The work of an adventurer was tireless and fraught with peril, the promise of treasure nothing but sweet, empty whispers of a devil. Indeed, an early death was all that awaited the poor souls clad in green, and Raiden couldn't fault the director of the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor for wanting to offer them a special deal.
At least, that was what she'd summarized from the Traveler's many excursions - until today - when her eyes were suddenly opened to an entirely different side of adventuring.
"Yarrr!" growled the Traveler, a makeshift patch covering his left eye. "Hand over yer loot!"
The children who'd commissioned this particular request giggled, more amused than frightened at the prospect of being robbed. Of course, it wasn't as though he could actually steal anything, lest the Millelith be on their tail - again.
Heat rushed to Raiden's cheeks, recalling the scolding she'd been given by her lover. She hadn't received such a dressing down since the days when her sister was still alive.
"Ha!" mocked a little girl. "In broad daylight? There isn't even any gold here, just a bunch of carrots and wheat. What kind of second-rate pirate are you, anyway?"
The Traveler narrowed his only visible eye, scrutinizing the children and their ship, before smirking rather mischievously.
"Not all treasure is silver and gold, lassie."
His eye came to land on none other than Raiden herself, and he raised a hand, pointing in her direction.
"She's the one I want, savvy?"
"Huh?" the children chorused. "Whaddya mean-"
In a swift, sudden motion, the Traveler was standing next to her, scooping her into his arms, a breeze seemingly picking up of its own accord. She didn't have time to so much as utter his name before they soared through the air, crossing the small stretch of water between the ship and solid land.
"Out of the way, ye scurvy landlubbers!"
Raiden could vaguely hear the children calling after them as the Traveler dashed through the harbor, many curious gazes upon them, still holding her tightly against his chest.
It was the first time she'd ever been abducted, and by a pirate no less.
The truth of the matter was that Aether had avoided some of the more physically demanding commissions, his chest still sore, and his broken bones still healing.
It was a sobering experience, clashing against a god under his own measly strength, no Adepti or wishes unnumbered to aid him. He supposed he should thank the Unknown God for leaving his constitution mostly intact, merely sealing his powers away.
He wouldn't have survived such an attack otherwise.
Worse still, he couldn't afford to show any pain or discomfort, or Raiden wouldn't let him hear the end of it. Even now, she suggested he create a Shogun-like homunculus to guard his consciousness, horrified at the disregard he displayed towards his own well-being.
"Would you believe me if I told you that I used to be much stronger than I am now?"
They'd recently set up a shrine inside the teapot, drawing inspiration from the Kamisato clan's rock gardens. Carefully raked sand surrounded them, rounded shrubs clipped to perfection.
It was a like a small patch of Inazuma that'd been preserved and brought along with them, watched over by many little fox statues, but most importantly, by an enthusiastic Paimon, as passionate as ever when it came to home decoration.
"With you, nothing lies beyond the bounds of possibility."
He stroked her head, marveling at the endless locks of hair, soft as silk, slipping effortlessly between his fingers.
"I've never sought power." continued Aether. "I've never needed to. My sister and I… for as long as I can remember, what power we had was plenty enough to overcome anything the universe sent our way."
It was true - until coming face to face with the Unknown God, they'd never suffered defeat.
That was the reason for his recklessness, why he was so willing to throw himself into the fray, no matter the enemy. It wasn't due to negligence or wild abandon, nor apathy to the concern of his friends - it was simply ignorance in its purest form, his mind still catching up to the newfound state of his body.
Raiden opened her eyes, peering directly into his own. Like always, he lost himself in her gaze, his ministrations momentarily forgotten.
"I did not ask you to cease."
She sounded almost petulant, a pout forming on her face. It took considerable effort not to laugh at that, the notion that an Archon would be resting her head on his lap and begging for head scratches rather ludicrous.
He complied, smiling when a happy sigh escaped her lips.
Aether didn't know for how long they sat there, alone and in silence, his hands working their way across her scalp, past her temples and down her neck. All he knew was that he would treasure the moment, his heart at ease, if only for a short while.
"I will aid you." whispered Raiden eventually, a tone of finality creeping into her voice.
"If it is power you seek, then I shall instruct you in the profoundest of the profound - the Musou no Hitotachi."
Raiden stared blankly at the weapon in the Traveler's hands, a blade remarkable only in the sense of how unremarkable it was. The edges were dull, and she considered it a small miracle that its surface wasn't coated in rust.
"You still cling to that nameless… thing?"
The Traveler appeared offended at her words, his hold tightening around the hilt as he fell into the kata she'd demonstrated. Night had long since fallen within the Adeptal realm, but she was a ruthless teacher, and she'd work her first and only student to the bone.
"Surely a hero of your caliber must have been awarded a finer blade, or even procured one of your own accord?"
Scoffing, he turned on his heel, skin glistening with sweat, and the pitiful weapon cut through the air in a downward slash. A crackle of lightning accompanied the blade, briefly illuminating the air around it.
"Eep!" shrieked Paimon, narrowly avoiding a stray spark with a floating somersault.
"There's power in names, true… but also limitations." said the Traveler, a strained expression on his face. The Musou no Hitotachi was as much a state of mind as it was a martial art, certainly not something for the weak-willed or faint of heart.
"Do you think Mondstadt's famed Aquila Favonia could've handled the Adeptal energy that brought down Osial? No- It's a blade that clamors for freedom - it would have repelled the foreign element without a second thought."
Raiden hummed thoughtfully.
It was something she'd never considered - that weapons, like people, were a product of their own experiences. In that sense, the more ornate a blade, the more powerful, the more history that coursed through it, the less room it had left to grow.
A simple, dull blade, on the other hand, while commonplace, had infinite potential.
Just as she reached that conclusion, she saw it, and gasped.
The weapon she held in contempt glowed brightly, tearing a thin yet unmistakable gash in the fabric of space and time. It was unthinkable, but in the span of a day, the Traveler had accomplished what took Makoto a lifetime to develop, and Ei another lifetime to perfect.
Just what was he?
"Woah…" exclaimed Paimon, flying circles around the impossible physical phenomenon. It lingered almost teasingly, the only source of light aside from the false stars illuminating the night.
"Yeah, that was pretty cool." whispered the Traveler, before falling over backwards in a dead faint.
When he finally awoke, it was to the sound of soft snoring on his left, and on the right, the soothing warmth of Raiden's hands cupping his own.
She was sat on a chair by the side of his bed, worried stiff and more than a little displeased. A lone candle lit up the room, casting soft shadows along the walls.
"You should have told me you were injured."
Aether suppressed a wince, thinking suddenly of Mona, and how she undoubtedly would've called this the passage of fate.
"I didn't want to worry you."
Paimon stirred, and he was afraid that he might have woken her up. Thankfully, she would only roll around for a bit, burying herself deeper beneath the sheets. In reality he needn't be worried, as Paimon was a very deep sleeper, the scent of cooked food one of the only things that succeeded in waking her up.
"You make things... difficult for me."
"I'm sorry." he said, and he meant it.
There were few things Aether truly hated in this world, if any at all. He didn't even hate the Unknown God, or the Abyss - he only wanted answers. However, seeing Raiden saddened or upset left him with a bitter taste in his mouth.
"I might have to lock you up in here for your own good."
He chuckled nervously.
"H- Hey, now! Let's not get ahead of ourselves… think of all the adventures we'd be missing out on!"
"That is precisely the point." she replied, her expression unfalteringly deadpan, even in the face of the largest puppy dog eyes he could manage.
Believing the battle of wills all but lost, he was surprised when Raiden leaned over, nuzzling into his chest. It stung a little, but he found that he didn't mind it at all.
"Go back to sleep, Aether." she whispered.
"Yes, dear."
His hand wandered of its own accord, finding that place atop her head that she so adored. Trailing circles absent-mindedly, eyelids growing heavier with each passing second, an ancient poem came to mind.
Shifting seasons and elusive dreams, the ephemeral and fleeting, with thine companionship, all are eternal.
"I love you, Raiden Ei."