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Dawn breaks, and Xiao opens his eyes with the first faraway songs of mountain wind and crane wing outside. His rest is not sleep— it never is— but that he can sink into the drifting shadows of his own mind for hours without fear…
Xiao looks over and down, the luminescence of his own eyes just enough to cut though the darkness of their windowless room. Just enough to turn the soft face and hair on the pillow beside him to a living gold.
Aether is so beautiful that Xiao aches at the sight of him; aches, and yet can never look enough. Gently, he picks up a trailing lock of Aether’s hair, rubbing it between his fingertips just to feel its silken strength. More proof that Aether is still hale and well.
With an incoherent sound, Aether stirs and curls further into Xiao’s side, the warmth of his body searing down the side of Xiao’s thigh and calf. And when Xiao reaches out to place a hand on his cheek, he tilts his head into the touch without so much as a pause, lips brushing dry and rough against Xiao’s palm.
Such mornings as these spent with Aether are always bliss, but today it is enough to make Xiao foolish, just for a moment.
“Ae—” he whispers without thinking, the rest of Aether’s name swallowed up by the rasp of a long night without speech and the silence of the room.
The sheets rustle softly as Aether falls perfectly still, then lifts his head. “Mm?”
Aether’s eyes are heavy-lidded with sleep, his hair is tangled in a wild frame about his face, his robe is slipping halfway off one shoulder, and Xiao cannot breathe for how little he deserves even to behold this star wearing mortal form.
“Ae,” he says again, because he wants nothing more than to make sure Aether knows how grateful Xiao is for his presence, for him, but he does not have the words.
“Yes?” Aether answers, low and sweet, and Xiao melts when Aether sits up all the way and pulls Xiao into his arms. “Lumine used to call me that, you know. She was the only one who ever did.” Aether pauses, then laughs. “The only one who ever dared.”
At that, Xiao stiffens. Aether does not seem particularly displeased by Xiao’s apparent slip, but if the name is for someone else’s lips only…
“Your sister,” Xiao recalls, and Aether nods.
“She was the only one I ever allowed myself to be close to for… a very long time. And even before that, I’d never found anyone like you.” Aether dips his nose into Xiao’s hair, and Xiao resists the urge to lean back into the touch. “You can call me that if you like. It just might take me some time to get used to hearing it.”
The bond between them rings clear and certain when Xiao reaches for it, but the faint thread of sadness, of regret, in Aether’s voice is too much for him to ignore.
“No,” Xiao says, closing his eyes. “If that name is hers, then it is not mine to borrow until she returns. I have no wish to either replace her or awaken unwanted memories.”
“Xiao…”
“Aether,” Xiao replies, ensuring that the syllables come out whole and steady, and he knows that this was the right choice when Aether does not attempt even a weak argument.
A sigh, then— “I’m so glad it was you who first happened across me in that valley,” Aether murmurs, and Xiao opens his mouth to argue that nigh any other adeptus would have been better— only be frozen, a startled whine escaping his throat when Aether ever-so gently closes his teeth over Xiao’s unguarded nape.
The pressure is light enough to leave no marks, not even a faint indent, but all Xiao’s thoughts flit from his mind regardless, leaving him a blank scroll beneath Aether’s touch. He scrambles for a moment, the struggle carved into his bones, before remembering who it is that holds him and falling still, helpless against the one who keeps his Heart.
Why had Aether done that? Fear and relief rise in twisted unison— as they always do when he so utterly gives up control.
“Oh?” Aether says, quiet even in his surprise. “I didn’t think… no, never mind. That was a little too much, huh?”
Strong, warm hands smooth over Xiao’s shoulders, pulling and turning him about until he is tucked in Aether’s lap, head resting at the crook of Aether’s neck, and oh—
Xiao surrenders himself to the glittering constellations of Aether’s touch upon his mind, the sweetness of Aether’s scent filling his lungs and steady rhythm of his pulse soothing in Xiao’s ears.
“So perfect,” Aether murmurs into Xiao’s hair as he strokes down it, and a shiver wracks Xiao’s body as the words settle deep within. Perfect. Perfect.
Xiao is small and held, his Heart safe, his body whole. Not once does Aether push further, and the curl of fear that always, always lingers in Xiao’s chest remains just that— faint and easily smothered by the truth of Aether’s gentleness.
“Please,” Xiao whispers, uncertain what he is even asking for, but Aether gives it to him anyway. An overwhelming purity, like the one that had first cleansed his Heart, washes over him— enough, even, to momentarily wipe away Xiao’s past as the herald of death. To make him forget that he had been barely a breath away from falling the moment Aether saved him.
The sound of footsteps pattering through the distant halls is audible by the time Xiao rises back to the surface of consciousness; Aether placing a feather-light kiss on the mark between Xiao’s horns as they part.
“Are you alright?” Aether asks, and Xiao can only nod mutely, words still too far out of reach in his daze. Stroking an idle thumb over Xiao’s wrist, Aether continues. “Today is only a half-day of training, so… is there anything else we need to do between now and lunchtime?”
“You should… do what you want,” Xiao says stiffly. “We have spent too much time training Chongyun, and you have not properly rested. I will take care of our other duties in the palace today.”
Aether pushes at Xiao’s arm, but it is not a cruel motion. “Hey. I’m not going to make you stay and do chores while I’m out playing somewhere.” He pauses. “Why don’t we do something together? I’ve been wanting to try flying again lately, and Zhongli told me I could use one of the wind gliders in his hoard.”
Xiao straightens a little. There is still work to be done here, but flying… and flying with Aether at that—
He gives in to temptation with a dip of his head, and the sting of that failure lessens somewhat when Aether turns a sun-bright smile upon him in reply. “Then let me just get something to eat, and we’ll go see what Zhongli has in his collection. I can make you some tea, too, if you feel like eating today?”
Xiao considers it. His body is at ease after Aether’s touches, Chongyun’s sea of purity is both keeping shadows at bay and quieting Xiao’s senses, and no unpleasant memories have risen to scratch and hiss at the back of his mind. Perhaps he will be able to join Aether at the table.
--
Breakfast is swift, with Chongyun already having eaten and left for his morning meditation, Lord Rex still tucked away in his chambers, and Barbatos apparently somewhere beyond the mountains of Jueyun Karst. Xiao drinks without complaint the honey and bitter tea Aether places before him, then watches carefully to make sure Aether eats the fill his body needs— because occasionally, Aether almost seems to forget they are no longer trapped in the desolation of Nantianmen. Xiao’s duty is to ensure he never starves again.
Later, they weave their way back through the halls to the palace treasury, carefully padding by the relaxed, slumbering coil of Lord Rex in his nest and in among the mounds of silk and gold— and gliders.
Despite the bottomless nature of Lord Rex’s hoard, there must be some strict rule by which Aether sorts through the gliders, because he works his way through the pile in a matter of minutes, not hours, even without Xiao’s help. By the end, Aether has apparently decided upon a pair with a gilt frame and turquoise-stained paneling, and together they whisk back outside, stepping through the front gates and out onto the cliff on which the palace sits.
Aether pauses for a moment at the edge, closing his eyes and tipping his head back into the wind— so Xiao stops too, content to follow wherever his Heart goes.
“It’s a beautiful morning for a flight,” Aether hums, and Xiao stares out into the soaring blue sky, the thin mists that swirl low about the stone forests of Jueyun Karst, and the sprawl of orange and yellow gingkoes that bring color to the plateaus and mountainsides. Little as Xiao has ever stopped to wonder at it, there is indeed something here that makes the space beneath his ribs feel light and mutes his churning thoughts.
Well,” Aether says, snapping the glider out behind him as he opens his eyes again. “I guess this will do. It’s been a while since I took my gliding exam, but… You won’t let me fall, right?”
And Xiao meets fathomless, eternal gold of Aether’s gaze, now bright with excitement, and knows he would give up anything to keep those eyes upon him. “Never.”
A smile pulls at Aether’s lips, and in the next moment, he is diving off the cliff’s edge, arrowing down headfirst only to swoop upwards on the next rush of wind. Xiao plunges after him, pulse throbbing in his ears— though whether from fear or joy, he cannot tell.
Aether yelps as he wobbles, the wind dancing eagerly around him, and Xiao commands the currents to still. Power rises clean and easy to his fingertips, and he loops around the sweeping tips of the glider, ready to catch Aether at even the slightest sign of danger.
A wave of gratitude sweeps down the bond, and then Aether is leaning into the breeze, drifting down and away through the gauntlet of trees and stone spires that fill the valley. Xiao follows closely, keeping the glider stable and calling small updrafts to lift Aether up wherever he can find them; but it soon becomes clear that Aether would have had no trouble even if Xiao were not there.
It is one thing to understand that a being of the stars would also have had the power of flight, and another thing entirely to watch Aether control his glider with the ease of one born in the sky, weaving between the narrowest gaps of the pillars and even collapsing and reopening his glider in midair to dodge outstretched branches.
A wild laugh bursts from Aether’s throat as he freefalls, then forces the glider open again in a tightly controlled spiral that turns him to a ribbon of gold. “Xiao!” He calls, and Xiao comes to his side, startling when Aether’s hand darts out to grab his, linking their fingers together.
It’s warm, but the burst of Aether’s pleasure through the bond is what truly sends sparks scattering through Xiao’s chest.
They fly in tandem for a while, and like this, Xiao can bring Aether alongside for far more maneuvers and tricks than a glider could manage alone, no matter how skilled the user. Xiao falls backward for a while, Aether floating above him and unwaveringly holding his gaze; they bring both their hands together and use their momentum to spin round and round, their bodies perfect counterweights; and Aether closes his glider entirely and opens his arms, utterly trusting in Xiao’s ability to catch him. Xiao is floating on far more than just air.
But in the end, Aether’s glider is just that— without wings or Vision to carry him back up again, all he can do is descend.
They land in the shallows of the quiet, mountain-shadowed river at the bottom of the valley, Aether’s feet feather-light when they touch the ground. His glider folds shut and disappears as Xiao comes to stand beside him, and with that, the thrill is over.
Aether takes a deep breath and blows it out again, then rolls his shoulders back and shakes himself much like some small creature ridding its fur of the rain. “It really has been a long time since I’ve tried that… I didn’t realize how much I’d missed it.”
“…We can fly every day if you wish,” Xiao offers, but Aether shakes his head with a faint smile.
“No, I didn’t mean that much. And besides, it’s a little sad too. Like… only being able to see the world through clouded glass, or a mirror of what once was.” Aether falls silent for a moment and doesn’t explain further. “Anyway, we did come pretty far, didn’t we? I don’t think I’ve ever been in this part of the valley before.”
Xiao allows his own gaze to wander. “Perhaps. There is little to be seen here. Even during the Archon War, this land was not often contended.”
“…I guess that makes it pretty unlikely that Lumine is here, right?” Aether says unexpectedly, taking a step away so Xiao can no longer see his face. “Not that I can feel her presence anyway. Somehow, no matter how far I travel, no matter how much I recover…” he swallows audibly. “I don’t understand. No one, nothing, has ever been able to keep us apart for this long before.”
Aether’s words trail off in a whisper, and Xiao creeps forward until he can see past the curtain of Aether’s hair and to the glimmering eyes and trembling mouth hidden behind.
“…Aether,” he dares to say, and Aether’s head bows further.
“What if she ended up like me? Trapped and powerless and unable to recover without help. What if someone like you never arrived? Or what if she met an even worse fate? If I’ve left her to die in the hold of a dream prism of her own…”
Xiao makes a low sound, unsure of what he should say or how he should ease the thorny ribbons of despair that twine from Aether’s side of the bond, and Aether remains silent for a while more. Then—
“…Hey Xiao?”
“Yes?”
“Help me forget?”
And Xiao tenses. There had been many adepti who had gone to great, terrible lengths to forget as Aether now wants to, and many of them had never fully returned, if at all. “…How?”
“Just… distract me,” Aether says, almost wistful. “There’s nothing I can do for Lumine right now, but I’ll only think up the worst possible scenarios and get caught up in the past if you leave me be. I don’t want that— for myself or for you. So…”
He turns to face Xiao fully, sword falling into his hand as a challenge comes to gleam in his eye. “Make me yours, even if it’s just for a while.”
A shiver washes over Xiao’s entire body at the thought, at the flash of how Aether might push Xiao to his limit, all fierce gold and wild desperation , and how Xiao might defeat him in the end, their sweat mingling as Xiao holds him down and presses hands over his eyes, forcing him to be still. To breathe.
Then again, perhaps it is Xiao who would be made to fall back under Aether’s power, and he would go down without so much as a thought in order that Aether could take control, could cry his fury against Xiao’s throat and burn invisible fingerprints into his skin.
Whatever the outcome, Xiao will gladly assist Aether in this method of forgetting. His spear glitters into being almost without his permission.
A long exhale leaves Aether’s throat, and Xiao moves with it, carefully stifling the power of his Vision before plunging forward, the tip of his blade aimed straight for Aether’s sternum. Of course Aether knocks it away in a wide, graceful arc, and there they both still for a moment, chests heaving despite having come together for but a single blow, weapons held away in the positions in when they had finished their strokes.
Then it is Aether’s turn to strike, and from there, they do not stop. Xiao has seen Aether’s prowess with a sword many times by now, but familiarity does not diminish his wonder as Aether forces Xiao to swing faster, block harder; as he cuts the faintest line of blood into Xiao’s cheek, as Xiao begins to burn the fuel of his adeptal strength just to match Aether’s deadly perfection.
More and more he pushes himself, because Aether had wanted to forget, and Xiao had promised to let him. He must not fail.
A lock of Aether’s hair scatters through the air as Xiao slices it away, but Aether only spins about with white-hot fire in his eyes, a focus that burns away all else. Good. Now he simply needs to redirect.
When Xiao falls back to lead Aether down the length of the valley, he can only call it fortunate that he must retreat in the direction he intended to go, fighting as desperately as he is against Aether’s incredible strength. If Xiao used his Vision, perhaps he could achieve victory, but without it…
A new kind of shiver curls down his spine. After all, in a clean match of blades, it has been a very long time since any other than Lord Rex has had a chance of defeating him.
They have nearly reached the mountain caverns where Xiao knows a small hot spring is hidden, when he takes a step back into the mud of the riverbank— his foot sinks a fraction deeper than he had expected—
And Aether takes the opportunity to overwhelm him completely.
Xiao falls for hours, days, and when his back hits the grassy silt it punches the air from his lungs. He lies still, gasping helplessly as Aether’s blade sinks into the ground beside his ear. He could use his Vision to restore his breath and strike back, could call the shadows to swallow him up and free him from Aether’s grasp, could wrench away from Aether’s piercing, utterly captivating stare… but he does not.
Instead, Xiao allows his fingers to grow lax and jade spear to roll away, surrenders to the knee that presses firmly, but not cruelly down over his chest, and keeps his eyes wide open as Aether bends in closer and closer. Like this, it is easy to see how heavily Aether is breathing as well, sweat gleaming over his skin and face flushed with the exertion of his victory.
Even if Xiao were to die in this moment, the sight of this Aether would not be such a terrible one at which to return to the earth. But of course, even when pushed to the edge, Aether has no such intention. All he does is exhale, soft and relieved, before removing his knee and promptly collapsing onto Xiao’s chest, head coming to rest in the crook of Xiao’s neck.
An uneasy pressure Xiao had not realized was building suddenly dissipates, and he finds himself breathing easier as well, Aether’s searingly warm limbs a comfort over his own. Trembling fingers curl into his sleeves, and the muddy wetness seeping into the back of Xiao’s robes means nothing in the face of this fragile, hard-won peace.
“Your strength is…” Xiao trails off, half in praise, half in awe. And when Aether lifts his head to meet Xiao’s eyes, hands pressing Xiao down into the silt, it is nothing, nothing to lie back and simply wait for Aether’s judgment.
“Xiao…” Aether murmurs, brushing cold fingertips along Xiao’s jaw, eyes still bright and hungry.
Xiao hums.
Aether opens his mouth as if to say something more, but after a moment of silence, he closes it again and shakes his head, a helpless gesture. Then his weight shifts as he lifts himself off and away from Xiao, holding out a hand once he is steady on his feet once more.
Taking it, Xiao pauses as he finds himself face-to-face with Aether on the riverbank, the placid, ever-watchful stones of Jueyun Karst towering around them.
They are both splattered and stained with mud, and Xiao knows his hair must be just as tangled about his shoulders as Aether’s is. That thin line of blood from Xiao’s blade stands out like a banner on Aether’s cheek, and Xiao can feel bruises throbbing on his arms and hands where even the shaft of his spear had not been sufficient to absorb the full force of Aether’s blows. Aether’s gaze still burns, and Xiao is sure his must be doing the same in return.
A strange warmth settles deep in Xiao’s chest, but though he is soon able to identify it as pride, the reason for the feeling does not so readily make itself clear.
“There is a spring in this area,” Xiao says in lieu of any of his questions, and he gestures to the cliffside behind them.
Aether nods silently, and they fall into step with each other, splashing through the lazy, waist-high river and into the shadows of the mountain alcove beyond. Some of the mud has been washed off by the time they ascend the short rise to the pools of steaming water, so Xiao simply slips out of his outer robe and lays it out on a stone beside him, leaving his wet, but cleaner clothes behind. He kneels at the edge of the spring just as Aether finishes his own disrobing.
“Xiao?” Aether asks softly, and Xiao is momentarily struck by the sight of him, bare and golden and still marked by the blood of his earlier victory.
“I will serve you.”
Aether’s mouth presses tight for a moment— then something gives, and the tension eases with his next exhale as he begins the slow process of submerging himself in the pool. Once he is settled, Xiao carefully gathers together the mud-stained fan of his hair, rinsing and scrubbing as Aether tilts his head back into the water, eyes blissfully shut.
It is not a difficult task, even without soap or other such tools— particularly because Aether washes his own arms and feet and face, never once opening his eyes or pulling away from Xiao’s hold. Over and over, Xiao finds himself stunned by how far Aether goes to prove his comfort in Xiao’s presence.
Tentatively, he trails the pads of his fingertips down the side of Aether’s neck, then around to the front where veins of anemo radiate up from the faint glow nestled deep in Aether’s chest.
Aether submits to the touch just as Xiao had only minutes ago submitted to his, and Xiao aches for it.
“Is it… quiet, now?” Xiao fumbles for the right words, but fortunately, Aether seems to understand his intent.
“Mm. I… thank you, Xiao,” he whispers, the sound hazy. “For just a little longer, would you…?”
And, guided by some unknown, heady instinct, Xiao tugs on Aether’s hair, pulling him back until his head rests on Xiao’s folded knees. Then he slips a hand over Aether’s eyes and simply holds it there until he can feel Aether’s fluttering heartbeat slow again.
They rest there in the steam and dappled shadows cast by the trees overhead until their bond flows calm and deep. Until the chatter of birdsong around them changes as the last of morning larks return to their nests to make way for the sparrows of noon. Until Aether’s body falls lax and his breaths turn soft with sleep.
Xiao withdraws his hand, and Aether’s lashes glimmer in the scattered light. It is such a small thing, and yet Xiao is again reminded that Aether is divine; perhaps the truest divine of them all.
And for some reason, he has chosen Xiao. For some reason, he had given Xiao the power to bring him relief from his own memories.
With the utmost care, Xiao smooths his palm over the part in Aether’s hair, resolutely ignoring the faint, breathy sigh that leaves Aether’s throat, and waits for his star to awake.