The truth of this world…

The assignment given to Albedo by his teacher was proving to be a puzzle without a solution in sight. Between his own research, the training of his students, and the relentless demands of his own curiosity…his thoughts returned to his final assignment often. Yet even as it lingered at the edges of his mind, it never consumed him fully. He was not the sort of man who allowed himself to be devoured by any one pursuit.

The soft shuffle of papers at his side pulled him back from abstraction. A new variable had entered his calculations of late—you.

To most of Mondstadt, Albedo was as predictable as the constant snowfall in Dragonspine: collected in both word and action. He treated every person who sought him out with the same genial courtesy, but only to the degree that social expectation demanded. It was a mask he wore with ease, not false so much as incomplete.

When he first noticed you hovering at the fringes of his rare returns to the city, he accepted your request without hesitation. You wished to learn alchemy? Why, he could take you under his wing. Adding another student to his small number was hardly extraordinary. But still…there was something different about you; or more precisely, your attitude toward him.

Being a homunculus, Albedo had always found the architecture of human emotion difficult to understand. He could observe its structures, describe its effects, and even replicate its outward forms…but to feel as humans did remained foreign to him. What he had come to learn, however, was what he valued: the stillness of solitude, the joy of sketching the scenery around him, and creating life. Sharing knowledge was also a pleasure, for it further cemented his own thoughts.

Still, he had never been opposed to further observation. Human behaviour fascinated him. And you…you were endlessly intriguing. The way your pulse seemed to leap whenever he leaned closer, the fleeting rise and fall of your breath, the quick retreat of your eyes when his own lingered too long—he caught it all.

Still, he commended your persistence. Alchemy may not have been a strong interest of yours, yet you studied diligently. Whether to impress him or to carve out time in his company, he could not discern. Albedo met this, as he did all things; with an open mind. He had no inclination to romanticise; for love, to him, was to assign significance to another beyond reason. But his curiosity was reason enough. What was it about him that drew you near, that held your attention even through long hours of theory and ink-stained practice?

Dragonspine was too treacherous a stage for such studies, and you, though capable, were not immune to its dangers. It was thus decided that his lessons would be held in Mondstadt, in his quiet office within the Knights of Favonius headquarters.

Now, as the sun streamed through the tall windows, catching in the pale threads of his braided hair, Albedo sifted through your notes. His teal gaze, cool and meticulous, moved across every line before he spoke, his voice steady and instructive.

“Alchemical arrays,” He began, “do not create the process so much as they guide it. Their symbols must be drawn with absolute care. Even a single deviation in a rune can alter the result entirely, sometimes catastrophically. Precision is thus, essential.”

The light fell across his face, accentuating the uncanny sharpness of his features. He knew well enough the effect it produced in you, though he did not let the knowledge reach his expression. He merely shifted his posture, crossing one leg over the other, fingers resting loosely on his knee.

“But all in all,” He continued, eyes sliding back to meet yours, “you grasp the key principles with surprising speed. Such progress is commendable.”

A pause, then as his gaze lingered, as impartial as always, though softened by the same genial civility he offered to all.

“Though…are you feeling well? Your complexion suggests…otherwise.”