Chapter Text
He could bring to mind each and every time Master locked him up as a punishment for doing anything she deemed wrong. She would choose an abandoned barn or house in the city or village they stayed in. Reflect on your mistakes, she would hiss before casting an invisible seal around the outer walls of the building—something so exceptionally secure that couldn’t be penetrated even after he used all his knowledge to figure out its weakness.
The stench coming from the piles of rubbish left behind would be nauseating, but he could easily disable his sense to smell. Rats and other crawling insects would surround him as if he were a statue made of rock sugar, but he could dispose of them with a flick of his finger. What was unbearable had always been the solitude. Master would rarely leave him for just a few hours. Depending on the trouble he caused, it could range from one night to several days.
As somebody who didn’t need food nor sleep to function, what should he do in a confined space with nothing to look at and nobody to speak to? He never understood what it meant to “reflect on his mistakes” because Master would be furious over something as simple as him not comforting her when she got injured. Once, they were heading home from their friend’s funeral, and she blabbered on and on about how he was a fool for not being affected by the loss.
He had tried lying dormant to pass the time. After waking him up, Master decided to prolong the punishment, so he became too afraid to do it again. It was a cycle that made him want to die. He knew how to gouged out the crystal in his chest and crush it before he lost consciousness, but then he realized that oblivion would be worse than receiving Master’s inexplicable anger. After all, he had seen the marvels of this world—all the colors of the lands that changed with the seasons and a million other beautiful things he could savor.
But Master kept getting frustrated with him. One night, Master had had enough and dragged him to a cave in the middle of nowhere. There’s no hope left for you. Now I should carry this guilt to my grave, she had coldly stated with a gaze more sinister than what she had shown even to her greatest enemy. He didn’t get the chance to question what she meant when she raised a hand and shouted an alchemy spell—one that he was aware was used to incapacitate her handiworks.
It was his last memory of Master; the way she looked at him like he was the most revolting being to have ever existed, the uneven rock spikes hanging on the cave ceiling above her head, and the blazing yellow light emitted from her palm.
He wouldn’t have recalled what occurred centuries ago if Master’s perfect creation hadn’t stabbed a dagger through his abdomen in a surprise attack and paralyzed him. Knowing that his internal bleeding would be healed in an instant, Albedo—how Master’s perfect creation had been gracefully named—hoisted him on his back and brought him into a cave in the southwestern part of Dragonspine. Even more tyrannical than Master, Albedo hurled him inside a glass dome that could only fit four to five human adults.
“Did you prepare this for me?” He was the first to speak, touching the glass to observe the material. He murmured a spell that should break anything solid, but nothing budged. Undoubtedly, there was a reason why the ever so brilliant creation had put him here.
“I didn’t want to stuff you back inside Durin’s belly. Wait here until I know what to do with you, and don’t bother trying to escape. You can’t use your alchemy skills here.” The answer he received confirmed that the container indeed had been constructed for him, but the rest of the words fell flat. He knew this was just a tiny part of a bigger plan, which should end in his demise.
“Did Master teach you this? Locking someone up when you want to reprimand them?” he spat.
“Teach me? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The deadpanned response indicated that Master had only treated him this way.
Thoughts that weren’t there when Master shoved him to and fro flooded through his mind—visions of ways to eliminate Albedo as soon as he managed to release himself from this cage. One thing hadn’t changed since the beginning of his awakening; Albedo irritated him, like a blemish on his skin that wasn’t supposed to be there, a scar that could be erased at his will. Shouldn’t the early bird get the worm? Albedo shouldn’t be the one having a life. It was supposed to be him.
He chuckled, watching Albedo step out of the cave. Rock spikes hung above their heads, and his smile faded when he remembered his last memory of Master was actually a wish that those rock spikes had fallen on her and buried her alive. If only it could happen to Albedo instead.
His wound closed long before the blood seeping through his shirt dried up. It was only a patch on his stomach, but it still smelled a little like a mix of dirt and rotten egg. He could do what he always did—deactivating his ability to identify scents—but the refreshing aroma of winter and pinecones should overtake everything else. So he decided to remove his coat and tie it around his waist, which immediately concealed his distress.
The following morning, a squirrel strayed into the cave and stood in front of him. They blinked at each other like they could read minds, but he was weirded out when it seemed to have taken a great interest in him. As if trying to determine the reason a person was stuck here, it circled and sniffed him for about a minute before sprinting away. After sunset, he curled up and watched the sudden blizzard striking down some trees through the gaps on the walls. The calamitous noise lasted for more than two hours.
On the second day, the harsh wind carried a bunch of dry leaves and broken branches before his eyes. Nothing else was new to amuse him. When three days passed by, he couldn’t prevent the feeling of desolation from washing over him and reminding him of how better it was when Master was around. At least somebody was waiting for him, and there was a guarantee he would get out soon. Perhaps Master’s perfect creation was a step ahead of him; hence he was thrown away. It had been a while since he thought about dying again.
“Hello?” A voice echoed in the cave in the afternoon of day four. Before he could react, the so-called Traveler and her little floating companion showed up at the entrance. Both of their eyes widened in awe. “You’re really here!”
He went stiff, straightening his back and folding up his legs. The traveler’s name was Lumine, and her companion was Paimon. From overhearing the conversations in the mountains, he concluded that Albedo favored the two of them a lot more than his most trusted assistants. He had never understood why, but nevertheless, his guard was up. These people were on the same side, so if Albedo planned to hurt him, Lumine and Paimon would be the same.
Lumine walked closer to him, and Paimon followed closely behind. Once she lifted her light blue coat and kneeled in front of the glass dome, she initiated, “We must frighten you, but we don’t mean any harm. Albedo has something to take care of in the city, so we thought of checking on you. Are you okay?”
Was she asking about his condition? Why would she do that? He couldn’t comprehend her words, but he had learned that humans wouldn’t do something without any ulterior motive, so he balled his hands into fists. He gritted his teeth and shot a glare at her, ready to defend himself if she did anything remotely questionable. She heaved a sigh and smiled before standing up and pressing the wall between them, treating it like a mural to appraise. A moment later, she sat back down and crossed her legs.
“Albedo also mentioned that he’s the only person who can break this dome. Seems like it’s true,” she said as her gaze landed on his lower body. “Are you wearing your coat there to hide your tainted shirt? Hmm, you won’t be able to create clothes. I heard this dome nullifies your power.”
Then, they stared at one another. They had interacted once, about a week ago when Paimon talked about gathering some Starsilver for Albedo. Her deep golden eyes were quite memorable even in the gloomy weather of the snow-capped land. Right now, when everything was brighter and warmer from the sunlight coming through the sporadic crevices of the cave, he noticed the pattern of her irises resembled a sunflower. When was the last time he stumbled upon one?
“What are you doing here?” he blurted out. He genuinely couldn’t find a reason for anyone other than Albedo to be here.
Her smile deepened. “I told you. To check on you. I would have done it days ago, but I had just gotten some free time.”
“But why do you need to check on me?”
“There happened to be a snowstorm last night. That was silly of me to assume that Albedo’s work would be torn down that easily, but I thought maybe some parts of the cave would come apart and hurt you.”
His heartbeat quickened. He wasn’t sure what could be the cause, so he replied with the only thing he could think about, “But why?”
“Ugh, why do you keep repeating the same question? Why do you look so bewildered?” Paimon squeaked, placing both hands on her hips. “We’re just trying to be kind, you know! Sometimes people want to do good because they feel like it!”
“Oh.” He didn’t know what else to say. When Master scolded him, this would also be his response. If Master yelled louder than Paimon did, it would be an apology and a swear that he wouldn’t repeat the same thing. Paimon’s tone was more like a hurried pedestrian who told him not to block the alley. She wasn’t disappointed in him like Master always was.
But people wanting to do good just for the sake of being good? He knew it was far from the truth.
“Paimon, don’t be rude like that,” Lumine groaned, frowning at her friend.
Paimon huffed. “How am I rude? He’s the one being complicated for no—”
“Shush, Paimon.” Lumine rose from the ground and showed him another smile. He wondered why she kept doing it when nothing was funny about the situation. “It’s getting late. Paimon and I have commissions to finish. We’ll try to visit you again tomorrow, but earlier of course. Glad to see that you’re all right,” she added.
He could tell that it was a promise—one without a requirement. Master also promised him plenty of things, like buying him a new pair of shoes, but only after he could develop a functioning weapon in minutes or obey her other orders. This whole thing was different. Unexpected and odd. Lumine might not be mad if he refused to meet her for whatever reason there could be. He was about to ask if she didn’t need anything in return, but he changed his mind lest Paimon roared at him again, and Lumine grew upset as well.
“See you later,” Lumine muttered before turning around and walking away. Unlike the squirrel who left without the slightest care and hesitation, it took her six steps to stop in her tracks, look over her shoulder, and grin at him. “I almost forgot. What’s your name? Your real name.”
His heart thumped strangely like it did a moment ago. “I don’t—I don’t have one.”
She parted her mouth, seemingly surprised by the revelation, before pulling the corners of her lips once more. “Okay. Take care of yourself.”
The second she vanished from his sight, he remembered how he wanted to kill her too. She wasn’t a threat until she proved her capability to distinguish him from Albedo. It was only now that he became curious; how was someone who didn’t even live in Mondstadt able to do it when a hundred others who saw Albedo on a daily basis couldn’t? What kind of relationship did she have with Albedo beyond the information he had gathered so far? There was a knot in his stomach when he failed to come to a single conclusion.
It was his twelfth run counting stone chippings scattered outside the glass dome when Lumine and Paimon walked into the cave, exclaiming “good morning” and waving their hands like they had been friends for some time. Each of them held a toasted bread with a red jam on it, presumably raspberries or strawberries. Lumine’s was half-eaten, while Paimon only needed to bite hers once to devour everything. Beaming with delight, they seemed to be content about something. He wondered if it was the food.
“We’re here, as promised!” Paimon announced, and he was quite taken aback by it. So it was truly a promise on their behalf?
“It’s freezing outside. I don’t feel warm enough.” Lumine pushed aside her coat and sat in front of him. As always, Paimon was floating beside her. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine,” he said, hugging his knees. The confusing tightness in his chest returned, albeit milder.
“Oh, I forgot. Albedo told me that he can practically walk barefoot in Dragonspine because he can’t feel extreme cold and heat. You must be the same.” She paused to finish her bread before showing him a broader smile than yesterday. “Also, you must be aware that I’ve been informed of what’s going on. Albedo told me everything.”
“Everything?” he asked.
“Yes. What happened to you in the past. What led to you being here—everything,” she elaborated. “There are some things that are a mystery to us. For starters, if it’s okay for me to know, when did get out of Durin’s belly?”
His fingers twitched. About four months ago, the answer was on the tip of his tongue, but he held back. Anything he said would be passed on to Albedo, so he considered the advantages and disadvantages that would happen if he was honest. Four months was a short amount of time. Albedo could think that he hadn’t learned enough about the new world and underestimated him. On the other hand, Albedo might see him as a more significant threat because he had done some mad stuff that could split the mountain range in two.
“It’s all right. You don’t have to tell me. I understand that you’re wary of me,” Lumine said, interrupting his concern, perhaps also alleviating it—he simply couldn’t choose. A lot of thoughts floated in his mind. None of them were clear, but one thing for sure; the more she explained herself, the harder she was to read. Most importantly, he still couldn’t understand what she intended to achieve by being here.
“How about this?” Paimon chimed in. “Have you gone to the city? Have you always stayed in Dragonspine after waking up? Where have you been hiding?”
Lumine glared sideways at Paimon. “Don’t bombard him with questions like that. I don’t think anyone will appreciate—”
“Why are you talking so casually to me? Is this part of your revenge?” He went straight to the point. The two ladies tilted their heads toward him, gaping at him like how Master did almost every day, whether they were in the wild or sitting in their inn room. However, Master would often call him worthless afterward, while Lumine and Paimon ended up knitting their brows, looking somewhat worried.
“Huh? What? Revenge? How did you come up with that? What did we say that made you think that way?” Paimon glanced at Lumine before staring back at him. “L-listen, we’re friendly people! Uh, I know words alone can’t convince you, but let’s just say that we’re trying to understand you so we can find the best solution to your problem!”
He frowned. They wanted to understand him to find the best solution to his problem? It didn’t make any sense. It was like listening to an adventurer who raved about a recipe of a dish he had never seen before.
“Albedo told us he doesn’t know what to do with you. He can’t simply desert you, but he doesn’t know where to keep you either,” Lumine took over. Her gaze was sharper as she leaned forward as if trying to whisper a secret. “It’s reasonable if you’re suspicious of us or even hate us. Your Master didn’t treat you well. I heard she was a strict and demanding person.”
His stomach churned. Of course, Albedo would inform her about Master, but hearing someone explicitly mention his master’s existence did something to him. It was an unpleasant sensation that was difficult to describe. The closest thing he could compare this to was when he accidentally ate a spoiled berry right after waking up and vomited it out. A foul aftertaste lasted for a while, and he was on the brink of slicing his tongue off if it could ease his struggle.
“I know you’re a kind soul,” Lumine continued. “You don’t actually want to kill anyone. Maybe all you want is—”
“Shut up!” he snapped, silencing everyone in the cave. Discomfort crept in him, reaching his senses, so he turned his head away in the hope of calming himself down. This was awful. He wanted to cut and cauterize the parts of him that had caused this.
“O-oh. Did I cross a line? I’m sorry,” Lumine stammered. From his peripheral, he watched her standing up. “I’ll come again tomorrow. Please take care of yourself. I’m extremely sorry.”
He should tell her to leave him alone, but the plea was stuck in his throat. His brain was boiling hot like he was under the summer heat. It shouldn’t be possible in the eternal winter of Dragonspine, but it did. Albedo might punish him longer like Master did if he opted to sleep, but he would rather endure a month of solitude than attempt to decipher Lumine and Paimon’s real intention and all these feelings of aggravation and obscurity they carried with them.
As he threw himself on the ground and closed his eyes, he recalled what Paimon said yesterday. Sometimes people want to do good because they feel like it. Somehow, he wondered if it was true. He had seen people who seemed happy being around one another, but he always doubted it would last. There didn’t seem to be a case in this world that would go on forever. If Lumine and Paimon knew more about him and found plenty of things he couldn’t do, surely they would get sick of him too.
“Wake up! Hey, wake up!”
The sound was loud yet tender, so it was easy for his brain to register that Master wasn’t the one disturbing his rest. He blinked as the dim light hit his eyes. The moment the person stopped calling him was when he sat up with one hand braced against the ground. Slowly, he stared at the space in front of him. He should have anticipated this, but it still startled him to find Lumine standing there, wearing a longer coat of the same color as before. Paimon was nowhere to be seen.
“Good morning.” Lumine plopped down outside of the glass dome as usual. “You slept for so long. It’s been three days.”
“Three days?” he asked, still trying to gain his full consciousness. His voice was weak, so it was akin to a whisper.
“I came here two days ago, but you were asleep. I came again yesterday, and I realized you hadn’t changed your position. I asked Albedo about it. He said that you must have deliberately shut yourself down, so he advised me to wake you up normally—” She trailed off before gasping. “Hold on. Has it been two or three days?”
There was something about the way she acted all shocked and puzzled that intrigued him. Calmly, he answered, “I slept when you left, so it’s been three days for me.”
Her face softened up. “Really? Did I upset you that much?”
Perhaps resting did help him more than just numbing him down because he could see things better now. He remembered that not once had Master ever done this to him. There were times when he was reluctant to read a page of an alchemy formula because Master had just released him out of a barn filled with cow manure, but she berated him instead of asking about what could be the reason for his silence. But even before all this, Lumine had been inquiring about his well-being, including his name.
His name.
When he came to life, Master told him that, despite being shaped to mimic real human beings, he only deserved to be officially named as one once he behaved like them. Master said he wasn’t able to do it. He was too reticent, too slow, too unimaginative, too quiet, too cold, too bitter, too distant—Master had never praised him, not even after he successfully recreated her mechanical device at first try. However, there was a name that she frequently used. Something other than “hey” and “you”.
Lumine brought her face closer, studying him until her nose almost touched the glass wall. “You might wonder why Paimon isn’t here. She can be a bit overwhelming to have around, don’t you think? So I told her to leave the two of us alone. Isn’t this better?”
“Project One,” he muttered.
She was silent for a split second before replying, “Project One?”
He nodded. “You asked for my name before. Master used to call me that, so that must be my name.”
“What?” Lumine raised her brows before shaking her head frantically. “Oh, no, that’s not a name! You aren’t supposed to name someone like that! For example, Albedo’s name—”
A piece in him broke upon perceiving Albedo’s name, so he cut in, “I’m not him.”
“Oh. Of course. I was—right. I was just saying that ‘Subject One’ isn’t a proper name to give anyone, but let’s not discuss this. You don’t need to worry about your name. It isn’t too important.” Her voice was muffled before she repositioned her legs and let out a soft chuckle. “Anyway, how are you feeling today?”
“I’m good,” he replied, watching her lips a little longer. Seeing her somehow warmed his heart. It was the complete opposite of how burned out he felt the last time they talked. At this moment, everything seemed peaceful and endurable. Could it be that she was right about Paimon’s absence being one of the causes?
“That’s nice. So, uh, can I ask you something? But can you promise not to be mad at me?”
He wasn’t sure how to respond, but he nodded again. He could recall yesterday’s questions; when did he get out of Durin’s belly, whether he had visited the city, had he always stayed in Dragonspine, and where he had been hiding. She was probably going to ask him one of these.
“What do you want to do the most?”
His heart skipped a beat. “Huh?”
“Everyone has a dream, no matter how frivolous it is. What do you want to do the most in your life? I want to know that,” she explained. Her smile hadn’t left her lips.
He looked down at his fingers. His nails were longer than he would like them to be, but he couldn’t be distracted by something irrelevant when he immediately thought about the mesmerizing sight outside this cave. He had reached the summit of Dragonspine and seen what lay beyond the mountain range; hills covered in grass, colorful meadows in the neighboring nations, and coastlines of oceans that seemed endless and transcendental. He would like to feel the sand, water, and everything else under his bare feet.
“Maybe I would like to travel the world,” he admitted.
“Ah, that’s wonderful,” she said.
He met her eyes. “Wonderful?”
“Yes. It’s realistic and achievable. A lot of people have the same goal as you.” She glanced up at the ceiling, lingered up there for a moment, then looked back at him. “I’m not sure if you know this about me, but I haven’t stopped traveling. I was in Inazuma a month ago, but I’ll return soon to see the upcoming spring festival. That nation is covered with cherry blossom trees. It’s like walking in a dreamland.”
“I-I see.” His response was automatic, but he imagined how the unfamiliar landscape would be. Dragonspine was engulfed in snow that buried his ankles and barren pine trees that weren’t all that pretty, no matter which angle he saw it from. It was worse in Khaenri’ah—everything was gloomy and dull like it belonged to the deceased. Even Mondstadt City itself was quite monotonous with its brick defensive walls and residential wooden shingles. What would it be like to take an afternoon stroll under those cherry blossom trees?
“So I was right about you. You’re just a lost child, not understanding any better because you didn’t get the chance to develop as a person. I’m sorry this happened to you.” Her smile vanished as her demeanor became more serious. “And I must be frank with you. Albedo isn’t evil. He’s just unsure about letting you out in case you try to attack us again, but I get you. I’ll find a way to convince him. Trust me, will you?”
Something in his chest twinged. It was an assurance, not a question. Just like how it was a promise to visit him again, not an empty talk that would be forgotten within minutes. He noticed how his entire body felt warmer, not only his heart or his cheeks—almost like he became less weary. His brain searched for comparison to this sensation. He couldn’t find one, but he knew he shouldn’t bother trying because the result would stay the same. Only the person in front of him had ever made him feel this way.
“What’s with that sad look on your face? Everything will be okay!” she ensured, placing a hand against the glass wall. For the first time in his life, he wished the barrier hadn’t existed so he could touch her skin. He had seen it before; a man holding a woman’s hand, and it granted them some sort of elation that could be deduced from their beaming faces. For some reason, he thought about trying it with her.
He chose to follow his urge. He put his hand on the glass wall, on the other side of hers, and locked their eyes. A sentence then came out of his lips ever so naturally, “Thank you, and I’m sorry, Lumine.”
“Oh.” Lumine seemed stupefied, but it didn’t take long for her to raise another smile.
One thing he didn’t speak about was how it was Master’s one and only lesson that wasn’t all about alchemy and the history of the world. Back when he was only a few days old and Master hadn’t criticized everything he did, she had advised him; You must say ‘thank you’ when someone does something nice to you and ‘I’m sorry’ when you believe you’ve wronged them. Today was the first time he did it for the right reasons, not because he feared being torn apart and left behind.
After a moment’s respite, Lumine took a deep breath and stood up. He had memorized that it was her sign to go, so he quickly spoke before she could, “Are you coming again tomorrow?”
“Of course,” she affirmed. “I’m glad you’re willing to talk to me. Hang in there, all right?”
Pursing his lips, he clawed at the glass wall as if wanting to grasp her hand when she had already pulled away. What was this feeling about? Today, he didn’t want to part with her even though a while ago, he wouldn’t mind if she had fallen off the cliff on her way out. He even wished she hadn’t returned so he didn’t need to experience the things he might never be able to understand. If he had to put it into words, then there must be something soothing and reassuring about her presence.
He chose to sleep again after she left because he couldn’t stand waiting for her. She woke him up in the morning and told him about heading to Liyue for a week or two to participate in their annual Lantern Rite Festival before boarding a ship to Inazuma in early spring. Many invitations came her way from many friends she had made throughout her journey, so she was bound to miss several things. Good thing Paimon was there to remind her.
The next day, she talked about meeting and slaying corrupted dragons in order to release them from their sufferings. One in Mondstadt, one in Liyue, and there were some smaller types called vishaps, although she wasn’t sure if they were categorized as dragons. She described climbing the tallest stone mountains in Liyue to collect qingxin flowers. The market price for one stalk was high enough for ten loaves of bread. One time, she got lazy and spent an entire week gathering herbs.
He listened and listened, and she had never stopped asking if he was doing well today and telling him how she was still persuading Albedo to let him out. At the one-week mark, he almost begged her to stay when she was about to leave. How could his heart change so much after a few meetings? So he realized that Lumine chose to be with him because she enjoyed being with him. This must be what kindness was. This must be what it felt like to be wanted.