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If you were to remove one part of an ecosystem, if you introduce a new thing to the ecosystem, you will kill it. Aether knows this: he’s watched entire species get wiped out in an instant over the course of his long, long life.
Ecosystems are robust things – but yet still fragile in the grand scheme of things. It’s far too different to the empty, lifeless voids of space – Sumeru is brimming with life, the rainforest full of hidden things, the desert sands that hide the critters that have evolved to survive the unforgiving conditions that it can offer.
In the middle of all this is Aether – star, god, boy – who lets dendro curl around his arms and sink into him, ready to bloom and sprout at a moment’s notice.
---
After the samsara – after the nightmare of the world repeating itself over and over again – Aether gets a migraine. It’s not helped by heavy scent of spices that linger in Sumeru City’s markets, so he makes the executive decision to allow Paimon to guide him to Gandharva Ville to find the quietest, darkest part of the place to curl up and ride out the pain. He ends up wedging himself between the roots of the tree that holds most of the structure up, closing his eyes and trying to quiet the pulsing of his head. Paimon settles on the root next to him, a light novel in her hands as she quietly reads, staying silent. Despite everything, she still knows the toll of the samsara on him.
It is interrupted by a soft “Aether? What are you doing down here?” and Aether makes a groan of discomfort as he opens his eyes to a concerned Tighnari, crouched down in front of him, frowning at his dishevelled state.
Aether, in too much pain to actually speak, just limply lifts his hands and signs something, probably along the lines of “Head hurt. Go away,” or something similar, not caring if the sign language he used was Teyvat Common or not.
Judging by Tighnari quiet “What?”, it was not Teyvat Common. Thankfully, Paimon drags Tighnari away to quietly explain Aether’s situation, with a lot of big gestures and half-remembered explanations on the structure of stars and nuclear theory, most which fly over Tighnari’s head, before he leaves, quietly promising to bring Aether some pain relivers.
Aether gives a thumbs up, a wince, and drops right back to sleep.
---
“Nara Aether!” Ararycan exclaims as Aether and Paimon walk past to get to the fishing spot just outside of Vanarana. “White Floaty!”
“Oh, Ararycan!” Paimon exclaims, eagerly taking control of the conversation. Aether appreciates Paimon’s willingness to do so – some of the Aranara had stared at him blankly when he started rambling about chemical compositions and the existence of mushrooms as a concept. So he stopped, and let Paimon take over instead.
Ararycan, however, was kind enough to not really care and still ask Aether for things sometimes – comparable to commissions if commissions were just show Ararycan any new flowers from beyond the borders of Sumeru. Sometimes they take it a step further and send a request to the Adventurers’ Guild, although Aether not sure if Katheryne knows what a dirt and grass stained piece of paper with “flower please” scribbled on it means, with 200 mora piled on the side.
“Does Nara Aether have any new flowers for Ararycan?” the little Aranara asks, and Aether twists his fingers as he shakes his head.
“I’ve been dealing with…issues,” Aether mutters. He had a second migraine when he was thinking of dropping back into Mondstadt for a quick check in, and took that as an omen.
Ararycan droops, and ponders. “Can Ararycan come travelling with you?” they ask, and both Aether and Paimon freeze.
Paimon grins, unsure. “What makes you…ask?” she manages to force out, unsure if Ararycan was serious or not.
“Ararycan wants to see more than the forests!” they exclaim, bouncing up and down. “Also Ararycan knows how to make Nara Aether’s headaches stop hurting. It’s like Marana. Very bad.”
Aether grimaces and mentions that they might go into the desert, and that wouldn’t be very fun for an Aranara, would it?
“But Aranimba is in the desert, aren’t they? They send post cards from there!” Ararycan exclaims, and Aether groans. He can’t exactly argue with that kind of logic there, can he?
---
In Sumeru, wisdom and logic are preferred, and dreams must be left to children, to be forgotten entirely.
In Sumeru, their current god is locked away, like a fish in an aquarium, like a songbird in a cage. But for what humanity forgets, the forest remembers.
There is a brief moment, before they are forced to abandon Nahida – occupying the puppet of Kathryne – to the whims of the Doctor, where Ararycan goes “Oh! It is the Dendro Archon!” before they are forced to flee, Aether holding two little bodies against him.
---
A little head pat for Karkata, who trills happily, recognising Aether and Paimon for who they are. It sings a little bit too – Aether taught him that Ruin Guard’s song from 2 years ago, and now Karkata quietly sings it every now and again, much to the entertainment of others.
The peaceful moment is shattered however, when Hypasia rambles on about a new god, when she makes them try an incense that reveals the backstory of Scaramouche, of the mercenaries that had hunted them down and destroyed Katheryne, and just before Nahida’s mind crumbles apart, there is a jump, a swap-
“I see you.”
-and the world rights itself seconds later, as Aether is all but slammed back into his own body. He blinks away the vertigo, and stares at Tighnari, Paimon and Ararycan, who all look at him in concern.
“Hi,” Aether says, waving. Ararycan is the only one who waves back. “What did I miss?”
---
Aether is used to constant temperature changes – some worlds were not very kind. The researcher’s station was in the middle of a field that iced over in the winter. Aether’s walked deserts before. Ararycan floats behind him, humming a song as they ooh and ahh at the sandstone cliffs. Paimon has long since disappeared into her own subspace, unable to keep up with the intense heat.
Alhaitham, by comparison, keeps looking back at Ararycan like they’re a particularly odd looking bug.
“So the Aranara are real?” he asks for the sixth time in a row, and Ararycan nods, still humming.
“Ararycan is as real as Vana is! As real as Nara Aether and White Floaty and Nara Alhaitham are!” they say, clapping their paws together.
“Kaveh wasn’t just insane?”
Paimon choses to pop out of her subspace at that moment, dropping a hat on Aether’s head – a straw one from Inazuma, a good-luck gift from Thoma when he heard about their plans to head to Sumeru – yawning sleepily in the desert heat.
“Paimon knows that you told us that Kaveh is your roommate – but Paimon doesn’t know who is suffering more here.”
---
“All this desire for divine knowledge, and for what?” Aether asks into empty air. “Nothing about it is particularly interesting.”
“Care to share?” a voice calls out, and Aether turns his head to see Cyno, standing with a hand on his hip, red eyes narrowed. “Sounds like you used the Canned version of it, from the looks of things.”
“Ah,” Aether says, hands up in surrender. “No, it’s not that. It’s just…how should I put this…”
Aether ponders. Cyno’s mortal. He’s not one to be concerned with things like entropy and how the stars all burn themselves out at some point. Cyno’s never heard of nuclear fission. He’s never concerned himself with the idea that all life came from the ocean, once.
Aether knows. Once upon a time, the desert was an ocean, before it was swiftly drained by something shifting and changing in the landscape. There are fossils here – deep sea organisms left to be compressed under layers upon layers of sediment.
“I’m old,” Aether settles on, staring up at the night sky. The desert is cool at night, prompting Aether to sit outside and talk to himself. “13 billion years old, some might say.”
Cyno frowns, as if he is trying to refute that point. “That would mean…wouldn’t you be older than the oldest archon? Rex Lapis, of Liyue?” he asks, and Aether huffs a laugh.
“I’ve see stars be born and die before my very eyes. I’ve seen entire species appear only to go extinct.” Aether says, smiling. He feels a bit sad today. He sometimes wonders why. “The desert used to be an ocean, tens of millions of years ago.”
Cyno cracks a smile – rare and joking. “Do you have a source for that?”
“I saw it with my own eyes,” Aether answers easily, returning his gaze to the General Mahamatra. “Shouldn’t that be enough?”
---
When Dehya proposed to exchange her right arm for the freedom of everyone who has been stolen from their homes, for a deal to just go right, everyone voices their complaints.
All except Aether, who recognises a ruse for ruse’s sake.
“Got nothing to say, traveler?” Dehya asks, and Aether only tilts his head, considering his words.
“I trust you,” Aether says, his words slow and sure. “To not let yourself get hurt.”
---
And when the sand sinks, and when the tectonic plates beneath the desert shift just so, Aether feels the sky sing to him and he just reaches out, just so.
The remnants of Nahida’s power makes itself known. Mass warps space, so Aether just warps space just a bit. Just enough. Somethings that tugs on the last few dregs of power he had clung onto for two years straight.
For the sand not to kill, for the drop to not be as harsh.
Because for all that he is, Aether is still a star, still a god, still a boy. Paimon clings to his cape and Ararycan grabs hold onto his scarf as Aether pulls.
Mass warps space. Why shouldn’t Aether be able to do that too?
---
“Oh!” Ararycan says, spinning in a circle as they arrive in the final chamber of the domain that was buried under the sand. “Queen Aranyani has blessed this place!”
“Queen…Aranyani…?” Dehya asks, furrowing her brow. “Who’s that?”
“Greater Lord Rukhadevata,” Aether translates easily, staring up at the large tree that takes up the centre of the space. It feels like time almost stood still. He traces his gaze along its twisted trunk, drinking in the sight.
The jackal statue, that stands watch over them all, is covered in a thick layer of dust. No one has been here for centuries, it would seem.
“Yes, yes!” Ararycan answers, nodding. “She used to be very good friends with King Deshret! But then something happened with the Nara in King Deshret’s kingdom, so Queen Aranyani went to go help them!”
Ararycan pauses, putting a paw against their face. “But she never came back, according to the stories.”
“You don’t remember?” Alhaitham asks, an eyebrow rising.
Ararycan shakes their head. “The forest will remember, but Ararycan does not. Sorry.”
“Oh, it’s okay!” Paimon says, perching herself on Aether’s shoulders. “We can’t expect you to have all the answers Ararycan!”
And then, Alhaitham produces the Head Priest’s final memories, and they all fall silent, as they watch through the memories, one by one.
---
No matter how you look at it – Aether is a foreign entity to the ecosystem that is Teyvat. His presence alone destabilises the very body of the land. Stars aren’t meant to walk among everyone else – radiation is never meant to be around those who cannot handle it.
The desert is empty and vast, and Aether has never felt smaller. Sometimes, when the nights are cool, and his head is too loud, he’ll lay in the sand and stare up at the sky, to stare at unfamiliar constellations. Mona’s given him a map of the sky once, with constellations drawn on it so that he could map them to the sky he sees now.
Sometimes, he absentmindedly draws out old constellation maps in the sand. Sometimes, he writes out half-aborted chemical formulas for the various things he sees in his life. Sometimes, he just absentmindedly stares off into the distance, picking at bandages that wrap around and hide Lichtenberg Figures, and any new wounds from sight.
Aether is a star, a god, a boy. But for Sumeru, and all that it is worth, he has once again become a hero and become an interloper.
There is sand running between his fingers – crushed quartz slipping past, and Aether considers the universe at large.