Work Text:
Albedo attached the head of a statue onto its torso before stepping back to behold his greatest masterpiece. An ivory statue of a woman stood on a dais. Still unfinished, she lacked arms and paint. The curve of her shoulders, her toned legs, every crevice and rise of her hair Albedo knew by heart. The woman smiled, her lips turning upwards and crinkles by her eyes. Her nude figure glowed in the candlelight.
Albedo held a hand by her cheek but didn’t let himself touch. “You are Lumine, as luminous as the stars. Never in the rest of my life shall I come close to creating anything as breathtaking as you.”
“Wasting your time again, I see.”
Flinching, Albedo backed into his work table. His mallet and chisel clattered against the tile floor. He turned around. Half-finished statues and tools were spread about the storeroom. The mosaic tile pattern running along the wall was almost nearly buried under sketches Albedo had tacked up.
Rhinedottir stood by the entrance. As was common she wore a white peplos. a large wool garment wrapped around the body that was belted and pinned at the shoulders. It billowed around her. With narrowed eyes and sharp facial features, Rhinedottir’s presence was as cutting as glass. She tsked. “But I’ve come to expect to be disappointed by you.”
Albedo felt as if stung. He fought to keep any reaction from showing: no lip twitching, no shrinking back—nothing.
Arms crossed, she strode across the room to stand beside him. Her long white hair was plaited back and pinned with gold pins. Her necklace laden with rubies sparkled in the candlelight. Like all high-class women, Rhinedottir wore white powder made from lead on her face to mask any unappealing suntan. “What have I told you about making statues of ivory and marble? They are not as effective as a conduit of elemental energy as the primordial chalk I created you from.” She looked down her nose at him. With her glittering jewelry and pale red eyes assessing him, she looked as formidable as the warrior goddess. “Surely you’re not entertaining thoughts of being capable of surpassing me.”
Eyes on the ground, Albedo moved his head a millimeter to each side.
“As you shouldn’t. You’re only a couple of years old. You’re decades too early to approach my skill, especially if you have the propensity to slack off on your duties.”
Albedo was nearing his fifth year since his creation, but he didn’t correct her. Although from day one, Albedo possessed adult mental and physical capacities, Rhinedottir treated him as a child, only occasionally letting him run experiments or accompany her to domains.
Albedo fetched several scrolls from a decorative vase and handed it to her. “I transcribed copies of Khaenri’ah texts, created a detailed clay model of the whole human anatomy, and determined clearwater jade and crystal chunk compositions discrepancies.” The past few months, Albedo pulled off many all-nighters to spare the time to sculpt Lumine.
Face impassive, Rhinedottir flitted her gaze over his work. Albedo held his breath. She wrapped up the scroll with deft, clipped movements before appraising the statue. She scoffed at its toned form, and short, masculine hair. “Perhaps I should allow you to mingle with the humans in the village on occasion. Then you could discern the esteemed from the rubbish.” She thrust the scrolls into Albedo’s chest. “Emulating humans is pointless. They are beneath you, nor worth the breath to speak to.”
Constrained by that philosophy, Albedo only interacted with humans when buying supplies or while traveling. People on the island barely knew his name. He was the town pariah.
“Let alone,” Rhinedottir continued in her low-pitched voice, “you make use of that Vision of yours to fabricate them.” Rhinedottir’s lip curled, the most emotion she ever allowed herself to show. “Just because we dared to pursue forbidden knowledge, those divine parasites laid my homeland to waste. One day, I shall mold you into a god of my own, learn the truth of this world, and write my own myths.”
Whipping around, Rhinedottir headed towards the entrance. “Tomorrow morning I’ll be departing to Natlan. I should return by summer’s end.” It was scandalous for a woman to travel alone, but Rhinedottir hardly cared for societal norms. “By then I expect you will transcribe all of my notes and the scrolls in the library, summon life from your sketches, and transmute one life form into another.” Peplos billowing, she disappeared upstairs.
Albedo could feel the sweat sliding down his face. Outside birds craned. Exhaling, he placed the scrolls on the table and turned to Lumine. She greeted him with her serene air and knowing smile.
Albedo matched her smile. “So then, it’s just you and me again.”
As he picked up the fallen tools, he couldn’t help but wonder. If Lumine drew breath, what would she think of Rhinedottir and himself? What kind of person would she be?
The following day Albedo studied Lumine and asked himself, “Did I make a mistake?” His gaze ran along her shorter hair and toned form. A million times from first sketch to sculpting he considered molding Lumine into a more conventional idea of beauty: a lithe form and long hair pinned with hair accessories.
“I don’t know…” Exhaling, Albedo stepped close and ran his fingers over her wavy hair. He shivered. “Close-cropped hair embodies defiance. Your tone suggests you could defend yourself with tongue or blade like a warrior of Sparta. And yet you hold yourself with such elegance and grace.” Albedo swallowed. “You take orders from no one. You’re… free. Blessed by the god Venti.” Despite her tough appearance, she still smiled fondly at the viewer. Albedo returned her smile.
To keep from being distracted, Albedo should have taken Lumine out to the courtyard with his other pieces; his solar isotoma could move statues with ease. Outside she’d be exposed to the elements. No one passed by his house on the fringes of the city state, Ventus, and would see her. Albedo wanted Lumine to stay close. Have her watch over him as he worked.
Over the next few weeks after spending the day studying alchemy, Albedo would sculpt one of Lumine’s arms. He was supposed to work on her for only an hour before sleeping, but often midnight would come and go, and he still hadn’t retired yet. One night, Albedo sculpted by candlelight in the early morning hours. The rhythmic sound of the chisel and mallet chipping soothed the soul. Beside him, the candle burned low. The open shutters of the small, high windows let in cool night air. Bugs buzzed around.
Groaning, Albedo stood and stretched. He rubbed off ink from his cheek and brushed marble shavings of his chiton. The thigh-length garment was pinned over one shoulder while the other lay bare. His Geo Vision hung off the rope around his waist. Dirt caked his bare feet.
Albedo searched through the large jars of food lining the back wall. The dark storehouse kept the fruit and meat cool from the unrelenting heat. Countless times Albedo tried summoning the courage to ask Rhinedottir about studying in her workshop—even just a corner of it—but he couldn’t. Until then it was food, sculpting tools, and alchemic devices sharing the same space, day after day.
Chewing on a nectarine, he began sealing the jars. A blur of movement jumped onto a nearby jar. “What the—? Hey!”
A large orange cat pounced on Albedo’s hand, knocking the nectarine free. Hissing, it grabbed the fruit and ate it in a corner.
Glaring, Albedo held his bleeding hand. “Where did you come from? You better not have marked any of my statues outside.”
The cat watched Albedo with narrowed blue eyes. In the candlelight, Albedo could just make out a scar over its right eye and matted fur.
Albedo sighed. After opening up another jar, he tossed a scrap of meat in its direction. The cat purred. It carried the meat over to one of Albedo’s statues to eat.
Hands on his hips, Albedo shook his head. He glanced up at the statue the cat lay next to—Numbness. “That reminds me. I suppose I should introduce the others to you, Lumine. They’re your friends after all.” Albedo exhaled a laugh at the thought. But, smile dropping, he picked up a candle lamp and approached the statue. A young boy sat against the wall, arms splayed out to the side. Head listing to the side, he stared out at nothing. His legs still needed to be sculpted: one leg lying straight ahead and the other with the knee raised. “The one the cat is by is Numbness. Being numb—the complete antithesis of emotions. I’ve always wondered what that would feel like.” Albedo gingerly stepped around the statue, giving the cat plenty of space. The cat still swiped at Albedo’s bare feet in passing.
In the shadowy back corner stood Grief. It depicted a person of indeterminate sex sitting on a stone bench. A large, misshapen hole warped their chest, as if someone had pulled apart some putty and ripped a hole in it. The shoulders and torso caved in on itself as if shouldering an invisible weight. “They say grief is like a hole in the heart. I haven’t lost anyone to be able to confirm. Never… really been close to anyone else before. But still somehow this…” Inhaling deeply through his nose, Albedo breathed in the smell of fresh ink and mold. He shook his head before moving on.
Near Lumine’s base lay a middle-aged man sitting with his head in his hands. The hard lines in the man’s posture gave his melancholy air weight. He pressed the base of his palms into his eyes. There was strength in his rippling arms, but the slump in the shoulders showed powerlessness. Defeat.
Exhaling, Albedo ran a hand down its shoulder. “I met this man a few years ago when I was returning from the agora. He sat against a poorly made mud house. He looked pale. Sweaty. But I suppose that could have been the heat. He sat just like this, head bowed, hands pressed to his eyes and unmoving. No one else was around. No children playing, no women weaving under the shade of the gable. Just palm trees. I remember calling out to him, but he didn’t answer. Flies buzzed. I just set some of my groceries and mora beside him and left.” Albedo gripped the man’s shoulder and looked up at Lumine. “Lumine, meet Despair.”
He laughed. “I know. It’s a sobering menagerie. But give them a couple of years; they’ll grow on you.” Grunting, he sat down on the dias Lumine stood on. “I have a couple of happier ones outside. Mostly unfinished. Ironically, there’s a girl named Joy who’s grinning while hugging a spooked cat to her chest,” said Albedo nodding at the orange cat. “But I haven’t worked on her in a while.” He leaned back against Lumine’s leg and looked out across the room.
“Someone once asked why I create humans instead of gods like everyone else.” Eyes downcast, Albedo held his Geo Vision. It felt cold and smooth against his skin. In the candlelight it sparkled. Rhinedottir would likely throw him into the sea if he did. Albedo, however, had no quarrel with the gods. If anything, he felt gratitude since they gifted him a Vision which let him finish statues much quicker than others.
“Gods are perfect. They possess the might to smite their enemies with a thought. It’s little wonder Master wants to share in that power. But humans…” Albedo looked at his statues. His chest ached. “There’s something about the struggle of humans…” Sighing, Albedo let the Vision fall from his grip. “But I suppose we’re both outsiders who will never fully understand them. At least, not as long as we’re cooped up in here.”
The cat padded across the mosaic tile to a corner of the room. It scrunched its body through a hole then disappeared outside. Albedo shook his head. “Even the cat is freer than I am.”
After standing up, he retrieved Lumine’s arm from the table and attached it onto the statue using a dowel. He stepped back to admire her. The many candles in the room burned low. Smoke clogged the air, leaving Albedo feeling hazy as if living a fever dream. He studied her wavy hair, the crinkle of her eyes, and smiling, full lips. Her new arm reached out towards him, inviting him.
Throat tight, Albedo swallowed. “What’s the point of studying alchemy to create life, if there’s so little to look forward to in life?”
Lumine didn’t answer. Only beckoned with a knowing smile.
In the early morning hours, Albedo walked along the beach alone. Hot sand stuck to his feet. Despite the early hour, the stagnant muggy air clung to him. He paused to watch the ocean. The sea glistened. Albedo exhaled. “If only you could see this.”
Albedo moved along the shore. Startled, a crab scuttled away. Ahead, half-buried in the sand, lay a pink conch shell. Shrugging, he picked it up and held it to his ear. Eyes closed, Albedo listened to the waves break against the shore like a lullaby. He could taste the salt in the air.
Opening his eyes, Albedo looked further down the beach. He imagined Lumine ahead of him skipping to and fro, collecting shells as she went. Meeting Albedo’s gaze, she held out a hand towards him.
Albedo smiled. He gripped the shell tighter. Humming, Albedo continued forward, shell still in hand.
For Albedo, who worked in a quiet storeroom, the agora was a welcome hub of activity. Vendors set up stalls under the shade of the covered walkway. Children raced around the colonnades. A statue of Venti stood atop a fountain, water pouring out of his raised hands. The smell of fish and meat hanging off the racks made Albedo’s mouth water. Pigeons strutted about, sneaking up breadcrumbs.
Albedo had already finished shopping, but, lingering, he strolled down through the agora. Men stood in a corner, debating the merits of Ventus’ democracy. A merchant called out to Albedo, trying to sell carrier pigeons; saw it was Albedo; and turned to call someone else. Albedo didn’t break stride or blink. He continued walking.
A sharp laugh made Albedo stop. A group of women gathered around a merchant who had long, flowing peplos for sale. The gold pins at the shoulders shone in the light like stars.
Albedo paused, considering. He still had some mora leftover. He grinned.
“Lumine!” Arms full, Albedo slammed the storeroom door open. He shoved aside work tools to dump a pile of fabric and food on the table. “I elected to take the longer path to the agora today and cross the beach. Here’s a shell. You can hear the ocean if you hold it to your ear.” Smiling, he raised it to her ear. Lumine blankly stared back at him. He laughed at himself a bit.
Clearing his throat, Albedo turned back to the table. “I also purchased—oh, you’re back again, Pounce.”
The orange cat had been napping underneath the worktable. He leaned back, stretching his back before giving Albedo the stink eye. Albedo tossed a fish to the ground. “Got this for you. Now behave, and stop stealing my food.”
Pounce jumped onto the fish. Albedo tried to sneak a scratch behind the ears, but only got another scratch on his hand for the trouble.
Shaking his head, Albedo approached Lumine. “Here are some peplos and necklaces I bought for you. I… may have gotten carried away. I don’t buy many things for myself, so I have quite a bit saved up from alchemic and statue commissions.”
Heart racing, Albedo dressed her in the peplos. He stepped back to behold her. It hung off her curves and gently billowed in the breeze from the window. The wreath necklace sparkled. Her elegance would put any high society lady to shame.
Albedo imagined Lumine twirling around the peplos and flashing him a dazzling smile. Albedo’s face warmed. “I still have to finish your other arm, but you look radiant, my dear. Let’s see what else is in the market next week, hm?”
One eye closed, Albedo studied Lumine’s eyes. Grunting, he mixed a bit of white into his gold paint and returned to painting her hair. “I’ll need to wait for another shipment of cor lapis from Liyue before I can do the darker highlights. With Ventus Day next month, there will be shipments coming from all countries across the sea. Then I’ll be able to procure more paint and other finer things for you.” Grinning, Albedo stepped back. “Although, admittedly, you already have quite a bit of finery.”
Lumine wore a new peplos, this one gathered just beneath her breasts and hugging her legs. Rings and her choker and matinee necklaces glinted. A few weeks ago, he had finished her other arm. She held it before her heart, fingers slightly spread apart. Albedo had yet to paint her hair and anything below the neck. In just a few weeks once he had that shipment of cor lapis paint, she’d be finished. Three years of work in the making would come to an end.
Smile growing across his face, he painted her hair. Dull ivory bloomed into color and life with just a stroke of his paintbrush. With the peak of summer past, the air was slightly cooler. Albedo had cracked open the shutters. Sunbeams drifted down, illuminating Lumine, Despair, and all his other ivory statues. Dust mites danced in the air.
Meowing, Pounce strolled up with a dead mouse in his mouth. He leapt up onto Lumine’s dais, and nudged aside the collection of shells and stones Albedo had picked for Lumine, and dropped the mouse. “What’s—? Oh, another one. Well, good boy, Pounce!” Bending down, Albedo scratched the back of his ears. Pounce leaned away from the touch. After being petted, he stole away.
Grimacing, Albedo tried pushing the dead mouse away with a paintbrush handle. Blood streaked across the dais. “Naturally. Of course. Should have predicted that.” Exhaling, Albedo rubbed his forehead, smearing paint across it. He shot a look at Pounce. The cat had flopped down in front of the jars by the door. He idly flicked his tail and watched Albedo as if guarding the food.
Albedo chuckled. “You know, it’s probably not too late to change the patter of the cat Joy is holding to match Pounce. Maybe after I finish you, Lumine, and Despair I can return to it.”
After wiping the blood, he returned to painting Lumine. “Anything interesting happened lately? Hmm. Oh, yes, the last time I was in the market, there was a traveler who hailed from the Far East. I could hardly believe my eyes! I didn’t speak with him—Master wouldn’t approve of pointless chatter with strangers—but I can imagine his homeland well enough from descriptions I’ve read in books. They say Inazuma has the most breathtaking cherry blossoms. They even make a holiday of watching their blooms and drink and sing underneath its branches. I’d love to go with you. I…” Sighing, Albedo lowered his paintbrush. He breathed in the familiar smell of mold. The same dirt streaks stained the mosaic floor. “I’d love to go anywhere with you. To do anything other than being stuck here studying all day.
“I am passionate about alchemy. Uncovering the world’s secrets is a thrilling endeavor. If I journeyed with Master more, then we could conduct in-the-field research and witness firsthand the lives of humans. After all, to create human life, shouldn’t one be familiar with what it means to be human? Sculpting statues is only a step on the path of that journey. I…” Laughing, Albedo ran a painted smeared hand through his hair. He heaved a sigh. “I don’t know what I’m driving at. I’m just…” Closing his eyes, Albedo swallowed. “I’m just tired of being alone.”
Lumine’s graceful form stood erect, one hand reaching out and the other over her heart. In the sunlight, her golden hair had an ethereal glow. She smiled gently.
Eyes stinging, Albedo held Lumine’s hand, and placed a hand to his chest.
“When, oh when, Albedo, will you stop playing with dolls?”
Albedo froze. A chill ran down his spine.
Jaw set, Rhinedottir stood in the doorway. Her pale red eyes burned. The hair pins in her plaited hair glinted in the light.
Albedo tensed as tight as a bowstring. Heart pounded. She had returned earlier than she stated.
When she walked forward, Rhinedottir stepped on Pounce’s tail. Hissing, Pounce clawed and scratched Rhinedottir’s foot. Tsking, Rhinedottir muttered, “Foul creature,” and kicked it in the side.
Albedo gasped.
Whimpering, Pounce bolted. He squeezed himself through the hole in the back corner and disappeared.
Rhinedottir met Albedo’s gaze and shook her head. Looking up at Lumine , Rhinedottir walked around the dais, admiring it. She moved like a snow leopard circling its prey. “Mm. This is a first. Encountering a phenomenon that has me completely mystified.” She came to a stop to stare at Albedo. “Why would you let yourself become so distracted?” Her lip curled. “But I have no desire to understand the mind of a fool.”
Albedo flinched. Her words cut as deeply as a surgeon. A noise of protest slipped out of him.
Rhinedottir arched an eyebrow. “Oh? You have something of worth to say? Go on. Enlighten me.”
Albedo hid his sweaty, trembling hands behind him. Taking a shaky breath, he closed his eyes and balled his fists until nails bit into skin. “Emotional intelligence separates humans from animals. Without emotions any alchemic creation would be lifeless.” Opening his eyes, he glared at Rhinedottir. “But you’re right. You wouldn’t understand because you don’t have a heart.”
Rhinedottir stood still. Time slowed to a crawl. Albedo could count the moments between heartbeats. Face revealing nothing, Rhinedottir approached uncomfortably close to Albedo, her gaze pinning him in place.
“Um, Master, I didn’t—”
She grabbed a mallet off of a table and smashed it into Despair. Pieces of the head and hands flew across the room.
Gasping, Albedo choked. He swayed, feeling lightheaded.
Rhinedottir strode over towards Lumine. She raised the mallet.
“No!” Albedo threw himself between her and the statue.
Rhinedottir swung, striking Albedo’s shoulder. Crying out, Albedo seized his shoulder and stumbled back. White hot pain shot down his arm. His shoulder was broken, possibly fractured to pieces.
Grunting, Rhinedottir smashed the hammer into Lumine’s shoulder and then her head, decapitating her. The arm crashed into a million pieces on the floor. The head fell at Albedo’s feet. She gazed up at Albedo with half of her face gone and the other half marred with spiderweb cracks. Albedo’s throat tightened.
Rhinedottir tossed the mallet aside. Chin raised, she glided across the room and left. After all the clatter of tools and breaking stone, everything fell silent.
Eyes stinging, Albedo fell to his knees. He raised a shaking hand to cup her face. “Lu…” Swallowing, he looked up. Chunks of ivory lay across the room. His worktable had overturned, splattering paint everywhere. Tools lay coated in marble dust. Despair’s head, shoulders, and part of his arms lay in pieces.
And Lumine, his Lumine. She was destroyed.
Albedo thought he’d never see Lumine again. Months later, his wish was answered. In the dead of night, Albedo snuck into the storeroom. Today was Weinlesefest, and as with every holy day, Rhinedottir drank herself into a stupor to avoid reminders of the divine. She slept like the dead. Albedo approached the Lumine statue and attached a new head and arm. Face falling, he took in the sight of all the flaws. Nicks and scrapes marred her face and upper arm. The paint in her hair wasn’t as brilliant as he envisioned. One star-shaped mark at her neck was especially apparent.
Grimacing, Albedo fisted the front of his chiton. “Forgive me, Lumine. I did the best I could with whatever remaining supplies I had. I was sleep-deprived and working under pressure in the dark in a cramped room, and… It’s, it’s been tough. Master has forbidden me from leaving the house. She has someone else to do the chores and has me working in a corner of the lab.” Albedo exhaled a chuckle. His shoulders shook as he laughed more. The candlelight only highlighted his sallow skin and the bags beneath his eyes. He had thinned considerably leaving his chiton hanging off his frame. Albedo swallowed. “It’s quite ironic. I’m finally studying in a proper laboratory rather than a storeroom. But now she’s demanding I study in her lab 16 hours a day. She never leaves it either; she just… watches me. Experiments and watches me. And I, I only sleep a few hours a day because with what time remaining I have, I’m working on you. I even fabricated a fake wall in my bedroom to hide all the supplies. But even then…”
Evidence of Lumine’s cracks still remained. Her peplos was caked in dust. Her shells and jewelry he had bought for her were crushed and scattered across the room.
Closing his eyes, Albedo sank down and sat on the dais. He massaged his shoulder. One night he snuck out of the house and had a person with a healing Vision tend to his shoulder. She couldn’t heal it completely; raising his arm overhead sent a stabbing pain through his arm, nor could it fully rotate.
Holding his shoulder, Albedo gazed out at the storeroom. The hole in the back corner that Pounce used to enter and leave the storehouse had been boarded up. After Rhinedottir kicked him, Albedo hadn’t seen Pounce in the months since. Dried paint still caked the floor. Despair sat decapitated and armless with chunks of marble dispersed around it. The boy Numbness stared out at nothing. Grief with its gaping hole in the chest stood in the shadowy corner, its shoulders slumped. Albedo clutched his upper arms. “Every day I’m afraid Master will dispose of me. But I can’t let that happen.” Standing up, Albedo turned to Lumine. He held out a hand towards her cheek but didn’t touch it. “I have to live because… because…”
Albedo’s gaze roved over her nicks and scrapes. The lackluster paint. She smiled but could not speak. She reached out a hand but only felt cold. She held a hand over her heart, but it did not beat.
Albedo hung his head, bangs overshadowing his eyes. “Master’s right. I’m not nearly as proficient as her in alchemy. I can’t translate a butterfly into a bird, let alone bring you…” He swallowed hard. Taking a deep breath, Albedo ran his hands through his hair. He clutched his scalp. “Oh, please…! Please, what should I…?”
Albedo stilled. Blinking, he lowered his hands. Outside the window, the moon hung in the sky. Midnight hadn’t passed, so Weinlesefest was still ongoing. He still had time.
He took off running.
It was too late. Panting, Albedo came to a stop next to a column holding up the walkway. People chanted, danced, and sang around the bonfire before the Ventus statue atop the fountain. The elderly hung back and mumbled prayers with folded hands. Raucous drunken laughter arose over the songs. Wine flowed freely—Ventus’ and every Mondstadter’s favorite drink. Midnight had passed, and the festivities were in full swing.
Eyes closed, Albedo fell against the column. He took steadying breaths, trying to calm his racing heart. Albedo held his Geo Vision. Yes, the gods had acknowledged his sculpting skill by granting him this Vision. But why would they aid the creation of a woman who despised them and wished them dead?
Closing his eyes, Albedo gripped his Vision tighter. “Even if I have to live under these conditions, even if it takes a lifetime to learn, I will. I’ll do it.”
Jaw set, Albedo turned back. He darted into the shadows, his Geo Vision at his hip glinting in the firelight.
Breathing heavy, Albedo stumbled into the storeroom. The head and arm needed to be removed before Rhinedottir awoke and discovered he’d been working on Lumine in secret. He staggered past stray ivory chunks to reach Lumine. Every limb felt like lead. Every footstep felt final. Albedo came to a stop several paces away. Years could pass before he could see her whole again. He memorized her billowing golden hair, smile, and beckoning hand. In the moonlight, her skin looked more flushed.
Albedo stepped up on the dais. “Thank you for being my reason to continue living.” Drawing close, he kissed Lumine’s lips. “One day, I promise we can share a life toget…” He paused. Her lips had felt warm.
Shaking his head, Albedo gripped her upper arm to detach it from the torso. Instead of hard stone, it felt supple. “What in…?” Albedo blinked. Squinted. In the candlelight, he could just make out the arm turning white then a flushed pink where he had gripped it. Subtle lines ran up and down the arms. Veins.
Goosebumps ran through him head to toe. Eyes wide, Albedo snapped his head up. Lumine was staring directly at him.
Gasping, Albedo flew back, his hands raised to shield himself. Brows furrowing, Lumine wiggled her fingers. As if stiff, she slowly lowered her outstretched arm to examine her hands. She looked down at her peplos before brushing off some dust.
Heart pounding, Albedo stared at her. He didn’t dare breathe.
Lumine glanced up to see him watching her. She smiled wide and pressed her hands to her chest. “Thank you for bringing me to life, Albedo.” Her voice was bright yet soothing.
His eyes went wider still. Lightheaded, Albedo felt the room spin. Everything felt surreal. “What…? Are you…? Are you really?”
Lumine gently took Albedo’s hands and placed them over her heart. Her hands were warm. Soft. The sound of the wind, the moldy stench, and crickets chirping all fell away, until all Albedo felt was her heart beating under his hand. He stared at her. There were brown flecks in her honey eyes. Rather than smooth stone, her skin had pores. She still bore a nick in her cheek and the mark on her neck. When stone, the scrapes appeared as glaring flaws, now as human flesh, they looked like natural skin imperfections. Lumine smiled, her face crinkling around her eyes.
Albedo matched her smile. He exhaled a chuckle. Eyes red-rimmed, he laughed some more. “I can’t… I can scarcely believe my own eyes. The gods have answered my prayer.”
“They have. But listen, Albedo, I have something important to tell—”
Mouth agape, Albedo cupped her face. “You’re… you’re alive.”
“I am, because of you and Venti’s blessings.” Lumine touched her temple. “Just before you arrived, a man’s voice spoke in my head. He said he’d found favor with your search for companionship and granted me freedom of life. And she who had no freedom in her heart had lost all favor.”
“What? Favor? What do you mean?”
The door slammed open. Rhinedottir stood in the doorway, her long hair loose and frenzied. She glared at Albedo with red-rimmed eyes—a sign of her drinking.
Albedo tensed. His stomach twisted in knots. Biting her lip, Lumine glanced between the two before bracing herself.
Rhinedottir approached them. While she tried to mask it, her movements lacked her usual poise. She tsked. “Albedo, Albedo. In the end you just couldn’t resist temptation. Disposing you and making another would be a mercy, for you and for…” She drew to a stop. Stared at Lumine. “You actually succeeded.” Eyes narrowed, Rhinedottir reached out to clasp Lumine’s jaw. She jerked back. Coolly assessing her, Rhinedottir asked, “Your alchemy skills are still dismal so what manner of witchcraft…?”
“The gods.” Albedo’s quiet voice rang throughout the storeroom.
Rhinedottir locked gazes with him. The intensity of her gaze pinned Albedo like a dead insect to a corkboard. “And why would the gods answer the sniveling plea of a half-witted imbecile like you.”
Chin raised, Albedo met her eyes. “Because thanks to sculpting Lumine, I’ve learned to appreciate what makes life worth living: beauty, companionship, and experiencing the depth and range of human emotions.” Albedo pressed a hand to his chest. “Master, don’t you see? There’s more to life than alchemy. It’s the simple moments like enjoying the breeze, the sand between your toes, and the company of another that give life its meaning. There’s no value in creating life if—”
Rhinedottir’s eyes flashed. “If you really believe such drivel, then your existence is a flagrant mistake.”
Albedo gasped as if stabbed. “Master, please.”
Lumine stepped forward. “That’s enough! I won’t let you hurt Albedo any longer.”
“You hold your tongue, doll.” Rhinedottir’s lip curled. Like a rattlesnake, Rhinedottir glided towards Lumine. She spoke in a hiss, her voice dripping with venom. “You’re just a puppet, a husk, sent by the gods to mock me. Send them a message for me.” Snarling, Rhinedottir seized Lumine’s neck. Lifted her into the air. Choking, Lumine clutched at Rhinedottir’s hands. “I will discover the secrets of this world using forbidden knowledge. I will expose the gods as alien descenders who came to descend Teyvat into a hellscape even if I have to use the Abyss to do it.”
Albedo tackled his master. “Stop! Let her go!”
Rhinedottir backhanded him, sending him reeling. Grunting, Lumine dug her nails into Rhinedottir’s hands. Lumine kicked out at Rhinedottir’s body, but she was as immovable as a stone wall.
Raving, she squeezed Lumine’s neck all the tighter. “And nothing—nothing! Will stop me from gaining all the power I need to reshape Teyvat into my image—!”
Rhinedottir froze, her mouth hanging open mid-sentence. Her skin turned ash gray. Grip going slack, Rhinedottir collapsed to the ground. Gasping, Lumine fell onto her feet and stumbled back.
“M-Master? Master!” Albedo rushed to her side. Rhinedottir lay on her side, eyes staring out at nothing and jaw slack. “Oh, no, no, no… Master, wake up! Master, please!” Albedo shook her shoulder, but she didn’t respond. The silence in the storeroom was deafening.
Lumine wrung her hands. “Al-Albedo?”
Albedo pressed his fingers to Rhinedottir’s wrist. Waited. He sat back, face pale and hands shaking. “I… I never asked for this.”
Rhinedottir had no pulse. She was dead.
All his life, Albedo’s thoughts had churned like a water wheel. How to maximize targeted effects in alchemic solutions. This statue’s arm should be slimmed down a bit more. What would his life be like if he was a human. But now, the gears had stopped. Albedo thought about nothing. Felt nothing.
Albedo leaned against a support beam of the house. The two-story home was shaped like a horseshoe and enclosed a small courtyard. Overgrown vines wrapped around the balcony's support beams. The cooking pot fire pit sat barren. Unfinished statues lay scattered throughout the grounds all streaked with dirt and pollen. Joy, the statue of the girl holding the cat, stood out in the distance, her back to Albedo.
Albedo sat with one knee raised and the other leg extended before him. He stared out at nothing. Chest ached. Inhaling through his nose, Albedo pressed the base of his hands to his eyes.
Lumine slipped outside from a door behind him. She stood under the shadow of the balcony, carrying a bundle in her arms. “Albedo? You there?”
Albedo didn’t move. The wind rustled the palm trees. The breeze had a chill; winter would come soon.
Dirt crunching beneath her feet, she approached and sat next to him. “Look! Guess who’s back.”
Albedo glanced up. Lumine held Pounce who was purring and rubbed her shoulder with his head. He appeared no worse for wear. “Pounce!” When Albedo scratched behind the ears, Pounce gave him a look. “Where did you…?”
“I was gathering ingredients for dinner in the storeroom when I found him.” Pounce licked the underside of Lumine’s chin, making her giggle. “I could use your help for dinner. I don’t want to burn the meat again.” Lumine gave him a pointed look, urging him to eat. Albedo didn’t meet her eyes. Sighing, she let Pounce down. The cat trotted off to a sunny spot and lay down to sunbathe. “If I said I had something to show you, would you come?”
When Albedo didn’t answer, Lumine took his hand and led him into the storeroom. Albedo hung back by the doorframe. Ever since Rhinedottir had died there, he never went in again. Never touched his tools. His feet were planted into the ground like blocks of limestone.
Lumine looked over her shoulder to watch him steadily with her honey gold eyes. Her gaze promised that this would be worth it. She squeezed his hand.
Taking a breath, Albedo crossed the threshold. He gasped. The chunks of marble, dust, and dirt coating the floor had been swept. His pile of tools hung on the wall in an organized system. All his alchemy notes and devices must have been moved to Rhinedottir’s study. While Lumine’s old dais sat empty, a cloaked mass stood before it. Albedo glanced at Lumine. She grinned. With a flourish, she ripped off the cloak and stepped aside.
Eyes wide, Albedo sucked in a breath.
Underneath the cloak was Despair, his head, arms, and hands fully restored.
A lump lodged in his throat. “You…” After swallowing, Albedo cleared his throat. Pressed a hand to his mouth. “You fixed my Despair.”
Lumine gave a small smile. Shrugged. “I learned from watching you. It’s not perfect, but…” She fingered the star-shaped scrape at her neck. “We’re more human for it.”
Laughing, Albedo shook his head. He blinked a few times. “I… I don’t… Thank you. I…” Shaking his head, he turned and headed outside. Albedo breathed in the fresh air. He ran his hands through his hair. Exhaled.
Lumine came up alongside him. They listened to the distant sounds of the wave lapping against the shore and seagulls. Pounce’s head swiveled here and there, listening to sounds too faint for them to hear. Albedo cleared his throat. “Thank you, Lumine. I can’t begin to describe how much that means to me.”
“It was the least I could do. I was hoping this would help with…” Frowning, she cocked her head. “I don’t understand. Why are you so upset that she's gone when she treated you so badly?”
Albedo paused. He rested a forearm on a support beam and gazed out across the grounds. The shore wasn’t far from them but a line of palm trees obscured it from sight. Albedo clenched and unclenched his hand. “Did I ever tell you why I started sculpting?” When Lumine shook her head, he continued. “As Master said, ivory, marble, and wood are all poor conductors of alchemy. Chalk is the best medium to bring things to life. And yet having the human form immortalized in stone, forever showcasing a moment of time of happiness or sorrow… I wanted Master to look upon them and become just as curious about learning human emotions as I. For her to desire to live life like humans, too. To… have a more familial-like relationship than master and servant.” Exhaling, Albedo hung his head. “It was… a silly wish. And now that she’s gone, I’ll always remain alone.”
Lumine turned to him, the wind billowing her hair and peplos. The sunlight fell on her ivory skin, making it glow. “You will never be alone again, Albedo. You have me. We have each other.”
Arms crossed, Albedo leaned back against the support beam and faced Lumine. His voice had a slight edge, but his shoulders slumping betrayed his weariness. “Why? Why would you stay with me? You can walk along the beach, dance in festivals, and go see the cherry blossoms in Inazuma. You don’t…” He lowered his gaze. “You’re free to go wherever you please.”
Lumine stepped closer. “I can’t imagine anyone else by my side.” She placed a hand over the jeweled necklace Albedo had bought her. “No one else is as thoughtful as you, or as kind as Pounce can attest. And it’s cute that at any given time you’re running your hands through your hair and getting something on your face.” Grinning, Lumine cupped Albedo’s face and thumbed dirt off his cheek.
Smiling, Albedo covered her hands with his. Their faces were only a few hairbreadths apart. “I’m a synthetic being. If you remain with me, I don’t know if you’ll truly learn more about humanity or emotions.”
“I know I will.” Lumine’s smile was as warm as butter on toast. “Because I already have.”
Eyes closed, she closed the distance between them.
Humming, Albedo narrowed his eyes and chiseled at a statue. He stepped back to inspect his work. Grinning, he shook his head.
“Daddy!”
A young boy with wavy blond hair bounded into the workshop. He stood before the statue. “Ooh, a goat! My favorite.” Laughing, he pointed at the goat’s mouth. “I like him. He’s sticking out his tongue.”
“Thought you’d appreciate it,” chuckled Albedo, while taking a twig out of his hair. “We can keep it in your room if you’d like.”
“That would be cool!”
In the years since marrying Lumine, Albedo primarily worked on sculpture commissions, only performing alchemy when an idea struck him. His fame spread throughout the land and received orders from all corners of Teyvat, giving him and Lumine plenty of opportunity to travel. When not traveling, the family regularly enjoyed the sights Ventus offered. Albedo had met and befriended several others in the city like Diluc, Kaeya, and Jean.
"Hey, Daddy?” Head craned back, he looked up at Albedo with wide golden eyes. “Can you make a statue of me?”
Grinning, Albedo ruffled his hair. “Why would I do that when I have the living, breathing you right here?”
He swatted Albedo’s hand away with a giggle. Grunting, he started climbing atop the goat’s back. “Do you think goats eat people’s hair—?”
“Hey, come down from there,” called a new voice. Lumine entered the workshop holding a baby girl in the crook of her arm. The baby idly sucked on her fingers. Lumine held his arm, helping him down, then tapped him on the butt. “Go get the picnic basket by the front door.”
“Fine, fine…!” He ran off. Meowing, Pounce jumped off his perch on a workshop table and followed him.
Turning away, Albedo let his tools drop onto a table. They fell with a heavy thud. Frowning, Lumine asked. “Everything all right? If you don’t want to visit her grave, we can just picnic.”
Albedo took their daughter from her. He smiled at her, and the baby mirrored his smile. She smacked a hand over Albedo’s mouth. He kissed it.
Albedo looked back at the corner of the workshop. There stood the completed Joy and Despair. In between them was a life-sized statue of Rhinedottir and Albedo. Albedo looked back at her, smiling, while Rhinedottir gazed ahead, her expression neutral. But in the flickering candlelight and shadow, one could mistake it for a slight smile.
“No, I’m all right.” Shifting the baby to the other side, Albedo held out a hand to Lumine. She smiled.
Hand in hand, they walked out the door.