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Chapter Text

On the day that Xiao met the painter wandering in the mountains of Liyue, he was struggling with an exceptionally profound and excruciating bout of his acquired karma. His heart was hammering in his chest, hard enough for it to hinder his breathing, sweat cascading down every surface of his body. He’s retched a few times but nothing came up, leaving him heaving dry air for the better part of nearly an hour. 

He feels a hand on his back at some point and wants to tell whoever it is to stay away from him, but the lack of air in his lungs prevents him from doing so. When he finally feels like he can turn his head without another spell of nausea washing over him, his eyes trail upwards, stopping at the geo vision fastened just under the person’s neck, then to the diamond shape imprinted on their neck just above it. A person originating from Khaenri’ah with the blessing of his lord. Xiao’s eyes drift even further up to the person’s face, noting their fair skin unsullied by dirt and the same scars that mark his own body, ones he’d never be able to rid himself of.

“Are you alright?” They ask Xiao once they seem to deem him well enough to talk, and the voice that left their mouth was rather soft, mellow, and quiet enough to keep his ears from ringing like they usually do from every slight sound during these moments. His bouts of karmic debt have become so acute over the decades that he’s become sensitive to every sound, every touch, every smell; even the sunlight becomes harsh on his eyes in these moments. Seeing as the taste of bile was still lingering in Xiao’s mouth, he only nodded his head slowly, now noticing the easel underneath the person’s–who he now registers to be a man–arm and the paintbrushes in his grip. A painter, it seemed, looking for inspiration. Xiao wondered why he was out here—in the territory belonging to the adepti who do not like to be bothered—alone. He also wondered how it was that the man had not yet been driven away. The adepti were not known to be very sociable beings these days. He could not have been from around here, for the people of Liyue knew of Jueyun Karst, knew of the Minlin Mountains. To be this far away from any human settlements in search of an area to paint seemed foolish to Xiao. 

“Will you need assistance getting to your destination? Or will you be alright on your own? You don’t seem to be human and I would hate to impede on whatever otherworldly affairs you might have to attend to.” Xiao blinks out of his stupor of contemplation to finally meet the man’s gaze directly. With eyes as clear as those of the hydro yaksha, Xiao was struck with the thought that perhaps he'd seen this man before, a glance had somewhere in his lengthy memory.

In place of answering, Xiao asks him, “What is your name?” The man stiffens faintly. 

“Albedo Kreideprinz.” He answers, and Xiao knows that name, somehow. “You?”

“Adeptus Xiao, Yaksha of Liyue, and Conqueror of Demons.” Xiao uses all his titles in hopes of giving Albedo a hint as to where he is currently roaming, a warning of sorts. The reaction he gets is not the one he expects. The painter’s eyes widen with intrigue and he leans forward a bit.

“Adeptus Xiao? Aren’t you the last standing Yaksha of Liyue? The Traveler has told me about you.” Xiao blinks in surprise. How many people has the traveler talked about him to? “You are indeed as magnificent as Aether claimed you to be. Would you mind being the subject of my next painting?” Albedo finally talked like he was speaking to an illuminated beast of Liyue, and his words came out rushed like he had no time to take breaths in between words. Xiao, for his part, was still stuck on the fact that Aether had complimented him so. While the Traveler was usually not one to withhold praise, he had never said anything like this to Xiao directly before. Besides, these kinds of praises were usually reserved for his lord. As far as Xiao knew, he was only known as the solitary adeptus that dwelled in Wangshu Inn. He’s never known himself to be beautiful

“Are you still feeling unwell? I can leave you alone if you’d like.” Albedo backs away from him finally, and Xiao really should take this opportunity to return to the duties that he knows are awaiting him. He knows better than to start a correspondence that won’t last given his longevity. 

However, this could be different. 

Albedo Kreidiprinz, a man hailing from a nation long fallen, was clearly not a regular mortal, and there was something, some way about him that made Xiao want to draw nearer. 

“You should take a break sometimes, Xiao. Everyone needs one.”  Both Aether and Venti had told him; two people whose opinions he held in very high regard. The Traveler had told him, “It’s not good to be so wound up all the time, you’ll drive yourself crazy. Just because you’ve been doing so for centuries now, doesn’t mean you’ll be able to for centuries more.” And Venti had said, “Don’t end up like that grumpy old man Morax. He used to believe that taking breaks was a sign of deterioration. I told him that it was the exact opposite but he refused to listen. And now look at him! All he does is take breaks! Those centuries of being so stretched stiff finally got to him!” Xiao knows that they’re right, but he still couldn’t find it in himself to close his eyes for a second too long. 

So really, while he should have turned away, this time, he didn’t want to. 

The second time Xiao meets Albedo, it is under less distressing circumstances. 

“I took a tour of Liyue the other day and found a book regarding your past,” Albedo says when he finds Xiao on the balcony of Wangshu Inn, without any sort of preamble, though Xiao didn’t mind. He could not stand those who took too long to get their point across. 

“Is that so?” He says without looking at the other man, keeping his eyes trained on the terrain before him. From the corner of his eye, he can see Albedo nodding. 

“It was very harrowing. Much more so than the Traveler had mentioned.” Xiao nods. He knows this, and lives it daily, though a particular part of Albedo’s statement had caught his ear. 

“What has the Traveler told you about me?” Albedo’s shoulders rise in a nonchalant shrug.

“He told me that you were someone who usually avoided interaction with others and that you always had everyone’s best interests in mind, excluding your own.” Albedo is looking at him now as if trying to gauge whether he can see these things in Xiao’s face, and Xiao swallows the spit that had gathered in his mouth. Somehow, Aether had told Albedo everything and nothing at all. 

“Did he, now,” Is all Xiao says. Albedo nods again and doesn’t continue. They sit in what Xiao considers comfortable silence. He hears the song of birds carried by the wind to his ears and tries to imagine what it is like to be free. 

“You never answered any of my questions last time we met.” Albedo breaks the silence again, but Xiao doesn't mind it. 

“I answered when you asked about my name.” 

“That’s not the answer I was looking forward to most.” Xiao had an inkling as to what answer he was looking for, and he knew Albedo was watching him again. 

As the centuries passed, Xiao has come across many different depictions of himself from different perspectives. He’s seen himself portrayed as a bird with fiery wings that light up the land below as he takes flight in the skies, in the form of phoenixes and vermillion birds alike. He’s seen himself illustrated amid a battle with something unseen, his spear making perfect arcs in the air, false moonlight reflecting his image onto the faces of his enemies, into the eyes of the viewers. He’s seen his own face outlined with great sorrow as he watched those he loved die around him. He found these images to be the most disagreeable to him, for how could they ever hope to capture the intensity of his anguish? Any portrait would only pale in comparison. 

The people of Liyue, while being business-oriented, seemed to take after their former archon and indulge in what he thought to be useless, even if he would never say so to Rex Lapis himself. Even though his lord was no longer his lord. 

“Will you be the subject of my next painting?” Albedo asks him again, and this time, instead of ignoring the question altogether, he runs. 

“I have more important things to do than posing for a picture.” He then teleports away so he can’t hear Albedo's reply. 

While it isn’t the third time they meet, it is one that stays in his mind long after. 

“Why do you reject my every request to paint you?” Albedo asks him one day when they’re walking through the Huaguang Stone Forest, a routine they’d fallen into when Xiao had found Albedo wandering the Minlin Mountains alone for the fourth time within a month. When the adeptus asked him why, Albedo responded with a simple, ‘I was looking for you’. He remembers the seriousness in which it was said, and it reminded him of Zhongli; always saying the most absurd of things with the gravest of faces. 

Now, he’s looking at Albedo ‘Not Looking’ at him, and he feels the beginnings of a smile forming. It fades when he remembers the question he still has yet to answer. 

“Why do you insist on attempting to paint me?” Xiao knows he’s avoiding the question, as he has every time Albedo has posed it. 

“I only paint things that catch my attention, and you’ve had it ever since Aether told me about you,” Albedo answers, and Xiao really should be used to Albedo saying things that catch him unaware by now. 

“Why?” He asks, both to stall from answering once more and because of genuine curiosity.

“Because for all that I enjoy seeing people in moments of happiness, I enjoy painting tragedies in equal measure.” Xiao accepts that he doesn’t understand him. “As such, it is a tragedy that you won’t let me portray you with the colors of nature onto a canvas for you to gaze at in your more leisurely moments.” He wonders where such flowery language came from, for up until this point, he was under the impression that Albedo was more pragmatic rather than sentimental if it could even be referred to as such

“Then perhaps you should paint this scene rather than me.” Albedo’s chin dips at Xiao’s response, and he closes his eyes like he’s seeing this scene being depicted with the soft strokes of his brush and swirling colors behind his eyelids. 

“I have. Hundreds of times before, and each time I can’t help but wonder why you refuse me.” Xiao can look at him no longer, feeling his grip on his forearms tighten. He doesn’t reply, and Albedo takes it as his cue to steer the conversation toward safer topics.

Xiao visits Mondstadt at the behest of the Traveler, whom he often had a hard time refusing. 

“It’d be good for you, Xiao. Liyue can handle itself long enough for you to leave for a bit. You remember the deal you made with the Qixing, right?” Aether reminds him when Xiao opens his mouth to protest, golden eyes twinkling the way Xiao’s don’t, and haven’t in centuries. Xiao nods, taking one last cursory glance at the ground below them from Wangshu Inn before he lets himself be led away. 

They walk for more than a day to reach the city’s stoned walls. Xiao had offered to teleport them a few times but Aether refused every single one, saying that Xiao needed to take the time to look at Liyue as something more than an obligation. Though Xiao wouldn’t admit so out loud, he had to agree with Aether. For the first time in a long time, he fully takes in the way the steep mountains change to calmer plains with the wind rolling across them freely. It felt like even the air around them had shifted into something more relaxed. He felt his shoulders drop, unaware that they'd even risen in the first place. Barbatos’ presence was evident here, even if the god himself was no longer active. 

“Isn’t it nice?” Aether asks him as they pass through Wolvendom, the forest occupied by Andrius. He remembers the wolf’s dislike of the archons and his disparaging words toward his lord. He also remembers hearing Barbatos rant about him on multiple occasions. Fondness grows at the memory of Venti’s animated voice filtering through the sound of his thoughts playing on repeat. 

“He’s worse than Dvalin” Venti had said, his hands waving back and forth as if to fully convey his irritation. “Those two never listen to anything I say to them! Even if it’s important!” Xiao felt a smile raising the corner of his mouth. 

“Should I take that to mean that most of the things you say to them aren’t important?” Xiao replies with an eyebrow raised in inquiry, and Venti laughs nervously, looking away from the adeptus staring at him knowingly. 

“Heh. Maybe. At least you still listen.” And at the time, Xiao had thought, ‘I’ll always listen when you need me to.’

Now, Aether nudges his arm, bringing his attention to the city in front of them. He hears the people bustling within its walls and suddenly feels unprepared, like the minute he steps past the gate, he’ll be overwhelmed with sounds and sights to take in. After avoiding it vehemently for centuries, the thought of stepping into such a crowded place again makes His chest tighten and his breaths come a bit quicker. His mind immediately began to cloud with visions of his karmic debt spiraling out of his control, of the voice constantly screaming in his head suddenly becoming too much for him to bear in addition to all the real ones, despite him having borne this burden for so long. He crosses his arms, his grip on himself tight enough to leave marks on his skin, and the slight pain serves as an anchor for himself, a way to remember his feet on the ground. He fears for these people, Xiao realizes suddenly. Fears that today will be the day he loses himself to insanity, fears that he will leave a deeply embedded stain on the city by just being present. It’s a fight every day for him, and he’s never sure if he’ll win.

Aether notices the lag in his steps and slows to a stop, grabbing Xiao’s hand and rubbing his thumbs over Xiao’s soothingly, loosening a few of the knots that had gathered in his stomach.

A few minutes later, after Xiao has calmed down, they finally walk into the city. Immediately Xiao is bombarded by the sound of music and voices, as he had expected, though it was made much easier to bear with Aether by his side, still holding his hand. A bard was playing in front of a tavern nearby, singing notes full of joy and with such free spirit that it was almost like he could hear Venti. Another example of Venti’s presence within the people, and so different from Liyue. 

“Is there anywhere in particular you want to go?” Aether asks him, and Xiao wants to remind him that he was the one who brought the adeptus here in the first place, but he refrains because a thought strikes him at that moment. 

“Dragonspine,” he voices, head whipping around in search of a head of sandy blonde hair. Aether tilts his head in confusion at Xiao’s words and actions, brow furrowed. 

“Is the city overwhelming you still? We can leave if you’d like.” Xiao shakes his head but doesn't know how to communicate that it wasn’t the city that was bothering him—not now, at least—but who it lacked. 

“Xiao?” A voice calls out to him before he can start getting frustrated. Turning in the direction of it, he spots Albedo’s blue eyes staring at him in surprise. Xiao tugs on Aether's hand, pulling him towards the Khaenri’ahn. Albedo’s surprise grows when he sees Aether trailing behind the eager seeming adeptus.

“I never thought I’d see you here, Xiao.” Albedo tilts his head to the side slightly, but his words aren’t unkind. 

“The Traveler forced my hand.” Xiao is aware of how dramatic that sounds, knowing that Aether would never make him do something he didn’t want to, even if he said it was okay, but it was always hard to resist the Traveler when he had that hopeful look in his eyes. 

“He’s awfully good at that, isn’t he?” Albedo says with an upward quirk of his lips. Xiao agrees with a vehement nod of his head and Aether looks affronted.

“You can always say no if you really want to. I wouldn’t force you to do something you truly disliked.” Aether’s brow furrows in concern. They were fully aware of this, but Albedo enjoyed teasing the Traveler. Xiao did too, to a degree. 

“Well, I won’t hold you up for much longer. I have paperwork I need to finish before the end of the week, seeing as I am still part of the Knights of Favonius.” Albedo heaves a tired sigh and Xiao’s shoulders sag slightly. Aether notices, his brow now going up in surprise, before he starts to grin. 

“Would you mind if he accompanied you?” He nudges Xiao towards the alchemist. “I’ve got a few errands I need to run while I’m here.” He runs away before hearing Albedo’s response, leaving them both confused.

“Well then,” Albedo starts. “I suppose you’ll be coming with me to Dragonspine.” He turns away to lead Xiao through the city, but Xiao grabs his arm tight, starting to feel himself drift again, becoming untethered again after the Traveler has let go of his hand. Albedo turns his head to look back at him in confusion, but at the pleading look in Xiao’s eyes, he softens, easing Xiao’s hand off his arm and into his hand. Xiao’s stiff shoulders relax slightly when Albedo squeezes his hand reassuringly, paired with a soothing smile. 

The trek up Dragonspine to Albedo’s ‘office’ was a quiet one. The cold bothered neither of them, but Xiao shivered at times anyway. In all the times Albedo visited Xiao in Liyue and they talked about this or the other, Albedo purposefully kept away from the topic of his work. Xiao wondered why, but never broached the subject with the alchemist, figuring that if the man hadn’t brought it up himself, then Xiao wouldn’t bring it up either. 

Now, as Xiao steps into the campsite that doubles as Albedo’s office, the first thing he notices is the abundance of portraits of a man with an eye patch, his uncovered eye carrying the same mark Albedo’s neck does; proof of a Khaenri’ahn. The second thing he notices is the overflowing amount of profound grief that resided in them, a kind of despair he knew intimately, one he never knew humans could even experience. The third and final thing he notices before he looks away (because he can look no longer), is the fact that, in each and every portrait, the man is smiling. 

“Who is this?” Xiao asks, pointing to the painting that first captured his attention. When Albedo’s gaze falls upon it, it shifts, almost imperceptibly. 

“That is one of my colleagues. Captain Kaeya Alberich of the cavalry team.” Xiao scrutinizes the sketches, the gears in his mind turning. 

“Why do you paint him so often?” When he asks this question, Albedo smiles a rather joyless smile, empty of emotion, similar to the ones in the paintings. It’s small enough to be interpreted as a smile for himself, but Xiao sees it anyway. Catalogues it in his mind. 

“Because I enjoy painting tragedies,” Albedo says. Xiao looks back at the portraits looking back at him and imagines that he can see himself painted by Albedo’s skillful hand.

“I wish to see this man.” Maybe he’d understand Albedo a bit more if he met who appeared to be Albedo’s favorite subject. It’s now that he realizes just how little he knows about the man. The alchemist shrugged. 

“He might be a bit busy right now, but he will most likely be at Angel Share, a drinking tavern, later today. Would you mind staying with me for a bit longer while I finish my paperwork?” Xiao found that he wouldn’t mind doing anything Albedo asked him at that moment, not with the way Albedo looked at him with such warm eyes. He shakes his head. 

As the sun sunk deeper into the horizon, Xiao found himself more alert at Albedo’s side, the night sharpening his senses, his ears becoming sensitive to the slightest sounds. His skin prickles at every gust of wind, and he knows that he’s fidgeting. Restless, he paces around Albedo’s office/lab/campsite until the alchemist finally finishes. 

“Now should be a good time to visit the tavern. Captain Kaeya should be finished with his work for the day as well.” Albedo exhales heavily as he cleans his workspace, with Xiao watching him. “Ready to meet the subject of so many of my artworks?” Xiao nods. “Don’t tell him of this, though. He would never leave me alone if he were to find out.” Xiao’s curiosity grows, but he agrees with a nod.

When they arrive at the tavern, Albedo opens the door to a rather crowded building, a counter just beyond the door with a tall red-headed man standing behind it, and a tall blue-haired man sitting on one of the stools, tan skin standing out against the crowd. Xiao thinks back to the painting in Albedo’s office, of the eye as deep as the ocean, and when the man on the stool—Kaeya, he surmises—turns to look at them, he can’t help but realize how accurate Albedo's rendition of the man is. 

“Welcome, Albedo and guest. Anything I can get you started with?” The red-headed man greets them, his voice gruff but not unwelcoming. 

“Just water is fine. For the both of us.” Albedo responds, pulling Xiao to the counter and seating himself next to Kaeya, not even sparing the man a glance. Xiao stands next to him. 

“Albedo.” Kaeya starts, and his voice is smooth and dulcet, sweet like honey. It dripped down Xiao’s spine and sent a shudder he repressed through him. “It’s been quite some time since we last spoke to each other aside from work, hasn’t it?” There was a smile on Kaeya’s face, but it felt off somehow, not truly reaching his eye. Albedo shrugged, lifting his glass to sip his water. 

“I suppose. I’ve been rather…distracted, as of late.” His eyes flit over to Xiao before looking away again. Kaeya turns his eye over to him, his gaze washing over him, and Xiao represses another shiver. Despite the man only having one eye visible, it was just as piercing as any other, if not more so. 

“Is that so?” Kaeya says, resting his head on his palm. His eye narrowed, but it didn’t feel disapproving. It felt more analytical than anything. It made Xiao itch under his skin, and he suddenly understood why Albedo put so much detail into the man’s eye when painting him. “And who’s your friend? He looks interesting.” 

“This is Xiao. A friend from Liyue.” Albedo doesn’t use any of his titles when introducing him, and Xiao is simply himself. A friend. 

“Oh?” Kaeya says, voice lowering and it’s like he’s leaning closer without moving an inch because it promptly felt like he was right in front of Xiao. The cavalry captain tilts his head in his palm and his lips lift into a more sly smile. This man holds a tragedy within him, Xiao reminds himself. His eye held a sadness so intense it felt like his own. If he had Albedo's proclivity for art, he too would be inclined to paint this man.

“Well, I’m happy to see that Albedo has someone it seems he can confide in. He always refuses my offers to join me in a drink at this tavern.” He sighed like it was truly something to lament.

“Probably because you would end up making him foot the bill.” The man behind the bar speaks up, his back turned to them like he wasn’t paying much attention to the interaction before him, though Xiao could tell otherwise. The man was acutely aware of their presence, or more specifically, Kaeya’s presence, it seemed. His shoulders were set in a tense line that Xiao was excruciatingly familiar with, for his own shoulders never really leave that stance. The man continues talking. “That, and you are so extremely persistent to the point of annoyance. He probably grew tired of the insistence.” He says, his words scathing, and Xiao wonders what Kaeya did to earn such ire. The cavalry captain puts a hand to his chest in what seems to be mock hurt that covers up a very real ache. 

“Goodness, Diluc, have I done something to offend you recently?” The man with fiery red hair glares at him. Albedo sighed, setting his glass down and turning to Xiao, who still hadn’t touched his glass, too distracted by everything before him. 

“Would you like to leave? I wouldn’t be surprised considering how hard it is to enjoy a conversation with Diluc and Kaeya around.” Both men make affronted noises to this, and Xiao is sure Albedo did it on purpose, so he doesn’t bother pointing out that they had only just arrived at the tavern mere minutes ago, and smothers a smile against his hand. He didn’t care much either way because he had found what he was looking for in the cavalry captain’s honeyed voice and melancholic eyes. They leave without further delay, and Kaeya calls out his farewells to them as they walk through the tavern doors.

Back on Dragonspine, in Albedo’s campsite, Xiao views the painting with fresh eyes. Seeing the source material brought about a new perspective. He leans against a wall, watching as Albedo clears one of his tables of what seems to be miscellaneous items. His eyes drift once more towards the paintings of the man he now knows as Kaeya Alberich, and connects face to name, voice to image. His stomach seizes with a sudden anxiety. 

“Will you let me paint you?” Albedo asks him suddenly, his voice cutting almost harshly through his contemplative silence, and when Xiao looks at him he finds the alchemist gazing at him so languidly that he feels himself shiver. His blue eyes were always so frighteningly clear. Xiao swallows in an attempt to wet his dry throat. He can’t find the words, so he shakes his head. When Albedo nods softly in acceptance without any further protests, Xiao feels regret settle like heavy lead in his stomach.

“Traveler, has Albedo painted you before?” Xiao asks Aether on a day when he is not next to the alchemist. It had been about a week since he had last seen Albedo in Mondstadt, and the man had not visited him since. He’d asked Aether about it at one point, but the traveler had just shrugged, saying he hadn’t seen Albedo either. Perhaps he was in Dragonspine again, performing another outlandish experiment not meant to be inside the walls of the city. Regardless, neither of them had seen the alchemist and Xiao wasn’t keen on searching for him, in case he would be interrupting something important. Albedo was elusive when he wanted to be, a clear sign he didn’t want to be found. 

So, he sits with Aether instead, and the traveler fills the silence with unnecessary chatter, though Xiao would never mind it when it came to him. 

“He has,” the Traveler answers, and the response fills Xiao’s mind with images of what the painting could look like. Maybe it looked like Kaeya’s, with special emphasis on the eyes, and the compelling sadness within them, though Xiao couldn’t imagine the same for Aether, always so bright in his eyes. “I enjoy painting tragedies,” Albedo had said when Xiao asked him why he wanted to paint the adeptus so badly, why Xiao had apparently had his attention for so long. Knowing this, Xiao tries to imagine the tragedy within Aether, the same way he had with Kaeya, and it feels like a near-impossible task. It’s hard to imagine the traveler as anything but happy, even if he knows how unrealistic that is.

“What’d it look like?” Xiao asks because the curiosity settles on his skin like a thick layer of heat, suffocating him. Aether takes a deep breath and looks out onto the view of Qingce Village, the air around them suddenly turning tense. Xiao leans towards him in anticipation, unaware of his movement. The suspense of waiting for Aether's answer makes him ball his hands into fists. After Xiao’s last refusal, the thought of Albedo painting him has plagued his mind nearly every moment he moves. The idea of what Albedo might put on canvas to portray him made him pause, and it took him his encounter with the source of all of Albedo’s other paintings to realize that he was afraid. Xiao was afraid of the truths he refused to face about himself, being put on display for all to see, or even just himself. Aether speaks before he can spiral into fear like he’s done in the past.

“That painting was the most beautiful and haunting thing I had ever seen.” The Traveler exhales heavily, his head tilting downwards toward the ground, his hands gripping the log they sat on. “The last time I looked at it was the day he showed it to me.” Xiao's eyes widen in surprise, but then he remembers the feelings that seized him when he looked at all the paintings and drawings of Kaeya Alberich; a sorrow reminiscent of his own, and he’s sure that Kaeya himself would hardly be able to look at them. 

“What…what did you see in it?” Xiao asks because for all he knows about the Aether, like Albedo, he’s aware that he doesn’t know much at all, and whatever the traveler saw in the painting was something that must still trouble him to this day seeing as he hasn’t laid his eyes on the painting since. For all that Xiao has avoided interaction with others in fear of infecting them with his karmic debt, Aether was…different, somehow. It was nearly unexplainable to Xiao, the way he wanted to talk with the Traveler, and now Albedo. Whenever he tried to delve deep into himself to look for the reason, he was presented with a tangled mess of thoughts and emotions that he realized he might never have time to sort out, for all that he is immortal. 

“I saw…” Aether starts finally, after a silence Xiao hadn’t realized occurred, entirely lost in his thoughts. “I saw a lot of things at once..” Aether took a deep breath, puffing his cheeks out as he looked out at the terraced farmlands of Qingce Village. “It’s a lot harder to explain than to just show you, so how about I do that?” He stands, stretching his hands above his head before pulling out a teapot from somewhere. It didn’t seem to be a regular one, seeing as when Aether brought it out, it proceeded to float in the air. Xiao quickly registered it as an adept abode, feeling the familiar energy leaking out from it being similar to that of Cloud Retainer’s abode, though he knew they were not one to gift such a thing to anyone, so he only wondered where this one came from. Aether sticks a hand out to Xiao, and when Xiao accepts, they are sucked into the teapot. 

When Xiao opens his eyes next, he is greeted with a view of mountains similar to that of the Huaguang Stone Forest with a Liyuean-styled mansion. Large trees littered the sides and framed the mansion in such a way that made it feel like a getaway home built in the middle of an uninterrupted forest sitting on the peak of a lofty mountain with the clouds resting just beneath it. A breathtaking view, though not something Xiao was particularly surprised by. Adept abodes were capable of hosting a great many views, though Xiao never owned one himself. He never needed to, seeing as Wangshu Inn served as a perfectly fine place to watch over Liyue, and, take a small rest if the need arose (the need often arose, yet he would ignore it before he ever gave in because Adepti Do Not Need Sleep). 

Aether takes confident strides towards the mansion, giving Xiao the impression that he’s visited this place a multitude of times before this moment. Xiao follows him into the house, and his first thought is praise for how tastefully decorated the house is, feeling more homely than Xiao would have initially imagined. Aether leads him to a room just beyond the entryway, off to the right. He stops just before entering, and Xiao is momentarily confused before he remembers Aether’s earlier words. 

 “The last time I looked at it was the day he showed it to me.”  

Aether moves to stand next to the door rather than in front, motioning with an arm towards it. “The painting is in here. You’ll see it the moment you walk in.” He pauses, and Xiao gets the feeling that the traveler has more to say. “I put the painting up because it didn’t feel right to let it collect dust somewhere in storage. Despite how…hard it is to look at for me, I don’t mind if others see it. I want people to see how talented Albedo is since he isn’t the most public personality, and the things he usually draws are odd creatures, creations he brings to life using his alchemy, and whatever else might catch his eye for a moment. You’ve seen them, haven’t you?” Xiao nods, recalling Albedo’s often unfinished sketches of the creatures of the world and sometimes fusions of them together. In those times, he’s thankful for the extremely fleeting interest Albedo experiences, for it saves him another monster to slay. An exhale of a chuckle escapes his nose at the thought, and Aether smiles softly at it, eyes crinkling genuinely at the edges. 

Xiao becomes serious again, his mind turning to all those portraits of the cavalry captain, the complexity of them, and he tries to imagine Aether in the same light. Despite knowing about Albedo’s usually short-lived interest, he was also very aware of how certain things can plague the alchemist’s mind for weeks—sometimes months—at a time, having been informed of how Xiao himself often occupied Albedo's mind, as said by the man himself. He clears his throat, steeling himself for the painting that lay beyond the door. An anticipation more intense than the one he had experienced earlier began to wash over him, making his fingertips tingle. He’d be learning more about the traveler while experiencing the depths of Albedo’s brilliance once more, something that hadn’t happened since the last time he looked at the painting of Kaeya Alberich. 

Pushing open the door, his eyes immediately land on the large painting hung on the wall opposite of the door—just like Aether said they would—seeing as it was the only thing adorning the walls in the room. Framed by simple gold with no sort of design etched into it was a painting of Aether, his arms at his side, from the elbows up. The background behind him was dark, almost completely black. His body appeared to be turned away, so it seemed like Aether was looking to the side—almost back—at the viewer, his head tilted very marginally. A cursory glance at this painting would reveal nothing particularly outstanding about it, but Albedo’s art always required more than that, and a more thorough gaze revealed that there were shadowy figures behind Aether. Xiao takes a step closer to the painting, feeling drawn to it. Now, in closer proximity, the adeptus can just barely make out the nebulous outlines of people behind the traveler, and the faint shading of hands wrapped around Aether’s neck, resting on his shoulders, and clutching at his arms. Not only that, but Aether was smiling—mournfully if the small pools of tears in his eyes were anything to go by. Another step closer exposes a reflection in Aether’s eyes, an even vaguer outline of a person, though Xiao assumes it to be his sister, hence the reason for his tears. His inability to truly help the traveler in his search for his sister was always something that made him clench his fists with frustration. Another reason to be disappointed in himself.

Goosebumps broke out across Xiao’s skin as he regarded the painting, and he felt like the air around him suddenly became suffocating, something heavy settling deeper into his skin the longer he looked at the painting, so he looked away. He now understood very clearly why Aether hadn’t looked at it since the day it was first shown to him. Stepping out of the room, he looks to the side to find Aether in the exact same spot he left him in. Having seen the painting, when he looks at Aether now he feels something in his chest clench. 

“I enjoy painting tragedies.” 

The words echo inside his mind once more and Xiao shivers. He thinks he understands the alchemist just a little bit better now, even if he’d never be able to understand him fully. 

“What did you think when you first saw it?” Aether asks Xiao without looking at him, his arms crossed tight against his chest. Xiao thinks about the answer, and after a moment, he responds, 

“I thought it was beautiful. Very…evocative, I’d imagine, for you. Very much like Albedo.” Aether nods at his answer, still not looking at Xiao. 

“And do you know what it means?” Now that question was a harder one for Xiao to answer. It felt like he had puzzle pieces that he knew fit together somehow, but he only had three out of a thousand, and the rest were incredibly small and scattered in the sand, with some out at sea. A fruitless search; another something he knew intimately. Finally, after a time has passed, he answers honestly: with a shrug.

“I don’t know.” He says in addition to the motion, remembering that Aether still was not looking at him. When he does, the traveler finally looks up, a slight smile on his lips, though it was bereft of any of the joy Aether knew the traveler for.

“Neither do I,” Aether says, and Xiao knows, somehow, that it was a lie. They leave it at that

Back in Qingce Village, Xiao has barely any time to start digesting the portrait before he sees the creator, walking on the bridge leading out of the village and towards them. When he spots them, his eyes light up and the pacing of his steps increases a bit.

“Traveler. Xiao.” Albedo speaks when he approaches them, his face leaning more towards being happy but still rather neutral. Aether smiles at him, a genuine smile that reaches his eyes, and Xiao nods his head at the alchemist. “I haven’t seen you in some time, Adeptus Xiao. My apologies, for I have been rather busy as of late.” Albedo goes to stand next to Xiao, and Xiao realizes just how aware of his presence he is. 

Xiao shakes his head at Albedo’s words. “You owe me no apology, Albedo. I have not done anything to earn it.” Then he thinks to himself. “I am curious as to your presence in the village, though. This isn’t usually one of the places we visit on our walks.” Aether raises an eyebrow at the mention of their walks, which makes Xiao confused because he had thought that the alchemist had mentioned it to the Traveler at least once. Now he wondered why the man hadn’t. 

“I was meeting with the author of the novels I illustrate covers for. You may know of it.” Xiao knows he won’t, for he does not keep up with the trends of mortals. Aether leans toward him though, and Xiao remembers the Traveler mentioning that he does collect and read books when he has the time. “It’s called ‘A Legend of Sword’,” And before Albedo can even finish his sentence, Aether is gasping excitedly.

“Oh! I know that series. I love that series. Out of all the books I come across during my travels, those are some of my favorites. It was a shock to learn that Xingqiu is the author of those books.” Albedo raises an eyebrow. Xiao feels like he knows the name somehow. Most likely he remembers hearing it from the traveler.  

“You know the author?” Aether nods, lacing his fingers together as he gets a faraway look in his eyes, smiling fondly as if remembering his past adventures. 

“Indeed I do. He was a rather interesting person. You two do seem like you would work well together, though.” Xiao, feeling a bit out of the conversation, decides to watch Albedo and Aether interact with each other. In all the times that Aether has come to visit him at Wangshu Inn, and Albedo around the mountains of the adepti, up until this point, their paths never crossed. Xiao does not travel outside of Liyue unless asked, which he wasn’t until he met the Traveler. The only time he had ever seen the two together was the last time he was in Mondstadt, and it was only for a moment when Aether had essentially dropped Xiao off with the alchemist. Not that he was upset about it.

Now, as he watches them, he sees the way Albedo’s face softens from its usual aloofness and hears his tone become more…gentle. Briefly, Xiao wonders if Albedo’s demeanor changes the same way when they’re around each other. They’re rarely ever around anyone long enough for them to tell him, and he rarely sees Albedo without Albedo also seeing him. Just as quickly as the thought crosses his mind, he dismisses it. A foolish query.

“Actually, Albedo, we were just talking about you,” Aether says and Xiao finds himself tuning back into the conversation before him. Albedo looks at him with curious eyes.

“Oh?” Aether nods, somewhat excitedly, and Xiao avoids Albedo’s gaze, still embracing the fact that it was the alchemist before him who was the hand behind those harrowing portraits.

“Mhm. I showed him the portrait you made of me.” Aether says and Albedo tilts his head in thought.

“Which one? I have made many.” Now it was Aether who tilted his head confusedly.

“You’ve made more than one?” Xiao’s eyes widen and now he’s looking at Albedo, who suddenly seemed lost in his thoughts. Aether shakes his head. “Never mind that. I’m talking about the one you gave me.” Albedo snaps his fingers.

“Yes, I do remember that one. It’s one of my favorite works.” Xiao raises an eyebrow at this.

“I thought your favorite things to draw were people when they’re happy? The Traveler did not seem very happy in that portrayal.” Albedo inclines his head toward Xiao.

“Ah, but I also told you I enjoy painting tragedies, didn’t I? I find that painting and drawing moments of profound emotions help me to better grasp them.” Xiao knows this very well, he’d only wanted to hear Albedo’s answer. He wanted to confirm that what he knew of the alchemist was correct and that it was untrue that he knew nothing about the man at this point. The idea made him…upset, for some reason.

“Xiao said it was beautiful,” Aether says, leaning toward the adeptus, and Xiao jolts, feeling somehow embarrassed. It’s then he realizes that he had yet to ever compliment Albedo’s artworks to his face. He looks away from Albedo again, though not before he catches a glimpse of the man’s lips tilting upwards.

“Did he now?” Xiao presses his lips into a thin line, refusing to say a word. “What an honor.” Albedo then sighs as if lamenting something. “If only he would allow me to portray him in a similar fashion. I imagine it’d be even more beautiful.” Xiao crosses his arms tight around himself, feeling goosebumps break out across his flesh once more as Albedo’s heavy, almost pleading gaze washes over him. If there was one thing that Aether’s portrait reaffirmed for Xiao, it’s that he was most definitely afraid. He shakes his head again, still turned away from the alchemist. Aether watches as Albedo deflates, though it was in such a near unnoticeable minute way. Immediately, he gets the feeling that this is not the first time, for when it comes to something Albedo is fascinated by, he is persistent. This also led Aether to believe that it would not be the last time Albedo asked. 

Like the last time he refused, Xiao felt a heavy, regretful feeling settle deep inside himself. 

Chapter Text

“Has Albedo ever painted you before?” Xiao turns to the wanderer, who stands beside him on the highest balcony of Wangshu Inn, resolutely avoiding his gaze. The man stared across Dihua Marsh, leaning heavily on the railing with his chin in his palm. Xiao didn’t expect an answer immediately, knowing how the man was. After some time, the man sighs, indicating his preparation to answer.

“...No, he hasn’t. I don’t think he will, to tell the truth.” This confuses Xiao because, in his eyes, the wanderer is plenty interesting enough to catch Albedo’s attention. In fact, he is sure that’s why Albedo continued talking to the wanderer in the first place. The alchemist was not one to waste his time having an idle conversation with someone who didn’t interest him. Xiao knew this from witnessing the man’s interactions with anyone but him, Aether, and the cavalry captain of Mondstadt. It seemed to him that the wanderer and Albedo have also had many conversations, given the way the wanderer talked about the alchemist as if he knew him well. Perhaps there was more to it that Xiao wasn’t aware of. Putting the thought aside, he pushes onward with his line of questioning.

“Why would you think that?” He asks the man, who shrugs with indifference, but at this point, Xiao knows the man well enough to spot the signs of quiet frustration; the slightly tense line of his shoulders, his grip tightening on the railing, the stiffness of his body. The wanderer shrugs again. 

“What about you?” He deflects, deciding to look at the adeptus now with a smile that Xiao wasn’t sure how to read. 

“He…wishes to,” Xiao answers after a moment, and the wanderer raises an eyebrow.

“He wishes to? Has he not already painted or sketched you yet? I find that hard to believe.” The man chuckles, though Xiao isn’t sure why. He didn’t think he had said anything humorous.

“As far as I know, there have been no art pieces made of me by Albedo, though perhaps he’s sketched me before without my knowledge.” The wanderer eyes him with a questioning look, which Xiao skillfully avoids as the man had done to him not even ten minutes ago. 

“And why don’t you want him to paint you?” Xiao tenses, cursing himself for forgetting that, for as well as Xiao knows him, the wanderer knew Xiao just as well.

“I don’t recall telling you that I didn’t want him to,” Xiao responds carefully after not answering for just a moment too long, and the wanderer rolls his eyes. 

“No, but you make it seem so with the way you told me he wants to. If he had, you would have said as much.” Xiao finds himself raising an eyebrow. The wanderer ignores it. “You’re refusing him for some reason, aren’t you? Something stupid, I bet. Something like fear.” The man gasps suddenly, snapping his fingers in tandem, and Xiao knows he’s been fully figured out. For as much as the wanderer’s keen mind caused Xiao irritation, it was also one of the things Xiao liked about this man. He made it hard for Xiao to recede into himself like he was known to do. “You’re afraid of what he’ll make if he paints you.”

Xiao doesn’t deign the man’s almost smug face with a response, though that in itself was response enough.

The wanderer laughed, though it wasn’t quite mocking. It almost sounded…envious, somehow. 

When he finishes laughing, he wipes his eyes of nonexistent tears. “Now everything makes sense." The statement confuses Xiao, but when he looks at the wanderer questioningly, the man isn't looking at him to catch it, so his question goes unanswered. "It’s painfully obvious how upset he is by your refusal.” He says then, and Xiao doesn’t comment that it wouldn’t be obvious to anyone who didn’t know him, which was a rather large amount. “So, how many times has he asked you?” The adeptus sighs wearily. 

“Over five times how. He hasn’t asked since the last time I refused him.” The leaden weight that had settled in his chest then still had yet to leave, and it almost felt like the wanderer could see it with the way he scrutinized Xiao. 

“So, what are you afraid of? I mean, what do you think you'd see if he were to paint you? You clearly want to say yes to him, so what’s holding you back?” Xiao knows what, but he’s never said it out loud before, and he has the rather irrational fear that saying it aloud would make it more real. Then, he’d truly have to face the fact that he is a coward running from his faults. He shakes his head instead of answering, and the wanderer sighs. 

“That’s fine. I think I can figure out what you’re afraid of anyway.” The man pushes himself off the railing, finally turning his piercing gaze away from Xiao. “All I have to say is, you should know best that regret is a self-inflicted wound that seldom fully heals.” He turns and starts to walk away. “But, it’s your choice, so you’ll just have to live with it for the rest of your long life.”

“How am I to know that you haven’t already painted me without my knowledge as you do with the cavalry captain?” Xiao asks Albedo one day when the man is painting the scenery of the view from the cliff overlooking Luhua Pool. The alchemist had come to Wangshu Inn, requesting that Xiao accompany him. He didn’t specify why, but Xiao didn’t question him, relieved that Albedo hadn’t let his last refusal drive him away from the adeptus completely. Xiao wasn’t sure what’d he do if he never saw Albedo again. 

“I have no real way of proving that to you, so all I can ask is that you trust me. The reason I want to paint you is very different from the reason I paint Kaeya.” Albedo responds, and Xiao raises an eyebrow. The alchemist sets his paintbrush down, his painting only partly done, but he puts it aside in favor of looking at the yaksha beside him, whose arms were crossed almost protectively in front of himself, and his face was twisted with uncertainty. Albedo’s fingers twitch with the urge to pick up his pencil and sketch the sight, but he fights it valiantly. 

“Didn’t you imply that both the cavalry captain and I were ‘tragedies’, as you put it?” Xiao asks finally, and when he looks at Albedo, he’s startled to find the man looking at him so tenderly it makes something in his chest hurt. Albedo nods his head in agreement. 

“Yes, but I want you to bear witness to what I can develop on the canvas if you were to allow me. With Kaeya, I merely wish to try and accurately convey the sadness that sits inside him, and I can’t imagine him seeing my artwork being of any benefit to him. I believe it would only remind him of things he wishes to forget.” Albedo divulges this information easily, and Xiao listens intently, as he always would when it came to the alchemist. “With you, Xiao, I only want to show you how I see you.” This stiffens Xiao’s shoulders.

“And how do you know this painting won’t also be something I don’t want to see? How do you see me? ” He’s almost afraid to hear the answer. 

Albedo thinks for a moment. “I think the only way to answer these questions is to look at the painting once I finish it. I can’t say I’m the best with words, so trying to describe it verbally would be a fruitless endeavor. That’s more of Kaeya and Aether’s thing.” Xiao lets a small smile quirk the corner of his lip, and Albedo smiles in tandem with him when he sees it. 

“I think you underestimate yourself. Not just anyone would understand your sentiment of ‘I enjoy painting tragedies’ .”

“And that is exactly my point. Kaeya and Aether have a way of making people understand with just their words. I prefer demonstration to spoken word when it comes to getting my point across. It’s worked for me thus far.” Xiao’s lips twist as he thinks, turning the words over and over in his mind until the silence is as dragged out as the thought itself. He’s wrestled with himself for so long, fought his fear, and very rarely was he victorious against it. He remembers, once again, Aether and Kaeya’s portraits. Their haunted eyes, the deep-seated sorrow. Was that truly how he saw them? How did he manage to parse so much from just looking at them? And what did he see in Xiao, if not everything the adeptus has attempted to hide thus far? He crumples under his secrets, whereas Albedo seems to have no problem wearing them as openly as the mark on his neck he’s forced to bear. Xiao felt like he could only wish to be as uninhibited. 

“If…if I do allow you to paint me, what do you think you’ll make?” Xiao finally asks after some time being caught in the emotions he always forces down. They catch in his throat, and he has to work to make the words not come out shaky. Albedo shakes his head.

“I don’t know. I never plan the artwork I do in my downtime beforehand, and I never will. Whatever comes to me first will be what I put on the canvas. I only ever plan for the commissions I sometimes receive.” He says, unwavering, and Xiao knows this already. In all the times that Xiao has accompanied him on his walks through Liyue, whenever Albedo did pull out his sketchbook or set up an easel, there was never any forethought to it. Albedo worked off of his interest and the spontaneity that came with it. It was something Xiao enjoyed about him, despite how much his own personality would claim otherwise. 

The curiosity that had been steadily building since Albedo first mentioned painting him bubbles in Xiao, rapidly approaching the surface and popping just beneath his skin. He almost trembles with it, he’s never allowed himself to feel so much, his mind usually always too occupied by the screams of tortured souls to even think about whatever emotion he might actually be feeling in the moment. 

Taking in a shaky breath, he forces himself to look at Albedo, unsure of when he even looked away. Albedo looks back at him like he knows Xiao’s soul inside and out, and is waiting for the adeptus to come to terms with the fact. He raises his eyebrow inquisitively, and Xiao knows what he’s asking. He’s known it innately the entire time, and he lets acceptance settle over him. Like the first time he met Albedo, he allows himself this indulgence.

Xiao finally agrees.

The wanderer gazes at the painting before him, eyes wide with a twisting feeling in his chest. 

There is a collar of chains settled around Xiao’s neck, one leading to an unknown source out of frame, another connecting him to the being before him, and he stares Death in the face. Death stares back, a ghastly skeleton with a crown of lumidouce bells and romaritime flowers settled atop its head and an unforgiving ‘gaze’, its pale bones standing out harshly against the dark background. Tears darkened by blood form a steady stream out of its hollow eye sockets, and its mouth is agape as smoke curls outwards, reaching toward Xiao, whose mouth is shut solemnly, lips pressed tight together. Xiao looks at death with not a tear in his eye but the most anguish Scara had ever seen someone carry. It crams a knife into his chest and wedges into the space where his lungs should be, and it forces all the memories he once erased from his mind back to the forefront. The chain around Xiao’s neck is pulled taut like it is trying to force him backward, but Xiao almost seems to lean toward the skeleton, and it’s here that Scara identifies a second emotion in Xiao’s eyes: beseechment. The adeptus seemed to be begging for something, but Scara couldn’t tell what. Was it the reprieve death could provide? Or was it the soul of a loved one lost to it? Scara wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

It’s a long time before the wanderer finally looks away from the painting, and when he does, he finds that he’ll never be able to look at it again.

“What do you think?” Albedo asks from next to him, still staring at the painting, and Scara wonders how when every second he looked at the painting it felt like he was being torn to pieces. He doesn’t answer for a good few moments, and Albedo doesn’t question it. He seems to know the effect it’s had on Scara. The wanderer had been rendered speechless. 

When he can answer, his voice comes out quiet. “It's one of the most devastating artworks I’ve ever seen.” And he meant it. Having lived as long as he has, he’s come across a great many art pieces, but they all paled in comparison to the hand of this single alchemist, in his opinion. He’s not sure he’s ever seen a sight so beautiful.

“Thank you,” Albedo says, glancing at Scara knowingly, which the wanderer pointedly ignores. 

Xiao looks death in the face and death looks back, grim and unmerciful. 

Beside him, Albedo has a steadying hand on his back, and he looks nowhere but at Xiao, gauging his every reaction, his every expression, every breath he takes. His gaze, it’s heavy and searing, and Xiao is trapped in place as he stares at the painting before him.

“So…how is it? I hope I measured up to your expectations.” Albedo says after a long while. Xiao is still stuck gaping at the painting, and he’s not sure how long it’ll be before he can look away. He’s even more unsure of how long it’ll be until he can look at it again when he does finally look away.

“I could never hope to impose any expectations in the first place because I knew you’d surpass them. I know very well of your skill and maintain no doubts.” A smile forms on Albedo’s lips and it grows exponentially, though Xiao misses it this time, still very much entranced by the painting. 

“Then what was keeping you from allowing me to paint you?” He asks, and this makes Xiao tear his eyes away to look at the alchemist. He hesitates to say his next words for a moment, but the image of the painting fresh in his mind keeps him from not saying anything at all. 

“I was afraid.” He admits, and it sounds foolish to him, now that he’s said it aloud. Albedo tilts his head to the side confusedly.

“Afraid? Why?"

“I was afraid that your brilliance would reveal everything about myself I was afraid to face, which it did, so now I wonder why I was afraid in the first place.” Xiao can’t quite meet his gaze, feeling a sort of guilt rise within him after confessing the reason behind his many refusals, which he’s sure had upset Albedo at some point, even if the alchemist never explicitly said so. 

Rather than being dismayed by the information, Albedo only nods sagely. “I think I can understand that. I’ve often heard that people go their entire lives running away from fears instead of facing them, no matter how miniscule they may be, so I don’t blame you for thinking in such a way. I imagine my artworks of Kaeya and Aether only further reassured this fear.” He rationalizes, and Xiao feels himself become weak with relief. He leans against the hand Albedo has on his back, and Albedo smiles softly at him. 

“Thank you,” Xiao says earnestly, and he hopes Albedo understands everything he can’t quite find the right words to convey at the moment. Forcing himself to look at Albedo again, he’s met with the man's gentle smile, and he finally lets himself smile back.