Published: 11/06/23
The Wanderer's Tale - Part 1
(LilyMaja's Fall of Teyvat)
Amidst the tempestuous storms and the roaring fires that engulfed the once-majestic city of Mondstadt, where resilient structures like the Knight's Headquarters succumbed to ruin, there stood Angel's Share—a peculiar sight defying the ravages of time and destruction. This bar, once a haven for heartwarming gatherings Aether cherished, now remained as a somber testament to the desolation surrounding him.
Much like the lifeless city and its shattered structures, his heart, friends, and family seemed akin to the vestiges of existence. The raucous laughter of inebriated revelers was absent, and the absence of Diluc, who used to stand steadfastly behind the counter, overseeing his intoxicated patrons, left only the faint creaking of the sign on the verge of collapse and the still, lifeless winds that disturbed the shattered glass. It stood as a mere shell, yet its significance held a tight grip on Aether's heart. A mere glance at it invoked a profound ache within him.
Despite the hollow pain, he chose to disregard it and pressed forward into the forlorn establishment. The bar, once vibrant with life, now echoed with the silence of memories long gone.
In the face of the battles he waged, Aether considered the resilience that kept him standing in a seemingly lifeless world; even a falling piece of wood seemed incapable of ending him, though the sentiment would be welcomed. His recent lessons had ingrained in him the habit of expecting little good to come his way.
The door had vanished, replaced only by an opening created by those who fled the terror unleashed upon them. Contemplating the aftermath of the Divine Horror's assault on Mondstadt city, Aether wondered about the thoughts of those who witnessed the initial onslaught. Grateful for his absence during the catastrophe, he couldn't shake off a sense of self-loathing for not being present to help.
Ever since the Gods of Celestia fell, the chaotic aftermath of their destruction had spread across Teyvat, with Celestia itself serving as ground zero. The vicinity around its ruins became the most perilous, displaying the unnatural path of devastation. Aether felt an irresistible temptation to journey to the heart of the destruction in search of answers or, perhaps, to succumb to his morbid desire for a selfish demise.
Lumine is waiting for me.
Shaking his head vigorously, Aether refocused on his purpose for being there. "I need booze, not dark thoughts."
Keqing would unceremoniously thrash him if she even sensed a hint of his darker inclinations, slamming him all the way to his head, perhaps leaving it lodged there for good measure—an outcome Aether, with a preference for death over humiliation, desperately sought to avoid. Time was of the essence; he couldn't afford the delay, knowing she would not hesitate.
His return from the hunt was anticipated promptly. Surprisingly, some wildlife had weathered Mondstadt's initial onslaught of Divine Horrors. Aether marveled at the resilience of boars, creatures he doubted could withstand the fury of Electro storms and Geo tremors. Yet, they endured, providing the village with a temporary source of sustenance.
Venturing into the perilous borders of the Red Zone, an area saturated with Elemental storms near the ruins of Celestia, Aether and Keqing embarked on a hunting expedition.
Amidst the fiery chaos of Pyro quakes, the earth rumbled with an infernal heat, a solid magma threatening to consume all who dared to tread upon it. The air, thick with the acrid scent of impending doom, whispered a deadly warning to any foolhardy enough to venture into its lethal embrace, where living beings would succumb, reduced to fleshy puddles before the relentless force.
In the vast expanse, Anemo hurricanes emerged as colossal wind monsters, their mighty presence announced miles away. The monstrous gusts, felt and heard, possessed the strength to snatch entire houses, flinging them across the sprawling landscape of Teyvat with ease.
Geo tremors, a manifestation of immense force, etched a traumatic memory in Aether's mind as he witnessed Dragonspine being devoured, leaving behind lifeless hills, unrecognizable to the world. The cataclysmic power of Geo tremors served as a stark reminder of the unforgiving nature of this crueler perversion Teyvat.
Electro storms, bellowing with malevolence, lashed out at anything within reach, gradually extinguishing life from those unfortunate enough to wander into their electrified realms. The skin melted away, leaving nothing but dust in their wake.
Cryo flash freezes, though brief, wielded deadly cold capable of snuffing out life within seconds, freezing the essence of existence itself.
The wrathful Hydro floods, tainted by the anger of forgotten gods, swept away any creature unfortunate enough to be caught in their merciless currents, dissolving them to nothingness.
Dendro smog, a sinister phenomenon, unleashed a hallucinative poison upon those who dared to step into its midst. The poison, a relentless tormentor, haunted its victims for hours or days, leading them to eventual demise through starvation or thirst.
Journeying back to Mondstadt alongside Keqing, Aether gleaned the intricacies of each elemental force. However, every piece of knowledge extracted came at the cost of a soul lost to the merciless elements—a grim reminder of the perilous path he navigated. In the face of such deadly beauty, death's embrace could have been his fate, were it not for the tenacious resilience of one woman who defied the inevitability of his demise.
Keqing.
Determined to witness his survival, she once wielded the threat of a death more agonizing than any Divine Horror, a proposition even Aether found absurd.
Nevertheless, he persevered, enduring to this very moment, solely for her.
As Aether observed the bar's gradual decline, regret swept over him. The initial entry, driven by fear and adrenaline as he sought refuge from misunderstood knights, felt like a distant memory. Now, all he could do was stand in silence, his heart echoing a hollow ache.
The light across the dark sky was fading with a faint beat.
It beckoned him to return, the knowledge of Keqing's stringent regulations outside the village dictating Aether's need to be home before sundown.
However, he hesitated, anchored by a purpose that propelled him through the perils of three Divine Horrors from the hunting grounds to this very place—the ruins of Mondstadt, a tangible testament to his failure. Moving silently across deserted streets, he ignored the distant rumbling.
Mondstadt, closest to the crater where Celestia fell, bore the brunt of a dozen Divine Horrors with each lunar cycle. It pained him to witness the city, which once embraced him into this realm, crumbling steadily under the assault. An eerie ambiance hung in the air, the city enshrouded in smog—ordinary smog, a result of the dust from nearby Pyro quakes on the desolate Cider Lake, veiling the once vibrant city in a somber gray fog.
Amidst this desolation, unseen and seeing none, Aether stood alone.
The city lay silent, a rare tranquility settling over it during infrequent visits from Divine Horrors—these were the moments that drew him here, a stark contrast to the desecrated soil he had tread upon since his departure from what was once his home.
In this realm of changed landscapes, Lunaria, once the serene valley of Windrise, had transformed into a settlement forged by survivors from Liyue and Mondstadt. Guiding them away from the perpetual scars left by Divine Horrors, Keqing led them to this haven, a refuge amidst the western regions of Mondstadt, now deemed the Red Zones. Here, Aether bore witness to the rhythmic menace of Divine Horrors that haunted the lands every few days, compelling him to watch and wait for the malevolent forces to recede.
To the east of Mondstadt, from the Starfell Valley to the Crimson Hill peninsula, stretched untouched territories, spared from the elemental residue that plagued the rest of the world. The Hero's Tree emerged as their operational stronghold, offering both shelter from the roaming Divine Horrors and advantageous terrain for defending the village. Nestled beside a riverside, it also provided a vital source of clean water.
It became a home, or at least, that's what he tried to convince himself. Yet, within his heart, a small ember of hope asserted that this was truly Aether's newfound sanctuary—an asylum against the encroaching darkness that held dominion over the rest of the world, a haven painstakingly built with Keqing.
Amidst the struggles against the whims of fate, Aether found a reason to endure, teetering on the precipice of demise for the sake of one person. He couldn't bear the thought of leaving the last of his friends to navigate the cruelty of this world alone.
A friend? Or a murderer?
The haunting words reverberated in his mind: Keqing killed her. Impaled her. That woman shed tears for the friend you lost and the friend she murdered. The cruel voice echoed the rage buried deep within Aether's heart, yet another voice, soft but genuine, reminded him of a painful truth.
Yes, Keqing had committed the act, Aether acknowledged, and his heart wrestled with conflicting emotions—anger and pity. Though he refrained from immediate confrontation, he found himself leaning toward forgiveness. To do otherwise would make him a hypocrite.
Since the Last Raid, Aether felt himself slowly slipping away. The air was thick with blood, an overwhelming cacophony of screams persistently haunting him. No matter how fervently he whispered reassurances, the echoes of his friends' rage reverberated in his mind.
"For Mondstadt... as always."
Her voice, a haunting refrain, still lingered. "Shut up, goddammit!" he yelled into the ruins, his words dissipating into the desolation. Silence greeted his outburst.
Confronting the encroaching madness, Aether buried his grief deep within. With a determined effort, he stilled his pounding heart. "At least the stains were gone," he remarked, a grim silver lining in the aftermath.
In the quiet moments, Keqing, too, wept. Her sobs, audible only when she thought no one was near, reverberated in the air. Aether heard her desperate pleas to rid herself of stains that no longer existed, and he couldn't help but empathize with her sorrow.
The weight of her guilt echoed in his ears, and Aether recoiled from the realization. It was wrong, his heart insisted. She was alone in the world, and Aether battled with selfish inclinations to abandon her, mirroring the abandonment of his friends.
Thus, the resolve settled within him – he must endure, not just for his sake but, at the very least, for Keqing's.
In the distance, a distinctly annoyed creature's disgruntled noises reached Aether's ears. It was none other than his horse, Invincible, recognizable by his imposing stature. During the settlement's early days, Keqing stumbled upon him, adorned in Outrider colors, wandering aimlessly. Bred for war and hardship, Invincible, indifferent to his previous name, displayed an intelligence surpassing most horses, although affection for Aether was notably absent. Their common ground, however, lay in their shared penchant for confronting the Abyss Order.
Caving-in heads in particular.
Aether, approaching the horse, spoke in hushed tones, "Sorry for spooking you. Shouldn't you wait at the gate? It isn't safe here." The horse responded with a disgruntled snort, directing an expectant gaze towards the dilapidated Angel's Share. Aether couldn't help but feel chagrined by the horse's perceptiveness.
"Don't worry, it'll be quick," Aether assured, hoping to minimize his time in the ruins. "I just need a bottle, just one, to keep up the spirit." The unspoken truth lingered—more than spirits, he sought a brief respite from the pain.
Invincible expressed his disappointment with a subtle shake of his head, although he neighed in acknowledgment of Aether's attempts to alleviate pain. Despite the horse's evident concern, he decided to depart. "Oh, so you were just worried then," Aether mumbled. "Good to know. Is that why Keqing assigned him to me?"
Keqing's perpetual worry was a comforting presence, even amidst the prickling agony. Her concerned eyes, a constant fixture on him, softened his heart. "Just wait for me at the gate!"
The steed, silent but resolute, galloped toward the gates, waiting impatiently for his inexperienced new rider.
"Here goes nothing," Aether mumbled, pivoting to face what he anticipated to be the shattered remnants of an entryway. To his astonishment, a pristine door materialized out of thin air. "That's not right; it was blasted open moments ago."
Although he dismissed it as a trick of his imagination, the door seemed decidedly out of place. Angel's Share was not known for having doors that emitted an otherworldly glow, adorned with his constellation engraved on the smooth wood.
When Aether turned back, the anticipated scent of Dendro smog, which usually preceded a formidable assault, was conspicuously absent. Instead, the air carried the acrid aroma of burning smoke from a nearby Pyro quake.
Contemplating the mysterious door, Aether mulled over his choices. It wasn't a mere illusion; the rest of the street retained its familiar appearance. Only the enigmatic door distorted his perception, subtly beckoning him closer.
"What if it's a new Abyss Order trick?" he wondered aloud. Despite the possibility, Invincible, his steed, possessed an uncanny ability to sense Abyss magic from miles away. Given the horse's untroubled demeanor, the door appeared to be an anomaly unrelated to any Abyss Order machination.
Not even the gods, for as Celestia plummeted from the heavens, their powers crumbled into cosmic dust. In the aftermath, deities scattered across Teyvat met a fate of dissolution, their omnipotence fading to nothingness. Aether was resolute in this knowledge—gods, once revered, were now powerless.
A resurgence of his long-lost adventurous spirit surged within Aether, a lively force eager to embrace the mysteries that lay ahead. The anticipation welled up in him, a palpable excitement yearning to unfold the enigma.
Gazing at the sky, Aether discerned the sun lingering distant from the horizon. Time stretched before him, and he decided to indulge his revived adventurous spirit. However, remnants of the recent battle's shadows persisted, trailing behind him like ghostly reminders. Unaware, Aether found himself gripping his sword's hilt too tightly as he approached the door adorned with a glowing sigil.
His eyes weren't tricking him at all, it really was his constellation as the sigil.
Aether found himself within a spacious-bellied magical space, a familiar trick employed by the Adepti for their personal abodes or secluded workshops. The worry gnawed at him, a concern that this magical confinement might become a trap, leaving him isolated for days. The mere thought of Keqing berating him for his prolonged absence weighed on him.
However, the allure of that drink beckoned, a potential reprieve from the overwhelming emotions. Sleep eluded him, his restless eyes tracing the flickering shadows cast by village flames. The haunting memory of his recent actions haunted him, and the allure of Diluc's collection within Mondstadt and the untouched Angel's Share building proved to be a dangerously tempting escape. It was a hasty solution born from a heart heavy with guilt, a way to either numb his conscience or discard the evidence of his misdeeds.
With the specter of death or a desperate attempt to alleviate his remorse looming, Aether saw no alternative but to move forward. He carried a burden of regrets, vowing that this choice would not be added to the growing list.
The Bartender's regret gnawed at him like an unwelcome companion in the quiet bar. For days, the hush had settled over the establishment, and Aether, pondering his options, scrolled down the pad, contemplating the inclusion of a box of Bendërbrau in his order. While its taste didn't boast exceptional qualities, the allure of a micro-brewery charm seemed irresistible, certainly more grounded than his alternative, Spice beer.
In the realm of fantasy, did alternate worlds boast a counterpart to Spice beer? Amidst familiar options like whiskey and vodka, or as the adventurous Aether dubbed it, Fire Water, there was a curious variety in nomenclature. The taste remained constant, yet the names varied intriguingly.
Aether, tapping his chin in contemplation, emitted a thoughtful hum. The decision weighed on him — which drink to order?
The stillness in the bar, once a breath of fresh air, now harbored a subtle concern. Fischl, absent in her pursuit of otherworldly realms, left Aether pondering whether the bar's magic waned in the absence of visitors. Since the enigmatic doppelganger's visit, Aether mused on the potential influence of the bar's powers on reflections of his soul, particularly alternate versions of himself. Could it be confined to mirrored reflections only? Aether considered this as a fascinating case study, yet he acknowledged that an alternate version of a certain Chunibyo from another class might possess more knowledge about the infinite multiverse.
"I swear, the next time she drops by, I'll concoct the worst shot she'll ever down." A plan brewed in his mind, a concoction destined to hit her in the head, face, and jaw — a bad drink for bad times, a reflection of the challenging moments to come.
Days managing the bar eased up with the academy closed for the entire summer, and Aether received some guidance from an upperclassman he seldom interacted with.
"Even my version of Diluc is a secret bartender," Aether muttered in disbelief. The senior student demanded how Aether uncovered his secret hobby of mixing drinks for the affluent. "A bona fide vigilante for Teyvat City." Aether couldn't believe it. Fortunately, while Diluc accepted his lie as a coincidence, Aether pledged secrecy to this newfound knowledge.
What other secrets did the students close to him hold? The thought lingered, but it was abruptly interrupted by the silver bell at the door, announcing the arrival of a new patron. Well, the restocking could wait; there weren't many customers anyway.
"Well. This is certainly not what I expected. Angel's Share did not look this small or fancy."
It didn't surprise Aether, but the guest who entered, visibly uneasy, seemed taken aback. When their eyes met, Aether sighed. So, it was indeed connected to his reflections across infinite possibilities. This is why I never dabble with magic that tampers with reality and beyond.
"Wait, you're..."
Aether sighed, realizing that agreeing to Fischl's idea was becoming a mistake.
"Greetings, welcome to Aether's Isekai," Aether smoothly greeted, gesturing around the small room adorned with soft lights that imitated the sunset, creating a warm, homely setting. "The bar at the edge of the multiverse." Now he understood Fischl's smug expression when she suggested that name. Aether hadn't grasped it then, but the revelation dawned on him now. He promised himself revenge the next time she appeared.
"Aether's Isekai?" the guest asked, bewildered and wary. "Bar? What? Multiverse? When? This doesn't make any sense."
"Mysteries unravel at their own pace." Aether paused, catching the reflection of golden eyes. Instead of the usual wisdom, weariness and suspicion clouded the guest's gaze. He jestingly smiled, "Rest assured, you're not conjuring this from your imagination."
The guest narrowed his eyes. "If this is some trick or illusion..."
"No trickery, I promise." Aether dropped the tablet, hands raised in a placating gesture. "Nor is it a mere illusion." With a sweep of his hands, he indicated his humble bar. "But if you're looking for an escape from reality, you've found quite the enigmatic respite." Aether chuckled, "Not exactly a normal place to grab a cold one, huh?"
Initially unsure and lost, the poor fella somehow shrugged it off. "As long as it has drinks, why not." His eyes stayed locked with Aether's, approaching the counter with steady determination. "Also, what the hell's an Isekai?"
Aether, having encountered blood-thirsty monsters in human skin that fed off human blood like disposable water bottles, found the immediate capitulation in this situation unsettling. Despite the seemingly normal appearance of the bar, the guest remained wary.
"It's a fancy term for living in another world," Aether explained.
The guest's brow raised slowly. "How could such a word be so nonsensical and obtuse? This smells, feels, and looks like a bar, but after the ordeal I went through, I think I have a right to at least make sure."
"Yes, it's a bar. The gentlemen's club is on the other street—wait, no, I think that was just in my world," Aether added, mindful of Fischl's preferences, who would disapprove of such vices near her establishment. "Drinks are on the house, by the way. No point in seeking profit when currency is useless in other worlds. Perhaps I should establish a system for that. I would be a terrible host if I welcomed my first customers with payment to escape their troubles."
"I don't need an escape. I need answers," the guest asserted.
Aether leaned on the bar, finding amusement in the guest's stiffness. "Ah, answers, the elusive quarry of the curious mind," he mused. "Perhaps a bit of humor might lift your spirits? After all, we're here, are we not?"
The guest grunted angrily, "Humor won't placate my doubts."
"But a drink will?" Aether smirked, gesturing with an empty shot glass.
The guest's eyes narrowed in suspicion.
Aether chuckled at the sight. "Ha! So that's how you get suspicious. Relax, I was just easing off your tension. You do look like you need a good drink."
Aether examined the man before him, comparing him to the version of himself he had encountered earlier. The first Aether, a past self, was a wandering soul with a vague duty—young, impressionable, yet wise. His attire was adaptable to any civilization, with soft eyes and an easy smile.
This alternate version, however, appeared weathered and gruff, as though emerging from a recent battle. A far-off look in his eyes hinted at a burden beyond Aether's comprehension. His practical attire, dark green and designed for functionality, reflected a lack of concern for appearance. Unkempt hair and eyes, though similarly golden, held a darker, more intense gaze. Aether was convinced this alternate self had undergone experiences that left his honor flayed, his desperation grim, and his heart irreparably damaged.
It was an eerie sight to behold.
Aether, despite witnessing war, had never reveled in it. Those distant battles of otherworldly realms were never his own. He fulfilled his duty and now resided among mortals in this world—owning a bar, attending school, combating monsters and demons, and presently preparing a drink for a wounded soul.
"A free drink?" Disbelief tinged the guest's face. "Yeah, right. Next thing you're gonna tell me is that you're an alternate version of myself." Slapping his cheeks in displeasure, he added, "I knew this was a bad idea, and Keqing's gonna kill me. So what are you? A spirit that decided to show my greatest wish to trick me into a dangerous hallucination to drain my soul or something?"
The guest rambled in a light tone, but Aether didn't miss the subtle movement of his feet into a tensed stance. "Well, I would say that being an alternate version of you would be the least ridiculous claim in this situation."
"How so?"
Aether chuckled. "Ah, my friend, if I were a sinister spirit, I'd at least offer you a more exciting delusion than a bar in the multiverse."
"And why should I believe you?"
"Because, my skeptical counterpart, the taste of this drink will convince you that you're not just caught in some malevolent illusion." Placing a sturdy bottle of whiskey on the side, Aether gestured with the shot glasses, motioning to an empty stool in front of him.
The guest gave the drink a hard stare before facing Aether with a skeptical look. "And what's in it?"
With an amused grin, Aether cheekily replied, "A dash of reality, a splash of intrigue, and a hint of camaraderie. It's a concoction that offers clarity, not confusion."
Aether's counterpart raised an eyebrow but, within seconds, sat down and took a light sip. "Not poisoned, I hope." When the kick struck back, the guest realized it was not poisoned at all. This time, he finished the whole shot without any hesitation.
Amused, Aether poured another shot. "Only the poison of curiosity, my friend." Aether paused, pouring his own shot glass as he leaned in to smile at the guest. "Now, back to your earlier suspicions. Yes, I am indeed an alternate version of yourself."
Aether's counterpart sighed, "Great, so this is some twisted cosmic mirror play."
Aether hummed curiously and nodded, "You could say that, though I prefer the term 'multiversal coincidence.'" He couldn't keep a straight face and smirked at the guest.
"But why a bar?"
"Why would it not be? This bar is the most peculiar thing any of us will ever see, but I stopped questioning it a long time ago since an alternate version of the weird girl from the other class stumbled into me and is now a respected and well-mannered woman." Aether hesitated before adding, "If a little crazy, and also dropped a magical bar into my lap. How peculiar indeed."
"How peculiar exactly?"
"Enough to describe a weird girl like Fischl," Aether snorts.
The guest's stance lessened but stuttered a short, "What? Wait, you know Fischl too?"
Aether shrugged, pouring himself a shot. "Well, it was another Fischl, another Amy, from another world trying to escape her toxic relationships." He grinned, amused by his counterpart's confusion. "Ah, but not quite the Fischl you or I know."
He paused, glancing at the brick wall on the side of the bar, where a picture frame of Fischl taking a selfie with his dumbfounded look mysteriously dropped onto the bar table one day after a few days he opened the bar. "This is the other version of my Fischl – a wanderer of worlds, a seeker of dimensions. Hopper of realities, and Hide-and-Seek champion for her relationship problems."
The guest gave Aether a bewildered look. After taking a heavy sip, Aether sighed. "Yeah, I know. It sounds weird too. But at least you don't have to put up with her shenanigans. I alone bear that burden."
"A reality-hopping Fischl? I never imagined such a thing." His counterpart sagged, "This is... unsettling. My version of Fischl, or rather Amy, is nothing like that. She's…" He paused, his eyes hollow and sad. "She's gone."
Aether said nothing, pausing in his sip. The multiverse, diverse in both fate and destiny, housed souls in worlds far away. As he shared a solemn drink with another counterpart, Aether realized how much he underestimated the endless possibilities of the multiverse.
"Amy... She was a steadfast companion, brave and resolute. But fate's tapestry weaves threads in diverse patterns, right? Is that how the multiverse works?"
"In a way," Aether replied solemnly. "There's no telling when or how, but it happens to all of us someday." Leaning in, he gave his counterpart a reassuring pat. "Across the multitude of worlds, Amy's journey may have taken myriad forms. In some realities, her path might have been different, yet still marked by her essence."
The guest said nothing but nodded. "I've seen her face countless challenges, but also stand triumphant. To think that in another reality, she navigates the uncharted, much like my own journey..."
"Nothing like yours," Aether remarked with a grin, "Not like mine either. We've journeyed through worlds, but never realities with the same face of our friends, worn by strangers who treat us like strangers."
"I find solace in that notion, knowing that across the boundless expanse of realities, Amy's legacy lives on." His counterpart gave Aether a hard look as he took a hard sip of his shot. "If the multiverse exists, that is."
"Still won't believe me, huh?"
"I believe in the drink, not you." He gave up and settled into the stool with a wary eye around him. "Never mind that. At least the booze is real. I needed that kick."
Aether observed his counterpart, who was sipping another shot as if he were thirsty in a desert. "You seem to need that drink."
The guest swirled in his thoughts but nodded nonchalantly.
"That's why I agreed to hunt around the wasteland of Mondstadt; I'm just here looking for a lonely bottle." He shrugged, scanning the bar. When the guest noticed plenty of bottles hanging on the wall, he continued, "Instead, I stumble upon a bar that exists between dimensions and realities, tended by a counterpart that looks, acts, sounds like me. Must be a boon holding this much booze." Eyeing each bottle, ignoring the incomprehensible language, the guest seemed to relax upon spotting a familiar amber liquid. "Is that expensive whiskey?"
Aether smiled, "I suppose you could part with a bottle." He dropped his pad and gave the guest a reproaching look. "Though, it might be best to slowly drink it from a shot glass instead of straight from the bottle," Aether said sternly, feeling generous, "Share another drink with me while you share the reason why the bar brought you here from wherever you were from."
The guest narrowed his eyes, "What do you mean? Does this bar just appear without your consent?"
Aether shrugged. "It goes to and fro, but with a common sign."
"Like what?
Aether wished he had the answers, but they always seemed to elude him. Same with Fischl; she hasn't visited once since the bar opened a week ago. "Honestly, you are my second customer. This bar is new, as it was just dropped into my lap not long ago."
"Then who was the first?"
Aether paused, a fleeting expression of frustration crossing his face before he sighed. "A kid from the 'world' of Teyvat with a fairy companion stumbled into my bar not long ago. He bore the same nostalgic smell as yours."
When Aether mentioned "fairy companion" and "Teyvat," his guest froze, the emotion in his reaction unclear—whether anger or indignation, Aether couldn't discern. "What smell?"
"The smell of divine energy."
His guest sat in silence, grappling with dark thoughts. "Is there any difference?"
"There is," Aether replied with a sly smile. "His smell is like chains of iron, encasing him in some sort of invisible prison. Yours? It smells like a fresh corpse."
The guest pondered that information, chewing on the details. "Was he like me?"
"Very," Aether nodded solemnly. "He had this fairy with him, Paimon, I think, and he was just starting his quest to find his sister. The door you saw and entered appeared to him in a crowded street of Mondstadt. No one else seemed to notice, not the other people in the street, just him and Paimon."
A heavy gasp escaped the guest. "Paimon?" He looked as though he had seen a ghost. "Starting his journey in Mondstadt?" He scowled grimly. "I was the same, with Paimon on my side. We thought we could venture forth without consequences. I was wrong, very wrong." He seemed on the verge of tears, but he hadn't let it all out yet.
"Oh," Aether said pathetically, "I haven't torn open a wound this early, did I?"
The guest laughed mirthlessly, "Those wounds are too old for me to weep now, no." He closed his eyes, as if holding back a small sob. "It is the recent wounds that haunt me."
Saying nothing, Aether retrieved a potent bottle of whiskey. The guest's eyes lit up, and the prospect of drowning his sorrows seemed to elevate his spirits by a small margin.
"I wouldn't dare claim that we are the same," Aether said solemnly, "That would be arrogant of me." He skillfully poured two shot glasses, his movements betraying the expertise of an experienced hand. "Instead, why don't you take a few sips and share what bothers you, fellow Aether."
The guest genuinely chuckled, "What should I call you? It might be awkward to refer to you as Aether as well. I might use an alias I've used once or twice; it ain't the first time."
Aether shrugged with a calm smile, "Call me Bartender."
The situation would have been comical, Aether mused, if only Paimon were here to share in the absurdity.
But Paimon's absence cast a somber tone over the bizarre circumstances. Magic bars, interdimensional Fischls, doors that exclusively welcomed Aethers—each element sounded like the fevered imaginings of a Dendro Divine Horror. However, the allure of free whiskey trumped the surrealism of the situation.
Aether's response was a casual shrug. "Alright then, Bartender, surprise me. Even if this is a Dendro Divine Horror fever dream, at least I can savor the taste of the whiskey." It proved to be a concoction of sour notes, potent strength, and a kick that found its mark. A toast to the bewildering journey.
And seldom happiness along the way.
"Surprise you?" The Bartender set down his glass, contemplation flickering in his eyes. "I suppose I could craft a bittersweet cocktail for you."
Staring at his alternate self felt peculiar. Aether couldn't help but notice the cleaner appearance and the absence of heavy bags beneath his counterpart's eyes. The eyes, though, remained bright, albeit carrying a touch more maturity.
"As I said: Surprise me." Placing his empty glass beside the bartender's, Aether eagerly anticipated the prospect of a new alcoholic sensation. "I've had a hard time convincing Diluc to let me buy the strong stuff, but he did permit me to indulge in the lighter drinks. The man still thinks I'm a young mortal—I mean, we do look rather young, don't we?"
The Bartender wandered among the array of bottles and ingredients, his eyes aglow with a certain curiosity. "Oh?" he mused. "I see that your Diluc is a bartender as well. The Traveler was the same, always grumbling about getting a drink out of that man. Knowing my senior student's counterpart, he's very strict but has a kind heart."
"Diluc, huh?" Aether snorted, a hurt smile briefly crossing his face. "Even in another world, he still sounds like a tight-lipped guy. Does he have any relationship with your world's Kaeya?"
The Bartender's gaze held a mix of respect and disgust. "Captain of the Sports Team? They're having a well-known rivalry in their year. Butting heads, starting fights, and trying to one-up the other is just another normal day at the Academy." His counterpart sighed, "If only they got along with one another, then last school year's fiasco wouldn't be such a disaster."
"Disaster?" Aether noted, finding the term intriguing for describing their dynamic.
"What about the other me?"
"The other Traveler?" The Bartender added another peculiar ingredient to the mix, giving it a vigorous shake. "I did say he shared your Diluc's penchant for denying you alcohol, only much worse. He hasn't mentioned Kaeya, though. Might not be too important."
Aether hid another snort, this time more genuine. It seemed this other Traveler had yet to uncover the complexities of the relationship between Aether and the Cavalry Captain.
"Still, an academy." Aether couldn't fathom it—a world where they all attended the same school together. The idea seemed absurd, the chances of such a scenario far-fetched. "Tell me more about them."
And so, the Bartender indulged him, delving into the tales of the Trouble-Trio: Amber, Bennett, and Fischl. Stories of their afterschool club escapades, which left them disheveled and dirty the next day, intrigued Aether. The emotional and physical exhaustion seemed suspicious, but the Bartender dismissed it, disappointing Aether and fueling his frustration at the missed chance for fun.
"They're from the other class in the same year, and they're certainly not my problem."
It became apparent that his counterpart hadn't truly known them beyond their peculiar exteriors.
Lisa, the treasurer and part-time library assistant, was part of the student council—an amusing revelation.
Amber, aspiring to be the Sports Captain, dreamt of becoming a famed soccer player.
The unwilling delinquent Beidou, part of the Finance Club alongside an imperious star-student Ningguang and a stern yet competitive Keqing, sought redemption for her time in "juvie" by doing club tasks. Keqing aimed to challenge Ningguang for the role of the next club president.
Which he both found amusing and tragic. Keqing did admit that she held Ninggunag with the highest respect, she just couldn't show it when it mattered. She truly believes that Ningguang thought that Keqing despised her when she died. Aether prays the Bartender's version did not make the same mistake.
Venti, a known trouble-maker in the arts and music clubs, was constantly at odds with the History Club president, teased the Kendo Club Captain, and troubled the head of the Middle-Schoolers association. Although the Bartender didn't name them, Aether could tell who Venti annoyed.
Aether found amusement in the Venti's clashes with the "Princess" of the Cultural Club and her "manservant." Venti seemed to make enemies effortlessly.
The tales ranged from the granddaughter of a Funeral Service director nearly burning down the middle-schoolers clinic to the comical exploits of a guy named "Kabukimono" and Collei against the leader of the Discipline Committee. The narrative crescendoed with the battle of the bands that rocked the school upside down.
Apparently, Barbara and Xinyan were rivals and close friends. An interesting bit.
However, learning that Jean was the student council president shattered Aether's heart. In another world, her hard work and accomplishments were celebrated. The next school year would be her last in the student council, and a bright future awaited her in her dream university. Aether had no doubt that she had a beautiful life ahead.
"...and that's how Lisa convinced Jean to spend some of the council funds to celebrate before the end of the year. It was a damn miracle that it happened." The Bartender chuckled as he mixed the drink. Aether grew envious of the easy smile that was sent his way. "Oh, and here's your drink, by the way."
Just the scent alone was enough to parch his throat. "What's that?"
"Tranquil Reminiscence." The Bartender then added some... flowers? "It's a pretty easy mix when you know and have the ingredients. It's the first time I've ever mixed this, though." The Bartender gave him an odd look. "It's just Bourbon with a little surprise."
He gestured to the preparation he set up while unknowingly sharing tales of Aether's former comrades, and the scent of honey and flowers wafted through the air. "Just add some aromatic bitters, alongside fresh honey and chamomile, and we're done." A glass of golden amber liquid, with ice and flowers, reminded Aether of simpler times. "Oh! I've added the lemon juice to swirl with the mix. It makes for a good quench-seeker."
The strong scent of fresh spring alone nearly made Aether shed tears. "Hmm." Taking a sip, Aether already fell in love with the bitter taste, tinged with sugary sweetness lingering in the mouth. "Not bad."
"What did I tell you?" The Bartender had pride on his face. "Fischl was right; I am good at this."
"You really are…" Aether admitted, his gaze shifting to the blossoms floating atop his glass, each petal a memory waiting to be unfolded.
The bourbon scorched his palate, an intense flavor reminiscent of copper—an unfortunate reminder for Aether, as blood would be. Before the descent into darker thoughts, the honey intervened, caressing his aching heart with a soothing aftertaste. The fresh lemon juice, a burst of brightness, tempted him to anticipate the next sip.
"Take slower sips; it's meant to be a slow, meticulous process," the Bartender advised.
"I agree," Aether replied in a hushed voice, savoring another gentle gulp. "It brings back memories of days long past, just like its name suggests. I find solace in this drink. It surpasses my expectations, especially considering the trouble of me getting here. Monstadt ruins are the hardest to navigate around these parts."
The Bartender hesitated briefly before broaching a delicate subject. "Enough to share some of your burdens?"
In response, Aether's eyes darkened, reflecting the shadows of memories he carried. He responded with a blunt question, "When was the last time you saw a good friend impaled by someone close to you too? I chose a friend over another that day. Would you?"
The Bartender, empathetic but careful with his words, admitted, "I have and haven't, can and couldn't. I'll never comprehend your pain, but that doesn't mean I won't help ease it. Alcohol only goes so far. So, why not let me listen to what weighs on your heart?"
A few minutes have passed, yet Aether sat in silence. Enjoying every sip of his drink.
Aether's voice, heavy with the weight of unspeakable experiences, cut through the dimly lit ambiance of the bar, like a blade slicing through the shadows. "Have you ever been in a clash that turns into a nightmare? I saw Mona, Albedo, Childe—all of them. They were linked to the Abyss in some way. And they're gone now."
Mona's sacrifice lingered in his mind, a poignant testament to the lengths she went to buy precious moments for their cause. She faced the abyssal onslaught with unwavering determination, embracing the darkness so others could bask in fleeting rays of success.
Albedo, a stalwart companion, remained by his side until the very last moment. The memories of their shared struggles, battles fought shoulder to shoulder, were etched into Aether's soul. Albedo's departure left an indelible mark, a void that echoed with the silent whispers of camaraderie.
Childe's ordeal struck a chord of dread within Aether's heart. The mere thought of fighting against the reanimated forms of his own kin, once bound by blood and love, sent shivers down his spine. It was a nightmarish scenario, a grotesque distortion of valor and affection. The horrors that Childe faced, the cacophony of undead echoes haunting him, left Aether grappling with the depth of despair his comrade must have endured.
The Bartender sighed, "Me and my big mouth. I'm guessing there's more?"
"Much worse than that."
In the dim glow of the bar, Aether's gaze became distant, lost in the labyrinth of memories that each name carried. The weight of loss and the horrors of their final moments pressed upon him, and he found solace in sharing these burdens, laying bare the scars etched on his soul.
The Bartender, a sage presence behind the worn counter, acknowledged the gravity of Aether's pain with a nod, the understanding etched in the lines of his face. "Tough times. Losing friends, especially in a clash like that, leaves scars."
"You don't really know how it feels." Aether scowled into his drained glass, his gaze heavy with the weight of a thousand memories. He lingered on the rim, tracing his fingers over the edge. "I prefer the scars on my skin. Whatever the battles we fought, I truly prefer to lose a limb than a friend."
The room seemed to echo with the quiet agony of Aether's words. He tossed back the remnants of his drink, the amber liquid a bittersweet reminder of camaraderie lost. The Bartender, attuned to the silent symphony of heartache, observed the play of emotions on Aether's face.
Aether's eyes, twin mirrors reflecting the shadows of the past, wandered into the distance. He was as a soul adrift, seeking solace in the unseen horizon. "In his last breaths," Aether recounted, his voice carrying the echoes of grief like a haunting melody, "Albedo urged me to move forward, to rebuild from the ruins. 'A day of living is a day of hope,' he said."
"Sounds like he left you with a heavy burden. What's keeping you from moving forward?" The Bartender posed the question gently, the bar's ambient hum a backdrop to the poignant conversation.
Aether's grip tightened around the glass, a physical manifestation of the weight he carried. "I'm trying, but the images, the memories—it's like they're etched into my soul. I can't shake them off."
Leaning in, the Bartender offered a voice of compassion. "Aether, healing takes time. You don't have to carry it all alone. Sometimes, sharing the burden is the first step."
The words, pregnant with the weight of profound significance, lingered in the air like a delicate melody echoing through the dimly lit bar. Aether's internal struggle to embrace the wisdom embedded in that advice permeated the atmosphere—a silent plea etched into the lines of his furrowed brow.
"I don't know."
The Bartender halted in his meticulous glass wiping. "You don't know?"
"I don't want to know," Aether corrected himself with a heavy sigh. His gaze was fixed on the worn surface of the counter, as if searching for answers in its grains. "There's raids today, foraging for food in dangerous areas the next, a funeral of some poor sod after, and the raid continues tomorrow." The cyclical nature of the chaos weighed on him, an unrelenting drumbeat of despair.
"So, does the alcohol help?" The Bartender's voice carried a hopeful undertone, as if the mere act of asking could offer solace.
Aether, after a moment of contemplative silence, emitted a deep snort that resonated with a bitter truth. "No," he replied, shaking his head in a gesture of despair. "It does not."
Perplexed, the Bartender pressed gently, "Then why have you come seeking some bottles in these ruins?"
Aether's admission was laden with a heavy sigh. "I wasn't," he confessed, a dryness accentuating the weariness in his voice. "I wasn't looking for a bottle of Dandelion wine. It was gone long ago. I was just fooling myself." His gloved hands tightened, the creaking of the material underscoring the internal struggle. "I just wanted to get lost in the nostalgia."
The Angel's Share, standing resilient amidst the wreckage, held an indelible place in Aether's heart. The memories of camaraderie and adventure, once etched into its walls, were now but echoes fading with each passing day of the Divine Horrors' siege on the city. Aether's futile desire to halt the decay of those ruins mirrored the futility of preserving the cherished moments he longed to hold onto. The dream of reclaiming what was lost had become a bitter mirage, leaving Aether disillusioned and adrift in the ruins of both a bar and the memories it once cradled.
The Bartender's gaze held a flicker of realization, a subtle spark that hinted at a newfound understanding. "Hmm, maybe that's why," he murmured, his voice carrying the weight of unspoken revelations.
Aether's curiosity was piqued, and he pressed, "Why's what?"
The Bartender's smile, though tinged with sorrow, spoke of a wisdom born from experiences etched into the fabric of his soul. "A day of living is a day of hope."
The resonance of Albedo's voice echoed in the depths of Aether's heart. The memory gripped him—the visceral image of holding Albedo's blood-stained hands, the anguished cries of injustice that reverberated through Aether's very being. Aether shook his head, attempting to dispel the haunting recollection. "What?" His question emerged in a raspy, almost desperate tone. "Why did you repeat those words?"
The Bartender chuckled, an enigmatic sound that held the weight of shared understanding. "How many days have you lived since you promised your friend?"
The memories surged, days blending into one another, a relentless march forward since that fateful encounter with Albedo. Aether struggled to count the passing time, but amidst the haze of war, one face emerged—Keqing, miraculously alive after the devastation.
"Months," Aether replied hesitantly, the weight of the hundred days bearing down on him. "A hundred days at least. Why?"
The Bartender's eyes sparkled with a kindled light. "Congrats then, you've got a hundred days of hope. You've kept your promise of living. A hundred days, and more days to come." The proclamation hung in the air, a bittersweet acknowledgment of survival and the endurance of hope amidst the ruins of a once-shattered world.
"Is that why…?"
His reunion with Keqing revealed a grim truth; they were alone in this desolate new world. All they had were the clothes on their back, the terrified survivors that they led, and each other. Each day was a struggle to survive, never truly enjoying the gift of each other's companionship.
Noticing the longing look on Aethers face, the Bartender asked with a sly smirk, "Now, who's the lucky soul you are thinking of now?"
Aether, embarrassed to have been caught, blushed, "No, it wasn't like that!"
"Wasn't like what?"
Aether wanted to sucker punch the Bartender, but his heart did ask the same question: Where does the relationship of theirs go from here?
"I'm not really sure."
The Bartender scoffs, "Why not? What have you got to lose at this point?"
As the echoes of the tumultuous fallout with Jean and Eula reverberated through the village, Aether discovered himself adrift in the turbulent currents of emotion. The unspoken tension between him and Keqing lingered, a palpable heaviness that cast shadows over their carefully established co-leadership. The village, once a haven of stability, now felt like a fragile tapestry unraveling at the edges.
"The village."
"Ah," The Bartender flinched, sensing the gravity of the response.
"We might've had something, if not for the responsibilities we have to bear on those days." Aether's voice carried the weariness of a soul stretched thin by the demands of survival, especially now, after his own "friends" had turned their backs, or worse, deemed him a monster. He couldn't say. "Not to mention, what happened just a few days ago…"
"What happened?" The Bartender leaned in, an act of silent solidarity that momentarily lifted Aether's heavy heart.
"Let's just say I am not the only one processing what happened. You see, Jean had led some of the survivors to Starfell lake, thinking it was a safe refuge amid the collapsing city of Mondstadt.
There was a dark look from the Bartender. "And it wasn't?"
"For a while, it was fine until some of the Elemental surge grew uncontrollable." Aether shrugged, as if trying to shake off the memories that clung like shadows. "Keqing and I led our own survivors from Liyue, originally directed by Keqing to the north. I thought that Mondstadt might've been spared the apocalyptic destruction from the Fall of Celestia, and I was right for most of it."
"Most of it?"
Aether shuddered as the haunting memories replayed in his mind. "Literally most of it. The western regions of the Crown, Old Mondstadt, and Cider Lake were near Ground Zero of the Ruins of Celestia."
"Ground Zero?" The Bartender's weariness mirrored the heavy toll that each mention of the disaster seemed to inflict.
Aether huffed in anger, his frustration palpable. "Apparently, when Celestia fell, and when the gods perished, the elemental powers held by the Seven Archons were unleashed throughout the world. More prominently, near the crash site of the ruins of Celestia. Just walking in there would melt your skin, or pulverize you if you weren't careful."
"Is that what a 'Divine Horror' is?" The Bartender's face paled, sensing the gravity of the term.
"That's the name we call it," Aether nodded grimly, "Something of divine origin with horrible consequences. The first time I encountered one wasn't pretty at all. A fisherman from Liyue stepped into a Dendro smog, and we could only listen to his growing insanity before we were forced to leave him, lest we join him too."
Keqing blamed herself for that one, and still does to this day, as the casualties continued to pour. The weight of responsibility and guilt hung heavily in the air, a somber reminder of the unforgiving world they now navigated.
"Luckily, not all of humanity was lost. We found survivors along the way."
The Bartender swiped the glass in his hand, the ragged edges scratching against its surface as if trying to erase the invisible marks of the past.
"Survivors, huh?" he remarked, his tone carrying the weight of understanding. "Never an easy crowd."
Aether nodded solemnly, his gaze fixed on some distant point in the smudged reflection of the bar's polished countertop. "Tell me about it. It felt like walking into a storm of suspicion. They saw us as monsters offering false refuge in those dark times."
The Bartender, a silent observer, raised an eyebrow, coaxing Aether to delve deeper into the shadows of his memories.
"Monsters, you say?" the Bartender inquired, curious yet wary.
Aether's smirk held a bitter tinge. "Well, being the Traveler leading a group of survivors doesn't exactly paint the friendliest picture," he admitted, his words wrapped in the echoes of past struggles. "We stumbled upon some Mondstadters trying to make a new home in Starfell Valley."
The ghost of a smile on Aether's face faded as he ventured back into the labyrinth of those initial encounters.
"Their first reactions weren't warm," he confessed, the somber undertone resonating through his words. "They were ready to fight, convinced we were more monsters in disguise. It took a while to convince them otherwise."
The Bartender leaned in, catching the nuances of Aether's tale with a discerning gaze.
"Sounds like quite the introduction," he remarked, acknowledging the depth of the ordeal.
Aether sighed, the weight of those memories settling upon his shoulders like an indomitable burden. "It was. But we managed. Eventually, they saw we were just survivors like them, trying to find a place in this chaotic world. We even got more survivors joining us, wandering the borders of Liyue and Mondstadt."
"I assume everything went well after that?"
Aether grunted in displeasure, bitterness lacing his words. "As if life makes it easy." The memories were still a vivid tapestry of hazy days, each thread woven with the struggles of survival. "After months since then, we settled at the base of the Hero's Tree." Sensing the Bartender's confusion, Aether felt compelled to share more. "It was a quiet valley, with a river to the south and a giant tree near it. The place was open and vast, offering enough space to settle and a good distance to spot trouble. It almost seemed like paradise at the time."
The Bartender scoffed, a cynical edge to his tone. "Almost? Considering the hell you went through, did you really believe at the time it would be smooth sailing from then on?"
"Of course not," Aether said with a brittle smile, the kind that masks deeper pain. "The moment we arrived in the valley, there were eyes on us. We weren't sure who at first, but we learned soon enough." There was a dark look in his eyes, a glimpse into the haunted corridors of his mind that he tried hard to keep at bay.
"Remember when I mentioned Jean leading some of the survivors? She led them to safety, north of Windrise, the valley and lake of Starfell." The name carried a weight, heavy with both hope and tragedy, a stark contrast to the promised sanctuary it once seemed to be.
A small, knowing smile played on the Bartender's lips. "Of course she would. Was she a leader or something?"
"The newly-appointed Grandmaster of the Knights, actually." Aether's response hung in the air, a weighty revelation delivered in hushed tones.
Amusement swirled in the Bartender's far gaze. "Knights, huh?" There was a subtle undercurrent of something odd in that smile. "Eula? Let me guess, in your world, she competed with Jean in terms of influence or control? Yet, in reality, she harbors great respect for her, even if it means conceding her own ambitions?"
Aether nodded slowly. "Yeah, something like that. Did that happen to your Jean?"
"Eula always aimed for Jean's position of Student Council President," Aether said with a grin, "But always comes second best. Been doing that since the early days, apparently. She's deputy, of course, but it might've wrinkled her pride for years."
Humming in acknowledgment, Aether recalled something similar in his own experiences. "My world's Eula always takes shots of criticism against Jean's leadership, but Jean always proves her wrong. Huh, how odd is that?"
"I don't know much about the multiverse, but if a version of Fischl becomes a reality-wandering hermit, then I don't dare question the cause of it."
The moment, tinged with levity, would have been enjoyable if not for the bitter aftertaste that clung to every fleeting joy, the specter of Jean casting its shadow over the present. Aether's gaze, usually vibrant, now held a storm of emotions—hatred, anger, despair, and a profound sadness that threatened to drown him. The Bartender, sensing the tumult within Aether, met his intense stare with a tentative understanding.
"It should've been a day of celebration if fate had dealt us a different hand. Instead, in those early days, they encountered something horrific. I was too late to save them."
The Bartender's breath hitched, an involuntary reaction to the ominous turn of the conversation. "What happened?"
Aether's words, delivered with a weight that mirrored the gravity of the revelation, hung in the air like a haunting melody—a melody that carried the unmistakable notes of unspeakable tragedy.
"The Abyss came draped in the banner of peace."