The floating pixie was inhibiting Albedo's ability to work efficiently, and he shooed her out of the way for the twelfth time. Sighing, Albedo placed his instruments on the bench, covering the sample of crystalline sediment he was studying. He scanned his workspace—cluttered, cramped, unfinished experiments haphazardly shoved into every space—for a blank scrap of paper. After a few moments of rustling, he pulled out a discarded sketch that was nestled between a lump of starsilver and a sealed bottle of what looked like slime condensate.
Without giving the sketch much mind, the alchemist flipped the crumpled paper onto its blank side, smoothing it out before writing a list of supplies he planned on sending Paimon to retrieve. He paused after writing the first item, reminding himself that his writing needed to be legible, not chicken scratch, for someone other than himself to be able to decipher. With careful strokes, Albedo used the sharper point of his writing implement (he had found charcoal to be the most reliable in this frigid climate) to finish the list with somewhat neater lettering.
List in hand, Albedo turned to call Paimon over, only to be met with a very close view of the pixie's facial features. She yelped and careened backwards in the air.
"Eh-heh sorry Albedo!" A tinge of pink creeped in her cheeks as she apologised sheepishly, small hand scratching the back of her head.
Not for the first time, Albedo found himself wondering how the pixie defied gravity. Was it some form of elemental power that she called upon? Perhaps she had come from another world lik—
"What you got there?" Paimon's question snapped him out of his pondering. Ah yes, there were more pressing matters. Albedo handed the pixie the scrap of paper. She frowned slightly as she tried to read the items, squinting at it and turning the paper sideways.
Without pause, Paimon looked over to him, stating, quite unnecessarily in his opinion, "You know, your writing is reaaaally hard to read Albedo!" He felt indignation stir in his chest, about to protest, but he caught a glimpse of humour and mischief in the pixie's eyes.
Instead, he coughed into his gloved hand, ignoring the comment. "Well, nevertheless, I'd like you to retrieve those items." She gave him a dry look, floating (waiting?) in place with a hand on her hip. After a moment of processing the gesture, he added quickly, "Please."
She nodded slowly, looking over the list once more, and glancing worriedly over to the still sleeping traveller. "Yup, just leave it to Paimon!"
Before she left, he sorted through the clutter of his workshop once more, handing the sprite a small carry bag, a few warming potions, and a thick scarf. Once he was satisfied she was equiped for the cold weather, she left the campsite, list in hand. Albedo let out a sigh, relieved that he had some space to think without Paimon's constant fretting and palpable anxiousness.
About three hours had passed since the traveller had fallen asleep, and Albedo still did not have a working hypothesis of what the results had concluded. He couldn't help but think about what a curious reaction the traveller had had. Some nausea had been expected, yes, as was the initial swirl reaction, but based on his visual observations alone, the the unknown sediment was something the alchemist had never seen before. Perhaps it was a remnant from Aether's home world? Humming in thought, Albedo returned to his workbench, opening the sediment sample once more to divide it between several smaller containers for further testing.
Several inconclusive tests later, the daylight having dimmed to a little past the golden hour, Albedo was pulled from his workbench by soft groaning. He glanced over to the blonde traveller to see his hazel eyes blinking open slowly. Ah, he was awake. Potion in hand, in case he was sick again, Albedo moved swiftly to his side, crouching next to the bedroll. Removing his gloves, he pressed his palm to the boy's forehead once more, finding it to be glistening with fever and warm to the touch. He had waited too long to check on him, distracted by the tests. It had been a while since he had looked after someone; perhaps he did need an extra set of hands to assist in monitoring his condition.
"-bedo?" the traveller questioned, swallowing thickly.
"Yes, Aether. Do you remember where you are?"
"Dra..spine," he replied, breathless as he propped himself up onto a shaky elbow.
"Very good. Tell me how you're feeling?"
The traveller didn't immediately respond, his gaze locked onto the alchemist's hands and the scratches that adorned them. Surprised, Albedo quickly inhaled as the blonde pulled his hand towards him, gently thumbing around the small sections of torn skin and inspecting them with care.
Amber eyes met his own, confusion and guilt shimmering in their depths. "I did this?" the traveller asked in a hoarse whisper. Unsure of what to say, Albedo nodded hesitantly. They were just a few scratches; Albedo was not sure why the traveller would be so upset about such a trivial thing.
The traveller released his hand, placing it gently back in Albedo's lap. The warmth from his touch subsided shortly after. "Sorry," Aether muttered, not meeting his gaze as he winced and brought a hand to his temple.
"It's ok," Albedo reassured him, worry increasing. It seemed that the effects of the experiment had not yet subsided. "How are you feeling? Any nausea?"
Aether immediately paled before he could provide a response, a hand clenched around his abdomen as he gave a warning hiccup. Albedo quickly looked around for a container, pulling over a glazed bowl he often used to collect fresh snow to melt and boil for tea. He helped the traveller sit somewhat upright, keeping the bowl steady as he retched another stomach-full of watery sputum (more worrisome, a repeated appearance of the crystalline sediment).
After the episode had passed, Aether fell back limply onto the bed roll, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion and damp hair sticking to his cheeks. Albedo was hesitant to give him more of the settling potion given his previous aversion to it, but the blonde opened his lips obligingly at the sight of the bottle. Lifting Aether's head in support, the nape of his neck slick with sweat, the alchemist poured the tonic gently into boy's mouth. After the telltale movement of his Adam's apple, Albedo gently placed his head back on the bedroll. Like before, it took only a moment for it to take hold and he was dozing soundly once again, a gentle sigh passing through his lips.
Moments later, Paimon returned, zipping in from the cold and rubbing her hands together furiously near the dying fire. He made his way over to her, tossing another log and some smaller kindling onto the coals to keep the nip of dusk at bay. Once sufficiently defrosted, Paimon handed him the full bag of supplies, wiggling her eyebrows at him as she handed the list back too, sketch side up. The charcoal was smudged, but the figure in the sketch bore the likeness of the long-haired traveller in his care. (How curious. He did not remember sketching him in such detail. He had thought of it as an absentminded doodle.)
Coughing lightly into his fist, he turned away from Paimon's scrutiny as he felt his cheeks warm at the unspoken suggestion. "Any issues?" he asked, avoiding the subject as he quickly smoothed out the now smudged sketch and closed it safely between the pages of a book.
She shook her head, bemused smile tugging at her cheeks. "Nope!" She said cheerfully. "Unless you count a grilling by an unconventional nun."
He hummed in thought. "You mean Sister Rosaria?"
She shrugged. "Maybe. Paimon thought she was kinda scary and not very nun-like." Depositing the bulky scarf onto a stool, she floated over to the traveller, brushing some hair out of his eyes. Thoughtful. He had not considered doing that. Glancing at the empty bottle in his hand, she asked hopefully, "Did he wake up? Is he going to be ok?"
He gestured to the glazed bowl that was cast to the side, shaking his head. "The results are still inconclusive, and he has not shown much sign of improvement as of yet."
Her face fell. "Oh. Well what do you think is wrong with him? There must be something we can do."
"Well, the elemental flow in his body seemed to be unimpeded, as was evident from the initial observations, however his latter symptoms seem to signify some other blockage or reaction," the alchemist explained. "The only clue I have to go off is the sediment he expelled, which I am still unsure of its origins. The best we can do right now is allow the potion to pass his system on its own while he rests."
Frowning, the pixie settled next to the traveller on the bedroll, tucking the blanket back up around his chest. "So you're saying we just have to wait it out and hope he gets better?"
He nodded in confirmation, not fond of the outcome either. "Unfortunately, yes. I'll make up some more tonic with the supplies you gathered to manage his symptoms and help him rest, but I'm afraid there's not much else we can do right now."
Paimon remained uncharacteristically quiet, pursing her lips and gripping the blanket tightly.
He sighed. "Try to get some rest." Turning, the alchemist made his way back to his workstation, settling himself into a stool; he had some more hours of work ahead. "Hopefully I'll have some more answers by morning."
...
When Albedo awoke, the first rays of dawn peeked through the mouth of the campsite. The fire had been restoked through the night, now simmering at a low crackle as the flames licked hungrily at the remnants of a thick log.
Albedo shivered as a blanket fell from his shoulders, catching on the stool before crumpling to the floor; he had apparently fallen asleep at his workstation. Blearily, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and the slight dampness of drool from his cheek, glancing over to the bedroll where the traveller and his companion had rested. He blinked at the empty space for a moment, puzzled.
Aether was gone.
...