Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The golden tip of a metronome traced slivers of gold in the air. Back and forth, back and forth, leaving a thin trail of glitter to shine brightly against the dimly lit chamber. Its ticking matched that of the grand clock next to the doorway.

The scent of parchment, leather and oak drifted past the dancing candle on an elegant desk, standing in front of a large, stained glass window, bordered by a comfortable crimson chair. In the mornings, a depiction of a majestic mountain range fell upon the dusty carpet. At night, the colors faded into the black sky.

In front of the desk, in the middle of the room, stood a telescope, a huge one, with a gold-rimmed edge against the silver shaft and a large lens directed up to the sky. The ceiling was centered with a clear, glass dome, revealing the moon and the stars.

In front of the telescope stood two figures. A raven-haired girl with a midnight blue hat, a red ribbon around the base. She stood there in her equally midnight robes, a thin golden ceinture around her waist, peering through the shaft with one eye, the other pressed closed. Next to her stood a boy with golden hair to his shoulders, a royal blue vest and rolled up white sleeves, his grand coat forgotten, draped along the back of the desk chair. In his hands he held a clipboard and a plumed quill, tracing a precise line from one point to the next.

“... Then beneath that, about thirty degrees to the left, an inch or so down, another one. A big one, twice as big as the one above it,” the girl muttered, pulling her eye away from the lens and straightening up, walking over to look at the paper.

The ink traced in an angular semi-circle, curving up and to the side at the top, sort of like a chipped elixir vial, or an unfinished citar.

She hummed in satisfaction, her arms resting on her hips proudly.

“Yes, that should do. Check for yourself if you so desire.”

The boy nodded, laying the drawing and pen down on the desk and leaning down to look at the stars himself.

“It’s quite beautiful. Simple and clean, well pronounced…” he muttered, his hand touching up the instrument in search of a small knob. Once his fingers found purchase, he twisted it ever so slightly, adjusting the scale of the night sky.

“I was thinking of a name starting with Via… Viatrix… Viatra… Viator, something along those lines. I can’t decide,” the girl said, picking up the clipboard and tracing her fingers along the ink, careful not to smudge it.

The boy pulled back and hummed, shuffling around the room, picking up a book here and there. He carried them in his arms until he found their rightful place amidst the rows upon rows of books, slotting them back slowly, one by one.

“We’re in no hurry to decide. You can think it over for a while,” he said.

“Yes, I suppose… I like having a clear concept of it though. Not being able to place it by name makes it much more difficult to actually read it.”

The boy laughed softly, eyes trained on the spines and titles before him.

“I will never understand the science behind that anyway. How on earth do you read stars?”

The girl shook her head, unbeknownst to him, and started cleaning up the space herself, shifting drawings and pages of notes into a neat pile on the desk.

“You don’t. You do it in the heavens.”

“I’ve never seen you transcend in such a way.”

“Not physically,” she said, slightly annoyed about having to explain herself again. She knew he amused himself with teasing her practices. He just didn’t understand. “It’s about transcendence of the mind.”

“Yes, so you’ve said. I still don’t understand that though.”

“Yes, I can tell. But it doesn’t matter. It’s not expected of you anyway.”

The boy turned to her, smiling softly, traversing the space until he was next to her, their shoulders touching as he tidied up a crooked bookmark and flipped a book shut.

“I’m genuinely curious though. Can’t you show me sometime?”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I need solitude. Not a single noise or distraction. It’s precarious business. One little shift in environment and I crash back down. Figuratively."

“Then I’ll be quiet.”

The girl turned to the boy, an eyebrow quirked.

“Do you really want to see that badly?”

The boy nodded, completely serious.

“Yes. Even if I don’t practice the craft, it’s better to familiarize myself with all fields of research, don’t you think? For possible future reference.”

The girl sighed, moving away from the desk.

“You just want to see me fail, don’t you? You don’t believe it’s possible at all.”

She strolled over to the set of sofas circling the telescope, grabbing the tasseled pillows and tossing them onto the carpet.

“On the contrary. I would just like to see you do it so I can see it with my own two eyes.”

The girl let out another sigh as she lowered herself down onto the ground, arranging her skirt around her, folding her legs.

“You do know your skepticism is completely unfounded, don’t you? There’s plenty of writing to reference if you want to dive into astrology. All with empirical evidence to back it up.”

“Yes, and that evidence was experienced by individuals in an isolated setting, with no witnesses. I simply want to… be around to confirm this empirical evidence.” the boy said, a smug smile creeping up on his features.

“Albedo,” the girl said, leveling a playful glare at him.

“Mona,” the boy challenged back, folding his arms.

“You know perfectly well that’s not how it works. Now, snuff out the candles, will you?” Mona said, settling her hands on top of her knees, closing her eyes in concentration.

Albedo moved to the first candle, blowing it out with a short huff of breath before moving on to the next.

“So you’ll show me?” he asked in between huffs, moving all around the room with quiet footsteps.

“Yes, if you promise to remain quiet.”

Trails of smoke danced up from the orange glowing wicks, filling the space with the smell of pyrolysis, sharp and earthy at once. Albedo grabbed a pillow of his own, settling down on the floor in front of Mona, watching her expectantly.

Mona sat completely still for a while, eyes closed, eyebrows scrunched up in concentration, fingers splayed out with her palms up into the air, as if holding the air with a gentle grip. Albedo watched her patiently, studying her posture, observing the way the moonlight reflected on the golden trinkets clipped to her dress, clasped to the ends of her hair.

He’d promised to be silent, but… nothing was happening. Then again, he didn’t exactly know how long it was supposed to take before a connection was formed, or however else the stars would speak to her.

His curiosity leaped up in his chest as Mona opened her mouth to say something-

“Is there any way you can get that clock out of here?” she asked, still not moving an inch, “It’s disrupting my concentration.”

Albedo glanced over at the clock, a tall grandfather model which was sure to weigh at least two hundred pounds. He looked back at Mona, who had one eye cracked open, watching him in anticipation.

“That’s not going to be easy,” Albedo said, “I may not be fragile of stature myself but I doubt even Cavalry Captain Kaeya could lift it.”

“Hmm… Let’s go somewhere else then,” Mona said, getting to her feet, using the armrest of the sofa to hoist herself upright.

“Like where?” Albedo asked, following her lead, already reaching for his coat, “You know I’m not supposed to leave the castle at night.”

“Oh, I know…” she said, tapping her chin in thought for a moment, eyes trained at the floor, “hmm… Would you be opposed to sneaking out?” she asked, lifting her eyes to meet his surprised gaze.

“Sneaking… Mona, I never estimated you to have so little regard for the rules.”

Mona smiled at him slyly before making her way to the heavy wooden door, snatching her purple cloak from the hook it hung from, next to golden hinges.

“I wouldn’t say I disregard the rules, exactly… I’d like to call it a healthy sense of adventure.”

“You’re just set on proving me wrong, aren’t you?” Albedo said, tugging an arm through the sleeve of his coat while he spoke.

“Well, I can’t help it if you make it personal. So, are you coming or not?” she asked, opening the door, which creaked with the movement, and swinging her hand towards the stairway it revealed.

Albedo shook his head softly, pausing for a moment before shrugging his other arm through the sleeve and jogging up to join her.

“Of course I am.”

The cold of winter nipped at the duo’s noses and cheeks as they trudged up the hill, dusting them with rosiness and snowflakes. Through the dark blue of the night swirled a gentle streak of violet, stars scattered across every single inch of the sky, some brighter than others. The moon hung low, a thin crescent, shining vibrantly.

They had refrained from actually leaving the castle gates upon Albedo’s insistence and had instead hidden themselves in the shadows of the garden hedges until they reached the edge of the neatly trimmed and manicured display of plants. The right side of the gardens sloped up in a hill, which Albedo had nicknamed Starsnatch hill, derived from the infamous cliffs that bordered the land of Mond. He’d never seen them in person, but he imagined that people would come there to watch the stars. He had, when he was just a boy and was allowed out past sundown.

For some reason, his mother had retracted that privilege when he turned thirteen. He hadn’t been outside to watch the stars since. His heart pounded in his chest as they walked and he glanced over his shoulder back at the brightly lit windows of the palace, scanning them for any figure passing by or catching a glimpse of them. They hadn’t taken a lantern, so they would blend in with the night to some extent, but Albedo couldn’t help but feel nervous.

It’s not like he always stuck to the rules imposed upon him that neatly, but this felt different. His alchemy equipment he could hide and his late night tutoring sessions with Mona he could disguise as companions catching up, but being so blatantly out in the open, leaving footprints in the snow no less… If he got caught, he was done for.

Still, he trudged on. Albedo had never been one to curb his own curiosity, and some part deeply within him was genuinely curious about the stars. He didn’t believe in any practical use for them. He didn’t believe they could contribute to any field of science, really, in a meaningful way. He didn’t even fully believe that whatever Mona reported back to him about their message would be the truth. And yet, he wanted to know. He just wanted to know what these stars had to say.

“Yes, this will do nicely,” Mona declared once they reached the top, posing her hands on her hips as she looked around the untouched layer of snow before her, “Nice and quiet, dark, perfect.”

Albedo remained silent as he watched her take a seat on the ground, making the snow crunch and shift beneath her. She resumed the same position she’d taken on with her first try. Albedo followed her lead, sitting right in front of her.

“Alright, now,” Mona began, closing her eyes and breathing out a deep breath, “even if what you’re about to see will be quite the amazing spectacle. I want not a single sound out of you, understand? Not. A. Peep.”

“Understood,” Albedo replied.

Mona nodded, then sat there in silence for a while longer. It wasn’t completely quiet, but it was as quiet as the night would allow. Crickets chirped in an endless array of tones, but it all blended together to create white noise. Albedo’s breath sounded softly, but the sound wouldn’t be able to carry all the way over to her, drifting into the sky like the condensation puffs of smoke against the cold air. The wolves of Wolvendom howled to the moon every so often but the sound was so faint, it might just as well be the howling of the breeze rushing past the snowy landscape.

Finally, after at least a full two minutes, something about the scene changed. Mona inhaled a deep breath suddenly, her head lifting up to the stars, her fingers slowly closing, as if grasping some invisible force. Blue light glowed from her fingertips and she lifted her hands, the light trailing upwards and leaving traces as it glowed brighter every second.

Albedo held his breath.

Mona twisted her hands mid-air, dancing around each other and trailing a circle into the open air in front of her, both of their faces glowing with the reflection.

Albedo gasped shortly, his mind doing a slight double take over the display and the sudden realization that came with it.

“Let me scry,” Mona huffed softly, a flash of light pulsing through the ring, filling it with delicate lines, weaving together dots and diamonds into a familiar shape. Like a chipped elixir vial, or an unfinished citar.

“Wait- Mona, stop,” Albedo exclaimed, twisting in his seat to peer back at the windows of the castle. Scanning for any figures, listening for any sounds.

The ring of light promptly burst into a cloud of sparkles, Mona’s hands dropping limply back onto her knees with a sigh of frustration.

“What did I tell you, Albedo? Absolute silence. What do you think you’re d-”

“Shh,” Albedo interrupted her, “please, let me listen,” he whispered, holding up his hand to signal her to wait. Mona let out an indignant huff at the gesture, folding her arms and tipping her chin up.

“You dare tell me to be quiet? When you just ruined my reading of the-”

“Mona, please.”

Mona fell quiet at the tone in his voice. She looked at him, frowned, stood up from her spot and dusted the snow off her dress.

She was considerate enough to let him listen, for any scraping of spears against cobblestones, armored footsteps on the dirt, creaking wooden doors being pushed open. Then, after a moment, she sighed and laid a hand on his bicep, grabbing him and hauling him to his feet.

“You’re being paranoid,” she stated, patting his shoulders to clear the snow away as well, pulling the collar of his coat straight while she was at it, “We won’t be found out from a simple little light out on a hilltop. But, if it’s got you so worried, let’s just forget about it, okay? It’s not that important anyway.”

Albedo tore his gaze from the castle to meet her eyes.

“My apologies. It’s just- My mother-”

“Can’t know you disobeyed her, yes, yes, I quite understand,” Mona said, sighing deeply. She dropped her voice and mumbled, “But really, the least you could do was let me finish. The light was up already, if they had been looking, it would have been too late anyway.”

Albedo frowned at her as she dropped her hands back down to her sides and began to stride back down the slope, her long cloak trailing behind her through the snow, “But, evidently, they weren’t looking. So you’ve got nothing to worry about.” She finished at regular volume.

Albedo started after her, jogging to catch up to her and fall in the same pace as her.

“Did you see anything?” he asked, looking at her curiously.

“Well, you didn’t really give me the chance to make it all that far, but yes, I suppose I did see… something.”

“What was it?”

“I… am not completely sure.”

Albedo stayed silent, waiting for her to elaborate.

“Getting a grip on the stars is a difficult enough feat on its own, let alone extracting meaningful imagery or descriptions from them. But… I did manage to catch one word before I was rudely interrupted,“ she shot him a pointed look before she continued, “Breathed into my ear just clear enough to make out,-

“- fallen.”

The ceiling of Albedo’s chambers held painted constellations, courtesy of himself. His walls were a dark shade of blue and most of the furniture was a rich mahogany. White curtains bordered the tall windows and trailed along his bed and an ornately patterned white rug covered most of the floorboards.

He’d started the painting project out of boredom once.

Albedo seemed to have the unfortunate luck to be both a morning and a night person simultaneously, often up late at night and waking to the first rays of sunshine naturally in the morning. This, coupled with the fact that his curfew to remain in his tower started at nine, made for quite some free time on his hands that he had to fill somehow.

He’d started with his own personal constellation, related directly to his birthday, right above his bed with that of his mother beside it to the right. Mona’s stars were somewhere near the left upper corner of the ceiling, right above his wardrobe. He’d made a point to ask for many of his staff’s birthdays so he could add them to fill the rest of the space.

They might just as well be family, after all. They accompanied him for dinner, although as waiters and cooks. They’d taught him all the crafts and disciplines he knew; fencing, chemistry, history, Sumeran and Liyuan, transverse flute, piano and painting, just to name a few. They wished him a good morning as soon as he left his chambers and wished him a goodnight as he retreated back into them. And yet they did it all with a cordial distance, a professional stance in the advice they gave him and in the tasks they performed for him. No matter how grateful he was for them, they would never see him in quite the same way as he did them.

He looked up at them often as he lay in bed at night, tracing imaginary lines between the stars and quizzing himself on their titles as he waited for sleep to drag his eyelids down. That usually took a while.

This night too, he lay and stared, hair splayed about on one of his many golden rimmed pillows, his eyes wide as ever, shining with the sliver of moonlight that managed to fall through the gap in the curtains.

His nose felt cold still, somehow, even though he’d been inside for at least two hours now. His body had never been the best at generating heat. He made sure to thank Noelle often for the heating jugs she put underneath his covers after she made his bed. A thoughtful little thing she’d started doing after he mentioned how nice it was to come home to in the winter.

Albedo let out a deep sigh and shifted under the covers, positioning his feet to lay against the heating element, feeling the warmth seeping into his skin, up his legs.

There were not many things Albedo could wish for with the life he had, he was well aware of that. He’d been fed with a golden spoon ever since he was born and had any and all resources he could ever hope to need. His clothes were tailor made, the occasional trip into town well-accompanied by his own personal garde, his room was spacious and his education was bountiful. He was sure to have a bright future ahead of him as King when the time came.

But there was the one thing he yearned for, had always yearned for as long as he could remember.

It was to experience Mond at its finest. At night.

Every Friday night, the Kingdom came to life with light, winding through the cobblestone streets, reflecting off the rivers. Every Friday night, the people celebrated their freedom. Every Friday night, they celebrated their Queen.

Albedo had never once been in attendance.

Many of the staff went, often in pairs, leaving their posts for the night to dance and drink and laugh and come into work a little worse for wear the next morning, but with content smiles on their faces. It was the way the kingdom of Mond operated, how they connected, how they remembered. It was a memorial as much as it was tradition.

But for all his privilege, Albedo still had the selfish desire to observe the moon from in between those birchwood houses, surrounded by a bustling crowd, engulfed in light himself.

But all he could do was paint the moon and the stars onto his own personal nightsky and hope their light would warm him instead. No one but him and some of the staff would ever even see those stars.

A streak of light rushed past his window, flashing through the gap in the curtains, forcing him to blink a few times.

Ah… they must have started launching the fireworks then.

The soft rumble of an explosion came soon after. Followed by another and another. Albedo didn’t feel the desire to climb on top of his windowsill and watch the city as he’d often done as a child. He’d grown tired of observing from afar.

He’d gotten rather good at tuning out the sound, in fact.

He turned onto his side, facing away from the window, and closed his eyes.

In a kingdom filled with stars, he likened himself more so to the moon.

It was quite the lonely existence.