petaloforosirian [ ft. albedo ]:
there is something incredibly gratifying in seeing xiao accept the flowers from his hand. a feeling of warmth radiates within his chest, to have his gift welcomed so easily. looking at xiao, albedo thinks that yes, he was certainly correct, the blooms suit him. smoothing the yaksha’s harsh edges into something not quite soft - no, albedo was well aware of the power yaksha possessed, far beyond his own, and to forget it would be to do him a disservice - but perhaps slightly gentler.
brief surprise at the ease of it all floods through him, before it is pushed aside by the concern he feels at what the adeptus has implied. willing his legs not to rush, he sits beside xiao. for as much as he wants to allow the man privacy, albedo is a researcher through and through, and the thirst for knowledge is impossible to hold back, even in this situation. or, perhaps, especially in this situation, he muses.
he is not unaccustomed to seeing xiao after a fight. often, when he calls for the adeptus, he is fresh from a fight, blood still seeping from unhealed wounds. it amazes him still, that the yaksha would forsake tending to his own injuries in favor of hurrying to albedo’s side when summoned, no matter how many times it has happened. this feels different. xiao’s hesitancy to speak, his puzzling words once he does…surely he speaks of a more visceral pain that albedo is not yet privy to. and yet, it seems as though he is offering, in his own way, the chance for the alchemist to ask. and so he does.
“you do not speak of a battle wound,” he infers, turning to face xiao. he keeps his face guarded, but is sure that his curiosity is betrayed nonetheless. “there are many things left undisclosed between us, but,” he thinks back to xiao’s words all those months ago, when albedo had told him of his origins and fear of his future, “the truth will not change things between us. i will continue to stand by your side.”
the incessant pain that corrupts his insides is a vow of normality. there’s nothing like it. the sharp aches become dull from time to time, not because they lessen in intensity, but because he compels himself to be immune, somehow. it is a constant. he ought to be used to it by now… but the more he kills, the more he hurts. it is accumulative. he ends up having bouquets of blooming needles, pinpricking as his karmic energies fluctuate within. it is a myriad of cards dealt, sometimes he cannot stomach it anymore, but he must. he must.
even now, they haunt. poltergeists. he winces as albedo occupies the space next to him, the no longer vacant spot a reminder that he’s not alone. and he doesn’t have to be. but still…
the juncture meets. curiosities abound, but he cannot blame albedo—knowing the alchemist long enough, he’s certain that it is embedded, the intrigue towards anything in general. curses from immortality have bound them together in some ways, too, so they have been more than acquainted from the similarity. a point of view: albedo is a company that xiao doesn’t understand how to feel about, for there’s a smaller probability of perishing. fragility. mortality. those are complex, but albedo makes it simpler. whatever this is that they share, it is comfortable at the very least.
“there is no harm in letting you know,” he eventually shatters the pause, looking far into the horizon painted before them. vast, embodying. “you might not understand this, it’s not a common practice to… follow this anymore, anyway. i’ll say that the adepti bear their own burdens. mine specifically, as i slaughter countless demons, i accumulate some form of debt. the darkness, it’s from karmic energy that they leave behind. simply put, it hurts me, and there’s no cure to this, just the medicines to help alleviate the pain for a moment.” he looks down, now, to their dangling feet. “just as what you asked of me, i will ask of you the same. when karma swallows me whole, eating me alive, you don’t have to stand by my side. instead, stand against me, the way i would do to you if you ever turn into… something else.”
