Chapter Text
Grief is a thing of peculiarity.
One grieves death. The other grieves a love lost to the heart of another. Some grieve the bet they’ve lost and the taxing burden to their finances coming with it. Each of those blooms into a plethora of feelings, so unlike one another, yet they’re still meticulously, relentlessly described with the very same overused word. Grief.
However Yun Jin racked her brain for the tiniest inkling of a fresh idea, she couldn’t help but stubbornly gravitate towards the very term. How else could she describe a man crumpled up in her arms like a child yearning for the mother’s embrace while hardships untied from the confines of his heart towards the unforgiving world in the form of heavy tears?
It was the most apt and the most lacking of words. Grief was the piercing sound of his wails as he trembled all over. Grief was the river of their mixed tears drawn from the depths of the times they’d both rather forget. Grief was the forgiveness she displayed over the frigid coldness of a heartbreak he’d given her by disappearing. Grief was the truth and in kind to all stories of war, it was laced with darkness no human should ever experience in their lifetime.
Yun Jin didn’t know how much time had passed when the skin of her cheeks marked with dried streams gave her an itch and his sobs transitioned into shivers. It’s truly wondrous how easily people seek solace in the plain forms of physical touch when the pain of emotions overwrites their reason. Previously acting so indifferently towards each other, now she found herself stroking his back in a soothing motion while his eyes had no more water left to give away.
Her first sane thought led her gaze to land on the letter torn in half, placed neatly on the coffee table. Aether would have to talk to Lumine. Hopefully, the brunt of the blow on his sanity was taken by baring his all to Yun Jin and he would be able to spare his sister from seeing him fall apart.
Yes, he would have to come clean to ease her hurt as well. And to Xiao.
Later. Not yet.
For now, she remained unmoving, his pillar of stability when the walls of his fortress came crumbling down.
***
“You’ll catch a cold if you sleep here.”
Silence was the only answer.
A sigh followed. Not out of annoyance - it grew from a place of concern. “I’d be more than happy to carry you inside, however—“
”No. You can go back first.” Her voice was raspy, salted generously by the tears she’d let out into the night. Contrary to the unwavering assurance of her tone, she shivered like a leaf on the autumn wind, barely holding onto the tree branch by a withered stem. “I’ll be fine.”
Xiao weighed his options. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t hoist her up to get her inside the house - he had no idea of the condition his stitches were in, but his concurrent weak constitution wasn’t the most reassuring for him to trust his own strength.
There was no use pushing, though - he burdened her with a lot in the fragile state of hers and he began to fear that excessive physical activity would cut her consciousness from reality. He anguished silently over his own lack of thoughtfulness - he should have insisted they came inside the house before disclosing the details of his and her brother’s meeting.
Plain facts wouldn’t probably do much to stir her as she was now - the truth of ongoing symptoms of her concussion weren’t registering at all. Xiao slowly climbed to his feet, the ground swaying slightly underneath him - he, too, was receiving the aftermath of the prolonged exhaustion coupled with the injuries. Still, to leave her out like this wouldn’t be right…
No. It wasn’t the matter of righteousness, he realised. He felt something inside of him cracking at the thought of Lumine of all people sitting alone on the porch through the night. He wouldn’t stand for it.
Lumine was a second too late to hide a flash of surprise upon Xiao’s return, his hands busy unfolding a quilted blanket to then drape it over her shoulders. He attempted to bring his body down onto the porch step again without plopping down like a bag of heavy rice, but was stopped by a bewildered outcry,
”Wait!” Lumine scrambled to her feet, perhaps a bit too fast as she let go of the hem of the blanket and steadied herself by grabbing onto the reeling. “You don’t mean to tell me that you plan on staying here with me?”
”Of course I am.” He had no need of coming up with excuses. She gave him a look of reddened, puffy eyes and with the utmost surprise he noticed a twitch in the corner of her mouth - looking almost like a harbinger of a small smile, quickly suppressed by the demons leeching on her heart.
”You’ve convinced me. I’ll come inside to sleep.”
”It wasn’t my intention to convince you now.”
Lumine nodded as if answering something she inquired herself. “I’m aware. But you’ve barely slept since coming back. You need to rest a lot to recover. I can’t bear the guilt of having you tend to me at night on the porch of all places.”
Said as though she hadn’t sustained injuries herself. Xiao repressed the strong need to shake his head.
He watched Lumine secure the thick blanket around her shivering body and take a step towards the door. Snapping out of the strange daze, he quickly followed to be able to catch her should her legs fail.
”Lumine?” He called out quietly while walking half a step behind her. She stopped abruptly, having reached the door of her bedroom, and turned towards him. Xiao was about to say more, yet his jaw snapped shut after regarding her. Of course. Anguish wouldn’t be laid to rest as easily. And it turned out her eyes had more tears to emphasise that.
“I’m scared, Xiao.” She admitted meekly, her head downcast. “I’m scared of learning what happened after Aether had left. I know I have to find out, but at the same time I’m overcome with an urge to cover my ears and scream ‘la, la, la’ like a little child chasing away non-existing ghosts. Does that—“ She hiccupped helplessly, her body forcing the notion that the crying had gone on for too long. “Does that make me a bad person? He had to live through something traumatising and here I am, wishing to succumb to my cowardly desire to run away. Am I detestable?”
How could she, of everyone marking this earth with their lives, ask that? The very person who chose to traverse into the unknown, facing rejection at the very get-go, just to give voice to those hurting in silence? How could she, the kindest of hearts he’d come to know in this wretched, wicked world, doubt herself for even a moment?
Xiao was reminded of all the times - little and big - when the mere touch of her warm skin perished the shadows gnawing at his dreams and existence. Wishing to convey even a fraction of the comfort she’d bestowed on him thus far, he laced his fingers with hers, while the other palm covered their joined hands in a secure grasp. “No. You’re not detestable. It doesn’t make you a bad person. It just makes you human.”
***
The nights became unbearably hot in the embrace of July. It. Must’ve happened gradually, yet she never noticed. And those warm star-sprinkled nights gave way to the melting mornings and scorching days.
Lumine’s head was pounding when she slowly broke through the daze of sleep. As the sandman blew the last grains of sand from her eyelids, he subconsciously noted the bright yellow hues of the sun filtering through the window. Perhaps it was getting closer to noon rather than early hours.
A whole stretch of dessert settled inside of her mouth, every part of her being desperately calling out for water. Then came the unpleasantness of the fabric sticking to her body. Maybe that’s why she felt so parched - all of her body’s hydration was wasted in the buckets of sweat pouring out of every inch of her skin. She pried the drenched cotton shirt away, belatedly realising she’d fallen asleep in her outdoor clothing.
She glanced around the room as her vision adjusted to brightness. A thick blanket laid crumpled by the foot of the bed and the sight jolted Lumine’s memory to a state of full awareness.
Right. How long had she stood in the hallway, by the door to her room, leaning on Xiao’s strength, lent to her by the touch of his hand? It could have been ten seconds, but it might as well have been hours. Ridiculous as it sounded, she could swear the warm roughness of his calloused fingers lingered faintly around her left palm. Shaken as she had been, it was likely that very strength that allowed Lumine’s to indulge in a dreamless sleep.
She had half a mind not to make any sudden movements - worsening of the symptoms caused by the concussion was the least wanted. It was easier to consider her state especially now, after long hours of much-needed rest. Next came a sane thought of a cold shower - she had been shaking like a leaf last night, yes, but that, too, faded away, leaving the heat to crawl mercilessly all over. The urge to shed every last piece of fabric from her wet skin was oh-so-tempting, but she’d be simply mortified if she were to run into Xiao on her way to the bathroom.
Thus, she opted for the safest approach - she fumbled through the portmanteau for a new set of clean clothing, picked up a fresh towel and tiptoed through the quiet house to the other side of the corridor. She couldn’t tell for sure if anyone was home - for all she knew, Xiao could be out running errands even despite his injuries and Aether hadn’t showed up before she fell asleep.
Cold water sent purifying waves of shiver down her spine and an intricate net of goosebumps. Good. She welcomed the overwhelming sensations with gratitude for them to steady the panic of her heart and the racing uneasiness of her thoughts. A cool head came as a necessity now - she was loath of a mere memory of her distasteful emotional outburst from the day before. If she were to face her brother and ask the most uncomfortable of questions, perhaps being herself wasn’t the way to go about it - maybe the other side of Lumine’s, the writer of the stories unheard, should handle the talking.
Determined she might have been, yet a glint of realism nimbly slipped into the inner conviction: Aether was still her brother. She was about to pry into the very part of his life he’d chosen to bury beneath the layers of frightening indifference; she was about to latch onto the past he’d buried even at the risk of completely severing the relationship between them, tearing it out of him. It was cruel. It was egotistical. Especially since even Lumine carried stories she would never intend to share with him.
Even if it would make her a hypocrite, it was fine. She could learn to live with it - as opposed to living without her twin brother by her side.
She stood in the dim-lit bathroom barefoot on the tiled floor, the droplets of water quietly forming a puddle beneath her. After a brief moment of hesitation, she snook a glance at the cracked mirror hanging above the old porcelain sink. Her lower lip was slightly swollen, a violet-pinkish bruise forming around the stitching. She knew it was normal in the process of healing, but now when her face was puffy and pale and the bags under her eyes were living a life of their own, she had a hard time looking at herself. How was she going to face Aether in this miserable state?
Heaving a sigh, Lumine dressed her still-damp body and gave a hearty nod to brace herself up. Then, her feet carried her to the kitchen, where she found Xiao sitting by the table.
”Good morning,” she started, somewhat bashfully. Ah, it was all because of last night. She’d never intended to allow Xiao to witness her breaking the way she did.
”Good morning. Even though it’s almost noon.”
I knew it, she thought, chastising herself for not checking the time beforehand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laze around for so long—“
”Lumine. Don’t apologise. I’m glad you slept.” Even with the weight of reproach, his voice was pleasantly gentle. Paired with the peculiar softness in his golden eyes, Lumine sensed a new feeling bubbling in the pit of her stomach. She was becoming more and more aware of her budding affection, but the sheer knowledge of it didn’t make it easier to process.
A deep breath helped her gather her wits. She wouldn’t have him notice anything abnormal about her. “What about you?”
Xiao motioned to the chair by the table across from him - only then did she take note of her body swaying. Perhaps the recuperation wasn't going at a miraculous speed after all. She was still prone to the dizzy spells. Obediently, she installed herself on the seat. “I woke up only two hours ago. I haven’t slept so many hours in… In a very long time,” he concluded after a thoughtful pause. “Probably since the time I ended up unconscious for a few days.”
The last sentence strangely startled Lumine. Xiao hardly spoke of the past, only mentioning something here and there if it were to aid some presently occurring situation – like what he’d let her learn about his and Aether’s meeting. The unexpected disclosure, a comment made in passing, built of his own volition, rang with trust he’d managed to develop towards Lumine over the weeks they spent in each other’s company. She was far from putting said trust to a trail and refrained from digging deeper – she would remain patient for the time when – if – he would give her all the pieces of himself on his own.
Not that much time was left as she thought about it. Who knows when the railway would resume normal operations along with the ships – only that unidentified amount of day lingered ahead for her to get a fill of his presence next to her before she would have to make good on her promise to return to Fontaine with Aether. Just that realisation alone cast a shadow on her mood, giving way to a gloom expression to cloud her pale face.
Xiao seemed to pick up on the change. “Are you sure you should be up and about? Maybe a few more hours of rest would do you some good?”
She waved her hand. “It’s not the fault of tiredness or the like. I think I’m getting overwhelmed by thinking too far ahead. Have you seen Aether? Has he come back?”
“No. The room he slept in last night was empty when I woke up.”
Lumine had an inkling of an idea of where he might have gone and it wouldn’t be hard to go and confront him there… Yet her own cowardice kept her tied to the spot. It’s better this way, she told herself, it’s better to wait until he’s back on his own.
And in the meantime…
“I forgot to tell you something yesterday when my emotions took the reins over my reason,” she admitted quietly.
Xiao showed a frown, his head somewhat tilted to the side. “What is it?”
“Thank you for saving my brother. I’ve got many things to be grateful for to you, but until yesterday I didn’t know my debt had started a few years ago, even before our meeting. Thank you.”
His frown deepened further, the depths of his golden eyes entrapping hers amidst the confusion. The more time they spent together, the more she began to believe he wasn’t exactly used to plain human gratitude as the experience of inhumane atrocities outbalanced the former. “You have nothing to thank me for.”
“You said something along those lines awfully often to me, you know,” she gave a brief chuckle, which appeared to add onto his unique mood. “Your refusal to accept my gratitude won’t deter me from continuing to express it. Just think about it. If it weren’t for you back then, after the flood, if you omitted scavenging the soaked battlefield in search of signs of life—” The previous small glee was all but gone from her voice. “He would’ve taken his last breath right there and then, lost as one of the other hundreds and perhaps I would’ve never found out why he wouldn’t come home, what would be the reason behind him perishing in war. You saved Aether’s life and mine in extension. I was blessed with both of my closest family coming back home to me after the tides of war turned low and you’re one of the reasons for it. Do you see the logic to my gratitude now?”
“Yet I didn’t do any of it specifically while bearing someone’s well-being and future in mind.”
“I’m aware. And I’m grateful all the same. Allow me this bit of selfishness, please.”
I don’t know, maybe I’ll never know, if there existed anyone ever condemning you for any actions you took during the time when humanity was at its lowest. But I know your kind heart and I will praise you for it for the rest of my days.
“You’re too kind,” he concluded in a whisper.
“You took the words right out of my mouth.”
The caress of the gaze of his golden eyes dawdled on her face in open bewilderment. Whatever was going through his mind at that moment, it created a complex and intricate web of emotions she was more than ready to help him untangle.
Alas, they weren’t given time for any of that.
The front door closed with a loud thud – and apparently neither of them had heard it open in the first place. Xiao didn’t even flinch, the only sign of surprise was the twitch of his lips, whereas Lumine jumped on the chair.
A second later, Aether appeared in the kitchen door’s frame. And – much to Lumine’s relief – he wouldn’t allow the silence to grow to the point of unbearable awkwardness. He shifted glances between the two of them before nodding as if to himself. “You’re both here. Good. I wanted to talk to both of you, if that's all right.”
To the utter surprise of the twins, Xiao stood up at those words and headed towards the door. He scrutinised Aether with no sign of malice as he stopped at an arm’s reach away from his old friend. Lumine observed the two of them nervously.
“Talk to your sister first.”
“But—”
“I don’t want you to hold anything back on my account,” Xiao interjected, not hearing the other man to the end. “Whether it’d be the work of a soldier’s pride or the guilt you carry for the past, she deserves to know everything. If you still find it appropriate for me to know later, you may tell me only as much as you want. Or nothing at all.”
Aether resembled a fish caught out of the water, his lips falling open and closing with a snap time and time again. Xiao’s expression didn’t change, yet he took a few seconds to tap Aether’s shoulder before leaving the house without adding another word.
Her brother might’ve been dumbstruck by the action of willingly rejecting his explanation, but Lumine understood Xiao’s behaviour on a deeper level. He bestowed a gift of privacy on them to let their emotions flow freely between them without the presence of a third party. Thus, he also gave Lumine her dignity – should she break once more, at least she wouldn’t have to do it in front of him.
It would only be her and Aether.
Lumine looked towards Aether tentatively and saw the mirror copy of her very glance. Aether’s eyes were also swollen and redden, which proposed a vague idea of tears having been shed. Her twin waved vaguely in the direction of the everyday room, located next to the kitchen.
“Come. Let’s talk.”
***
The following comes from Lumine’s private notebook – a treasure trove of stories that never reached the public.
My twin brother’s eyes – even though painfully familiar – are foreign. I’ve pondered about it time and time again ever since Aether returned home. What have those eyes witnessed to have their gloss taken off of them? What experiences have cut into him so deeply that the root of darkness chose to sojourn permanently in the depth of his gaze?
There are things I’ve never disclosed to neither Aether nor father. The only difference between myself and them is that my demons are trapped in the prison of memory and my heart stands guard to its key. I never externalise my grievances. I’ve changed, yes, but I chose to lessen the burden on my loved ones by showing them the illusion of the Lumine they used to know.
They’ve chosen the opposite. And I don’t blame them, of course. However, I’m also nothing but a human with many flaws outweighing the assets. My selfish, human nature tells me – no, it urges me to keep digging deeper until I understand the core of that change. Especially since Aether’s is significant enough to alter the way he interacts with me and treats me and those around him.
Aether was the one to decide on a conversation, which seems unbelievable now that we’re submerged in bottomless silence. Uneasiness tirelessly leads the way of his conduct. And so, I commit to the decision to be the first to break it.
“Xiao and I talked yesterday.”
“About what?”
“About the circumstances of your arrival here. I’m only privy to as much as he knows about you. Don’t hold a grudge, though. Initially, he was strictly opposed to the idea of telling me. I believe, in the end, he wanted to appease me seeing as I’ve reached my breaking point. Even a man of principle has his limits.”
“So it would seem. I’m not angry nor disappointed. All in all, he did me a favour. It leaves me with explaining only the context of my disappearance. It all takes source in the task I’ve been given before the flood occurred, before I had even left Fontaine.”
“The mole of the army?” Aether nods in response. “Did…something happen in regards to that when you’ve left the village?”
“The fifth of July never happened in the end, didn’t it? It’s because I fought against my cowardice and shed the last bits of doubts. One truth of the world I’ve learnt throughout the war is the meaning behind the words: no good deed goes unpunished.”
A shadow crosses every crease of his face. A shiver of frigid cold travels mercilessly up and down my spine. ‘Stop’, I wish to utter, ‘no more’. I’m scared. I’m terrified of what I’m about to hear, even though I’m not yet in the know of the contents of the story.
It’s one thing to gather stories of strangers, even if we grow closer as time passes. What a difference it makes when it’s my own twin brother opening the hell of his soul to me.
By now, it’s too late to take a step back. I can do nothing but listen.
“And my prize was the accusation of treason and a death sentence.”
3 years earlier
The temperature fell under the autumn chill rather than early summer morning.
Aether took a quick glance behind him, the soles of his shoes leaving deep traces in the muddy ground. He gulped loudly, the mere memory of all-consuming water drowning his reason yet again. It must’ve rained. Yes, that’s it. The traitors of their nation wouldn’t be as foolish as to use the same trick with flooding twice, would they?
Besides, it was the fourth of July. A day remained.
Unless the plans changed when he was idly hiding away in an Archon-forsaken village like a poor excuse of a soldier. Would his indolence become a reason behind condemning hundreds of innocent souls? Would he be able to live with himself then?
Would he still have the courage to look into Yun Jin’s eyes? Or Lumine’s?
An unspoken sense of relief overflew every inch of his thoughts and his being as he spotted the village looming in the distance, a faint gleam of lanterns burning after the night on the backdrop of the brightening morning sky. He still had time.
Yes, time was on his side in the end. As for any other variables…
He reached this place with no clear plan in mind. He’d spent almost half a year carefully crafting the intricate investigation, piling up reports and evidence. He’d been a hair’s breadth from succeeding, seeing as he had an appointment scheduled with the Général Suprême a week after the flood. He was supposed to go home. See his homeland. See his sister.
It was all gone. Left with nothing but own wits and deepening guilt, he was prone to reckless actions just to put an end to the massacre. He still remembered the content of the letter he’d managed to intercept a few days before the dam broke. The plan was to send out a few soldiers subservient to the mole as a sacrifice – donned in Liyuean army’s uniforms, they would rain grenades on the village under the Fontainan rule. To make sure most of the inhabitants would be wiped out, with a handful surviving to tell the tale, they would subsequently set off the earlier-prepared explosives scattered in the focal locations.
From then on, it would be more than easy to let the word of mouth do its due diligence. Liyue would be undoubtedly blamed for the cruel and inhumane action, with hopes of outraged civilians to oppose the army who would hurt their own without batting an eye. To bring Liyue to ruin and down to its knees. To make it easy to subdue them.
A civil uproar amidst the tides of all-out world war would mean the nation’s demise.
Aether had failed to discover their motivations. What he’d learnt, though, was that most likely Fontaine wasn’t the only one with the issue of moles planted in their midst. If he’d interpreted the collected information correctly, every nation taking part in the conflict was facing the same problem – even if they didn’t know it. There existed a high possibility that all of those stains sullying the armies were in cahoots with each other.
But then again, most of the documentation he’d collected got washed away. He wasn’t as irrational as to bring it everywhere with him. All throughout six months of his hard work, he made sure to hide the pieces away in several places and he only had them gathered because he was about to set off to Fontaine. No human is perfect. Everyone makes mistakes – and that was his. Although the results could prove to be catastrophic.
Aether plopped down on a flat stone by one of the trees where he could clearly see the buildings up ahead. He had no leg to stand on. No proof. It would be his word against others. He vaguely remembered where the explosives were supposed to be planted, but would it be done almost thirty-six hours before the planned sabotage? If he were to bet on that only to find nothing, he’d be branded a lunatic and punished.
However…
There was a way to foil their plans – albeit a foolish one.
No. Not foolish. As it stood, he didn’t even have a proper way to describe the path of self-destruction his mind was confidently walking in order to correct his wrongdoings. It was so painfully easy, even if in the long run more schemes were likely to arise – but if only he would manage to avoid this disaster, surely there would come others in his place to serve as investigators for the issue. Surely.
After all, he wasn’t special. He wasn’t the one, indispensable piece in this bloody game of chess. Easily replaceable cannon fodder, an insignificant existence with a task like thousands of others – should he fail, his listless body would be the stepping stone for his successors to walk upon. He would make the best out of the measly desperation of his.
Both Lumine and father – if he was still alive out there, somewhere – would surely understand the reason behind his actions and forgive him. That is, if they ever found out what happened. Even he couldn’t know how this ploy would play out. He could end up as a fertiliser for the ground beneath him in yet another nameless grave, the gaping hole in his skull the only proof of his end.
That was the more merciful scenario, though. He dreaded the thought of worse repercussions.
Getting any kind of help at this point would be impossible. He’d belatedly come to a dreadful realisation that it was through no fault of his. He could’ve tried reaching out to the Fontainian authorities… or even helped Xiao convince Zhongli. Whatever was to come would be nothing but a price to pay for his incompetence.
And the solution was simple, if a foolish one: were he to run into the village in a frenzy, screaming of deceptions and bombs about to go off, they would detain him no questions asked and drag him away. But then if the explosives would still go off the day after his desperate attempt at salvaging the situation, then it would serve as a proof to his frantic words.
Thus, the only safe conclusion was that they would cease their plans.
Or, at the very least, that was the outcome Aether was praying for to whatever cruel gods were overseeing this blood-bathed world. This was the last remaining lifeline: a sacrifice he wasn’t ready for, but one he owed to all the people who had previously fallen victim to the schemes of shadows lurking in the war, and to the ones who could still live to see its end.
By Archons, he was terrified. With his own free will, the rare chance at freedom bestowed upon him by chance of a kind soul who had saved him from drowning and born from the darkness of his shameful cowardice, Aether was about to embark on a one-way ticket journey to the deepest depths of hell. At the very least, he could only hope his death would be merciful and painless. Although… Was hell really worse than the purgatory they had been living in for the past three years?
He confidently wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes and gazed towards the brightening sky.
“Lumine, Yun Jin, father – I’m sorry.”
One, single thin silver line marked its way down his cheek despite his best efforts, only to collide with the collar of his shirt at the base of his neck and sink into the fabric, into oblivion like many other things had vanished without a trace in this world. “Mom… I’ll see you soon.”
“I've made quite the ruckus before they eventually apprehended me.”
My brother cracks a joke with all the poise he is able to muster up, yet the remark lacks any joy – as does the sad smile stretched across his dry lips.
I wish to ask questions, yet my mind insists on drawing a blank every single time I dip into my thoughts. More than inquire, there’s a desire in me to put a stop to this. To scream, to cover his mouth, to chase clouds outside – as long as I don’t have to hear the rest. I believe it’s that innocent, untainted particle of me, the last one remaining unperturbed piece of my fragmented soul meekly fighting for survival, knowing its end is nigh. And once this very particle detaches, no more light of purity will be left to linger. The little girl in me seeking her brother’s warmth will cease to exist. I think… I’m terrified of losing it.
And yet, I have to say goodbye to her. I owe it to Aether, and to my current self. I don’t delude myself with hopes that his story won’t be shrouded in pain and obscurity, but that miniscule spark of me believing that nothing bad has ever happened to my dear brother is about to flicker and die. I so fiercely wish to hold onto its light for even a second longer.
“And when they did catch me, I was almost ripped to shreds by bullets. They were more than eager to quickly dispose of me. However… he was there. The very mole I was chasing. My appearance must’ve given him an idea to make an example out of me, so he held his soldiers back. I think most of them were simple army men with no connection to the treachery flowing underneath their ranks, but they still viewed me as a threat, perhaps believing I’m one of many who’ve come to lose their minds after losing the last bits of humanity.”
He stops, as if unsure whether he should continue. Do I want him to? No, not in the slightest. But if both of us take a step back now, we will continue to walk only backwards. Between us someone has got to be the one to make the hardest of choices. If it eases his spirit, then let it be me.
“What happened then?” My voice sounds foreign. I feel it’s the timbre I will have to get used to from now on.
“In short, they locked me up with the rats to await trial. The upside of it was that my predictions were spot-on: the sabotage plans never came to pass. Or, at the very least, they were put off for the future, and until then I could pray someone would catch on. And apparently, what I’ve learnt a long time after, many of the soldiers had their doubts about the Lieutenant General and his loyalty and I watered their seed of distrust. But suspicion is a far cry from evidence, and even though the news of my predicament reached the Général Suprême, his hands were tied.”
“Was he the one to judge you?”
“No. Thankfully, no. I know he would be fair and just with the given proof, but I’m glad the burden of it didn’t have to be put on him, especially since he had personally chosen me as his envoy. I was, sadly, judged by the Lieutenant General even though he was the plaintiff. But the provost court is very different from what we’re used to.”
“If most of the soldiers and onlookers thought you were simply mad, where did the treason accusation come from?”
Aether flashes a grin, a grimace born not out of amusement, quite the contrary – it bears disturbingly animalistic features, one that causes a shiver to rain down my back. I’ve never seen such an expression on his face before. “Fabricated evidence. They somehow managed to turn the whole situation on me, viewing me as the perpetrator of the almost-suicidal mission of blowing up the village and blaming the Liyuean army. Were the word of destroying the dam to cause the flood out and about as well, I’m sure they’d find a way to pin this on me, too. The trail was uncharacteristically swift for such a serious indictment. Before the sunset dived beyond the horizon, I was charged and sentenced to death.”
It’s as if he’s telling me someone else’s story – it’s in his detached way of relaying it and my sensation of feeling it as though I’m in an out-of-body experience. Within mere twenty-four hours I’m learning I’ve almost lost my brother to the path of no return not once, but twice. The next words are hard to voice aloud. “Then…how—”
“How am I still alive? Pure luck and someone’s patronage. Clorinde, one of the Lieutenant Generals in Neuvillette’s closest circle, submitted an appeal on my behalf, claiming the evidence wasn’t compelling enough. They managed to stall for time to save my neck, but they couldn’t do anything about the fact that I was to be kept in a special encampment until a subsequent trial could be held. It was around the time when the conflict inflamed further and Inazuma officially joined the opposition, so they had no time to waste on small insects like myself. I was to be kept imprisoned until further notice.”
Something shifts in his eyes. Until now I didn’t think it would be possible for the soft amber to darken even more, yet it takes a second for me to be proven wrong. His features freeze into a mask of indifference that I can easily see through. All of the things he’s told me up until this point were a premonition to the events that ripped the Aether I’ve always known from my hands and strangled every familiar part of him to carve him into a new being, sitting now before me.
“Lumi, how much do you know about the encampments meant for the prisoners of war and traitors?”
I frown. Of course, I’ve heard the term before, it’s not completely unknown to me, but it’s one of the open secrets, its core shrouded in insignificant information fed to the public. I cannot reply with confidence, so I end up shaking my head.
“If war is a playground for the devil, then the encampment is the lair of the crux of evil. I… I really thought I had seen it all before, burning in the all-consuming flames of war. But—”
He trails off, for the first time I hear his voice tremble. He chooses to look away, but not before I have the chance to see tears glistening in his eyes. My body, despite the dread of my heart, moves out of instinct. I take his hands in mine and squeeze them hard to chase the coldness away and give him even a glimpse of reassurance. He flinches, perhaps having fallen out of the habit of being on the receiving end of kindness from another human, and gazes back at me once more. Those very same tears are now waterfalls, their salty waters clearing the mist of the past and bringing it forth to the reality between us.
Aether squeezes my hands back and then continues, the unusual strain never leaving the undertone of his words. “If war was the cause for so many to do away with their humanity, then the encampments have never seen any to begin with. There’s no hell after death, because all the demons are here on earth. I won’t go into detail, not because I want to withhold anything from you – it’s partially because it’s next to impossible for me to put it into words, and partially because I’ll do anything to save your nights from nightmares I have to see play out in front of me every time my eyelids close.
“Violence was served every morning before breakfast. Sometimes we wouldn’t even eat at all. The whole idea of the encampment was for the criminals, or those thought to be criminals, to serve their term while being put to work, mainly in the mines. And ironically, it was the work hours that were the time of the biggest leisure. Everything happening in between… I wouldn’t wish upon my worst enemy. There were so many frail women there, Lumi, and their children, too—”
It hurts. His fingers wrap around my hands so tightly my fingertips are growing white. I say nothing. I don’t even flinch. I let that pain be my anchor when each of his words is trying hard to send me adrift. His tears are the sea between us, dampening my wrist as they fall.
“The guards weren’t the soldiers. They were appointed solely for the encampments, and all of them were under the traitor’s direct command as he was the one overseeing the facilities. They did unspeakable things to every single person imprisoned there. I… I couldn’t watch it. In the beginning, I would stand up for every single one of the tortured souls, crying in silence over the indifference of others. It took a few short weeks for me to understand the source of that very indifference, after having been beaten and tortured mercilessly at every sign of insubordination. I spent days at a time falling in and out of consciousness, the only constant being pain, everywhere, every second.”
He gasps, as if realising something beyond my understanding, and hastily lets go of my hands. When he decides to continue, it’s in a meek whisper. “I became the same. Watching from the sidelines, keeping quiet as to not become the next target if I could help it. Good Archons, Lumi, no one, ever, should see those things with their two eyes. And no one should ever only stand by and watch. But we were overpowered, beaten into submission, shells of humans. I have spent thirteen gruelling months in that hell on earth, which felt like several lifetimes. After those thirteen months, gods know how, it was the traitor I had been tracing to be accused of treason. He fled, the encampments were disbanded and the sentences reevaluated – along with mine. A month after they’d closed down my encampment, I was a free man again. I threw myself back to my duty as a soldier, pushing all the memories into the depths of oblivion. They caught up to me once the peace treaty was signed.”
He jolts, as if seeking physical touch for reassurance again, but holds himself back. It suddenly clicks. It’s not that he doesn’t seek that reassurance – he craves it, but deems himself unworthy. It’s the same sentiment I’ve seen the glimpses of in Xiao. And I refuse to let him withdraw into the walls he’d built around himself. I catch a hold of his forearms, despite his attempts to evade.
“Aether—”
“I couldn’t live with myself, Lumine. Wounds on the body heal, those within the heart only fester, only ever grow. All those people tortured, murdered, beaten, raped in front of my very eyes… I feel like an accomplice to them because I did absolutely nothing to help. The guards and some of the prisoners might have been the main perpetrators, but I’ve spent months hiding in the long shadows of their evil. And then, when the war came to an end, I thought of you being locked up in such a place with such people, for such atrocities to be done to you – I couldn’t allow it. The world is evil. The people are evil. And the only way to keep you safe is to keep you close and at home.”
“Is… is that why you’ve been so cold?” In the light of everything he’s just told me, I decide to focus on the seemingly easiest topic to pick up, leaving the enormous knot of past trauma to untangle later. I’m grasping at straws, I know, but I also need something to ground me. “To protect me?”
“You wouldn’t listen to any kind of plea. You’re a free spirit. If I wasn’t strict… would you have listened? No. You still didn’t listen. You’re still here. You still got wrapped up in conflict, you were in the harm’s way despite my wish to keep you safe. I have no one but you and our father. I can’t… I can’t lose you, like I’ve lost myself already.”
I’ve always tried to be a pillar for him, no matter what life threw at us – Aether has been my protector, but I was the one he would lean on for support. When he came back after the war, he never sought that support even once. Until now. And for the first time in my life I have no verbal comfort to offer to him.
Because what can I even say? I can share no magic spell, no miracle will chase his suffering away. I’m helpless.
To my brother, whose eyes tell the tale of a man who’s lived a thousand lifetimes, I know no solace.
I’m truly, hopelessly, utterly helpless.
Even if I had half of an idea what to say, I wouldn’t trust myself enough to speak. I’d break. For him. For what he’s been through, for the torture of his shortcomings chasing him to this day. All I can do is hold back my own tears to let his fall freely as I hold his trembling body in an embrace and he clings to me like I’m the sole remaining bastion of benevolence.
***
“I know I made a mistake by not being forthcoming with you earlier. But at the same time, I don’t know if I had it in me before. Even now it’s due to the situation we’re in.”
Two days after they had spoken, Lumine and Aether sat together on the wooden chairs on the porch. Aether decided he owed Xiao an explanation as well, thus they’d spoken the day prior – however briefly, as he chose not to disclose as many details as he had to Lumine, and Xiao didn’t press, accepting whatever was given to him.
Aether had regained some colour to his face since speaking to her. Even though he’d omitted the brunt of the blow to keep the peace of her nights intact, Lumine still couldn’t sleep – whenever she closed her eyes, the image of his sunken face with the expression of utter agony as she held him until he calmed down appeared. She wouldn’t admit it to him though – he seemed too engrossed in the thoughts of the past to notice the dark circles around her eyes and persisting paleness – a fact that didn’t go past Xiao unnoticed. They’d seen each other this morning only in passing, and the only thing he’d said to her was that she wouldn’t recover quickly if she didn’t get ample rest.
But her empathetic heart couldn’t help but call out to her brother – if that’s how she felt, having touched upon only the mere surface of the hell he’d walked through, then how did Aether feel? How did he even sleep at night? And had she caused him anguish by choosing to leave Fontaine to travel?
“I’m sorry that my actions and behaviour hurt you. I am. But I won’t apologise for wanting to keep you safe.”
“It’s alright. I wish I could offer you more comfort.”
Aether smiled sadly and looked down at the half-empty cup of cider in his hand – a gift Yun Jin had brought the day before. Her friend hadn’t lingered, only giving the twins a knowing look before returning home, which had made Lumine think that when Aether had disappeared two days ago, he’d gone to see his former lover.
“It’s not your job to comfort me, Lumi.”
“And it’s not your job to disregard everything to protect me.” She raised her hand as he opened his mouth to protest. “I appreciate your care for me. I do. But more than protect me, it is my deepest wish for you to take care of yourself. That’s how you can protect me the best – by giving me the proof that you’re living healthy and are striving to find your happiness despite the past.”
“It’s not that easy, nor is it so poetically beautiful.”
“I’m aware. Those demons might always lurk in the corners of the walls and in shades and shadows. But you are doing a disservice to the deceased by choosing to live in the past you cannot change.” Lumine’s sentiment was piercing, but the softness of her voice countered the bluntness. “I’m sure many of those souls would love to keep on living. If you can’t convince yourself to live for you, do it for them. For me. For dad. For mom.”
She watched her brother take a sip of sweet alcohol and down the liquid to its last drop. He turned his face to the sky and sighed. “You know, some people could tell you that it’s easy for you to say to move on if you hadn’t been through the same hardships as them. Yet I think you’ve had a fair share of your own and there’s many you keep hidden, even from me. Or especially from me.”
His eyes, the perfect reflection of her own, glanced back to drill into her. She didn’t falter, keeping her chin held high. That’s right – if there’s no miraculous words, no magical comfort she could heal him with, then she’d be strong for the two of them, unwavering, even if deep inside her everything shattered for her dear brother, shackled by the past. “I changed, too. We all have changed, shaped by the high tides of war. I won’t deny your assumptions. And I hope you’ll respect my choice not to share whether they’re right.”
“Between the two of us, you have always possessed the mental strength I’m envious of. I won’t hold it against you. After all, I, too, keep things I decided not to share with you, and those I did share were only a drop. I do, however, have one request.”
“Which is?”
Aether reached over the table to take a hold of her hand. “Don’t bottle it up. Your mental fortitude has its downside. You don’t have to brave it on your own. I can say that only because I’ve found my outlet with a trusted person. The burden is still there, but its weight is significantly lighter. Trust someone to carry it with you.”
“My burden is nothing in comparison to others. In comparison to you and to many others—”
“That’s the second downside. You always downplay your own experiences and feelings. They’re just as important.”
It’s unusual. Just a few days ago, Lumine wouldn’t have even humoured the thought of them sitting together like this, drinking and sharing a heart-to-heart – the last time it happened was after their mother had passed away. Especially with the way Aether had been acting, she wouldn’t have imagined it even in her wildest dreams.
Perhaps now that she knew the main source of his griefs and sorrows, it became somewhat easier for them to be open with each other again to an extent.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Coming from you it’s like a promise.”
“It is.”
“But if you ever want to tell me what happened that night when—” Aether’s voice shook, the sheer emotion behind it causing the last words to be swallowed by something akin to a wail. Apparently, the shock and hurt of that day still held him in its clutches – and maybe it also added onto his obsessive desire to protect her.
She didn’t let him pick himself back up. “I don’t want to tell.”
“Not to me, anyway.”
“Not to anyone.”
“What about that promise you’ve just made?”
Lumine scoffed, focusing on anger was incomparably easier than grasping the feelings the mention of that day stirred in her. Yes, we all have our demons, but it’s no use dragging mine into this. “I didn’t say I’d get up this instant to go and find a confidant.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“What about you, though?”
“What about me?”
“Now that I know… Aether.”
As the last remnants of her short-lived anger fizzled out, she caught her twin’s gaze in hers with solemnity. Its intensity had Aether straighten up in his chair. “Do you still want me to go back to Fontaine with you?”
“Yes. That hasn't changed.”
“What would it take for you to trust that I can protect myself just fine?”
“Are you that desperate to stay here?”
Lumine didn’t reply, instead continuing to look straight into his eyes. Aether sighed and rubbed his face harshly with an open palm. “I knew this conversation would come about sooner or later. Lumine. I still want to keep you safe. By any means.”
“I’m grateful. But I am also an adult woman. You can’t keep me locked inside of the house forever.”
“We’re not leaving yet. We can put off the debate for when the trains are operating again. I will… think about it. I do wonder something, though.”
“Yes?”
“I said you were free-spirited and I meant it. Why are you so insistent on compliance when you would normally argue? Is it all because I’ve been keeping you at a distance?”
How much truth and revelations could their one conversation endure? After months of silence and empty communications, it did feel as though earth opened underneath their feet to swallow them into everything that had been left unsaid. Would it truly be alright for her to push the limits and test them further?
“It’s a part of it, yes. You’re persistent and I did make a promise to you – I’d go with you if you helped Xiao. You held to your end of the bargain, and I shouldn’t go back on my word lest it will become worthless.”
“And now you know I had a debt of my own with Xiao.”
“It doesn’t change the facts.”
“Yet here you are, almost giving me the impression that you want to convince me to change my mind.”
“You’re on the right track there, brother.”
“Lumine. I won’t become someone else overnight because I’ve entrusted you with my burdens. You deserved to know what happened to cause me to behave like so. The fact that we can talk openly like this is surreal to me. I will still insist on you being close, preferably within my eyeshot. But—”
“But?”
“Why is it so important to you, Lumi? Is writing some other people’s stories for a newspaper really the catalyst you need to shake off your own traumas sown by war?”
It wasn’t only Lumine who picked bluntness over circling around the topic – and Aether’s aim was exceptionally good. No matter what had happened between them these past few months, he remained her closest family who knew her all too well.
“That’s… a part of it.”
“You’re being vague again.”
Lumine put her elbows on the table and propped her arms up to bury her face in her palms. “I want to stay in Liyue a little bit longer.”
“Why?”
“I think I’m in love with Xiao.”
She’d disembarked on this journey to find truths buried in the embers of war – never would she have suspected she’d find more attachments than those of curiosity and sympathy for the victim of the conflict: both those fallen, and those alive. Whatever suspicion of the sentiments budding in her heart fed her thoughts, only putting them to words broke through with a realisation. Yes, it wasn’t a simple infatuation. She was, indeed, in love with her quiet and kind benefactor.
And that’s something he could never hear falling from her lips.
“Say something,” she urged when Aether kept silent, yet she had no courage to face him.
“I expected many arguments to support you staying here… and that’s about the only one that didn’t cross my mind.”
“Don’t tell him.”
“I certainly don’t intend to,” he reassured quickly, a note of bewilderment clearly audible.
“Good. Because I don’t intend to, either.”
With that, she finally gave her brother a glance – her head snapped back up to meet with his shocked grimace. Her answer probably laid outside the realm of his expectations. He must’ve thought she would argue in favour of her staying to act on those feelings.
For Lumine, though, it was on the contrary – she had no plans to stay in Liyue forever. For now, yes. To be by his side. To aid his sleepless nights and to colour his nightmares bright. To show through actions the new-found affection, and whether he would or wouldn’t catch on would be entirely up to him. To support him from the sidelines until his solitary heart could open up to someone – to be or to guide him to his, as Aether called it, confidant.
The last thing she’d want was to overwhelm him with unwelcome affection. No, he had no need for that. Even if her heart would shatter into million pieces upon exchanging goodbyes, this was her resolution: to love him close yet from afar, to be a pillar to lean on and familiar touch when the night terrors would call upon the need of skinship.
To give him that love, quietly and without fanfare, until he would be ready to let her go.