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Aether had been in Teyvat for five hundred years now, though only conscious for two of them, he felt as if he’d spent an eternity roaming these lands. It was strange, so strange, he had spent not even a quarter of his life here, awake or not, he was nearly three thousand years old, after all.
Speaking of which- it was nearly their birthday, Aether’s 3009th… would it be Lumine's 3509th…? Archons… this was confusing now. It had never been this confusing.
Sumeru had been… hard. Harder than the other nations. Perhaps it was the endless dream, (he’d been trapped in one of those before, two years of his life wasted), or perhaps it was the overwhelming information.
No one had been as co-operative as Nahida, he almost wished she’d lied to him like the rest.
They were trying to protect him- he could tell. The sunshine boy, the defender, the kind boy that wanders after his missing kin; who would want to break the news? They saw him as sweet, fragile… it was almost laughable in his eyes.
He had broken a long time ago, back when he could count his age on his hands.
Back when the world he traveled was his own, when the language he spoke was his own… when his family was alive.
Paimon had suggested they head back to Mondstadt for a while, settle in the one place that felt like home. Diluc had been almost happy to let them stay in his home, even cooking them a meal.
Diluc didn’t comment on the lost look in the blonde’s eyes, the way his hands shook as he pushed the food around his plate, even Paimon was quiet, eating her portion happily and occasionally coaxing her companion to eat too.
The pair settled in the guest room for the night, with a final good night from Diluc, the door was shut. And Aether sagged.
“Bad memories again?” Paimon asked, her hands behind her back as she floated to the side slightly. Ever so observant…
Aether simply nodded, going for his bag to grab his sleeping clothes. Paimon took that as her cue to turn; she knew Aether didn’t like her seeing his scars, she’d caught them in the mirror once… the long gashes, purple and raised, the words carved into his hip. “Pet.”
“Diluc’s food was really yummy tonight! though… Do you think you can keep it down?” A frown pulled at her lips.
“I… i’ll try.” The memories swirled in his mind, dancing in front of his eyes and clouding his thoughts; they weren’t happy memories, they made his stomach churn and his chest tighten. “Could you keep the food talk to a minimum tonight?” He almost felt bad for asking…
“Sure!” She smiled, and once she heard the zip being pulled on Aether’s bag, she turned. His sweater came down to his knees, his sweatpants a good few sizes too big… Paimon would normally hold back a giggle, trying not to joke about how small they made him look. But she knew that tonight was not the time, nor the place. Especially when she noticed the scar peeking out from the too-long sleeves, the tip of his fingers turning black. “Umm… Ae? Your mirage isn’t working…”
The blonde faltered, his expression seemingly made of stone when he paused and raised his hands, it was as if they weren’t his own… as if this wasn’t his body. “I… yeah. Too tired I think. It should be back in the morning.”
“Hmm… If not, you can just keep your gloves on!”
He smiled a little at that.
“Hm. C’mon, pai, time for bed.”
—
It took an hour in the darkness for memories to grab his throat, cut off his oxygen and cover his eyes.
He couldn’t breathe- he was back in that place… god’s that place… he can’t go back there… he can’t!
The ice bit at his skin, the darkness suffocating and freezing his lungs.
Then the heat, tearing at his home and his life, burning away everything he knew.
The memories, the feelings, the pain; they clash and swirl and collide until the darkness fades.
When he opens his eyes, he’s not in the whinery, or in his bed. He’s looking down, he feels weak, small, fragile. The floor seems so close… his hands look so small.
He recognises those shoes…
“Pay attention, boy.”
And then his world freezes.
There’s a tremor in his shoulders, it’s now Aether can feel the tears on his cheeks and the wounds on his back. The fear wrecks him- he hasn’t felt fear like this in years.
“I said-“ Aether looks up before he can finish his sentence; those red eyes, the scars on his mouth… everything’s the same. In three thousand years… his memory is still crystal clear. He feels so… distant. Dissociated. Because if he looks hard enough, he can still see the photo frame across from his bed, if he focuses he can feel his hands clench against the sheets. “Insolent brat.” Suddenly, there’s a hand around his arm, the wind knocked out of him as he’s dragged.
Seven. His mind supplies. This is when you first fought.
The sword is too big for his small hands, his body aches from punishment, his eyes are swollen from crying. Where’s lumine? I need to find lumine-
He’s so disoriented he can barely breathe; it’s just him. He’s alone in the dark with nothing but a sword, he can feel his older self slipping, he’s in his younger body, the fear is all consuming and ice is tearing at his skin.
It takes one final push for Aether to lose himself.
One push and he’s eight years old.
And that’s as old as he’s ever been.
“You’re slacking, Aether.”
“I- I'm sorry…”
A harsh laugh, biting and cruel. “No, you’re not. You're just afraid.” The young boy’s body shakes, he can’t lift his eyes from the floor.
“Sorry master..”
“Lumine is a thousand steps ahead of you. She could take down a hound with her own two hands. But you? Ha! You could barely kill a rat.” I’m too young for this- his mind screams. He wants to draw and play, he doesn’t want to do this. “You will become my perfect weapon, boy. Whether you like it or not.”
…
He’s twelve now, the scars on his body have begun to overlap.
The twins stand side by side, before an iron door with looks of terror.
They grip their swords harder, tighter, and push.
The door slams shut the second they step into the room; it’s dark, cold and endless. Black ice creeping up the walls, and in the centre, a spotlight. They know what comes next.
The monsters are easy, and with both of them, they go down fast. Lumine leaves with a graze on her knee, Aether leaves with a broken arm and a gash against his ribs.
Weak.
——
Every year is the same, they train and fight, they bandage wounds and learn new powers. Lumine had always been a thousand steps ahead, but soon Aether catches up.
Lumine is smart, fast, resilient; she’s mastered every weapon by the time they’re seventeen. She can match every fight, her stamina isn’t to be messed with. If she can’t win with strength… well, she’s won many battles by simply wearing the beasts out.
But Aether? He’s calculating, flexible, almost immune to pain. He knows the basics of every weapon, but that’s all that matters to him. He can calculate every beast's next movement in a matter of seconds. He’ll let them rake their claws down his chest if it means he can get to their weak point; with Aether, you’ve already lost before the battle’s begun.
Lumine is a clean fighter, she’ll win without so much a scratch. She once won by simply dodging every attack until the monster grew tired, weak, the sword through its heart was easy.
Aether will leave with his own blood on his sword if he has to. He once won by backing into the beast, piercing the sword through his own stomach to stab it through the heart.
It’s cold, as dark as it’s always been; his eyes have developed a gold glow in the black ice, helping him find his way. But tonight, the glow isn’t necessary. His scythe swirls through the air, controlled with expert ease as he slices through every monster that comes his way. His white tshirt is stained with black and red blood, his sweatpants torn from their claws, his shoes slipping on the ice.
Lumine will scold him for training too much again- he can’t bring himself to care.
He takes down beast after beast with a snarl, feeling the anger in his chest burn bright like a flame.
He’s stronger than everything here.
There’s nothing he can’t beat.
He’s bored.
———
They’re eighteen when it happens.
The gold sparks have always been spontaneous, little bursts in their fingertips whenever the emotion in their heart is too strong.
It happens at the same time; they ascend in unison.
The dying screams of manic beasts echo in the dark chamber, each death bringing a new monster clawing from the edge. But right now? That’s not their concern. The beasts are simply collateral damage, when Aether swings his scythe and happens to slice the beats around him.
Right now; for the first time in years, they’re scared. Both of them.
The beast- no, the monster, stands at least nine foot tall, it’s skin too tough to penetrate with weapons, even Lumine’s catalyst isn’t breaking through. They can’t get close enough to do any damage, even aether, who can predict its every move, is struggling.
Another stroke of his scythe, ten more hounds down.
There’s a cry of pain, and aether freezes. He hasn’t heard his sister scream like that in years- it chills him to the bone. So much so that he freezes, and that’s the one thing he can’t afford to do.
The creature comes behind him, wrapping its hand around his throat and lifting him from the air. Aether’s always been small, malnourished, with only a slice of bread a day his body never had the chance to grow.
“Shit-!”
He’s thrown against the wall with ease; it’s been so long since he’s felt the pain that a whimper escapes the blonde's throat.
He tries to stand, he can see his sister limping, her sword coated in black.
Assess the damage. Figure out his next move. You can’t let it win.
Scrambling to his feet is harder than he anticipated, his head swims with exhaustion- it’s been hours.
“Get away from her!” His weapons won’t materlise, his scythe has shattered and his catalyst won’t respond. It can snap my neck in seconds. But he can’t let her die, he can’t, he won’t.
Aether charges, a foreign energy cracking in his veins; he doesn’t understand, doesn’t have time to comprehend when a weapon materialises in his hand.
He sprints, feet nearly slipping on the ice.
But then he jumps.
And slashes .
He sees the gold glow in his hand only when the creature is on its knees; he catches the glow in his sister's hand too, when she pierces it’s throat.
Deep pants, the room falls silent, the beast drops.
They’ve won.
“Lumi?”
“Fuck- that was good.” She smirks, eyes bright. And Aether returns it, his teeth stained with blood and his eyes glowing with forgeign energy.
Suddenly, there’s a hand on his shoulder, shaking and calling out his name. Confusion paints his face, his sister’s expression drops. “Ae?”
“-ther! aether! hey come on kid-“
The world all but slams into him like a brick wall; the ice he’s grown up in turns hot, sticky, the darkness is engulfed by light.
His first reaction is to fight.
“Get the fuck off me-!” Aether snarles, pushing against the hands that hold him. He hears a thud and a grunt, but he’s already pressed himself against a wall, a scythe in his hand. “Come near me and I’ll-“
“Aether!” It’s the voice that does it. The heat that engulfed him, burning his skin, settles; it becomes warm, comforting. The light that swallowed his darkness morphs into a wooden floor, a messy, sweat stained bed, a floating fairy and a mess of crimson hair.
He can’t comprehend it- he doesn’t understand.
He was there- he was back. In hell, in purgatory, in the darkness…
“You’re safe, Aether. Can you take a deep breath for me?” His body complies before he can understand the words, his mind’s still trapped in a steel room with endless black fog; his weapon is heavy in his hands and it’s coming back the darkness is coming and he’s not strong enough he’s not strong enough if he stops moving he- “ Aether. Look at me.” The tone is still soft, lined with care and love, but it’s firm, solid. It’s a command, in Aether’s mind, an order. For a brief moment he thinks it’s his master… “there you go. Can you tell me your name?”
He swallows, “a-aether.” His voice is rough, his throat aches . Had he been screaming?
“Good, that’s good. Now, put down your weapon. You’re safe, Aether. You don’t need to fight.” And, just like before, his body responds first. The scythe dematerialised; but his skin crawls with vulnerability, weakness, fear. Because he knows where he is, he’s in the whinery with Diluc and Paimon, he’s in Teyvat, he’s searching for his sister, but the memories are still so fresh and clear he can’t drag himself away from the darkness. “I know you’re scared, I know you want to fight-“
“I am not a coward.” His tone drips with venom, the same venom he was trained to be immune to when he was a child.
“No, you’re not. But you’re trying to find a way out, aren’t you? Your mind is trapped, Aether. So take a deep breath.”
It takes another twenty minutes, with Aether pressed against the walls and his hand clenching around nothing, his chest tightens at every moving shadow, every noise; he’s hyper aware, so much so that he nearly summons a sword when paimon flies too close.
He cringes at the image of what he looks like, a frightened animal, scarred and filled with terror, legs braced so he can run when he needs. He knows he’s shaking, he can feel the flicker of his finger against his leg. He’s drawn to it then, the black tips of his fingers, fading down to the second joint. The mirage has worn off, hasn’t it?
It makes sense now, when he looks up to meet their eyes, the utter confusion and surprise in Diluc’s eyes, the frown and downturned expression of his companion of the redhead’s shoulder. Most of his scars have faded over the centuries, but their are few that remain.
‘Pet 2’, carved on his hip, the scar above his collarbone from an axe, his fingers and the one just above his eyebrow. He loathes them more than any others.
“It’s more open downstairs, we’ll sit on the couch.” Diluc interrupts his thoughts, tone still soothing yet firm, Aether is used to taking commands, orders, instructions, it’s a relief that they make their way through the confused muddle of his mind.
Diluc steps back first, hands still raised as he edges closer to the door and steps outside. He wants me to follow, his mind supplies, entirely unhelpful in his feit of attempting to move his feet and calm his mind. He’s exhausted- the panic siphoning every last ounce of energy out of him, and now, he thinks, now I need to assess a new area. what if it’s an ambush, a threat, what if there are monsters what if-
“ Breathe aether, it’s just me and Paimon, no one else.” His eyes are burning holes into the floor, emotions bubbling to the surface and mixing in his chest painfully. Shame, fear, humiliation, anger. He can’t make sense of it all, his mind is still trapped, caged like a wild animal, like a beast. “There’s five exits down there, two doors and three windows. The windows are shut and the doors are locked.”
“Wine cellar?” He adds, now looking to meet the man’s eyes.
“Locked too, and no one can get down there except through that door.” He answers, paimon now floating in front of his shoulder with a gentle smile.
“You think it’s safe enough, Ae?” She asks kindly, head tilted and hands clasped behind her back.
“…yeah, yeah probably.” Aether hates how his voice wavers, how he lacks the energy to even hide his hands, let alone summon a weapon and assess a room alone.
He clears his throat and pushes away from the wall, legs unsteady as he follows Diluc down the stairs, hands coming to rest on the banister in case his legs give. This is embarrassing enough, I could never show my face again if I threw myself down the stairs.
“Why don’t you pick out a movie, Paimon. Aether can help with the hot chocolates.” Diluc is still in usual clothes, Aether realises. His coat discarded and his waist coast left open, the sleeves of his dress shirt are rolled up to his elbows, his top button undone to match the look of exhaustion that paints his features. He decides not to comment on it, he doubts he’s the picture of perfection at the moment, instead following him through to the kitchen. “Can I ask you something?”
It comes out of nowhere, startling the blonde out of his thoughts.
God, do you have to? “ Sure.”
“How old are you?”
And aether freezes.
“ No one’s ever asked you, have they? I mean- everyone considers you to be late teens, too young to drink, but old enough to hold a sword…” He snorts, turning away from the man to pluck a box chocolate mix from the cupboard above him.
“I’m not.. I'm not entirely sure. Three milenia? Well no- i was here for a while so.. three and half?” His words come out jumbled and messy, it’s only occurred to him now that he is, actually, old.
“You’re over three thousand years old?” Aether hums, handing the chocolate to the man. He feels his shoulders slump at his expression, it’s almost funny, the wide eyes and bushy eyebrows practically reaching the ceiling.
“You gonna start serving me at the tavern now?”
Diluc snorts, grabbing the box and a spoon, scooping generous amounts into the cups before grabbing a saucepan. Aether grabs the milk from the fridge, the white bottle a stark contrast to the dark tips of his fingers.
“One more thing…”
He tilts his head up, catching the man’s worried eyes flickering between his hands and the floor. “Mirage. Same with the scars, I don't like people asking about them.”
“My apologies-“
“I put a scythe to your throat, I think you’re allowed to ask.” He says, a small smile pulling at his lips. The kitchen is warm, homely, the presence of the man beside him and the sound of Paimon’s grumbling in the other room is soothing, calming. The frayed edges of his mind are coming together, the jitters in his hands are fading away and he finds his chest loosening just at the redhead's voice. Still.. he’s never spoken about his hands, or his scars. The only person who knows is his sister, and she was there for the making of them all, and Paimon has been gracious enough not to ask. He finds himself nervous, fiddling with a loose thread on his sweatshirt, eyes on the pan as Diluc pours in the milk.
“They were cut off,” he says first, swallowing down his rising emotions, “a few times, actually. Where me and Lumine-“ A wave of guilt and grief washes over him, but he continues, it won’t make sense to the man, but he continues. “Our home was destroyed, and where we went.. it was like your abyss, i suppose. They grew back with frostbite, but because of… someone… they stayed like this.”
Diluc looks confused, eyebrows pinched together, Aether isn’t really surprised, he’d have to explain a lot for it to make sense, and he’s not really in the mood.
“Does it hurt?”
Out of all the questions… “No, not anymore.”
The milk starts bubbling, the atmosphere lifts as the taller pours the milk into the cups, sliding one over for Aether to stir.
“This is how my brother does it, he said it was his mother’s recipe. Something about doing it in khaenri’ah before he came to us.. Kaeya has always been the sentimental type..” Diluc drifts off, pulling a small bottle of honey from the cupboard below and spooning some into each cup. “I hated it at first, I thought it was too sweet. I think it was less about the drink, though, I was still angry.”
“Neither of you handled it very well, did you?”
Diluc smiles, “No, but we’re working through it.”
There’s a kids movie playing by the time Aether is curled up on the couch, Paimon sitting on his lap with an empty cup in her hands, snoring softly into his chest. His chest tightens every now and then, hands still shaking where they grip his empty mug. Diluc leaves for a moment with their mugs, the screen filtering out the silence and chasing away the darkness. Then, Diluc returns, carrying a blanket and a stack of paper.
“Sleep, I need to do some work, so I'll keep watch for you both.” He never questions it, Aether’s paranoia and fear, his eyes scanning the room and flicking to the door before holding paimon tighter to his chest; Aether can’t begin to express his gratitude, not when his eyes are already slipping closed.
Diluc helps him lay down, head resting on Diluc’s thigh and a blanket resting over him and paimon. He hears the rustling of paper and the click of a pen, the last thing he sees is the flickering of characters on the screen. Like this, with the warmth of Diluc below him and blanket, and soft snowing of his companion, the darkness doesn’t seem so terrifying.