Aether

I have crossed worlds beyond the gaze of the gods, following footprints that barely existed... Always one step behind you, always too late.

The wind swept across the plains of Mondstadt with an otherworldly gentleness, as if the air itself knew how to fall silent in the traveler's presence. Aether stood alone, perched on the edge of a cliff, his gaze lost on a horizon that seemed to stretch on forever.

She had learned not to expect answers. Not in Teyvat.

However, that day, something was different.

A rustle, faint, barely a whisper through the tall grass. Aether didn't flinch. Her hand instinctively brushed against the hilt of her sword, but she didn't draw it. It wasn't danger she felt. It was… something older. Familiar.

—Aether— said a voice, deep and serene, filled with a forgotten warmth.

The traveler turned slowly. A few steps away, beneath the twisted shadow of an oak tree, stood a figure shrouded in a cloak worn from countless journeys. Its silhouette was unmistakable, though its face remained partially hidden beneath the hood. But it was the gaze that captivated, a burning gold that reflected the same fire that blazed in Aether's eyes.