Work Text:
You are not alone.
You are surrounded by life.
————
Dragonspine was a lonely place. This was not an opinion, but rather an observation. An objective truth. The mountain was isolated from the rest of Mondstadt, and from the rest of civilization, really.
Yet the mountain teems with life. Among the biting cold, flora and fauna surround him, enduring as a result of countless trials and errors of acclimating to the harsh climate. Albedo was the walking contradiction, as he was the only thing without life flowing through his veins.
Most days, this fact didn’t bother him. The alchemist’s life would continue on the same no matter how much thought he stressed over it. At some indefinite point in time, however, things began to change. The sky was grayer, the wind was colder, and the usual calm of the mountain felt a bit more unearthly.
Although he couldn’t see it, it felt as if a storm was on the horizon, on the brink of breaking through whatever barrier had been holding it back for so long.
There were no mirrors up here. Not that he wanted to see himself, or the shell of a thing that called itself “Albedo”. Occasionally, when he walked past a rather sheer slate of ice, he would be able to get a glimpse of his appearance. His reflection was always the same— ashy hair that was kept out of his face by braids connected at the back of his head. The paleness of his skin gave way to the lack of blood flowing beneath it, giving him an eerie complexion. His eyes were a constellation of dying stars. A glistening sea full of sunken ships.
Most people found the quiet mountain to be a dreary place, but to Albedo, it was perfect. It was something that many people didn’t understand, but solitude was his favorite place to be. The only being with conscious thought up here— save for the stray adventurer who journeyed too far from the path— yet he didn’t feel lonely. Alone, yes, but never lonely. The company of his shadow was all that was needed.
Despite residing in such a desolate place, he was never at a loss of what to do. One of the few things Albedo prided him on was his balance of being able to see the scientific and the aesthetic in everything.
He was surrounded by a tranquil silence.
The trees whispered secrets into the wind that only Albedo would hear. Flakes of snow glistened as they made their way to their temporary resting place before being carried along by the other forces of nature. Animals chirped and scurried about, their tracks being the only indication of wildlife existing at this altitude. If he focused hard enough, he could feel the dull hum of the remaining energy that escaped the mountain via the remains of Durin. Even that heart, with nothing attached to it, felt more alive than the synthetic being that watched over it.
Most of his time was spent on his research and experiments, mind reeling with more questions than he could keep up with answering. If ever he found himself in a rut, all he needed to do was pull out his sketchbook and let the scenery speak to him. After spending hours in his lab, he thought he was just about due for a small break. He grabbed his book and headed out of the cave up the winding mountain trail.
Everyone thought that Dragonspine was full of death and decay, but Albedo would always beg to differ. There was beauty in the way the snow graced the trees and branches, with how the clouds in the sky took on their various shapes, and how the flora up here were different variants of the specimens that grew down in the city.
Albedo continued his trek up the path. A branch that had snapped off of a tree lay in the snow before him. He reached down to gently pick it up and inspect it as it resided in his hand. The branch grew and bloomed beyond his fingers, a new life running through it.
Does a being who is incapable of feeling their own heart have the right to grant life to another?
It wasn’t a sad thought, rather an analytical one.
There was no bother trying to answer it. Such philosophical questions never seemed to have a solid answer, and while some found it fun to ponder the mysteries that would forever remain unsolved, Albedo found it to be rather unnecessary.
Results were tangible things, proof that something exists and can be manipulated. In the eyes of an alchemist, that was all that mattered.
Albedo sighed as he opened his palm, letting the wind carry the branch away from his hand and off to its next destination. He had reached one of the mountain’s many outlooks, giving him a perfect vantage point of the region. Dvalin’s lair and the Windrise tree, sandwiching the populous city between green hills and forests.
Mondstadt was a bustling city, full of people and life. The wind brought drafts of freedom and joy, with troubles seeming to be a fleeting presence once you stepped foot through the city gates. Conversation flowed as easily as wine and there was never a loss of laughter in the air. Albedo had managed to make a name for himself among the city, though rather unintentionally. The Chief Alchemist— mysterious yet alluring, reserved yet genius. Everywhere Albedo went, admiring eyes were always on him. Whether it be his looks, intellect, or philanthropic work (most of the time inadvertent), the populace always held him in high regard.
Living in Mondstadt was as much of a curse as it was a blessing, as he had never been fond of social situations. They were manageable, as he always had the right words to say to please the crowd and a smile that brightened faces around him, but highly exhausting. The compliments and admiration were all greatly appreciated, of course, but hearing such praise so often began to be a tune that lost its resonance within him. When it came down to it, it was all just flattery. No matter how many acquaintances he made, the majority failed to form any sort of meaningful connection. He had friends, of course— his alchemical subordinate, the mischievous cavalry captain, even the Acting Grand Master herself— all of whom meant something dear to him, but failed to see through his well-structured facade. Aware of it, surely, but always bit their tongue at the prospect of digging deeper.
No matter how many times he walked through the city, it always felt as if he was out of place. No one else knew it, but deep down Albedo was aware that he did not belong among these people. They had accepted him as one of them, but he would never feel anything short of an imposter.
Albedo kept his circle small. So small, in fact, that it consisted of three people. Alice, the only person who knew him better than himself yet was always as fleeting as the wind, and her daughter Klee, the young fireball that managed to burn her way directly into his heart and had an endless spark of joy and childlike wonder. Those two were the closest thing to a family that Albedo had ever known and has ever wanted to know.
But then there was the enigma— Aether, the celestial being that carried the aura of the stars yet radiated the warmth of the sun. The mysterious being had arrived out of nowhere yet entered Albedo’s life as certainly as if he knew he was meant to be in it. They fit together like pieces that neither realized they were missing, yet questioned how they went so long without. Two forces, transcendent through space and time, that were always meant to collide. As an artist, Albedo was able to find beauty in small details, and Aether was no exception.
Fate in Teyvat was as certain as the stars, and it seemed that the otherworldly being named Aether was destined to be his muse, his light, his partner.
Aether’s absence made him aware of many things, one of them being his ability to feel. Feeling was not something Albedo did, as he never deemed himself capable and wasn’t intrigued enough to try. Once he had a taste of the intoxicating presence that was the traveler, he failed to realize how drunk it made him until he was gone. The pair had different paths ahead of them, but as Albedo had told Aether before he departed after one of their numerous rendezvouses, “No matter where in Teyvat you may go, we will always be underneath the same stars. Should you lose your way, let the Skyfrost Nail guide you home.”
Aether made Albedo feel many things, including the horrible sensation of loneliness. Albedo was fine as he was, isolated on his lonely mountain with only the sounds of sparkling snow and snapping branches giving way to the biting cold. It was strange, how meeting another unnatural being made Albedo feel more human than he ever had before.
And now that he was gone, all he knew was emptiness.
Albedo had always felt empty, really, but never paid any mind. You can’t miss what you’ve never known, or however the saying goes, and Albedo hadn’t known anything else. Despite devoting his life to science and knowledge, this was the one topic he preferred to stay blissfully ignorant on.
Every time Aether came, he brought the warmth of the sun and lit the hearth of their shared home with the flame of something unspoken, but just as heated as a fire itself. Yet every time he left, he took their log cabin comfort with him and left Albedo alone in a glass house.
Slowly but surely, the pieces of Albedo’s guard began to chip away. It was as if Aether tore down all of Albedo’s false appearances of normality, showed him what it meant to feel alive and at home, then took all traces of warmth with him.
Although there was something beautiful about two unnatural, extraordinary life forms being brought together by fate and connecting through the understanding that no one would ever be able to understand them, it didn’t change the fact that they would never be able to fully understand each other.
A big difference between him and Aether was that Aether had a heart of gold and blood flowing through him. He could be wounded, both physically and psychologically. The flush of Aether’s cheeks when he got embarrassed, the way his eyes longed for his missing sibling, his ability to feel so much— Albedo would never understand.
An unsettling question floated in Albedo’s mind: did he love Aether, or was he just the first person to ever make him aware? Painfully, horrifically aware.
Aware of the numbness, or lack thereof, in his body. Aware that when Aether was gone, nothing was able to ease his racing brain until he returned. Aware that nothing else had ever truly made Albedo feel.
Aware that in more ways than one, he was alone.
The silence had become deafening. What once felt teeming with life suddenly felt like a desolate wasteland where beings, both synthetic and natural, came to die. The scenery felt barren, the emptiness too still. Even his shadow felt like a foreign entity, an ugly thing that would eat him whole if he turned his back to it.
He gazed up at the night sky. The stars seemed so close, so bright up here, that he extended out his arm in the frail hope that he may be able to catch one in the palm of his hand. As if maybe, through sheer luck, the universe would hear his undoing and send the stars falling to the earth just as it had the day Aether arrived.
Silence.
He let out a hesitant breath before returning his arm limp at his side. With his head still tilted back, he scrunched his eyes shut. Here he was, vulnerable to the wilderness, uncaring if the elements decided that his time had come. There was nowhere to hide up here, not that he was sure he’d even run in the first place.
He had truly and utterly been defeated.
Yet even so, the mantra in his head still rang.
You are not alone.
You are surrounded by life.
But are you even alive yourself?