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It was a quiet day, as quiet as it gets in the bustling streets of Sumeru. The wanderer had found himself particularly unlucky today, as despite it all, he finds there a particular commotion his mechanical ears cannot tune out of. At the edge of the city, a certain blonde captain is accompanied by two familiar faces, that of the traveller and the astrologist.
He turns the corner, unwilling to intrude on what was clearly a moment not meant for him, but finds himself at a dead end. Instead of rushing his way back to the Sanctuary, he decides to lean against the gate and listen.
Muffled sounds of boots repeatedly thudding onto stone met the murmur and chatter of merchants not too far from them. On the street one first takes to enter the city from the south, there was incense and bartering galore. Listening proved to be easier than he thought, as from what he could hear, the trio seemed to be taking a leisurely pace.
“Albedo!” A familiar voice calls out. It’s about as lively as the rest of the street is, they’re minding their own business, but he could pick her voice from any crowd. From the way she pronounces her vowels, to the way her current emotion bleeds into every facet of the words that leave her pretty pink lips. “You really didn’t need to accompany me for the journey…”
Ignoring Mona’s protests in favor of a simple response, Albedo offered that the astrologist had a terrible habit of buying things on impulse. He just wanted to be sure she made it to Sumeru city safely. Mona, for her own reaction, he guessed she turned to the traveller from what he heard next.
“Is my company that bad, Mona?” The traveller teased as Paimon flew to and fro about the group. Wanderer could hear her sheathing her sword as they walked, finally content in trusting that Mona is safe.
The astrologist sounded purely indignant as her protests resounded through his mechanical ears. To someone less appreciative, it would be grating. Here, he almost let out a sigh of relief. She really never changes…
He ducked his head low and made himself seem busy as the trio passed him by, but he’d be a liar of the highest degree to say he didn’t sneak a glance at the mage retreating. The traveller and the captain exchanged insistences and pleasantries, while he could faintly hear Mona insist that they simply must accompany her for dinner on her behalf. It’d be a crime not to, if you heard the way she said it. The way she fumbled and stuttered on her words, reminiscent of a teenage girl still bumbling and buzzing with her first crush.
It made something ugly inside of him rise. He’s not so naïve as to believe that he’d truly moved on from who he ‘was’. The clothes he dons may take a blue hue similar to his dear mage’s, but inside the wooden cavity of his chest was a hand, sharp ended, curling and clawing its way at his every ‘nerve’. He couldn’t begin to tell you what that hand looks like, only that it dictates the parts of him that are the most like himself. Uglier so was that he could feel his nerves being tugged at, and his hands twitching with the urge to throw all manners by the wayside. How dare that blonde have the audacity to believe he has the right to let her emotions ever be in a space he took up? How dare he see in himself a proper knight and gentleman? Nothing sounded faker to him than the excuse he rattled off to tag along. Mona would never admit such a thing to the captain. She barely admitted it to him as a harbinger.
A harbinger… hm. Of course. Let that man do as he pleases, the Wanderer was no longer as shackled as that overachieving smug bastard.
He let his gaze rise further beyond the shadows he cast with his hat, and his arms dropped to his sides at the sight before him. Girlish as it may be, he saw the traveller insisting on how little Mona owes the two, the mage’s delicate gloved hands in hers.
…It hasn’t been that long since his farewell. The moon cyclically rises and sets, and having lived this long, its phases begin to resemble that of an elegant eternal twirl around Teyvat. The tides rise and fall, yearning for something it could never reach. His moon had found a lover much closer to her, then. The brightest star in the sky that always seemed by the moon’s side, perhaps her eternal partner in dance. He squints, trying to see the bright reflection of joy in her eyes, to at least bask one more time in the warmth of it. Adorning such beauty was the faintest flush, and though it might’ve been the Sumeru heat, he doubts it is with the way her hands come to cradle those warm cheeks. No, that was the flush of flattery, and how dare the traveller find it in her to betray so many people?
It couldn’t simply be flattery. She makes herself known, then makes herself scarce, and the cycle repeats. What’s so great about those two blondes anyway?
It wasn’t long until he’d snapped himself out his thoughts, to find the trio had already left for their destination after exchanging a buzz of what he could only assume was pleasantries and jumping back and forth about who pays, who’s owed, and whatnot. Something about the Sumeru air tends to do that to people.
Carried on the air were giggles, he found himself lifting his head to widen his view. These runaway strays of laughter weren’t hers, but belonging to those two accompanying her. Though melodious and charming to anyone else, they made his shoulders tense with disgust.
He really, really hopes they take their leave. Quite frankly, he hopes it’s immediate. Otherwise, hoping is the nicest thing he could promise he’ll do.
The House of Daena greeted him with relatively colder air, the smell of books pervaded the place, overpowering whatever scents the people of the Akademiya decorated themselves with. It’s a trait that follows how grand and sprawling the library is. The wanderer lifts his hat momentarily, ruffling his hair dry of the dews that cumulated on it from the humidity, before settling it back where it belongs on his head.
A stark contrast to the pleasant lull of murmurs that was his walk on the edges of the city a few days ago, in front of him as he made his way onto the bridge was a crowd bigger than the usual ones he sees. Rarely do the students group up, for if you made it in to the Akademiya, then you no doubt had an introverted quality to you. It was this unspoken rule that one would leave their social life behind them as they focused on entering the best educational institution in Teyvat.
So it was most shocking to find a familiar blue in the midst of that crowd, a witch’s hat littered with glittering golden stars and topped with a simple golden cone at its end. Unmistakably hers, because no-one would dare wear a hat so absurd and insist it were elegant. Unfortunately, he sees the elegance in it.
He slows his pace to a lazy one, not bothering to hide the fact he’s interested from his perch up on top the bridge looking downwards at the crowd. It buzzes and chatters, and as he focuses his gaze proper, he finds a certain fox-eared man that tends to avoid the Akademiya. What about the mage that compelled him to visit, he had no idea. Though the sight of the forest watcher and the astrologist, he’s honestly left with no choice.
It brings to mind those darker times, of tubes in his back amplifying his power, and an omniscience that now that he recalls it, is rather quite frightening. He remembers striking that man with his over-abundance of electro, and a wince from him recoiling as Mona rested a hand on his shoulder confirmed suspicions he didn’t want the answer to.
Remorse might be the word for it. The wanderer was to avert his gaze, perhaps make a mental note to do something nice for him soon, especially since the scar still buzzed and stung. He keeps his eyes trained on the honored guest, the one the Rtawahist Darshan’s students surrounded with glee and excitement, and he finds instead of the excitement and pride he’d come to expect from Ms. Megistus following such praise, she seems almost frightened. Something empty inside ached, as if she were meant to be some missing piece to fulfill him.
He almost stumbled off the bridge had he not reflexively summoned some Anemo to prevent it. The wanderer staggers backwards, balling his hands into fists. No, why would he pull her out the crowd? Then his fangirls would get him instead.
Forget it, he had a report to give to the Grand Sage on Buer’s behalf.
It’s nights like these, taking step after step up the winding slopes to the Sanctuary of Surasthana, with fireflies making themselves his friends and flowers bending towards him like he were the sun in an otherwise dark place, that he finds himself reminiscing. There were times better than this, where he didn’t have to subsist on scraps of her being, but instead was one and whole with the astrologist.
‘It wasn’t anything special,’ he lied to himself all the time when he was the Balladeer. He was a fool to not notice that tea once brewed light and kept sweet with added sugars and mint leaves, with every visit, turned into something more his palate. First it was the leaves, then the sugars, and then finally she’d begun to let the tea brew longer before insisting he try it.
It was something of a routine, that in little things she tried to learn of him in bits and pieces. That was all that was left of him at the time, any how, because his Mona… no, Ms. Megistus, was too observant and clever to have not learnt more about him. It was in the way she stopped offering desserts after his tea no longer tasted sweet, and instead begun to offer breads, and savory snacks. These little morsels of her day-to-day life outside of his visits to her quaint house in the city, the undeniable proof in the offering that confessed the secret of secrets between them two.
’I think about you. I think about you all the time, I must know more,’ was what it said. Is that not the highest compliment when tied up with an academic? That he felt less like an experiment and more like a wonder of nature she felt blessed to have visit… The astrologist truly did speak with her eyes as he did to her. How many secrets between them have gone unsaid, spoken with the soul when the other closed their eyes for one reason or another? He felt nauseous. Yet still, he stomached the feeling and swallowed his food back down, because he was not human enough to succumb to that, not human enough to deserve to feel sick at the thought of feeling so deeply, just human enough to believe he was above being a fool. To believe you aren’t a fool, to reinforce it actively, is to truly be one. It is the height of a pitiful line of thinking.
He pushed forward, as these slopes tended to be numerous and just steep enough to make his knees squeak and creak. Human enough. It is not as if he never thought of her during his last months as a harbinger. There was a promise, deep down, that he would return. That goodbye was simply a prerequisite to forever, and that once he’d fulfilled his purpose, he’d finally deserve the organic, seeping warmth of his cheek resting on her lap, and her bare fingers, with their manicured, maintained nails, combing through his hair and scratching his scalp. The fact that things had culminated in him sneaking glances from behind the edge of his hat while she visited Sumeru city on business was simply his fault. There had to have been some way, somehow, that he would’ve triumphed and found his way back home.
The streetlights here were of a warm, fading orange, not more than simple glass lanterns placed on the ground to assist the moon on darker days in illuminating the way. They bring to mind the candles that she used to light, lit to paint warm colors on cold, inhuman skin, to bring life to eyes otherwise dull and calculating. Not even the moon was privy to what they did, and even he would hesitate to call it love. Love, still, is not something he understands. What he does remember, to his dismay, is a yearning for eternity, one that he hasn’t shaken from his very being. He recalls, still, how he felt leaving her abode for the last time, lifting a ring to his line of sight. The gem sparkled, as if the moonlight casting itself upon it told him, ‘but I do understand,’ and said nothing more beyond that.
He pauses to stand still for a moment, to calm the erratic whirring in his ears. There was a quiet drone, though from insects or himself, he cannot tell. This train of thought was dangerous. A budding headache blooms in his temples as the intruding presence finally makes itself known.
“Why don’t you go speak to her?” He immediately recognizes Buer’s voice.
We’re nothing like that, he insists, adjusting his hat and adjusting his bangs.
“I feel inclined to disagree,” She cheerfully squeaks in his head, “I believe ‘forever,’ is still something you could achieve.”
’Forever,’ is a reality I am shackled with, Lesser Lord. The wanderer picked his name for a reason, though he may never change and will live to see those he’s come to recognize become bygone faces, he is free to roam the world, to see how it changes and evolves in contrast to him.
“‘Forever,’ the way you defined it just now,” Her voice quiets down to a murmur, and he half wonders how long she’d been chasing his running thoughts. “The ‘forever,’ that was a picture frame with the astrologist in it.”
Long gone. He insists, and banishes the archon from his mind. It matters not how much she tries to intrude again. She knows by now how he operates.
“I’m sorry Miss, the elevator is off-limits for unauthorized people,” The mahamata at the door in the center of the House of Daena declared, and Wanderer could feel the indignation radiating off the astrologist from where he was approaching.
“I promise you, I am authorized! None of you mentioned any authorizing items–”
“She’s with me,” he states, tugging her gently by the wrist into the elevator and stepping on the slate to go upwards. The man standing guard simply stepped to the side at the sight of him.
Time felt slow, the mere few seconds he’d grabbed ahold of her, the closest he’s been to the mage since he said ‘goodbye,’ and left her wailing, perhaps that was eternity. With great hesitation, he let go of her wrist after tugging her to his side. “Watch your step, we’re trying to go up, not down.”
Ah, a meek gasp leaves her as she finally meets his face. This lift is a long one comparably to most, it did not help that she seemed to have this power to make what was already still an endless lifetime of moments ahead of him, to precious, human seconds. Her eyes seemed to scan him as she collects her slack jawed mouth back to the composed pout she often wore. What’s so surprising about him?
It couldn’t have been a look of recognition, the Wanderer believes that if it were, she’d have already spoken by now. He finds himself hoping, with the naïve heart of a teenage boy’s first love, that it was recognition. That if he met her gaze for long enough, he’d begin to peer into her soul as they once mutually did for finite, sleepless nights.
Such hopes were quickly dashed when she coughed an apology into her fist, and turned her glances to the intricate patterns on the ground below them. He didn’t know whether to be thankful or annoyed that around her, time was slow, because humans often spoke of this quality to a life well-lived. That it was in the little things, well-savored and warm. Time was slow, yet still it flew by these mortals.
As they’d reached the top, blue scattered light reflected off every surface the eye could see. For an office so few could see in person, it was certainly one of the most beautiful he’d been to, and he could see that Megistus agrees. Awe was something that reverberates itself through the human body.
He stepped off the platform, offering his hand for her to take. She seemed to consider it for a moment, before she took it and cast her eyes downward to where her steps landed. Warmth, through her gloves… Buer, is this your blessing?
The mage took the steps towards the bookshelves, further from the center of the room. Squinting, she came to understand that it was this elaborate structure just above them casting the magical view to enjoy, filtering the sunlight through glass and such magnificent celestial blues that aided in decorating the place more than the carpets and architecture already did.
“Pretty, isn’t it?” He hums, following her pace up the stairs.
“It’s enchanting,” she whispers. What grace the gods have given him, to share this new secret with her.
“I must apologize for the mistake, earlier,” he breaks her awed silence to draw her attention, “I supposed that the man giving you the news would be more competent about the invitation.”
“It’s more than alright. I didn’t anticipate I would be escorted up,” Mona replies.
“Yes, well, that wasn’t the intention,” he grumbles, beckoning her to follow him to the desk nearby. “The Acting Grand Sage isn’t in his office today, so the Dendro Archon wanted to warn you about her concerns here.”
“Thank you, Hat Guy!” Nahida calls from her seat upon the Grand Sage’s chair with a bright smile. The little archon was barely visible, and she knew that, because she soon got up to meet the two of them halfway. He winced at the name, a faint pink dusting his cheeks as Mona stifled a giggle.
“It’s an honor, Lesser Lord Kusanali,” Mona offers with as much grace as she could muster.
“The pleasure’s all mine, Ms. Megistus,” She beams, “I’m so glad you accepted my invitation.”
It was somewhat comical to watch the astrologist look downwards to speak to the archon. Though, for some reason, it made a part of him ache. He began to tune out what other pleasantries they exchanged, keeping his silence, simply letting the sound of Mona’s voice fall on homesick ears in a quiet, vast room, where it echoes and he may hear it again and again, should he pick it out.
“…And due to these dangerous letters threatening our esteemed guest, should you wish to venture outside of Sumeru City, I would prefer you did so with the Wanderer, here.”
What.
What? Did the Dendro Archon herself just… assign him as a glorified body guard?
“Oh, no,” Mona began to differ, “I appreciate the concern, Miss Nahida, but I couldn’t possibly impose more. I assure you, I’m capable of defending myself.”
Somehow, that being her immediate response stung. It wasn’t unexpected, he remembers back on Musk Reef where he stayed back to watch her make quick work of his then-subordinates. Megistus was capable, he would be blind not to know at least that much.
“Take it as a token of hospitality,” Nahida lifted a hand to her own chest, using her most sincere tone. “Here in Sumeru, as you were invited here by me personally, I believe it my responsibility to guarantee your safety. I find it’s better two capable combatants than one, yes?”
He glanced proper at the astrologist once Buer asked her rhetorical question, and though her face was trained in a strained smile, her fingers twitched with the urge to resist further. Still, she recognized the tone that the archon was using, as well as he did, and relented, giving a polite nod to her.
“I suppose you’re right,” was as close as you could get to Mona Megistus metaphorically waving a white flag.
Buer. What are you doing?
At dusk, he met her at the northwest exist of Sumeru City. As per Buer’s request, he kept himself at her side. Though, it was as clear to him as the stars were to the astrologist, that this was simply Buer’s elaborate plan to shackle him into atoning for his wrongdoings.
He thought he’d explained that the best way to atone when it came to Ms. Megistus, was to not tangle himself with her ever again. Frankly, he was a burden upon who is clearly an underspoken gem, for like the moon, she reflects the brightness of those around her, casting those in her perimeter in moonlight so gentle, you simply can’t help but find fondness in her words and mannerisms. She’s not the kind of person you immediately notice upon first meeting, but she truly leaves an impression.
Not much has changed as when they’d made it sufficiently far from the city with his guidance, she turns around and began to protest.
“I think I can handle myself from here.”
“What about what Buer said?”
“I respect the Dendro Archon, I really do, but I’m sure I can handle some Sumeru wildnerness just as fine as the Mondstadt one.”
“I doubt that,” he smirks, “Isn’t the first rule of wilderness not travelling alone?”
Mona sputters indignantly, before clearing her throat. “That’s a common misconception!”
“Are you really going to dispute the Goddess of Wisdom’s advice?” He teases, crossing his arms as her brows twitch with restrained fury. There’s no doubt about it, this was simply a ruse on the archon’s part. She’d damn him herself if he let it go to waste without atleast having his own fun in the matter. “Besides, I know this wilderness better than you do. I don’t suppose you could trust me for a moment to show you the stars?”
She opens her mouth to retort, before pausing as a brilliant pink flushed her cheeks. It’s the most beautiful thing he’s seen since her, and her unexpected visit to where he resides now. “Don’t be filthy,” she chastises as he lets out a free-spirited chuckle, “You can’t know the stars better than an astrologist.”
Oh, really? He takes that as a challenge, leaning closer. “Why don’t we test that theory? You stargazers always have your heads up in nebulae, someone needs to keep you here, down on the ground.”
She scoffs, flicking her wrist dismissively at him before adjusting her satchel. “Fine! Let’s see if you’re all talk, Hat Guy.”
Urgh. He scowls at the nickname, “Wanderer. It’s the Wanderer.”
“I’m not calling you that.”
“Why not?”
“It’s not a name!” It’s stupid, he guesses she wanted to say.
He rolls his eyes at her outburst, “Perhaps I’ll let you pick something more appropriate, then, if you cooperate for tonight?” he sarcastically offers.
“Out with it, where exactly are we going?”
“Hmm, here I thought you could handle yourself,” he drawls, then Mona elbows him in the side as he let out a strangled yelp. “Alright, I get it!”
He clicks his tongue in annoyance, though he’s fighting a fond smile. This all reeks of old times, and even now he’s not quite sure he’s deserving of her presence. He leans down closer to her, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Where we’re going, mythical familiars of the Dendro Archon roam just out of sight. It’s said only those with childlike wonder in their hearts can see them.”
Mona went quiet for a moment, seriously considering it, before she straightened herself with a scoff. “So now we’re talking fairytales and local myth?”
“I can’t promise you can see them, Megistus, but I can promise it’s beautiful.”
“How far is it anyway?” She deflects, and some nagging voice that never left him thinks it’s something to do with the flush on her cheeks, and the way he’d lowered his voice so not even the critters around them could hear.
“Anywhere from a few minutes, to a few hours,” he hums, tapping his chin. She raises an unimpressed brow at him, which he responds to with a snicker. “The few minutes option asks too much of you, I doubt someone like the Great Astrologist Mona Megistus could handle it.”
“Ha! Try me.”
“You sure?”
“What, are you?”
“Not entirely. I mean, have you ever flown before?” He shrugs, quickening his pace. He calls back to her, “Not many people can say they can!”
“Hey, wait!” She jogs after him, speed-walking to keep up. “What exactly are you suggesting? Humans can’t–”
At the pace she was going, in the heels she wore, she was bound to misstep. It wasn’t some grand threat, but when she tripped, he seemed to catch her on reflex.
“Maybe not humans,” he murmurs, tapping his anemo vision, which at current, glows shyly. “I can, though.”
He sets her back on her feet, pulling back to cross his arms as he lets her process the offer.
“So you’ll.. carry me?” She speaks slowly, in disbelief and embarrassment she let herself trip like that.
“It’d be safer than that stunt you just pulled,” he’d meant it as a deflection, but a real smile bloomed on his face. “Take my offer, and you get to catch quite a few constellations before they set.”
A beat of silence followed, then two, which began to make him anxious. Luckily, he didn’t take his eyes off her, so he didn’t miss the shy nod she offered, with a scrunched nose, furrowed brows and an angry pout.
“I won’t drop you,” Wanderer taunts, settling a hand on her back and another behind her knees.
“That’s not reassuring—” Her sentence was cut off with a surprised squeak as she threw her arms around his neck for support while he adjusted his grip.
This was painfully familiar. She felt the same in his arms as ever, and he would’ve given himself more time to think about it had she not looked at him expectantly.
“Don’t look at me like that. You’ll like the wind.”
He didn’t give her another moment to ponder it, as it was then his hat formed a luminous halo of anemo behind him, and he lifted them both off the ground.
Wanderer wasn’t exactly lying, earlier. He did plan to take her to the outskirts of Vanarana, but he seldom expected that she’d actually accept his offer. Wind ruffled his hair as he hugged her close to his chest, and the hand of hers not around his neck had an iron grip on keeping her hat on her head.
Her eyes were shut tight, and who can blame her? The wind hugging you so closely must be frightening at first. He had his own ‘new’ sensations to indulge in. She’s as warm as ever, especially in the cold early-night air, but where she once smelled like home, something uniquely theirs, she once again smells like cecilias. Those resilient flowers atop the cliff in Mondstadt she oft enjoyed to visit. It was strange, that erasing everything he was came down even to the scents he left on her life.
“I won’t bite if you open your eyes, Megistus.”
“I’m not scared! It’s just… so…”
He slows his pace down a little to allow her to adjust. “What’s there to be afraid of? Look, you’re flying.”
It might just be the cutest thing he’d ever seen her do, as she peeked an eye open. First to glance at him, and then down. Where her arm around him pulled her closer to him. “Oh, stars, I’m flying…”
“Does it feel like I’ll drop you?” He prompts, admiring the pretty pink flush, now not only on her cheeks, but blooming on her lips as she bit them here and there.
“No,” She manages in a meek whisper, as her voice went so quiet it’s a wonder he could still hear her speak, “I’m still afraid.”
Wanderer half-wonders if this was caused by that incident she recounted once, with the constellation and the wind… Perhaps?
“Then hold on, I’ll make it short,” That was a promise.
He set her down on the ground, and her hands fisted in the back panel of his clothes, holding on for anything that would keep her upright. I’ve got you, he wanted to say, but the words choked on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he let her hold on to him. A few more moments, and then her grip loosened as she’d finally regained her balance.
Purple flowers littered the ground beneath her, being the first thing she noticed. Sumeru roses, he mentally amends. He follows her awed gaze to the big leaves characteristic of Vanarana, and takes a step back to sit down and gaze up at the sky.
The grass next to him rustled as she follows, her hat settled ontop his on the grass, and a comfortable silence settles between them. Time seems to pass him by with the quiet rustle of grass, the wind singing a song just for them, and the shuffling of scrolls and star charts.
In the year since his goodbye, he finds himself searching for any crumb of her existence in his life. Few and far between, as he no longer exists in hers, but the one reprieve he finds in such a dark abyss are the very stars themselves. Often, he wonders what about them inspires reverence, and he didn’t understand what drew his astrologist to them in the first place.
Is it that in a past life, they’ve already done all of this? Maybe she looks at the stars, and in some deep recess of herself, they remind her of him, the same way he thinks of her, of her dark hair adorned in those very same stars she loves. This scientist, of her method and her wit, despite the sky she so reveres being false, continues to build her tower of truth and ignorance.
“What are you doing?” He leans over to whisper, squinting at her star chart.
“Something was amiss this week,” She folds up the chart in hand and ruffles through her satchel for another. “I tend to think better under the stars, and I’m trying to understand what exactly it is I’m suspecting.”
This week? That traitorous warmth blooms in and around his chest again, and he thanks the moon for the night being dark. It’s difficult to squash his hopes entirely, it’s harder when the girl he loves dearly seems drawn to him in spite of fate itself. It’s selfish, isn’t it? That now that he lives a lonely existence, a place by his side he carved out solely for her to take, he hopes all logic could never apply to them.
He’d never been one for destiny. It’s never been kind to him thus far, but perhaps he’d never considered the kindnesses that fate has offered. Often, she denied him advice when she scried his fate, until one day, her scry glass dissipated, and she cupped his hands in hers. The words she said sounded preposterous at the time, though now he regrets not committing them to memory. It’s a bright glimmer of hope in the back of his mind, the disloyal belief that ever since that day, their fate has been closely intertwined.
Her scryglass snaps him out of his thoughts, a soft blue illuminating the immediate area around them. “What constellation is that?” He asks over her shoulder.
“…An annoying one,” She grumbles after a while, clearly frustrated with how she keeps tapping at the water, and adjusting the runes. “I don’t have memories of Peregrinus before a year ago, despite my records begging otherwise.”
Peregrinus… That’s his constellation. He bothered to learn from the meek Rtawahist student that competed in the Interdarshan Championship. “Is that so? What’s so frustrating about it?”
He’s so close he can smell her again, hints of Cecilias through Sumeru rose. Surrounded by Sumeru roses, he wonders if she feels homesick here. The cecilias he could smell reminded him of Starsnatch Cliff, her guiding him home, of Mondstadt, tea she took sweet in contrast to his bitter, of the almost affectionately friendly philanemo mushrooms paving the way to something he’d dare call bigger than himself.
“It’s fresh, to me, even if it’s not meant to be. Often, these days, when I have a gut feeling I can’t explain, I turn to this constellation,” The whirring in his chest pauses to listen. “It leaves me empty handed.”
He’s close enough that his hand itches to hold hers. To say he feels guilty would be to write in a children’s book and put it simply. It was more accurate to say he felt like a monster. Something that lives long, eternally and in the shadows, a living warning to the people to behave. Mona didn’t heed that warning, and he soon found himself the antithesis to ‘cold,’ and ‘unfeeling’. The wind howled with his melancholia.
“Is there a goal you chase, Ms. Megistus?”
“You may call me Mona,” She reflexively answers, turning her gaze to the stars for a moment. “To being an astrologist, you mean?”
He nodded, and she continues. “It makes little sense to most, far too abstract and grand to be easily comprehensible.”
“Try me.”
“The truth of this world,” She states simply. It’s with a smug smirk, one that gives a different rhythm to the whirring in his chest. “That’s four questions to none, Hat guy.”
He scoffs, she really never changes, down to the irritating insistence. “What, you’d rather the silence?” he accuses.
“I think I get to ask now,” She poked his shoulder playfully. “Though I hope it’s not too strange.”
The wind that howled with his words only softened when she parted her lips. If he were nature, he too, would drop everything to listen to every syllable that was formed by her tongue.
“Earlier,” Mona spoke slowly, forming her words gently. “You said, ‘maybe not humans,’ but you can.”
“It’s cute that you’re saving my words to memory.”
“Only the interesting ones!” She retorts, huffing. “What did that mean?”
His eyes scanned her as hers did him, letting her question hover in the air uncomfortably. The wanderer expected her to pick up on it, no-one more clever or curious than his astrologist. “Are you asking if I’m not human?”
“Is that what you meant?”
He offers his hand for her to take, as if the feel of it would be proof enough. “You tell me.”
“I don’t want to be wrong,” she does, holding it in both her hands. Her thumbs carressed along the sides of his hand, and then her pointer and thumb came to pinch and poke at the skin.
“You feel lifelike. Strange, yet lifelike,” She pulls his now-warm hand up to her cheek, resting her eyes. He’s afraid to think, to put words to it, maybe if he does, he’ll wake up.
“What’s your verdict?”
A long while of silence follows her nuzzling into his palm. “No. You’re not,” She whispers, almost afraid to offend him. “You’re so alive, though.”
What’s cold will seep warmth into itself, and what is warm, will invite the cold inside. It’s a delicate balance that he watches her relish in. He fights the blush rushing through his cheeks, painting his ears. It makes his anemo vision shimmer, it paints the dormant tattooos on him a brilliant cyan.
Sensing the light from him, Mona pulls back to see, beaming. “I didn’t get to mention it earlier, either, it’s amazing.”
Wanderer grumbled, avoiding her eyes. His hand that wasn’t held captive came to pull his clothes over his chest. “Don’t…”
“You’re ethereal,” she murmurs, letting his fingertips linger on hers as she lets go.
He mumbles a quiet thank you, trying his best to maintain his emotions. It did not help that she ended up resting her head on his shoulder. Not at all.
Mona was almost half asleep in his arms as he flew them back to Sumeru City. There’s this almost dreamy quality to the far-off fog that had her pointing at the beautiful sights. The Wanderer’s grip is tight on his astrologist, more than it was earlier, as now she didn’t feel as terrified of the height they’re at.
He lands them at the Akademiya, and she took his hand like it’s muscle memory. It makes him pause and turn to her with a question in his eyes, that she only answers with a bright smile.
Is this as close as he gets to recognition? His very being feels as alive as she said it was. Wanderer huffs and pulls her along to the Akademiya’s accommodations. When his pace slows, she loops her arm through and links it with his, and her head comes to rest lazily on his shoulder.
To get to the accommodations, you must navigate through the Razan Garden. Past a side exit of the Akademiya, and up slopes that had her leaning on him for balance and support (excuses), and right by a pond.
She lifts her head and gestures to the lotuses on it. Shades of white, pink, and as a testament to her luck, blue. He chuckles, and she turns to him at the sound.
“What’s so funny?” Mona pouts.
“It’s not funny, it reminds me of something,” They pull closer to the pond, as he leans down to admire the rare color. “Some of Sumeru’s best poetry is written for this very flower.”
“Really?” Once offered a tidbit of information, her pupils dilate like that of a cat’s, intent and listening.
“Poets wrote of it in the name of yearning,” He pulls back to stand straight, focusing his gaze on her. “It was named after the Goddess of Flowers herself, after all. If you’ve heard of her story, then it starts to paint a beautiful picture.”
By the time he had turned his attention back to her, he finds she’s already intertwined their fingers and leaned closer, blinking her wide eyes at him. “Right, the Goddess of Flowers…”
His cheeks were so pink. The wanderer could swear she could hear the whirring coming from his chest, and he prayed to any god that will listen she chooses not to embarrass him about it. He clears his throat, and continues to speak.
“It’s commonly believed that her death was the one that left behind the most yearning for a Goddess in Sumeru’s history,” He spoke to fill the expectant silence. “It’s precious to the people, a rich part of the culture.”
He guides her past the pond, and she lets him. Fireflies danced around them, as if celebrating that their friend is no longer as lonely. It was so late, most students that stayed up to study had already found their way back to their beds. It felt like a dream, one for just the two of them.
Let the stars be witness to this, it is the one thing of him he wishes this world will commit to memory, with his interference or not. It’s not everyday he gets a chance to put fate to the test, and it is not everyday it is benevolent to him. In times like these, he holds his usually-sharp tongue.
Reaching the door to where she’s staying feels like waking up. Cold, uncomfortable, and unsure if you’re ready to face this day, or any day that follows. While he was lost in his thoughts, she turned around to face him, tugging on his hand.
“Thank you,” She whispers. “For showing me the stars, here in Sumeru.”
He couldn’t trust his words. Anything he could muster would be contorted into something far too harsh for this moment. He simply nods, as she takes another step closer.
If someone had told him at the beginning of this week that his astrologist would be this close to him, he’d have told Buer to use her own body.
He finds, now, that she’s leveraging the hand on his shoulder to pull him down. Mona, Mona Megistus, in her cute golden heels, was rising just that bit further to her tippy toes to lock her lips with his, it feels so sudden.
But he’s already awake. This wasn’t a dream, he’d woken up just before she’d done that.
Her lips leave his with a sound so quiet, he’s still doubtful it happened. Warmth was all he’d known for these past few hours, he’s grieving the end of it.
“Are you free anytime soon, Wanderer?” Mona interrupts his shock with a shy question that was sure to make it worse.
He blinks it out of his system, though he hopes it’s still in the air so he may bask in it after she leaves for the night. “I’ll…” Words are failing him, but the least he could do was dignify her with a response. His fingers come to fidget with a ring of his, antsily twisting it back and forth.
“I’ll see about it,” he mumbles. He offers her a hasty peck on the cheek, and watches with joy in his ‘heart’ as she beams at him, her hand over the trace of his lips.
“Good night, then. I hope fate has more in store for us two.”
She steps inside of the dormitory, and the door shuts behind her, as quiet as the rest of the night is. For someone that isn’t meant to let hope engulf him, it was hard not to. For it was in the air, in the people around them, and most traitorously, in his own, selfish, chest, alive with as much beating and whirring as, it seems, she’s come to recognize him with.