For the second time Alexander is feeling rather reluctant to leave, conflicted by the comfort of a warm hearth and joy at crafting, and his desire to journey the world.
For a long moment, standing amidst the humming quiet of the workshop, as weird as it sounded, the path ahead seemed not like an adventure, but a self-imposed exile.
His eyes scanned the room, falling not just on the masterworks he would take, but on the scattered evidence of his journey to mastery. The warped greatsword leaning in the corner, a lesson in improper tempering. The spear with the brittle haft, a testament to a misjudged grain in the wood. Each failed piece was a memory, a stepping stone laid by Xianyun's guidance and his own stubborn perseverance.
Leaving the forge, he made way to the pavilion's edge. Ganyu had long gone back, too busy with her responsibilities, so it was just him and Xianyun again.
There he found her in her human form, looking out at the sea of clouds as if she could already see him walking away.
"The resonance calculations for the energy-conductive alloy are complete," she stated, her voice as crisp as the mountain air. "The data suggests a 12% increase in elemental conductivity compared to standard Noctilucous Jade, with negligible trade-off in tensile strength."
"I had a feeling it would work. Thank you for verifying it, Teacher." Alexander came to stand beside her, following her gaze into the endless white.
A comfortable silence settled between the two minds that no longer needed constant noise to communicate.
"It is a pity you will not be here to forge the first prototype," she said, a sliver of a tremble passing through her voice.
The words he had practiced stuck in his throat, coming out softer than he intended. "That's what I needed to speak with you about."
She turned her head, her sharp, intelligent eyes behind their glasses seeing right through him. "One is listening."
He took a steadying breath. "This past year... you've given me a craft. A purpose. A home." He gestured vaguely around them, at the domain that had become his world. "But Ganyu was a reminder. The world is still turning out there. The journey I promised myself... it's still waiting."
Xianyun's composure was absolute, but he had learned her language. He saw the subtle tightening at the corner of her jaw, the way her fingers stilled where they rested on the railing. "This is an illogical conclusion," she stated, her argument a reflex.
"Your progress here is exponential. To interrupt this trajectory for the unpredictable variables of nomadic travel is inefficient."
"It's not about the data, Xianyun," he said, using her name deliberately for the first time, the word rolling off his tongue with more than simple teacher-student affection.
Meeting her gaze, he continued, "It's about the path. If I stay, I know I'll never leave. And a part of me will always wonder 'what if?' I can't let that happen…"
The silence returned, heavier this time. She looked away, back to the clouds, and gave a single, slow nod of acceptance. She understood the pull of a destined path better than most.
"Come," she said finally, her voice softer. "Let us review your inventory. A craftsman should know every tool at his disposal before he sets to work."
Together, they went inside the massive workshop, of which the forge was only a little part of, neither of them taking a lead. Instead they walked step in step beside each other, as equals, their shoulders nearly brushing.
And so, moving from room to room. Alexander would pause before a rack or a chest, his eyes lingering on a piece. A thought was all it took; the air would waver like heat haze for a moment, and the item would vanish into the unseen vault only he could access.
Xianyun had long since been aware of his ability to wield the light element with which he would heal his injuries, as well as the space element, which he would use to store random items. She never questioned them and Alex took it as a matter not exceptional to the Teyvat world, after all both Saiguu and Yae had also dismissed the enigmatic nature of his abilities and arrival.
Hours slipped by, each moment feeling viscous and heavy to Alexander. For the first time since his seclusion began, he felt the cruel, deliberate tread of seconds, each one a grain of sand falling in an hourglass about to empty. It was a bitter awareness, the slow, painful awakening from a beautiful dream.
For the millennia-old adeptus, the same stretch of time was but a single, slow blink. Yet, within that blink, she also felt as much bitterness and secret reluctance to part.
"Don't be eager to hurry off," she said, her words slightly rushed, cutting through the quiet before he could speak. "Show this One how the equipment looks when wielded by you."
Alexander gave her a warm smile in answer, relieved that he could spend a few more precious moments in her presence.
First, a thought, and the air shimmered. The 'Archer's Gambeson' settled onto his imposing frame. As he adjusted the fit, Xianyun's gaze was not on the craftsmanship, but on the craftsman. The youthful softness had been blown away from his features, leaving the sharp, clean lines of a young man.
'Soon he would need to take a bride and start a family…' Her thoughts drifted when driven by an impulse she didn't fully understand, she closed the small distance between them.
Her hands rose, not to inspect the leather, but to gently smooth a stray lock of his black, wavy hair from his forehead, her touch feather-light. She had to look up to do it, a reminder of how he had truly grown to tower over her.
Alexander chuckled at the lost expression marring Xianyun's adorable face. Emboldened, he reached out and reciprocated, his fingers gently tousling the perfectly arranged strands of her hair in a playful, affectionate mess.
"Alex." The name was a sigh, a pout touching her lips as she lightly batted his hands away, her focus returning to straightening her disheveled locks. The space between them crackled with a new, unspoken tension.
While she was doing so, Alexander continued with his fashion show. Next, a set of chainmail manifested, classified by the craftsman as 'Medium Armour'.
The interlocking rings whispered a metallic sigh as they settled over his torso. He rolled his shoulders, feeling the familiar weight, remembering the countless hours of meticulous work, the piles of rejected, imperfect rings that had taught him the patience for this flawless hauberk.
It looked reminiscent of one of his most liked types of armour back in his original world. The Europeans would call it "Varangian armour", but in his home country, which was also affected by the Swedish dynasties in the 9th century, this would come to be known as "Druzhinnik armour".
Xianyun once again reached out her hands and took off his helm, and only then decided to check the setpiece, all the while fidgeting with the new item in her hands.
Alexander felt his heart quicken at the sight of her acting like this, a premonition of a different kind of feeling rising inside, believing she herself was feeling the same pull…
He also, once again, reached out to take the helmet back, his leather gloves brushing against her own exposed skin.
"The helm is crucial for safety, you know? It's the best part of the set with its nice look as well." he joked as once again put in on himself, trying to hide his flushing cheeks and burning ears.
"It looks good." Xianyun nodded absentmindedly, very unlike her usual focused and calm self.
Scrambling to regain his composure, a mixture of guilt, affection, and heightened reluctance swirling within him, he summoned the final set. Piece by articulated piece, the masterwork steel encased him, the clicks and clasps echoing in the quiet room. He instantly transferred from a Varyag into a legendary knight.
This final set was a symphony of motion and protection, its creation a dialogue between his vision, knowledge and skill, and her millennia of insight.
With this armour, he no longer looked simply imposing, it was like his figure made the atmosphere alone acknowledge his being as he stood grounded, unmovable.
Xianyun felt her breath catch, a tangible flutter in her chest. But as the silence stretched, Alexander unequipped the heavy set, the grand knight vanishing to reveal the man once more.
"Weapons," she blurted out, the word sharp in the quiet, forestalling the farewell she saw forming on his lips. "I want to see more."
Ever since first meeting her, this was the first time she addressed herself in first person, not as 'One'.
With an awkward nod, Alex materialised his first piece, a lucerne hammer.
Xianyun closed the distance until the crown of her head nearly brushed his chin. She placed her hands over his on the shaft, their fingers aligning, wielding the weapon together.
"I remember this was the first thing you made."
"Well, not this exact one. But it was the first project I revisited and perfected after I truly understood the forge."
"You were happy for the next couple of days after testing it."
"Yeah," he admitted, a faint smile returning. "I was eager to move on. I had this vision… of wielding all sorts of equipment into battle at the same time. Being a one-man army."
"Ranged and close quarters simultaneously?"
"Yeah."
"This is the first time you are telling me this…"
"Is it important?"
"You wish to use your knowledge for war?"
"Not war," he corrected, his tone thoughtful. "I just like battling, I guess?"
They both fell silent.
Alexander misinterpreted it, his shoulders slumping slightly under the weight of perceived disappointment. But her thoughts were elsewhere. She cared little for his reasons for forging; she was focused on the implication that his path would be one of perpetual conflict. He wasn't just a traveler; he was a warrior, destined to spend his brief, mortal life dancing on the edge of a blade.
Feeling the crushing weight of her silence, he equipped another item. The Lucerne Hammer remained in his right hand, while a large, exquisitely crafted Kite Shield appeared on his left arm. He took a step back, and the movement finally snapped her gaze up to meet his.
Confused by her intensity, he re-equipped the full knight armor and fell into a showcasing stance, hammer held ready, shield positioned firmly. "Hahaha, cool right?" He tried to joke and lighten the mood.
It didn't quite land, but it did break her reverie. She folded her arms, a gesture that subtly accentuated her form, and beckoned him back with a curl of her finger. He unequipped everything, the armor vanishing to leave him looking sheepish, one hand rising to scratch the back of his head.
"It was good," she said softly when he was close again. "What's next?"
"Well I have a huge greatshield as well… oh and a massive greatsword, kinda hard to wield it for now though… hm… there's also the bow you already saw, crafted some good arrows for it."
"Is that all? Don't you have a spear?"
"Eh… There is also that hybrid between a spear and sword that I showed you a while back, but I have yet to think of how to properly use it, for now it's a clumsy mix between spear and sword basics…"
"You didn't finish that buckler?"
"That's too simple to do now, so I just postponed it for a better time."
"This One understands." The formal pronoun returned, but her eyes held his, a universe of unspoken words passing between them in that look.
One last time, he summoned the 'Archer's Gambeson', the leather settling around him. This was the identity he would choose for the road ahead: mobile, adaptable, unburdened. He also called forth his Bow and a quiver of arrows, slinging them over his shoulder with practiced ease.
The review was complete. Every lesson, every failure, every triumph was now cataloged not on a shelf, but within him, ready to be drawn upon in the world beyond her mists. And alongside them, he carried the new, aching weight of the possibility of what he was leaving behind.
Her beauty was unparalleled after all… And he felt comfort beside her, and… and…
And then he remembered Yae. A fear of the situation repeating began burning within.
.
.
.
The mist at the edge of Cloud Retainer's domain was as pervasive as ever, a tangible wall between this sanctuary and the world. Alexander stood before it, the finality of the moment was a physical weight. Xianyun stood beside him.
"It is time," Alexander said, his gaze fixed on the opaque future beyond the mist.
"The path is clear. Your preparedness is... adequate," she replied, her voice regaining its formal, analytical tone.
He turned to her, his expression softened by a genuine, if sad, gratitude. "Thank you, Xianyun. For everything. This year... it meant more than I can say."
"Do not make this farewell permanent," she stated, the command layered with a tinge of a plea he couldn't miss. "This domain will await your data on the wider world. Your findings will be... invaluable."
"I'll send letters," he promised, a faint, determined smile touching his lips. "And I'll be back."
He made to turn, but she gracefully closed the distance between them. Her arms slipped around him, one hand resting against the sturdy leather of his gambison on his back, the other coming up to cradle the back of his head, her fingers gently tangling in his wavy black hair, as her face rested on his leather chest plate.
Alexander froze. It was a simple embrace, but to him, it was a seismic event. No one had ever held him like this. It was a gesture of profound, unspoken care.
Her silent communication of comfort, pride, and a longing for him to stay safe. The warmth of her was a solid, real anchor in the swirling uncertainty of his emotions.
The faint, elegant scent of her, a mix of silk and mountain air, filled his senses. This was his first hug.
His own arms, after a moment of stunned hesitation, came up to wrap around her, holding her tightly as if she were the only solid thing in the universe. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in, committing this feeling to memory.
Uncontrollable tears rolled down his eyes, her silky clothes soaked them all in, as she tightened her hold on him in reciprocation.
"Be careful, Alexander," she whispered, her voice barely audible, the words a warm breath against his ear.
He could only nod, his throat too tight for words.
Slowly, reluctantly, they pulled apart. His eyes were bright red from the shed tears, and hers held a softness he knew would haunt him.
Without allowing himself another moment of hesitation, knowing that if he stayed a second longer, he would never find the strength to leave, he turned and walked into the mist. His form was swallowed whole in an instant, leaving no trace behind but the memory of his warmth in her arms.
She shifted back to her crane form, one she hadn't embraced for a while now. Its majestic white colour becoming a stark contrast against the swirling grey of the boundary leading to the same coloured grey and unforgiving world.
Xianyun stared into the emptiness for a long, long time, her hands still faintly tingling with the feel of him. The silence of her domain, once a comfort, now pressed in on her from all sides, deafening and absolute. The forge was cold. The anvil was silent. And once again, Cloud Retainer felt utterly, completely alone.
.
.
.
Weeks bled into months. The domain of Cloud Retainer, once a symphony of clashing steel, humming machinery, and warm, easy conversation, had fallen into a silence so deep it was a physical presence.
Xianyun found herself drifting through the halls in her human form once again, her footsteps the only sound disrupting the stagnant air. The forge was cold, its fire banked into grey ash. The training dummies stood motionless, their reactive enchantments dormant. The workshop was a museum of perfect, unused things.
A year ago, she converted many of the automated workstations into manual ones, so that Alexander could learn and use them.
She couldn't bring herself to automate them back. After all, he would use them once he returned some time later…
Right?
Moving past the workshop, she sat at the low table where they had shared countless meals, a single cup of tea cooling, untouched, before her. The chair opposite was empty.
It had always been empty before Alexander, but now its emptiness was… inexplicably hurtful. She had existed for millennia in serene seclusion, but this was different, this was absence in the purest form.
So little time compared to her long life had been spent with the young man, but his presence changed so much…
Everyday, her mind, usually a whirlwind of calculations and theories, was a barren plain. She tried to focus on the resonance of a new alloy, but the numbers scattered like dust. She attempted to adjust a gear in a clockwork mechanism, but her hands felt clumsy.
Everything felt… pointless. The silence was no longer a canvas for thought, but a void that swallowed it.
Xianyun thought back on her first disciple, Ganyu was a constant, tied to the rhythm of Liyue Harbor, a place Xianyun could observe from a comfortable, detached distance. She was also a long lived species, able to visit time and time again.
But Alexander was a spark in the wind. He could be in the deserts of Sumeru, the courts of Fontaine, or face-down in a ditch somewhere, his brilliant light extinguished forever. The uncertainty was a gnawing anxiety she had no data to quantify or resolve.
The mortal clock was ticking. The fear she had so clinically diagnosed in Yae Miko, the terror of a finite ending, now clutched at her own spirit with cold fingers. She saw his face as he was in her arms, young and vibrant, and her mind, treacherous, projected a future image of him returning decades hence, his hair shot through with silver, his body bowed by time, the fire in his black eyes dimmed. The thought was a physical pain.
A forbidden equation presented itself in her mind: a way to bridge the mortal divide. With her knowledge and his unique constitution, it was… calculable. A path to grant him the longevity to match his potential, to preserve that brilliant light…
But she recoiled from the thought as if burned. It was not a matter of impossibility, but of divine law. The precepts of Celestia were clear and absolute: the cycle of life and death for mortals was inviolable. To artificially halt it was an arrogance that invited execution.
And then, her own words to Yae Miko echoed in the hollow silence of the hall, as clear as if she had spoken them yesterday.
"You are choosing to close the book at a thrilling chapter because you are afraid of the final page."
The truth of it struck her with the force of a physical blow. She was doing the exact same thing. By remaining here, entombed in her domain, she was closing the book. She was choosing the certainty of silence over the painful, beautiful, and temporary noise of his mortal heart. She was allowing the story to unfold without her, a passive observer to the most compelling narrative she had encountered in a thousand years.
She slapped her forehead, 'How could I only think of this now? So many months have passed already!'
A resolve, cold and sharp and absolute, crystallized within her.
Seclusion was a cage of her own making. If the mortal would not stay in the realm of the Adeptus, then the Adeptus would enter the realm of the mortal.
She stood, the motion decisive. The cold cup of tea was forgotten. She would not wait for letters that might never come. She would not simply await his return. She would become a variable in his equation.
She would travel Teyvat. Not to interfere, not to guide his path, but to observe. To be a silent guardian in the shadows, a drifting cloud on the same wind that carried him. Close enough to witness his story, to interact if the situation warranted it, to help if he stumbled. She would ensure that when the final page of his story was written, she would have read every word.
Flutter
With a change in form, a white streak descended from Mt. Aocang.
Its destination? The nearest tavern, undoubtedly bards were already singing of his exploits, she would find him soon.