Archive of Our Own

After the whole ordeal in Sumeru, the nameless Wanderer had been doing tasks given by Buer. It gave him a sense of worth, some sort of meaning to his existence for now, he supposes. She was kind to him, giving him a place to stay. But he could hardly call it home with how many places he once had and had lost. 

“You had told the Traveller that you had intended to stay in Sumeru for the time being, did you not?” Nahida had asked him a while after the Traveller had left. As much as he would like to storm right into Snezhnaya and immediately face off against Dottore for his vengeance, he was no longer as short-sighted as he was before, not fully thinking things through before achieving pseudo-divinity and landing himself in his current predicament.

“Hmph, you said it yourself, I still need some time to compose myself or something.” Without his Harbinger position and… anything at all, he knew he didn’t stand much of a chance. As if reading his mind, which she could very much do if she wanted, she comforted him. 

“There, there. You’re more than welcome to stay here with me.” He was cautious at first, but recalling the memories of her taking care of his previous incarnation after his fall upon losing the electro gnosis, he let himself ease into the wisdom deity’s contact. Like a stray cat discovering warmth for the first time, he melted into her gentle touch. 

Her position as the Dendro archon being re-established throughout the Nation of Sumeru currently occupied most of her attention. Serving as an Archon meant that she could not be solely focused on one person, especially not someone formerly known as the Balladeer, who once sought to destroy it. Similar to the sages who had wanted to undermine the young Archon, many of the Sumeru residents had yet to fully realise and comprehend the reverence they should be showing. And so there were times that she could not be by his side, and instead sent him out on errands to occupy time.

His new objectives were nothing like the missions that the Fatui had sent him on, such as asking him to run into dangerous places like the Abyss. Instead, he’d be tasked with helping out the Dendro Archon’s Aranara companions, occupying children with silly little games and taking care of any fauna in areas still suffering from the aftereffects of the Withering. These tasks did not require him to make any sacrifices or put him against any sort of enemies that would threaten his life. He supposes they were meant to serve as a sort of rehabilitation, easing him back into having a semblance of a normal life.

But it felt aimless, similar to before he had gotten the memories of his previous incarnation. And that was a strange thought, being associated with his memories while not having lived through them; he was Scaramouche, the Balladeer, Kunikuzushi, Kabukimono; and yet he was not. He was an incarnation who had all of the memories of the prototype puppet discarded by Raiden Ei and went through the whole ordeal at Tataratsuma, but also the nameless Wanderer who had done nothing at all. He would have to live with all of the guilt associated with his previous self’s wrongdoings, but be unable to ever be forgiven properly, as the ones who should be rightfully angry about it won’t ever hold their grudge in the same regard.

What a cruel fate he found himself in due to being unable to fully erase himself. If someone were to use the Irminsul as a plot device in an Inazuman light novel, they should’ve at least committed to completely wiping him out, instead of something so thoughtless like half-heartedly giving it to a character they didn’t know how to redeem.

The whole point was, it all felt meaningless to him. There was no purpose in anything that he had ever done, and it felt like the things he achieves now or in the future would never matter. This thought unsettled him at first, but just like how 500 years previously passed by the Wanderer like a blink of an eye, time moved on, and eventually he got used to being someone who had lived two lifetimes. 

“How about doing something like travelling?” That was Buer’s suggestion after he brought up this nihilistic view on life. 

In response, he gave her a deadpan stare as if he hadn’t already spent a lifetime as a Wanderer, travelling around for five centuries searching for an identity without anything to show for it.

“But things are different now,” Wanderer gave her an even more doubtful look, “maybe you’ll see a new perspective.” 

She was correct, he was an entirely different person compared to the previous Wanderer, now equipped with the memories of the Balladeer; with that, maybe things would be different.

“If you’re so eager to get rid of me, then I’ll get going.” Nahida smiles warmly at how readily he accepted her answer, his intentions wouldn't go unseen by the Archon of Wisdom. 

“You’re excited, aren’t you? I’m sure you’re looking forward to going out into the world again,” her eyes sparkled with a knowing glint. His anemo vision on his chest served as a symbol of how much he yearned to be free.

“I’m just glad to finally get out of being stuck here in this humid rainforest.” He huffed as he turned to leave. He didn't know how to respond to her assumption, as emotions perplexed him in general. He would much rather claim that he didn’t have any emotions at all. 

Excitement was something like the rush that one would get seeing their enemies toyed with, a sadistic thrill upon seeing how much power one had to exert over those weaker than oneself. This feeling of anticipation was nothing like that… could it also be called excitement?

That was the series of events that caused the Wanderer to eventually find himself in Mondstadt, the City of Freedom. Still somewhat with a habit of keeping an eye on Fatui troops since he once served as a commander as their sixth Harbinger, he took note of those stationed around the city. It was also hard not to take in the sounds of the city with its bustling market, singing of bards on the balconies, chatter at the stalls near the gate, or the hum of conversations coming from the taverns despite the sun still being up. This truly felt fitting to be called the City of Song and Wine.

He briefly wonders how long those Fatui soldiers have gossiped next to the strange waypoint device before a girl with a red bow situated on her head greeted him, noticing his distinctive appearance. It seemed that she was well-versed in greeting foreigners, introducing herself as Outrider Amber and giving him a quick overview of the city. Wanderer responds politely, hiding the fact that he already knew all that from Fatui's reports. He knew how to introduce himself nicely, though he wondered if the Traveller still remembered their first meeting when meteorites fell.

The Wanderer thought that would be the most eventful thing that would happen during his visit to Monstadt, but he would soon find out that he was wrong. He stops in his tracks, hearing a child quietly whimpering around the corner.

“Klee, what’s wrong?” He turns to see a knight kneeling at the height of a girl in red. She seemed to be holding back tears.

“Huffman, there’s a problem… Dodoco… they…” she begins before being interrupted by a bit of sniffling, “Dodoco is hurt!!” And in her hands was a fluffy doll with equally long fluffy ears and a tail, except... the tail was currently separated from the rest of the body.

“It’s going to be okay,” Huffman tried to comfort her, attempting to recall how he would look after his own younger brother. Mika was already old enough to go on the reconnaissance missions that he did, so it had been a while since the elder Schmidt had to comfort an upset child as young as Klee, and he seemed unsure about what to do. After all, Klee was being cared for by the other Knights most of the time when Alice was absent. Usually, Huffman’s only job was to make sure that she was not up and around past her bedtime.

Unable to sit back when seeing a child in distress, Wanderer approached. “I’ve got a bit of knowledge in making toys, could I fix it for you?” He offered to the little girl.

“Please!!” Klee gingerly reaches out her hands with Dodoco lying pitifully in her palm, “Dodoco can't go on without their tail!!” Huffman immediately looks more relieved at having more assistance in the situation.

“I’ll be careful,” he says as he takes the plush and situates himself off the path, pulling out needles and threads which he kept tucked away. It was useful for emergency repairs on ripped equipment while travelling and in surprise moments like these. 

As he worked on fixing the toy, Klee watched intently. Meanwhile, Huffman excused himself, saying that he needed to go back to patrol, but they were welcome to call for him if they needed. 

Klee admired his big hat, it worked well at keeping the sun out of his face as he worked. Once the terror of Dodoco’s injury had faded and she was reassured seeing that they would be okay, Klee notices the anemo vision on the Wanderer’s chest.

All the anemo users that she’s met have always been good people, like Master Jean, Sucrose and the green bard! She felt that this stranger was no exception, especially since they were here to help Dodoco after all! She stays quiet and doesn’t do anything to bother him while the Wanderer concentrates, knowing that’s what Albedo preferred when he was working on something that required a lot of focus, and she would show the same sort of respect to the Dodoco saviour. 

“Here you go, it’s reattached,” Wanderer hands the toy back to the girl, who accepts gratefully.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!!” She repeats in quick succession, “What’s your name? I’m Klee!” 

“Uh, I’m just a Wanderer, and I had only just arrived in Monstadt.” Wanderer was a little taken aback by the sudden burst of energy that returned to her. He introduced himself in the same way that he had introduced himself to Amber previously. It wasn’t difficult to switch to his current moniker after having always called himself a vagrant from Inazuma. 

“Thank you, Mister Wanderer! Thank you so much for fixing Dodoco! You’re the best!”

“It’s not a problem, I’m… used to taking care of dolls.”

“Are you a toy maker then?!”

“Absolutely not.” Wanderer inwardly cringes at being referred to by Tartaglia’s fake occupation and quickly shakes his head, rejecting the idea. The tassels on his hat swung with his movement and clattered against each other. 

“Mom gave me Dodoco, I was so worried when they got hurt! I’m glad you were here to help!” 

“Your… mother?” Wanderer says after her, trying to keep the distaste for the word hidden. Thankfully, it was subtle enough that Klee hadn’t noticed. 

“Yes! My mom and dad are the famousest Travellers in Teyvat, and Dodoco is my bestest friend!” She looked excited to talk about her family, they were a source of pride in contrast to the Wanderer’s own family situation. As Klee goes on to talk about how her mother wrote the Teyvat travel guide, Wanderer’s hand unconsciously goes to the golden feather that hangs below his vision.

‘This gold ornament is a proof of identity granted by the Almighty Shogun…’

The ornament had already been with him before he had received his memories from the Dendro Archon, and he couldn’t help but feel a stabbing feeling thinking about who he must have received it from. Even if the Electro Archon were to see it now, it’s not like she would recall it, as he had removed his existence from the Irminsul, which meant that she would have forgotten ever giving it to him as well. But even if he couldn’t remember anything regarding his birth in this incarnation, the fact that he still had with him the golden feather ornament remains.

A stabbing feeling that appears whenever he thinks about her returns, and he clenches the golden feather, perplexed at being unable to put a name to the feeling. No, he discarded and scrubbed himself of all human emotions in the flames when he had decided to burn everything in his previous lifetime; all of his emotions, his humanity and… the original feather ornament.

And yet, despite it all, here it was in his hand. Even though he threw everything away, somehow something from his time with her remained.

Which emotion was this?

Snapping him back into reality, Klee stood up after putting Dodoco back on her backpack, surprising him with the sounds of heavy things inside clanking around. She stood upright with a bit of effort, making Wanderer wonder how heavy her bag was, then gestured to him to stand up as well.

“Let me show you around Monstadt, Mister Wanderer!”

He pushes aside his previous thoughts and lets himself be carried around by the surprisingly strong little elven girl and dragged across the city. Everyone was very welcoming, seeing Klee by his side, it wasn’t a surprise to find out that a bubbly girl like her was well-loved by the citizens. Although he was a little concerned about the warnings from the people for her to be careful with explosives.

Klee reminded him of someone he knew. Refusing to think too far into his past, he compared her presence with Nahida's, harmless and somewhat comforted by a childlike innocence. He found himself obediently staying by Klee’s side the entire time instead of finding a way to escape. While the Dendro Archon was in no means an ordinary child, she still used childish terminology sometimes, such as ‘dook dook’ even though she was supposed to be the God of Wisdom, really heightening the resemblance.

He enjoyed the excited sound she made as she sprinted and how bouncy she looked when she jumped around, completely forgetting how heavy the backpack had looked. He really liked children, they were cute, unbridled, and they had such a pure unfiltered view of the world.

She told him more about her friend, a boy called Razor, who was raised by wolves. Along with a princess who went by the name Fischl, and a Lady Megistus who served her and sounded somewhat familiar to him. Before talking about the knights, starting with Master Jean and going through all of them until her big brother, Albedo.

Klee seemed to bring down all of his emotional walls, and he somehow finds himself wanting to tell her about his most secret possession; he shows Klee the tiny doll he kept with him at all times. He pulled out the small figure that he had made to imitate the earliest of  Wanderer’s past appearances.

“So they’re how you knew how to fix Dodoco!!”

“Yes, they’re my travelling companion.”

“Wow… then they’re your own Dodoco!!” 

Then in the evening, a voice could be heard through the plaza, calling her back.

“Klee!!! Time for you to return!” Her head turns in the direction of the voice, which Wanderer's gaze follows, capturing the sight of a figure with dusty blond hair with braids pulled to the back. 

“Big brother Albedo!! I thought you were staying at Dragonspine tonight!” She exclaims with glee and runs up to give him a big hug, and he opens his arms to receive it. 

“I heard about what had happened from Huffman, I thought you would still be upset.” Albedo returns Klee’s hug while he thanks the Wanderer. “Thank you for taking care of her. I hope she didn’t give you too much trouble.”

“Hmm, it was no trouble at all,” he wouldn’t admit it openly, but he enjoyed his day with Klee, and it was clear that she had enjoyed it too. Albedo heard about his odd appearance, but it was still an experience to take it in person. Usually, the guests they have from Sumeru wear things like the Academiya uniform and guests from Inazuma were nearly unheard of, so the Wanderer’s clothes stood out a lot compared to the rest of Monstadt. Wanderer couldn’t help but notice something strange about Albedo’s appearance as well: the Khaenri’an diamond marking on the neck. 

“Mister Wanderer, I’ve got another story to tell you!” Klee says while still holding onto Albedo.

“Klee,” he’s about to scold for taking up more of the Wanderer’s time, but she gives Albedo a begging look and he folds with a shallow sigh and turns to the guest,  “Would you like to walk back to the Knight’s headquarters with us?”

And if that’s where the wind wants to take him, then that is the way he goes. 

Klee, Albedo and Wanderer walk back to the headquarters together because, of course, he accepted the invitation. Upon finding out that he hadn’t made any arrangements for a place to stay and thinking it was because Klee had been distracting him, Albedo offered a spare room at the headquarters for the wanderer to rest in. Now that he was no longer part of the Fatui, it didn’t matter that he stayed there… right? 

Wanderer didn’t need to sleep like normal humans do, so he didn’t need somewhere with a bed to stay. The elements in Monstadt were calm thanks to Anemo Archon’s blessings, and it didn’t heavily blizzard or storm as it did during the time Andrius and Decarabian fought, but still, the thought of having a roof over his head was more preferable than being outside in the dark for the night.

So he accepts that offer too and finds himself in an unused room for the knights. However, that night, he finds himself unable to even pretend to fall asleep with the unfamiliar surroundings, so he decides to take a walk outside. There weren’t any guards posted around the headquarters at night; the city of Monstadt was too peaceful to require that sort of vigilance, though it’s not like the city was completely unprotected with a certain vigilante and nun overlooking it.

And it was during this time that he discovered the glow of a lamp through a crack in a door as he roamed the hallways. It was an alchemy laboratory, mostly used by Sucrose, occasionally Timaeus and Albedo when he wasn’t in Dragonspine. Tonight, it was the latter that was working through the night, and the Wanderer found himself curious about the happenings inside.

Still, he was a guest, and he knocked on the door and waited for Albedo’s permission before entering. 

“Come in.”

“Hello.”

“Hello.”

Wanderer finds himself utterly unable to read the expressionless alchemist, and now wishes he had Buer’s ability to read minds.

Before coming to Monstadt, Albedo didn’t need to express himself, having only really interacted with Rhinedottir on their travels. Wanderer just smiles politely upon entering. He’s the one who always disliked needless chatter to fill in silence, but he wasn’t sure how to act amiably when the other had such a lack of response without someone like Klee acting as a mediator.

Albedo was a little confused about what the Wanderer was doing here at this time of night, but most of his thoughts were still occupied by the experiment report that he was previously going through.

Meanwhile, Wanderer felt awkward and tried to look for any signs of discomfort, trying to figure out if the Alchemist was indirectly asking him to leave. Was he being a bother? Should he have ignored the permission to enter? Did ‘come in’ actually mean ‘go away’? 

If Nahida were here to read their minds, then she probably would’ve giggled at the contrast. 

Albedo stops thinking about the report and realises he should probably invite the Wanderer to sit. “Would you like to sit down, and I could get you some tea?”

The Wanderer, who was almost certain that Albedo was going to ask him to leave, was taken aback and let out a laugh. He settles himself into the room and sits on top of an empty desk that was probably used for experiments a few hours prior. “You don’t need to do that. Most people don’t serve tea to people who intrude at this time of night.”

“Then what do most people do?”

“I was thinking that you’d probably want to kick me out for bothering you.”

“No, you can stay. Why are you here?”

“Just couldn’t sleep.”

“Hm.”

And the conversation went back to a standstill, and Albedo returned to working.

Wanderer found it humorous in a way. There were antisocial people in the Harbingers, and he knew that he was previously one of them. But he wasn’t expecting the same difficulty with the reclusive Chief Alchemist, who spent most of their time away from Monstadt, the harsh snow environment of the mountain was good at keeping secrets.

He takes in the surroundings around him, surprised to see how much more lived in it compared to Dottore’s sterile laboratories. There were potted plants labelled with numbers and indicators that he glossed over, books that sat messily on a bookshelf and walls covered with scientific diagrams that looked hand-drawn. Then there was Albedo’s desk that was covered with papers, an ink and quill that showed prolonged use, and a plate that had a scattering of crumbs, remnants of an eaten cake. 

And even though he was used to being in laboratories, having been experimented on and taken apart as a puppet, this room was nothing like the ones he remembered.

“What are you working on?” the Wanderer couldn’t resist asking.

“I’m investigating the rifthounds that appeared around Wolvendom. I've asked around, and it seems that they appear frequently in Inazuma, so it was strange that they had suddenly shown up in Monstadt.”

“Oh?”

“I am sure that they are made from alchemy that originated in Khaenri’ah, since they are said to be from the abyss. If I could figure out their origins, it would help anyone going against them, and I could perhaps find a way to make the area around Wolfvendom safer. Not a lot of people go there, but it is still better to be prepared.”

“I see.”

“I have discovered that I recognise a certain signature in the alchemy that went into the rifthounds. A lot of the technology on creating life outside of unnatural means comes from Khaenri’ah, and someone I knew was one of the few who had made a lot of progress in that area.”

All of a sudden, he spoke so much, talking about a subject that he was interested in.

“Did they know much about puppet-making techniques?”

The question seems to momentarily put a halt to Albedo’s train of thought, and he ponders it for a second before answering.

“Yes, most likely. Perhaps puppet-making would have served as a base for making life, as its roots are said to have started in Khaenri’ah.”

“Hm, alright.”

“Why do you ask?” 

This was a loaded question for Wanderer, but it’s not like he could blame Albedo when he was the one who had brought it up first.

“It’s— never mind. None of your business.”

Throughout the conversation, Wanderer had perched himself on the desk, while Albedo stayed seated in his chair. Like a cat, he found that he enjoyed sitting in a more elevated position above others. Albedo went back to finishing his work, and Wanderer stayed nearby and quietly watched. 

Around him was the hushed rustling of leaves outside, the sound of wind and the quiet scratching on parchment as Albedo wrote. Later, Albedo retires when he finishes what he was doing, and Wanderer takes that as an indication to return to his room, staying there until the morning.

Once the sun rose, he ate breakfast and met up again with Klee, who sought him out to give him a morning greeting. While he was deciding that he would head back outside of the city, a nearby pile of leaves that he was watching was blown in the direction of Albedo. 

“I will be heading back to Dragonspine today to finish conducting some experiments.”

Wanderer finds himself wanting to ask to come along, but it's not like they were close enough to warrant that sort of request and for now, he’d rather not go somewhere that reminded him so much of his time at Snezhnaya.

Wanderer’s thoughts on Albedo were that he was mysterious; there weren’t a lot of reports on the alchemist, with the Fatui mostly residing in the city, and those on the mountain settling around the base of it. It was a mystery how he had only suddenly shown up in Monstadt a while ago, quickly receiving his title as the Chief Alchemist of the Knights of Favonius and becoming so established within the minds of the citizens.

He wonders how Albedo was able to suddenly show up out of nowhere and gain such a good reputation, being well-loved by so many people. In the past, he’s never been able to achieve that despite how much he tried to blend in with humans; his past incarnation was always an abomination, and as the nameless Wanderer, he never found a place for himself to fit in.

Albedo was different from himself, he thought.

The other’s teal eyes meet his indigo ones, and he registers that Albedo had caught him staring. All of a sudden, he felt his body temperature rising and a strong urge to look away, which he obeyed, acting as if he hadn’t been looking in the first place.

The nearby windmill is suddenly very interesting, and the leaves of the nearby hedge look a lot greener than yesterday. Wanderer folds his arms, and that helps him feel more closed off. It was as if something was telling him to run away and hide.

Not sure about the reasoning behind it, he makes the choice to glance back and then sees Albedo walking in his direction, making his eyes widen. This was another unfamiliar feeling that he couldn’t put a name to. 

“Did you have something you needed from me?” Albedo asked.

“Nothing… have a safe trip.” Wanderer isn’t quite sure what to say to him since he wasn’t intending to have the sudden conversation at all.

“Thank you. What about you, where will you be going?”

“I don’t have a particular destination, I’m just going wherever the wind takes me.”

“That’s very fitting, seeing how you ended up here in Monstadt.”

“I suppose.”

“Then… if you’ll be staying in this nation for now, would it be alright for me to draw you?”

“What?”

“I’d like to draw you, you can keep the drawing afterwards if you’d like.”

“Why would you want to make a drawing of me?”

“Something about you is fascinating, perhaps our meeting was a special one.”

“Hah? Keep the cheesy lines to yourself.”

The sudden request completely made the Wanderer forget about prior thoughts. He’s never been asked to model for a drawing before in the last 500 years. Also, Albedo phrasing the question like that did not help.

“Is that a no?”

“Fine.” Albedo seems to brighten up at his agreement. Perhaps he wasn’t as hard to read as Wanderer initially thought. “What do I need to do?”

Albedo looks thoughtful for a moment, he’s considering how long it would take. He gives Wanderer a good once-over and is certain that the three lines he uses to draw the cavalry captain would be nowhere near enough to capture as much as he would like.

“Would you be open to travelling to Dragonspine with me?” 

“I didn’t have any other plans anyway.”

“I’m glad. I left most of my painting supplies up there, I didn’t think that I would use them during this short visit.”

“You’re going to be creating an entire painting?”

“If you’re not against it, otherwise I could just do a few sketches instead. 

“Do whatever you want.”

As if it wasn’t there in the first place, his previous thoughts on avoiding the snowy mountain had completely gone out the window. It’s not like the thought of being somewhere similar to Snezhnaya should bother him anyway.

During their journey to Dragonspine together, Wanderer confirmed that Albedo wasn’t the type to fill in empty gaps with useless conversation either. They spoke when needed, pointing out the direction they needed to go and areas to avoid.

Wanderer could’ve travelled faster himself if he had used his vision and flown ahead without the alchemist. But taking the slower scenic route, he could appreciate the sights that Monstadt had to offer. It was much simpler than Inazuma and Sumeru, but the way it all blended made the travel seem much faster. If he had to describe it, Monstadt was easily traversable, a welcoming place to begin a hero’s journey. It was similar to the starting areas described in novels, no doubt thanks to the efforts of the Anemo Archon, who landscaped it. 

As the windmills and the stone walls of the city faded out into the distance and the snow-covered mountain grew closer and closer, Albedo and Wanderer eventually found themselves at the outpost.

Albedo has made a few more additions to the place since the Traveller was last here. The bridge to it was repaired, and the constantly lit braziers in the cave were both much more metaphorically and literally a warm welcome amid all the snow. Upon entering, you could tell it was much more lived in, and Wanderer could even see remnants of Klee having been here, notably in the toys and crayons scattered around. Old experiments were left out, and alchemy ingredient containers were situated on every surface. 

“Sorry about the mess, I hadn’t expected to bring a guest back.”

“Your apology is unnecessary, I’m the one intruding here.”

“Still, I should probably be more prepared for sudden visitors.”

“Who would want to show up to a place like this without a reason to?”

“You’re always welcome to drop by for a visit if you’d like.”

“That’s a pretty big offer you’re making.”

“I think I would enjoy having you around.”

“Hmph. Let’s hurry up and get this painting started,” Wanderer says, wanting to change the subject. He sees a big easel situated somewhere in the back and goes towards it.

“Would you like to find something to do while I draw? I tend to paint very fast, but I’m afraid it could get rather boring to be modelling.” Albedo pulls out an empty canvas and slots it on top of the easel, already considering how he wanted the painting to turn out.

“No, that’s alright, I can stay still in one place without a problem,” he says on a nearby stool and awaits more instructions. “How should I pose?”

“Just sit comfortably and look in any direction you’d like, and it’s alright if you move around a little.”

Wanderer avoids looking directly at Albedo, knowing it’d be very awkward to stare at him the entire time. Instead, he positioned himself at an angle where the easel was just at the corner of his peripheral vision and comfortably lounged on the seat.

Albedo immediately gets to work, sketching out his guidelines when a sudden deja vu hits him. “Have I ever drawn you before?”

“No? We only just had our first meeting.”

“Hmm, I am curious as to why this feels so familiar.” He briefly wonders why the Irodori festival that he attended a while ago suddenly came to mind. 

He moves on the paints, reapplying colours onto his palette, before asking another question. “Are you cold? I could start another fire if you need it.”

“No, that would not be needed.”

It didn’t look like he was lying, so Albedo just moved on and they sat in companionable silence while listening to the crackling of the nearby fire and the sounds of movement coming from the artist as he worked.

Soon, paint fills the canvas, and Wanderer finds himself well acquainted with the items on the shelf he has been looking at. Some of it was labelled and some were not; it was a mystery how Albedo would be able to know what was what. There were a lot of random alchemy ingredients, various books, and even mechanical ruin guard parts. It was clear Albedo had a big collection.

Wanderer let his thoughts wander, thinking about what it was like to have lots of things to call your own. He tended to travel lightly, not bringing anything more than the essentials. The tiny doll was the only thing that he carried which wasn’t something that he necessarily needed. What was it like to hoard, to form an attachment to objects that you’ve accumulated? The entire concept was foreign to him.

Once again, he was reminded how different he was from Albedo.

Once a rough version of the painting was completed, Albedo showed it off, and Wanderer looked at it in awe. 

This was something tangible that showed he existed. The quiet moment in time that he spent in modelling was captured and preserved in the form of a painting. In front of him was a reminder that he was here.

Although he could not comprehend it and probably never will, perhaps this was something close to the eternity sought out by the Raiden Shogun. Maybe he was more similar to his creator than he would like to admit, as he found that he was fond of the idea of having something that would last.

Albedo had painted a beautiful doll-like boy who wore a big hat and had an anemo vision displayed on his chest. The puppet had expected himself to be drawn expressionless, but instead, the painted figure looked lost. He seemed to be looking for something, his gaze searching into the distance. Wanderer didn’t realise he had been unconsciously making such an expression or that so much could be captured in a painting. He couldn’t take his eyes off it.

“Would you like to have it?” Albedo questions which Wanderer shakes his head in response.

“I don’t have anywhere to keep it.”

“Then I’ll take care of it.”

“Go ahead, do as you like. You can even throw it out if you want to.”

“I won’t be doing that.”

“Hmph, don’t complain if it takes up too much space.” 

After the painting session, Wanderer takes his leave. There was no reason to stay, and Albedo had his own things to do. 

And so, the two separated, and then they met again.

Their second meeting was at Windrise. Albedo had taken a detour while travelling between Dragonspine and the City and noticed a familiar silhouette in the tree.

“I heard that this tree represents someone who ascended to Celestia,” Albedo says as he approaches, making his presence known.

Wanderer looks like he’s deep in thought, the rays of the sun peeking down through the leaves and lighting up his thoughtful expression. 

“It’s not easy becoming a god.”

“I’d assume not. If it were that easy, then most of Teyvat would’ve already tried.”

“What if becoming a god was your birthright, and you had that all taken away from you?”

Albedo stays quiet, noting that this question wasn’t meant for him. Eventually, the distant look in Wanderer’s eyes disappears, and he seems to come back into himself.

“It’s you.”

“Nice seeing you again, too.”

“Ignore what you just heard.”

“If that’s what you want.”

Then they would part ways from each other, only to meet again afterwards.

Each time they reunited, their conversations would get longer. Wanderer would tell Albedo something that he saw or experienced. In return, Albedo talked about his experiments and ongoing projects, such as his work as Calx, and Wanderer would offer his thoughts and suggestions.

Each time, Wanderer would get reminded how different he was from the Kreideprinz. Compared to him, Albedo was… sheltered. He wouldn’t call the man completely ignorant, but there was a sort of naive way that he viewed the world, and it reminded him of his earlier days back as Kabukimono.

The similarities grew as Wanderer would notice how Albedo was unfamiliar with interacting with other people. Just like the workers at Tataratsuma who taught him how to be human, he would point out the differences, and Albedo would absorb the information as he used to.

One time, Albedo was almost scammed by a merchant from another nation, and Wanderer had stepped in to reveal the lies. He had to admit that the charlatan had a way with words, but the negative intentions and the overly sweetened deal did not escape his notice.

“If it sounds too good to be true, then it probably is.”

“But the world is full of mysteries, it could be possible that they were speaking the truth.”

“You can’t so easily believe mora would be the only thing they would ask for. Only sneaky merchants trying to sell things speak like that”

“How would you know?”

“There is a merchant in Sumeru who employs similar tricks.” 

Back in the land of Wisdom, Dori sneezes.

Albedo wasn’t the only one who was being taught, as Wanderer would find himself learning things too. He always thought that he wouldn’t be fond of sweets, everything being too sugary and chewy. However, the alchemist introduced him to a dark and bitter substance that pleasantly surprised him. 

“Would you like to try some?”

“I highly doubt that anything you get from that store would fit my tastes.

“It wouldn’t hurt to try, right?”

“If you’re going to be so insistent, then I’ll eat it.”

Albedo gave a smug smile as Wanderer's expression changed from his usual sulking pout. It was different from the bitterness of tea leaves, but he found that he liked the taste.

“Would you like to try chocolate cake next time?”

“Only if it’s not covered in icing.”

And so the alchemist, who usually only brought desserts for himself and his younger sister, surprised everyone by bringing a companion along with him to the dessert store. Everyone knew that he tended to avoid unnecessary social interaction, and there was a general agreement that Albedo was someone unreachable like a flower on a cliffside, and yet here he was with company. It was the gossip of the city for a little while, all the onlookers perceiving their outing as a date.

The cavalry captain was more than excited to interrogate the chief alchemist about how it went. Albedo had to sternly ask Kaeya to stop teasing him and getting distracted during the meetings.

After a while of getting much closer to each other, the two of them hung out at Albedo’s outpost in Dragonspine. Albedo was working on another experiment while Wanderer scoured through some of his alchemy notes.

“Do you think you could use ashes to make a heart?” Wanderer asked the alchemist.

“We all begin and end as dust. Perhaps it would take a long time, but as everyone returns to earth, the earth will return to us.”

The phrase that Albedo had muttered before immediately comes to mind. “Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.”

“Exactly. As we all turn into ashes and dust upon our passing, we all start with ashes and dust as our beginning.”

“Then… would you be able to make a human heart with alchemy?”

“Hmm, my master couldn’t make a human heart, and so I doubt I would be able to either.” 

Albedo raises his hand to his chest and feels his heartbeat through his gloves. He thinks about the treasure that was found in the domain before Rhinedottir left him, only to never be seen again. When he woke up that morning, he was only left with the letter addressed to Alice, both his master and the Heart of Naberius artifact gone. 

There was only one assumption to be made.

“What is it like to have a human heart?” The question unconsciously slips out from Wanderer, and Albedo stops what he was doing to look at him.

“Are you… not human?”

Wanderer freezes. He had been hiding the fact that he wasn’t human from Albedo because he didn’t know what would happen if the secret was revealed.

Would Albedo accept him like Katsuragi and Niwa did, only for him to eventually betray their trust and ruin them? Or would Albedo be frightened by the idea that he would inevitably betray and so reject him? Or since he was the curious kind, would Albedo want to experiment on him like Dottore did, putting him through pain and suffering because he couldn’t die like mortals? Perhaps there was another option, but surely it would only end in misery as it always had before.

Albedo had a slight suspicion that Wanderer wasn't human, but wasn’t sure until the silence confirmed his suspicions. He had never let the other stay out in the cold for too long, but Albedo doesn't think he’s ever seen his warm breath create fog like normal breathing humans do. Then there were more subtle things like an abnormally high pain tolerance, not reacting to temperatures like others would or that Albedo had never seen him asleep before.

“I need to go,” not wanting to see how Albedo would respond, Wanderer immediately prompts a departure.

“Wait,” Wanderer ignores him and continues. Albedo raises his volume, “Are you also a creation of Gold?”

This causes Wanderer to stop in his footsteps, and Albedo could feel his heart in his throat, and the feeling of butterflies in his stomach. He hadn’t heard anything about his master for so long.

“Are you comparing me to those rifthounds? Do I look like I came from the abyss?” Wanderer snarls as he turns around.

“But she is one of the only few who could make life—“

“I was made to be a god, a vessel for the electro gnosis. As someone divinely created, how dare you say I was created by a sinner?”

“A sinner?” This wasn’t what Albedo was expecting at all.

“Don’t you know it’s a sin to mess with life according to the Academiya? After all, look what it did to the fallen nation of Khaernri’ah.” Wanderer’s tone was sharp, and distaste seeped out like venom from his words.

For someone who greatly admires his master, it stung.

“She was a great alchemist, take your words back.”

“Gold brought calamity, the creatures from the abyss are proof that she took her creations too far.”

Albedo took a deep breath and spoke with his head upwards, prominently displaying the mark on his neck.

“Her greatest creation, her magnum opus, was me.” 

Until that moment, Wanderer could claim that he had no more emotions, that everything from back then was burned in the flames. He had no weaknesses, and there was nothing below the gods that was above him. And yet, something beneath this skin boiled, and heat started rushing to his head. There was anger that flared, a bitter taste of hatred and then ultimately a stab of resentment of what could have been.

He knew this feeling like the back of his hand, the way he had felt it every time he thought about the completion of the Raiden Shogun puppet. The way she was worshipped and revered, a reminder of what he could have been. It showed up whenever he saw humans happily living their lives without a care in the world. Too human to become a god, too inhuman to live with mortals. And now this emotion once again surfaced as he thought about how unfair it was for Albedo to be so beloved despite being a creation like him.

He was just like him, except he was so, so different.

He knew this feeling was envy. 

And he was so envious of Albedo for having everything he ever wanted.

“Hah. So you were wanted? You had a creator who loved you?” 

This was a question that Albedo could not answer definitively. He couldn’t imagine his master saying those words to him with the same warmth that he says to Klee. Just as he treated his vision as a tool, surely Rhinedottir saw him as one as well. But despite everything, she still made sure that he would find a purpose and sent him to stay with Alice. Perhaps that was her way of showing that she cared about him.

Albedo's silence was enough of an answer for Wanderer, and that made him flare up even more. 

“The archon of Inazuma regretted me so much that she had gladly forgotten about my existence.” His face twisted, and his voice was shaking and seething with anger. “How dare you have what I can’t have?”

The chalk prince dodges as a sharp gust of wind comes flying towards him, and Wanderer pulls energy out of his vision and ascends. Papers around the outpost start flying around as wind flows through the entire alcove, rushing around them.

“Get out,” Albedo sternly says, glaring at the puppet.

Wanderer sends him another few attacks as a response. Albedo drops to the floor and rolls over to one of the lit braziers. He looks back at where the attacks land and hisses. Then he sends geo-energy to the pyro nearby, and it sends a crystal to him, forming a shield around his body. 

“Hahaha!! Are you only capable of running? Then squirm for me, worm.” This was it, if there was something that bothered him, then this was all he needed to do. He needed to discard it, just like his emotions, just like how Ei discarded him.

“You’re not the only one who knows how to get to higher places.” As Wanderer sends another round of attacks, Albedo sends a flower platform beneath him, which quickly blooms, and he holds onto it as it elevates him. 

Wanderer tenses up when Albedo suddenly rushes to his eye level, their hostile gazes locking each other in place. The geo-energy forms a warm glow while the anemo attacks pull in the light around it like a black hole.

He snaps out of it and sends more blades towards his opponent.

The attacks mostly miss Albedo, but a few hit his shield as Albedo positions himself defensively in front of something behind him.

“Stop running and fight me already, I’ll show you that I am way above you!” Albedo glances at the exit, ignoring his words and quickly escapes outside into Dragonspine. “Get back here!” Wanderer shouts and flies after him, single-mindedly intent on seizing the alchemist.

Albedo, who was much more familiar with the terrain, adeptly ran in a direction familiar to him. The snowy landscape was a hostile environment to most, but for him, it was his domain. He knew which path gave him the most obstacles to shelter himself behind where the snow was downtrodden to the point it did not affect his gait.

But Wanderer’s ability to float was very efficient for traversing any terrain, and he quickly caught up.

“Why are you running?” He peers down at Albedo arrogantly, quickly following behind him. 

Albedo knew that he was much better suited for playing support than taking anything on directly. Although capable of causing a lot of damage himself, as an alchemist instead of a combatant, he did not have as much battle experience as a Fatui harbinger. It showed in the way Wanderer predicted his movements, successfully cutting him off and trapping him within the mountainous landscape. 

Cornered, Albedo launches towards Wanderer using another flower, pulling his sword out and charging at him with a practised attack. It is followed by another swing immediately afterwards.

His movements were elegant, and they reminded Wanderer of the sword dances performed in Inazuma. He remembers performing them with Katsuragi, so he was very familiar, and it made him nostalgic. Suddenly, deep grief within him starts shifting, and it causes a distraction.

The anemo user dodges the blade but not the geo-energy that follows it, sending him to the ground. Albedo uses that opportunity to trap Wanderer beneath himself, holding him in a chokehold.

“Do not insult my Master.”

“But I am right, she is a sinner,” he spat out.

“Quiet,” Albedo furiously tightens his hold around Wanderer’s neck, expecting it to cut off airflow.

“As if something divine like me would have the same weaknesses as mortals,” the choking was futile, the alchemist should’ve known that a puppet did not need air. 

Wanderer glances at the golden diamond marking on Albedo’s neck. Except for the marking, it looked just like every other person’s neck, breathing, moving, and alive. It looked vulnerable. It looked human. 

“But it seems like you’re a homunculus made to function just like them.” He strikes, grabbing Albedo in the same place where he was strangling him, except with a much more fruitful result.

“Ugh-” He feels the hold around his throat release as Albedo lets go of him to stop his strangling. He could hear him struggling, and he applied more force.

So the diamond marking felt just like skin.

Albedo musters up his energy and summons another burst of geo, enough for him to escape. He pulls back as Wanderer gets back onto his feet.

“Aren’t you the perfect replica? But that’s the difference between you and me, I was made stronger.” 

Albedo charges at him, and they trade a flurry of blows. It keeps escalating and he two engage in a tense battle within the landscape. 

Together, they were a smear of wet sand and dark purple ink on a snowy white canvas. Wind and rock face off with no reactions, resulting in a fight of pure brute strength. 

Wanderer was out of practice, he blamed the fact that he had to keep up appearances since he knew that his actions reflected on the Dendro Archon. Kusanali didn’t need someone ruining her reputation when she was trying so hard to establish it. He hadn’t gone against any strong opponents in a while, but his past battles still gave him enough of an edge.

Meanwhile, Albedo had to survive in this sort of harsh environment, on top of keeping up with the training of the Knights, even if it was more of a formality than a necessity. He needed to be strong to help protect the city of Monstadt, his co-workers and his younger sister. 

Albedo had things to fight for, but Wanderer didn’t.

Without someone like Dottore to help him with repairs or the power of an archon, Wanderer knew that it would be hard to bring himself back from the brink of death. But was it worth fighting for a life that he’d already tried to end once before?

As the temperature around them cools with the fight dragging out, so does the heat within Wanderer. He questions himself; what was he doing right now, fighting senselessly as he did in his past incarnation? 

Albedo pushes him down and stops his sword at the vital part, keeping his head attached to his body.

“I can kill you right now,” Albedo threatens, panting from the exertion. 

“Then do it.”

“What?” 

“There is no purpose for me, send me to my death already,” all the fight that was previously in him seeps out until his voice is filled with nothing but resignation. 

“I won’t kill you,” Albedo says as he lowers his sword cautiously.

“Why not? I’m a failed prototype, no one will ever accept me. I am not needed in this world,” Wanderer’s voice trembles.

Inside him, the burning sensation of jealousy dies out and leaves him with an empty feeling of hopelessness. Everything that he had held close to his heart was reduced to ashes, burned to a crisp.

“You’re not a failure.” Albedo puts his sword aside, and he holds onto the figure the same way he does to comfort Klee, “If I can be accepted, then so can you.”

And that’s when Wanderer feels himself being overwhelmed with a new sort of emotion, and the tears build up. This emotion was incredibly unfamiliar to him, nothing had ever made him feel this way before.

"How? I've made so many mistakes in the past that can never be forgiven, and my efforts will never amount to anything. I'm worthless, rightfully thrown away because I was a mistake. I should have never been born at all."

“Your existence is appreciated, you have meaning, and you will find those who love you for who you are.”

It was horrible, the way he cried now was even harder than when he was first created, and it would surely bring him to be discarded once again. And yet he could not push it down as it filled his entire being. All of the emotions that he pushed down for the last 500 years seemingly leaked out through his eyes as tears. 

"I'm just useless and pathetic, just a waste of space. There will never be a place for me to belong; there is nowhere in this world where I am enough. No matter what I do, I will be rejected. No matter what I ask for, it will always be too much for someone so undeserving like me. I exist solely to bring others down. There is no value to my existence, and there is no one who will gain anything from me. I'm just useless, a piece of trash that leeches off others and no matter what I do, will never be enough for someone to love."

“Someone will understand and accept you in your entirety, you aren't undeserving of love. I understand what it's like, I promise you aren't alone.”

He sobbed, thinking about how much he missed Katsuragi and Niwa taking care of him.

His cries came out as wails as he wept about how helpless he was when the young boy had left him, breaking their promise.

His fists clenched Albedo’s clothing as he recalled how much pain and suffering he was put through by Dottore’s experiments.

And so he continued to cry, loud wailing leaving his lips, overwhelming the silent surroundings, unveiling half a century worth of repressed sadness.

So many emotions surfaced, and yet he could not name a single one.

Albedo pulls him into a hug, closing his eyes and listening. He was well read and knew that it would be better to be let out rather than restrained within. He rubs soothing gestures into Wanderer’s back just as he was taught how to. How ironic that someone who did not express himself knew how to handle emotions so much better.

What feels like an eternity later, the two settle into a peaceful silence when Albedo opens his mouth to speak.

“I’ve been in a similar position before. When I had first been left alone, I also felt like my existence had lost all meaning,” Albedo thinks back to the morning when he woke up to his master missing.

Wanderer stayed still, quietly listening.

“I was given what felt like an impossible task, but instead of focusing on what I couldn’t do, I went on to do what I could.” Finding Alice was much more achievable than finding the truth of the world, and so that’s what Albedo did. Instead of stagnating due to a big task that overwhelmed him, he looked at what was possible and worked towards it instead.

Wanderer feels Albedo holding onto him a little tighter.

“You’re worth loving, even if you don’t realise it, you’re more human than I have ever been. You can connect and understand them at a level that I could not achieve. Even now, I am held with suspicion because I am unable to express my intentions clearly.” He thinks of Rosaria, who keeps an eye on him as if he were going to suddenly act out, and the world that could turn against him at any time for using the power of Khemia.

Finally, Wanderer speaks, quiet and vulnerable. “Even if I feel human emotions, I do not know what they are. They consume my entirety, and I won't be able to think of anything else.”

“That is admirable, to be so in tune with your thoughts and desires. How human it is to cry your heart out when you are sad, to be able to rip everything that dissatisfies you when you’re angry, and to outrightly say things are unfair when you are treated badly.” 

Albedo pauses, clearly having one more thing to say. Wanderer gives him time, and Albedo speaks as if he were ripping a bandaid off.

“If only I could have told my Master how much I needed her, then maybe she wouldn’t have left me.”

Wanderer pauses.

It was ironic, the way that Albedo wished for the part of himself that he hated most while he wished for everything that Albedo had. They both covet what the other had, but they did not.

He pulls back from the hug, grabs Albedo’s shoulders and looks straight at him.

“Then you, Albedo, would have been the perfect imitation of a human, being able to cry and smile and being what the Khaenri’ahn alchemist needed to understand life.”

“Yes?”

“But that wouldn’t be you. The people of Monstadt love Albedo, who learnt to love his younger sister, Klee. The Albedo, who pours himself into his study of alchemy, is a mysterious and reclusive person who hides out in Dragonspine and makes the entire city hold their breath in anticipation of when you appear next. The way you are now is exactly who you should be; your pursuit of humanity is what draws people to you.”

Albedo was stunned at Wanderer’s words, bringing him a perspective that he had never thought about. Wanderer’s eyes look away, downcast, before he continues.

“And perhaps I could have been made perfectly mechanical, able to handle the burden of eternity as the replacement for the Almighty Shogun, but...”

He thinks about his sword dance with Katsuragi, the way Niwa took care of him and how the child he met had treasured the doll that resembled himself as kabukimono, and how it was all gone. None of it had ever happened or been recorded in the history of Irminsul. While all the things which he had regretted were undone, so were all the good things too. 

If it were him as he was now, he wouldn’t choose to remove himself from the Irminsul anymore, there were so many memories that he wanted to keep. He thought of his relationship with Nahida, his bond with Klee and his newfound companionship with Albedo. These were memories he didn't want to be forgotten by the world.

“If I weren’t who I am now, then I wouldn’t have been able to make all the connections that I have been able to.”

After a long while of talking, maybe a little bit more crying, and gaining a deeper understanding of each other, Albedo demands that they return to his outpost to clean it up. Wanderer follows obediently, and they make their way back.

Everything there was a mess except for the area that Albedo had protected during the fight. There, Wanderer investigates, was a canvas covered with a cloth. Wanting to know what it was, he pulled off the covering and in front of him was the painting that Albedo had painted of him, further refined and finished. 

“Albedo.”

“Hm?” The person behind him stops picking up scattered papers and looks up at him.

“You can already express yourself through your art just fine, your creations convey more than enough,” Wanderer remarks, his way of comforting the alchemist the same way he did for him just prior.

“And you,” Albedo approaches and gestures at the painting, “surpassing the electro archon, have found a way to preserve a moment for eternity.” 

Wanderer huffs, feeling embarrassed all of a sudden. He was trying to be nice, but the compliment had suddenly gone back to him. He just says the first thing on his mind, feeling like he needed to compete.

“Well, I think you’re a better alchemist than Gold.”

“What makes you think that?”

Wanderer looks down at his chest, bringing his hand up to where a heartbeat would be. There wasn’t anything that had changed, but there was some sort of warmth that wasn’t there before. All the ash remains of his former self seem to have formed something new.

“You’ve managed to create a heart out of ashes.”

Albedo stands close to Wanderer, trying to pick out the sound of the heart he was speaking of. Wanderer covers his face as it flushes with colour when Albedo leans towards him, pressing his head near his torso.

“And so I did, fascinating,” Albedo gives a small smile while leaning in further as Wanderer continues to hide his face.

Eventually, Wanderer would push Albedo away. Then Albedo would beam at him with so much warmth that it made him squirm. 

He had a lot to tell Nahida about what he gained on this trip when he went back to Sumeru.

Things that he could call his own, and no one could take from him.

A new ash heart and being made of chalk dust.