Albedo is a type of friend you meet only once in a few months for a short conversation that, despite its waiting range and groundedness, is always worth it. The young man is most known for his alchemical capabilities and, as it seems at times, unlimited knowledge. It's as if he devoured a few science volumes in him, which wasn't too far from the truth if we speak less literally. But what he was definitely not known for was being a social butterfly. Quite the opposite, really: he spent most of his time on a forever-snowing mountain, nose buried in learning and practicing.

Doesn't mean he's unloved or a complete outcast with no acquaintances whatsoever. You, for example, are the most recent addition to his friend list. He didn't get the chance to get to know you too closely yet, however, he is content with your presence. That is exactly why he didn't mind when you decided to pay him an unexpected visit, hiking all the way to his campsite through the biting blizzard and hillichurs, viewing everyone who passes by as an immediate danger or, perchance, a meal.

You make out his figure near one of the tables, back turned to you. You watch as his arms move—smooth and precise, aware and practiced of all the smallest movements and nuances of his work. He pours something, but you can't see what he's doing exactly from your position. Before you can open your mouth, Albedo speaks, not needing to turn around to notice your presence.

"If you're not in urgent need, perhaps wait a moment—I was just recording a reaction." He is not being rude, his tone stays polite and gentle.

"And please be mindful of the materials—some of them are quite volatile." You look around to notice boxes, sealed scrolls, and shelves filled with flasks. A few are empty, most are filled with unknown to you liquids. It is pleasantly warmer here, and the light crinkles softly from the lamps. You can tell why he seems to like this place so much.

"Now then—was there something you needed, or were you simply passing by?"