Chapter Text
Albedo is… an interesting individual. Aether isn't sure what he was expecting.
"If I'm not mistaken, you must be the Honorary Knight. You have the whole of Mondstadt talking." Albedo peers at Aether, hand on his chin. "I've heard a bit of everything: your actions during Stormterror's attack, your elemental control, and quite a few other mysterious things… I'll skip to the conclusion. There's only one possibility, after all. You came from afar—from another world. Correct?"
Aether blinks. He supposes that, of all things, that is one thing he doesn't feel the need to hide. "That's correct."
Albedo nods. "Excellent. If I could procure your assistance, I think my research would benefit enormously."
"Research?" Aether asks. "What… kind of research?"
Albedo explains, and Aether listens. Paimon glances at him worriedly a few times, but… part of Aether is curious, too, at what Albedo might find. In Aether's experience, his body adapts to the world and becomes indistinguishable from the other residents, barring particular abilities. Still, after waking up with his power greatly reduced, he wonders.
"Uh... Maybe we should just get outta here, Aether?" Paimon asks. "This sounds a little freaky."
Aether hums. "What's in it for me?"
"Mora, knowledge. Possibly, answers to the questions you are seeking. How does that sound?"
Aether raises an eyebrow. "And what do you think I'm seeking?"
"The secrets of this world, perhaps. Or what your place is in this world?"
Well, he supposes he's curious what Albedo's answers to those questions would be.
"Alright," Aether says. "Lead the way."
When Aether battles the slimes, he can feel Albedo's eyes on him. There are more foes than he expected, but it's easy enough to be rid of them all.
Still, the first thing Albedo says is, "You were holding back."
Aether raises an eyebrow. "Would you go all out on some slimes?"
"Hmm." Albedo puts a hand on his chin. "You are clearly well-practiced, and you are used to fighting like this. The manifestation of the external elemental flow is as expected, elemental reactions are normal. There's nothing out of the ordinary. Still… are there otherworldly abilities you are accustomed to using as well?"
Aether shrugs. "This is the limit of this body. I'd expect that I'm a perfectly normal human."
"I see. Interesting." Albedo peers at him once more. "Now that we know that the external flow is manifesting normally, let's test the internal flow."
Aether is a bit dubious about the concoction, but… considering that Albedo drank it first, should be fine, right? He downs it, and almost immediately he starts to feel a burning inside him.
"Tasty? You've got a funny look on your face, Aether!"
"It… burns," Aether says. He closes his eyes. "Nauseous…"
Paimon twirls to Albedo. "You said you tried some already! You sure it was ready? What happened to him?"
"Hmm? Oh, this was the result I was expecting, and a very positive one at that." Albedo touches his chin. "Though perhaps more intense than anticipated? Perhaps the elemental energies within you are even stronger. Could this be related to how you use elements without a Vision…?"
Aether groans.
"Ah… please, come sit. It should pass soon." A gentle grip directs him to sit down on a nearby chair, and Aether sits down with his head in his hands until the feeling fades away. Paimon and Albedo continue talking, though Aether doesn't pay them attention.
Once Aether is recovered, Albedo presents his conclusion: "As far as elemental energy is concerned, you're not significantly different from anyone else in this world. Some individuals with stronger affinities might produce the same results, even. As far as we're concerned, you are a perfectly normal human, as you are now."
Which is nice to hear. Aether's glad his misery has enhanced Albedo's enlightenment, and that there's nothing too abnormal with much of his power being sealed away.
There continue to be more experiments. Aether needs to cook some food and solve a puzzle. Rosaria is there but she leaves afterwards, and then…
"This last experiment may be more difficult," Albedo says, "But I feel it may provide considerable insight. I would like you to make the trek across Dragonspine, from one side to another. Use whatever methods seem most natural to you. Paimon and I will follow closely behind."
"Wha—wait, I'm not going with Aether? He can't use the teleport waypoints without me, though…"
Albedo lifts an eyebrow. "Is that so? Interesting. I suppose it makes sense, as only those with Visions can access them, and only ones we've already visited, to boot. Regardless, this may be for the best, if your 'most natural way' would have just been to teleport across. Understandable, but not very interesting."
Paimon frowns. "Dragonspine is really dangerous, though! There are monsters and it's freezing… and so big! What if Aether gets lost or hurt?"
"We'll be nearby just in case," Albedo says. "I have my alchemical tricks, so you don't need to worry about me keeping up. I have my share of emergency supplies as well."
"Hmnn…" Paimon looks at Aether. "I don't know if this is a good idea…"
Aether frowns. "If it gets too dangerous, you'll pull me out?"
Albedo nods. "Some injury may be unavoidable, and I may not step in if you seem to have a handle on things. If your life is in immediate danger, however, I will act."
"And you really think it would help in your research?"
"Yes, considerably."
You're too trusting, Aether, comes a voice in the back of his head that sounds like Lumine. Always trying to help others.
Aether ignores it. "Okay," he says. "Let's do it."
In the end, it's not the snowstorm that does him in or the Lawachurl he fights in the midst of it, though it's so cold that Aether thought he might just die from exposure.
It's the avalanche that falls upon him and his opponent, burying him in who knows how much snow. He loses consciousness, and when he wakes, his first thought is: are Albedo and Paimon alright? His second thought is: how long has it been?
It was 15 minutes, wasn't it? He learned that in another world. He's so cold, and he's tired and injured from the fight. He can't move, and trying to pull on the power of Anemo proves fruitless. Time ticks by, and he can only feel the slowing of his heart, the gradual feeling of derealization that comes with a slow death like this. The world seems to grow more and more distant.
What if they don't find him? Or worse, what if they find him and then—
He needs to get out. They might see, but—still. Ah, Albedo should know his way around the mountain, right? Aether wonders if he can—he can, and as he tugs on his power, he feels himself shift.
Albedo feels cold. Some part of his mind registers that the coldness seems to remain from one shift to another—it would not, at Aether's full power—but there is no time for that. The power of Geo answers to him, and with a burst of yellow light, he emerges into daylight. He takes in a shuddering breath of biting, icy air, pulling himself to somewhere more stable before collapsing in the snow.
His body is weak, too weak. It's the first time, isn't it? He needs to consume something, but he can't—move. He feels sleepy.
He hears something, and manages to lift up his head to see the true Albedo standing in front of him, a wary look on his face. Paimon is nowhere to be seen—was she looking for him elsewhere?
Albedo's hand is on the hilt of his sword. Ah, of course. Now that he knows…
"It was unexpected that you would live," Albedo says. "Or rather, revive? I presume you'd wish to take my place one day."
"Wh… what?"
Albedo draws his sword and kneels in front of him, bringing the edge to Aether-Albedo's neck. "What are your plans?" His voice is soft in volume but sharp in delivery. "I won't let you become 'me.'"
"That… is not my intention…" His head aches. Part of him feels like he should know what he's talking about, but the awareness evades him. The part of him that is Aether, however is struck by a bitter, bitter, feeling. Betrayal, disappointment, a form of grief for the friendship he thought was growing. "You sent him out to die…?"
A look of confusion crosses Albedo's face, but his expression hardens once more. "The Traveler. What have you done with him?"
"I…" 'Albedo' closes his eyes. "I am…" He drops the shift, and Albedo jumps back in alarm as Aether becomes himself again—as much of himself as he can, that is.
He's suddenly shoved to his back, Albedo's sword at his throat. "Enough of your tricks. First me, now him?"
Aether doesn't know what to say. If he can say anything. It's so cold, so cold that it's seeped into his bones and he can't help but shake, can't help the burning in his eyes that makes everything blurry as his tears freeze on his face. He's going to die. He's going to die, whether from hypothermia or from Albedo's blade in his neck, and he doesn't know what will happen after that.
"Albedo, what are you doing?" comes a screech. Paimon.
She flies in and tries to push Albedo away to no avail. The alchemist is still staring intensely at Aether.
"Get off, get off of him—"
"Paimon," Albedo says, "can you state with absolute certainty that this is Aether?"
"Huh? Oh… oh, did you see…?"
"Moments ago, this being was in my shape."
A long pause. "Yeah, it's Aether. He can… shift. And there's no one else in the world, except his sister probably, that carries the stars with them. It's him."
"I see." Albedo pulls back his blade. "I hope you have the heart to forgive me. It seems I… made a severe miscalculation. Let's regroup at camp."
"Fine. But if you try anything, you'll be toast!" Paimon flies to Aether and takes his hand. "You're so cold… it'll be okay, now, okay?"
Aether nods as best he can. As the feeling of teleportation overtakes him, his consciousness starts to fade.
There's a brief spark of panic—he can't die, not like this—and as the last threads of his consciousness unwind, he becomes another.