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Though the weather on Dragonspine was unusually clear today, it was no warmer for it, and Aether kept his hands tucked into his armpits as he accompanied Albedo up the mountainside. He was usually pretty good at managing frigid temperatures like this, but Albedo set a brisk pace, seemingly entirely unaffected by the chill. After a while, he had to ask Albedo to stop for a few moments while he warmed his hands over one of the ever-burning braziers that dotted the snowy landscape.
“My apologies,” Albedo murmured sheepishly, fiddling with the end of one of his gloves. “I’m afraid the temperature rather slipped my mind.”
Aether snickered softly. “Are you that excited to go pick weeds with me?”
Albedo raised an eyebrow. “Weeds? I thought I told you, the plants we’re looking for are exceptionally sensitive to elemental energy. Dragonspine is one of very few environments where they are able to grow at all.”
“Okay, not weeds then. Point taken.”
“And anyway,” Albedo continued, crossing his arms, “gathering samples is nothing more stimulating than what I usually do. Spending time with you, however… tends to excite my interest.”
He’d said it without an ounce of insincerity. Aether brought his hands to his face and pretended to blow on them in an attempt to try and hide the fierce blush that burned across his cheeks. “H-How much further?”
“Not too far. It’s just over the next ridge.” Albedo glanced at him, and Aether withdrew from the radiating heat of the brazier with a soft sigh.
“Alright. Lead on, then.”
Though the ridge Albedo had pointed out wasn’t far, it was relatively steep, and it took the two of them a while to work their way up it. Even Albedo, for all his unruffled demeanour, seemed slightly winded by the time they crested the hill.
Once Aether had caught his breath, he lifted his head to take in their surroundings, and was instantly captivated by the sight. Hundreds of tiny plants poked through the surface of the snow, unfurling pale, semi-translucent leaves in groups of four, resembling flower petals. They coated the ground like a second, shimmering layer of rime, twinkling faintly in the noonday sun. The scene was beautiful in the way that Dragonspine was beautiful: an isolated, lonely sort of beauty.
“Here,” Albedo told him, tossing him a small sample jar. “Try not to take more than one leaf from the same plant. Also, while it may be difficult to avoid stepping on them, it would be best to avoid disturbing the specimens you intend to take samples from.”
Aether nodded, only half-listening. “I had no idea a place like this existed on Dragonspine.”
Albedo chuckled. “Neither did I, until I happened to glimpse it from further up the mountain during a different expedition I made a few days ago. It’s a bit hard to reach, but well worth the trek.” He cast his gaze around the small valley. “It’s a much better sight up close. I should come back sometime with my painting supplies.”
The two of them shortly set to work collecting samples. Aether quickly discovered that the leaves were delicate enough to tear at the slightest mishandling, so he pulled off his right-hand glove and began picking them barehanded instead. He and Albedo fell into a comfortable rhythm, neither speaking, both immersed in the work, until eventually Aether looked down and found that his sample jar was full.
“Looks like I’m done,” he said, turning back to where he’d last seen Albedo sifting through the carpet of gossamer leaves.
He blinked. Albedo wasn’t there.
“Albedo?” Aether swivelled around, scanning the valley for him, but the alchemist was nowhere in sight. He got to his feet uneasily.
The two of them had left a clear trail of footprints in the undisturbed snow on their way down into the tiny valley, but now there was a new set of prints, leading into a thicket of pine trees at the edge of the ridge. A quick flash of Elemental Sight confirmed for him that they were indeed Albedo’s.
“What’s he up to…?” Aether muttered. Albedo often had his own agenda, and he didn’t always fill Aether in on all the details, but he’d certainly never left him in the lurch like this before. Had something urgent come up?
Picking his way carefully out of the field of plants, Aether followed Albedo’s footprints through the thicket. On the other side, the land sloped down steeply in a cascade of snow and loose stones. Sliding down would be easy enough, but getting back up would be virtually impossible.
Aether bit his lip. Albedo’s tracks went right up to the edge, where they briefly turned into a thick, solid line indicating where he had slid down the slope, then resumed at the bottom. Clearly Albedo hadn’t been concerned about the return journey.
Feeling unnerved, Aether cautiously slid down the slope himself, picking himself up at the bottom and dusting the snow off his trousers. Albedo wouldn’t just abandon him on Dragonspine. There had to be a reason he’d gone off without telling Aether.
Albedo’s footprints led to the right, along the cliffside, and Aether followed them, picking his way through deep snow and the occasional copse of trees. He called out Albedo’s name occasionally, but received no response, and his bad feeling continued to grow.
Eventually he came around a jutting outcrop in the cliffside, and to his relief, spotted a solitary figure crouched over something in the snow.
“Albedo!” he called out, picking up his pace. “I filled the sample jar you gave me… What are you doing over here?”
Albedo did not react, though he was definitely within earshot. As Aether drew closer, he could see the alchemist’s hands moving, digging determinedly through the snow and the soil beneath it. His steps slowed briefly.
“Did you find something…?”
Aether crouched next to Albedo, who did not stop digging or even look up. His hands were filthy. Beneath them, Aether could see the edge of something smooth and black poking out from the dirt.
Feeling a strange apprehension, Aether reached down, scraping away some of the dirt with his gloved hand, and took hold of the thing. It felt like cold glass under his fingers, frictionless yet solid.
He tried to pull it out of the ground, but there seemed to be a good chunk of it still buried, so he scraped away more dirt alongside Albedo before trying again. This time, he felt it begin to come loose, and he shook it back and forth vigorously to widen the space they had created in the soil. With a sound like a soft gasp, the earth released it, and Aether sat back heavily from the leftover momentum.
In his hand was an oblong plate-like object, just slightly smaller than his palm, and flattened on one edge. He noticed he’d nicked his finger slightly while pulling it out, and as he turned it over, discerned the reason: the other edge tapered into razor-sharpness, akin to a blade. The texture of the thing was like glass, but it didn’t have much of a shine to it, more resembling a blackened, sea-polished stone.
“What… is it?” Aether asked slowly, glancing up at Albedo. The alchemist had stopped digging, and was now regarding him expressionlessly. He reached out as if to take the disc, and Aether quickly moved his hand out of reach.
“Hold on, it’s sharp. You should put your gloves back on first.”
Albedo stared at him blankly. Aether swallowed.
“…Albedo?”
The next thing he knew, he was flat on his back on the ground, winded, and Albedo was on top of him, reaching for the strange object. It was a few seconds before Aether’s mind could form any thoughts beyond dull shock, but once he could, his first thought overwhelmed his senses with dread and eclipsed anything that might have come after.
This thing is controlling him.
Panicked, Aether brought the arm holding it up over his head, trying to keep it as far away from Albedo as he could. If it really was controlling the alchemist somehow, who knew what would happen if Aether let him take it?
“Albedo, what— what are you doing? Can you hear me?”
The alchemist’s movements were sluggish, as if he were in a daze. He didn’t seem to be trying to hurt Aether, only pin him down so he could take the disc. Aether wondered how long that would last if he kept trying to play keep-away.
As Albedo reached for the disc clutched tightly in Aether’s hand, the traveller felt his weight shift to the side, and used the opportunity to roll them both over, grabbing Albedo’s shoulder with his free hand to keep them entangled. Once he was on top, he shoved his forearm up against Albedo’s throat, holding the disc up above his head in his other hand.
The movement brought them close to the hole Albedo had dug, and as he was rolled over, the alchemist’s head connected squarely with a large stone that sat among the various chunks of debris that had been dug up. Aether felt the vibration of the impact, but it wasn’t until he had Albedo pinned down that he realised the other man had stopped moving.
He cursed, beginning to lift his arm from Albedo’s throat, only to slam it back down when he felt the alchemist stir beneath him. Albedo let out a surprised choke, and Aether instinctively eased up, feeling sweat trickle down the back of his neck.
“Sorry, I— Are you okay?”
Albedo blinked up at him owlishly, taking a second to respond. “…Aether?”
“Yeah?”
“What…” He paused, brows drawing together. “Sorry, I seem to be a bit disoriented. Did I hit my head?”
“Uh… yeah,” Aether answered cautiously, leaning his weight back slightly while still keeping enough pressure on Albedo to keep him pinned. “Just now.”
“That explains the ache,” Albedo muttered. His eyes narrowed for a moment, then suddenly went wide as his gaze fell on the object in Aether’s hand. Aether stiffened, raising it back above his head in case Albedo tried to make a grab for it.
“Aether, your hand,” Albedo said urgently, pushing up against Aether’s hold. Aether kept him firmly pressed to the ground.
“I’m not letting you anywhere near this thing after how weird it had you acting just now.”
“No,” Albedo insisted, “I mean you’re bleeding.”
Aether risked a glance at his hand. Keeping the sharp disc clenched so tightly in his fist during the fight had caused several deep cuts in his palm, all bleeding heavily. He hadn’t noticed in the chaos.
“I… don’t know why you’re holding me down,” Albedo said slowly, “but it looks like something serious transpired.”
Aether regarded him cautiously for a moment. He seemed to have snapped out of whatever trance the disc had put him in, but…
“If I let you up, you’re not gonna try and grab this thing, right?” Aether began to shift his weight, keeping his gaze locked on Albedo.
“Based solely on the circumstantial evidence, I… don’t think I ought to get too close to it, so, no.” Albedo’s eyes followed him as he got up, still wide with bewilderment. The alchemist waited a moment before trying to sit up, wincing and bringing a hand to his head.
“You okay?”
“Yes. I’d very much like to know what happened, but I think your hand needs treatment first. Why don’t we…”
Albedo trailed off as he watched Aether briefly set down the disc and wipe his bloodied hand in the snow. Though he said nothing, it was clear from his expression what he thought.
“What? It’s clean.”
“…Is that how you normally deal with injuries?” Albedo’s voice was gentle, but incredulous.
“No.” Aether got to his feet, gingerly picking up the disc again in his opposite, still-gloved hand. “This hardly counts as an injury, though.”
Albedo’s expression darkened further, and Aether sighed. “I’m a lot more concerned about you right now than I am about a couple cuts on my hand, if I’m being honest.”
“I suppose that’s fair enough,” Albedo acknowledged. “Why don’t we head back to my campsite, and then you can tell me the details of what transpired while I take care of your hand? Is that a good compromise?”
“Sure,” Aether agreed. He considered the disc in his hand pensively for a moment.
He could bury it again, and he very much wanted to, but… there was nothing to prevent Albedo from simply returning and digging it back up, if he were possessed a second time.
Aether hesitated for a few seconds before placing the disc securely in the bag at his hip. Better that he knew where it was, he thought. Albedo watched him closely, but said nothing.
They made their way back to Albedo’s camp in grim silence, and once they arrived, Albedo immediately set to work cleaning and bandaging Aether’s injured hand. It was a good while before Aether could organise his thoughts well enough to begin to recount everything to him, and Albedo listened patiently, not interjecting until Aether had finished.
“From what you’ve told me,” Albedo said seriously, “I believe that the object I dug up… may have been one of Durin’s scales. Though I only caught a brief glimpse of it.”
“I could give you another look,” Aether offered hesitantly, and Albedo immediately shook his head.
“Best not. You were right to keep it away from me.”
Aether shifted, keenly conscious of the scale weighing down the bag at his side. “…Why?”
Albedo paused before responding. “I assume you mean why it had that effect on me. The answer, I’m afraid, is a complex one, and the best I can offer you is an educated guess.”
“You don’t know either?”
“Not for certain. Though this is not the first time I’ve had an… episode like this.” Albedo pinched the bridge of his nose. He’d washed his hands thoroughly before tending to Aether’s wound, but Aether could still see dirt trapped under his fingernails from the desperation with which he had torn at the earth.
“My hypothesis is this,” Albedo said at last. “Durin’s blood, which has a unique effect on the flora and fauna of Dragonspine, has never appeared to affect me before. I assumed this was because we are made from a similar base material. However, it is also possible that it simply had no observable effect on me.” He swallowed. “Sometimes, I… wake up places on the mountain with no memory of how I got there. Other times, I come across my own footprints coming back from places I know I haven’t visited recently. These gaps in my memory seem to occur infrequently, with no noticeable pattern, and that has made investigations into them… rather difficult.”
“You could have asked for help,” Aether said numbly. “You should have asked for help.”
“From who?” Albedo returned dryly, and Aether’s mouth abruptly snapped shut.
He’d been about to say ‘from me’, but that wasn’t fair. How often was he back in Mondstadt? How much of that time did he actually spend with Albedo? As much as he could, certainly, but that rarely amounted to more than a few days total. And after his travels had brought him to Inazuma and eventually Sumeru, he had been returning less and less often. The last time he’d been back… Had it been Windblume? Or Weinlesefest?
“…What about Timaeus and Sucrose?” he asked instead, lamely. Albedo gave a tired smile.
“If I told either of them about this, they wouldn’t ever be able to look at me without worrying. I don’t wish for that. Both for their sakes and mine.”
Unwilling to meet Albedo’s gaze, Aether stared down at his freshly bandaged hand. “S-So… You think Durin is possessing you?”
Albedo responded gladly to the change of subject. “No. Durin is long dead, his consciousness eroded beyond any semblance of lucidity, most likely. My best guess is that this is the form his corruption takes on me, whenever I am exposed to it.”
“His corruption?”
“The poison in his blood. It instilled in him a strange and otherworldly vitality, but it also drove him mad.” Albedo narrowed his eyes. “It’s… possible that it could do the same to me.”
Aether took a moment to process that, head spinning. “You think it’s— corrupting your mind?”
“It’s not impossible. But that is merely conjecture.” Albedo shook his head. “In any case, a proper investigation into this would require long-term observation, and I do not expect you to stay in Mondstadt that long. The progress I can make on my own is slow, but I am making progress. I will find a solution for this.”
“There must be something I can do,” Aether insisted, his tongue feeling thick in his mouth for being unable to say ‘I’ll stay however long you need.’
“Certainly,” Albedo replied, his expression barely changing. Aether had no sense of what the alchemist was feeling right now. “Do you remember the sword I gave you some time ago?”
“The Festering Desire,” Aether answered immediately. “Of course I do. I still have it.”
“As you may recall, I gave you that sword to test your ability to purify the corruption from Durin’s remains,” Albedo continued. “Based on the results of that experiment, if you were to carry the scale I dug up on your person for a few days, I believe you would be able to purify it as well. That would remove the source of the corruption I experienced today.”
“But not the other ones,” Aether muttered, and Albedo nodded.
“For that, you would have to purify the entire mountain. And although you may be quite powerful, I’m afraid such a task is somewhat beyond even your abilities.”
That needled Aether more than he expected. “Why stay on the mountain at all, then? Wouldn’t you be safer if you just stayed in Mondstadt?”
Albedo turned his head, until his expression was fully obscured by the fall of his hair against the side of his face. He seemed to be gazing out at the snowy landscape outside the camp entrance.
“Perhaps,” he said softly. “But then again… perhaps not.”
Aether crossed his arms. He was irritated, he realised, both at himself and at Albedo, though the reason was difficult to put into words.
“You’re hoping to uncover the reason for your… episodes. That’s why you spend so much time on Dragonspine.”
“It’s far from the only reason,” Albedo corrected, turning back to face him, “but yes. The more I know about them, the more I’ll be able to do to stop them from happening.”
Aether couldn’t argue against that, though he would have liked to.
“So,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose as he did his best to think rationally. “Hold on. You want me to carry around this scale for a few days, until it gets purified.”
“That’s right.”
“And… you’re gonna stay here? On the mountain?”
Albedo nodded. “I can’t take the samples we gathered down to Mondstadt’s altitude without severely damaging the elemental structure. Though I can see that you think I ought to do otherwise.”
“Obviously,” Aether said, with more hostility than he meant to, and he took a moment to bring himself back. “Obviously. Yes. I do think that.”
“I understand,” Albedo responded levelly. “I know you’re worried, and with good reason. But I would like you to trust me this time when I say I will be alright on my own.”
“You can’t know that,” Aether insisted, taking a step forward with the intention of grabbing Albedo’s shoulders for emphasis. Albedo quickly stepped back, keeping himself out of reach.
“You shouldn’t get close,” he warned, expression terming stern. “Until the scale is purified, it is extraordinarily risky for me to be in close proximity to it. As we discovered earlier today.”
“So… What? I’m just supposed to leave?”
“Only for a few days,” Albedo assured him. “Don’t worry. This isn’t very different from what we normally do, is it?”
Aether winced, and a tangled mess of excuses floated to the front of his mind: that he was busy hammering out commissions from the Guild, that the Knights had needed his help, that Bennett had gotten himself caught by Treasure Hoarders again. They were all true, but that didn’t erase the fact that he had already been back in Mondstadt for almost a week before coming to see Albedo.
“I’ll go, then,” he answered unhappily. Albedo gave him an odd look.
“I’ll see you soon.”
“Yeah.”
—
It hadn’t even been a full day yet, and Aether was already reconsidering his decision to leave Albedo alone. Sure, he would be safer without the scale nearby, but what if some other piece of Durin called out to him while Aether was away? What if he wasn’t himself by the time Aether came back?
He sighed, running his hands down his face. Paimon regarded him worriedly.
“Are you okay? You’ve seemed… off, ever since you got back from Dragonspine. And you still haven’t told Paimon what happened to your hand!”
“I’m fine,” Aether reassured her, letting himself fall back onto his bed. “I just need to sleep and forget about it.”
“Well… if you say so…”
He felt bad for worrying Paimon, and worse for not trusting Albedo’s words. Albedo wouldn’t have sent him away unless he was absolutely certain it was the best course of action. He knew that.
But what if Albedo hadn’t been in his right mind when he had said that?
Aether turned onto his side, frustrated. It was late— too late to try and make the trek back up Dragonspine tonight. If he was still this anxious in the morning, maybe he could leave the scale with Paimon for a bit and just… check in on him.
It couldn’t hurt to just check. As long as he didn’t bring the scale.
“Goodnight, Aether,” came Paimon’s hesitant voice from across the room. A faint guilt lapped at him, warm like the beginnings of fever.
“Goodnight, Paimon,” he said into his pillow.
—
When he woke, his heart was pounding. He couldn’t recall what he had dreamt about, but he knew it hadn’t been good. The sheets beneath him were cold with sweat, and his clothes clung to him uncomfortably.
He sat up, and as if shaken loose, the fear fell back into his body.
Something was happening to Albedo. He was certain of it.
Fumbling in the darkness, Aether pulled his boots on, breath coming quickly. He should have been there to stop this. He should have sensed something was wrong sooner. He should have dragged Albedo down off that mountain— he should have kept him safe— what would Klee do if something happened to her brother?
His hands shook on the doorknob. He took a moment to compose himself before venturing out into the teapot house’s foyer, skin crawling with nervous energy.
This is wrong.
Paimon was none too happy about being woken up, but he had no time to explain things to her, and merely left her his bag with the scale enclosed, and a grave instruction not to open or go near it. Hopefully she would guard it properly— she often acted childlike, but she tended to be dependable when it counted.
This is wrong.
Traversing Dragonspine was treacherous during the day. At night, it was even worse. The cold felt twice as raw, and in the darkness, the snowy landscape blended together into a smeared sea of grey. Aether had to follow the brief gaps of moonlight through the clouds, hoping he wasn’t straying too far from the path. He couldn’t bring himself to care, though. He knew the way well enough, and every second that passed without knowing Albedo was okay was more painful than the biting cold.
This is wrong.
When he reached Albedo’s campsite, the braziers were still crackling with familiar warmth, and Aether allowed himself to relax just slightly.
“Albedo?”
The silence that greeted him was one of the worst things he’d ever experienced. In a daze, he stumbled to the back of the cave, where he knew Albedo kept his bedroll for when he needed to sleep at camp.
The bedroll was neatly rolled up and tucked to the side of the alchemist’s supplies. It was still tied firmly at each end.
Aether swallowed thickly. Albedo had never made it to bed.
Head spinning, he stumbled backwards, back out into the chill of Dragonspine. The flickering firelight fell on a set of footprints, achingly familiar, leading out towards the cliffside.
No. No, no, no, no, no…
Aether sprinted down the slope towards Wyrmrest Valley, fighting not to slip in the snow only because he knew getting back up would slow him down. His heart was pounding in his ears.
This— This is wrong—
He didn’t know how he got to the bottom, whether he slid or climbed or glided, but when he next looked up he was standing at the yawning mouth of a cave, like a ragged wound in the earth. The footprints stopped with the snow, giving way to red-dyed grass and a silent vibration in the air, like indiscernible breathing. It didn’t matter. He knew they led inside.
Each step felt like agony, but he had to take them. He had to take them.
This is— M-My head—
“Aether!”
The voice cut through his haze, and he blinked, finding himself already well within the cave’s entrance. There was a hand on his shoulder, tugging him back.
He turned, eyes wide, to face Albedo.
“Don’t go any further in,” the alchemist warned, expression dark. “The influence will only get stronger.”
“What… How…”
Aether felt like his mind was splitting in half. Part of him knew this was wrong, this was all so wrong, but— he’d been so worried—
“I’ll explain once we get a bit further away,” Albedo promised, and something in his voice made Aether pause. There was concern there, and urgency, but there was also something else that he’d never heard so strongly in the alchemist’s voice before.
Fear.
Aether allowed Albedo to lead him out of the cave, head throbbing. Albedo’s gentle hand on his back felt too cold— or perhaps he was the one who was too warm. Come to think of it, he hadn’t bothered bringing a warming bottle or any fire source up the mountain with him… How had he even made it to Albedo’s camp?
“Albedo,” he began, pausing when his voice cracked. “What’s… happening to me?”
“Durin’s poison got into your bloodstream,” Albedo explained softly. “You are experiencing symptoms of his corruption.”
Oh… That’s why…
“That can’t be,” Aether protested weakly. “I’m— I can’t be corrupted. You gave me the scale— to purify it, I—”
“Your body will likely purify the poison inside of you, yes, but it’s quite strong. It will take a few days to get it completely out of your system.”
Aether stopped walking, forcing Albedo to stop with him. “You knew.”
Albedo did not turn around, but his hand on Aether’s arm tightened its grip slightly.
“Why didn’t you tell me? If— If I’d known, I would have—”
“Aether.”
Albedo finally turned to face him, and Aether recoiled from the intensity in his expression.
“I don’t know how much of you is yourself right now. So forgive me, but I would prefer to save this conversation for later.”
I’m sorry… Archons, I’m so sorry, Albedo.
“No, I-I need to know,” Aether insisted, heat pulsing under his skin. “Why— Why weren’t you at your camp? Why did your footprints lead me here?”
“I was at my camp, Aether,” Albedo said firmly. “There were no footprints. You were dreaming.”
Dreaming?
“You mean… I hallucinated everything?” Aether’s breaths were coming fast and shallow.
“I greeted you when you entered the campsite, but you did not respond to anything I said, and ran off shortly thereafter. It seems you didn’t see or hear me at all.”
Aether shook his head despairingly. “I… I thought you got— taken over again. But it was me who got taken over.”
“Not exactly,” Albedo clarified. “You still seem to have your consciousness, mostly. That is different from what I experienced.”
Aether felt sick. Not just from the revelation, or from the burning heat that pulsed through his veins with every beat of his heart. His head was swimming, caught between himself and himself.
But if I’m corrupted—
“—You’re in danger,” Aether realised, pulling himself out of Albedo’s grip. “That’s why you sent me away. I can purify this, but you can’t.”
“Aether—”
As Aether stumbled back, one of his feet slipped in the snow, and Albedo caught him hastily.
“Aether, you’re not in your right mind. Let me look after you until morning.”
No… Something’s not right.
“Yeah,” Aether panted, wiping a thin sheet of sweat from his forehead. “Okay. Let’s— Let’s head back to your camp.”
Albedo offered his hand, and Aether took it without thinking. Albedo’s touch felt like frigid ice against the heat that pulsed beneath his bandages.
Something shifted inside him, and he felt his hand lock around Albedo’s wrist like a vise.
Startled, Albedo tried to yank his hand back, but Aether’s grip only tightened further. Confused, Aether brought his other hand up to try and tug his errant limb away from Albedo.
“Wh-Why am I…?”
“Aether,” Albedo said, with a note of panic that sounded quite out of place in the alchemist’s usually calm and steady voice. “Are you able to let go of me?”
“I’m— I’m trying, but—”
There was a pulse that sent an intangible vibration throughout both halves of him, centering on his hand, and Aether winced as his mind scraped against itself in its effort to realign. Heat seared through his body, setting his veins alight, until—
“I can’t feel my hand,” he gasped, and it was then that he saw the thin tendrils of crimson creeping up Albedo’s forearm from beneath the bandages on his own palm. Albedo’s gaze was firmly fixed on them as well, and he had grown very still.
This is…
“...The corruption in my blood…?” Aether breathed.
As he watched the tendrils curl around Albedo’s wrist, binding them together, he suddenly felt a chill. It still didn’t feel nearly as cold as it ought to, but the feverish heat seemed to be gradually leaving him through his palm along with the corruption.
“Seems like it would rather have me than you,” Albedo observed darkly. Aether couldn’t tell if he had calmed down, or if this was just how he acted when he was afraid.
He tried again, fruitlessly, to pull his hand away from Albedo’s. “What should I do?”
“Nothing. You can’t stop it.” Albedo continued to observe with a sort of morbid fascination as the red tendrils thickened, climbing up his arm like fast-growing vines. “I wonder if it knows your body isn’t suitable to host it. Perhaps this whole—”
“Albedo!”
The alchemist’s gaze flicked up to meet his, and Aether wasn’t quite sure how to read the emotion there. There was fear, clear and prominent, but there was something else as well.
“I’ll be alright,” he said, with firmness. “I need you to trust me this time.”
Aether stared. “But—”
I trust you.
“You need my help—”
But I do trust you.
Aether fell silent, unable to determine which half of him was in the right. His mind still felt slightly askew, as though parts of him that were meant to be perfectly aligned had been knocked aside to overlap with each other unevenly.
Evidently some of his struggle was evident on his face, because Albedo laughed softly, in a voice hoarse with tension. With his free hand, he gently pulled Aether’s head forward, and to the traveller’s shock, planted a brief kiss on his forehead.
“I don’t want you worrying about me,” he said, while Aether was still reeling from what had just transpired. “But that makes it my responsibility to be less worrisome.”
The crimson tendrils had reached Albedo’s shoulder, and were beginning to creep up his neck in the direction of his pontil mark. He regarded them pensively for a moment, then brought his free hand up to rest over his upper arm, closing his eyes.
His Vision pulsed, then flashed, and Aether braced himself belatedly as elemental energy flared between them. Though he still had no feeling in his hand, he could feel the repulsive heat— now almost completely extracted from him— dull significantly. A second later, he was hit with a thick cloud of steam, nearly as hot as the corruption had been, and he flinched.
“It’s trying to go back into you,” warned Albedo’s voice urgently from the haze of steam.
“What should I—”
I won’t let it.
Another flare of energy, this one invisible, and Aether staggered backwards, blinking brilliant stars from his vision. Like a veil lifting, the haze in his mind cleared, and he clicked back into the space of himself.
Stunned, Aether lifted his hand to stare at it, numbly unwrapping the bandages and letting them fall. There were no marks on his skin. He could feel everything just fine, as he proved by curling his fingers experimentally.
“Aether?”
When he glanced up again, the steam had cleared, and Albedo was regarding him warily. Around him lay several large chunks of Scarlet Quartz, scattered in the snow with thin wisps of steam still issuing from their glinting surface.
“What did you do?” Aether asked, letting his hand fall.
“I used my Vision to crystallise the blood. I wasn’t sure if Geo would work on its own, so I also used a bit of alchemy to alter its structure somewhat.” He briefly glanced at the circle of Scarlet Quartz he’d created. “Though it appears I needn’t have bothered.”
Aether blinked. “You thought this out, didn’t you? You needed to bait the corruption out of me so that you could make sure you got all of it in one swoop.”
“An astute inference.” Albedo smiled slightly. “I knew I would be cutting it close if I ended up having to attempt this, but I didn’t quite anticipate it coming that close.”
Aether smiled back, weakly, and felt the wound-up tension begin to trickle out of his body.
“Were you planning this from the start, too?”
“Archons, no.” Albedo raised his eyebrows. “If I’d known this would happen, I never would have left you alone in the first place.”
The words were achingly familiar, and Aether laughed to hear them coming out of Albedo’s mouth for once.
Suddenly he felt quite unsteady on his feet, and quickly took a seat on the ground before his body decided to do so for him. The snow felt cold now— properly cold, and he found the discomfort relieving.
“Are you alright?” Albedo inquired, coming to rest beside him. Aether nodded.
“Just a little lightheaded.”
“You have lost a significant amount of blood. I would suggest that you try to avoid exerting yourself for a while.”
“Yeah,” Aether replied, half-listening. When he had sat down, something had crunched unpleasantly in one of his pockets, and he was now rifling through them to try and find the source. After a few seconds, he abruptly realised that he was still wearing the side pouch where he had placed Durin’s scale, and that the sensation had come from within it. His fingers froze over the flap.
“Aether?”
He shook himself. “No, I’m fine. I just— I could have sworn I left this bag with Paimon.”
Albedo’s eyes narrowed. “And how clearly do you remember it?”
Aether opened his mouth, then closed it again.
“If you think too hard about it, does it seem like a dream?”
Unhooking the pouch from his hip, Aether spent a few moments staring at it. “Was my brain really that messed up?”
Albedo’s hand came to rest reassuringly on his shoulder. “What matters is that you are alright now.”
They both watched with a numb fascination as Aether pulled the bag open, turning it over to allow the contents to spill into the snow. A line of black powder fell from the opening, like scattered soil over the whiteness of the ground.
There was no need to ask what it was from. Aether met Albedo’s gaze, stunned.
“How did…?”
“I don’t know,” Albedo answered, sounding impressed. “But it must have been you.”
“I didn’t do anything, though.”
Albedo glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, and whatever flickered through his expression, it was gone before Aether could process it.
“If you’re certain,” he replied mildly, and Aether was left to wonder what exactly he was leaving unsaid.
Aether shivered, bringing his hands up to rub his bare arms, and Albedo quickly stood up.
“We should head back to my camp. It’s not good for you to be out in these temperatures.”
Aether nodded his agreement, leaning heavily on Albedo as the alchemist helped him to his feet. The yawning cave mouth quietly retreated behind them as they left together. Aether wanted to turn around and watch it vanish, but he refrained, keeping his attention on placing one foot properly in front of the other.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured into Albedo’s shoulder, and the alchemist huffed softly.
“For what, exactly?”
“Not trusting you to be okay on your own. Thinking I could help you when I couldn’t even help myself.”
Albedo shook his head. “I haven’t exactly done much to earn that trust. I don’t blame you for your concern.”
“And,” Aether continued, swallowing his guilt, “for not being here when you needed me.”
That seemed to give Albedo pause, though when he spoke he sounded more confused than wronged.
“Are you speaking of when I fell under Durin’s influence?”
“You said it’s happened before,” Aether said despondently. “While I was away.”
Realisation sparked in Albedo’s eyes, and he looked away briefly.
“…That’s true,” he murmured. “Perhaps… Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps I do need someone with me during those times, like today.”
“That’s why—”
“But it shouldn’t have to be you,” Albedo continued firmly. “You need to find your sister. You cannot stay in Mondstadt just to take on this responsibility for me.”
“I want to,” argued Aether, voice rising and then falling again. “I… want to, but…”
“You are not my guardian, Aether,” Albedo told him gently. “Nor should you be. To me, you are…”
Aether waited for his next words, but they didn’t come. He looked over to see Albedo’s gaze fixed on the twinkling night sky above them.
“I suppose I ought to try and work something out with Timaeus and Sucrose,” he said finally, and Aether brought his gaze back to the trampled snow at their feet.
“I think it’ll make them happy,” he said, mouth dry, “feeling like you’re relying on them for something.”
There was a brief silence. Then:
“Would it make you happy, knowing that I rely on you as well?”
Aether was afraid to meet his eyes. “Yeah.”
With the careful gentleness that was inherent to him, Albedo lifted Aether’s chin, and their gazes met softly, like earth and sky.
“Come visit me more often, then.”
“I will.”
“Not as my protector. Not to solve my problems.”
Aether swallowed. “What should I come as, then?”
Albedo gave a moonlike smile, and there in the silently glittering snow, atop a mountain of unknowns, Aether received his answer.