, his icy teal gaze met hers, yet he slowly turned his head away. Was it because Albedo didn’t want Sucrose to see the warmth in his eyes? The curiosity? Was he truly ashamed of that?

 Sucrose gripped the ends of her cloak nervously. Her ears started to flutter. Her biggest fear– indecisiveness – was then eating her alive. She did not have any plan, for it was wrong of her to head in without anything in mind. It was her first time doing so and would be the last.

 Sucrose tried to calm herself with a soft sigh, almost inaudible. Albedo turned his head back to her, obviously aware of the situation, yet he did not try to console her. He was so quiet, unusually quiet for him. Though it was not strange, for he did not seem impatient. Instead, his aura brought Sucrose a sense of familiarity, something so warm. He wasn’t expecting an answer. He was just expecting… her.

 “I… Albedo, I-I don’t think I-” Sucrose stopped, her voice starting to shake. She released the grip around her cloth because her fingers were already turning numb. In a haste, she started to blink, yet she had no need for such a hurry. Was it panic that gripped her body? For some unknown reason, she bit her bottom lip. Maybe to shut her voice down, maybe to not let something escape her mouth.

 Yet, small tears escaped her being, springing from her eyes, leaving traces on her cheeks. There were very few of them, almost transparent yet still glowing in the placid moonlight seeping from the door.

 Sucrose slowly wiped them away with the palm of her hand, trying to make them disappear along with the strange sentiment that they brought. She felt stuck, numb even, unable to remove her tears.  It would be as needles pierced every nerve of her body, forcing it to remain still, burning her body, losing all of her senses at once. She just… couldn’t move, at all, so she remained still, quietly letting a tear slide down her cheek while being watched by Albedo.

 He approached her, walking once again with confidence in his footsteps, yet she could see hesitation in his actions. His gentle footsteps advanced, his arms open midriff. Eventually, he hugged her, his arms banded around her.

 She hadn’t been held like that before, especially not by him. Was that a… a vulnerability? Another one of his mind tricks? Though, in all that gnawing doubt, she did feel that numbness being replaced with warmth.

 While her head rested on his shoulder, she could not see his expression. He pulled back, as if reading her thoughts. His unruly ashy locks were covering his face, hiding its true feelings. So Sucrose dared to softly move them away, dared to confirm for the last time whether Albedo had changed or not, even though she already knew the answer. Only tenderness could have been read on his soft face at that moment. Albedo seemed just as lost as she was, he seemed to want her company as much as she needed his.

 Was that the new Albedo she once thought of? Her old friend, with new ambitions and thoughts? Yet still the same, while discovering the truth of Alchemy? Yet still the same, while having speeches as a prince? Still, changed, changed for her, changed for the better.

 An embrace worth thousands of words. Both the end and the beginning of their journey. And Sucrose was so, so happy for wandering upon the right path, for returning to him. And she knew that he would return to her too, always. Between all those thoughts, she could feel her heart pounding, as lightly as a Crystalfly’s wings. She also felt Albedo’s heart pounding too against her chest, in the same rhythm.

 Did those united heartbeats mean, that after all the time and trials they faced, they had always shared the same love for both Alchemy and the Alchemists?

 To the two, even without the need of words, they knew they had a shared love, for alchemy, and for each other.