Against The Cold ~ Alberose

Chapter 8

When Sucrose woke up the next morning and walked downstairs, she wasn't surprised to see that Albedo and Timaeus had already left.

Her lamp grass experiments lay astray on a countertop and she walked over to organize it. She sorted through bottles and notes until something caught her eye. Her sheet of notes had Albedo's handwriting on it.

Sucrose had written: The cells mutate when exposed to certain chemicals. Why is this?

Neatly beside that, Albedo had scrawled: The membranes of the cells are not used to those chemicals. They mutate because they think they need to change in order to accept the chemical compound.

Sucrose giggled. "Genius," she breathed. "Of course he figured it out." Carefully Sucrose began testing out Albedo's theory, adding droplets of new chemicals to test the reactions of the lamp grass cells.

Of course, Albedo had been correct. Sucrose peeked through her lenses to see the cell membranes shifting, changing colors and shapes, in order to adjust to the added materials.

The clock in the corner of the lab struck eleven, startling Sucrose from her experiments. "Ah, right," she mumbled, rubbing the back of her neck.

After freshening up and gathering her alchemy supplies, Sucrose ran out the door and jogged through the city of Mondstadt. She could hear Eury and Sara chatting in front of the Good Hunter, and Majorie bargaining with her customers for anemo sigils. The smell of fresh dandelions flew with the breeze, putting a spring in Sucrose's step.

Sucrose had lived in Mondstadt all her life, and she never planned to leave. Her family had always been held in high regard in the city, and both her parents were in esteemed ranks. Sucrose's father, Ellias, was a cavalry knight for the Knights of Favonius, and he'd left with Grand Master Varka on his expedition.

Her mother, Lavinia, was a writer who told many tales of Mondstadt's great legends. Sucrose had very few memories of her mother, who'd passed when Sucrose was only six. 

"Sucrose!"

Sucrose snapped up to attention, seeing Rosaria calling to her from the steps of the church. Quickly she jogged forward, not wanting to make Rosaria angry -- her temper was something to be revered.

"What is it?" Sucrose asked quietly, not meeting Rosaria's cold stare.

"Albedo," Rosaria said stiffly. "Has he left yet?"

Sucrose nodded. "J-Just this morning, in f-fact."

Rosaria swore. "Ugh, Lord Barsabatoes, Jean told me . . . Bah, never mind." She sighed and handed Sucrose a ratty old notebook. Scrawled across the cover in red ink she could just barely make out For Albedo.

"You need to give this to him when he returns," Rosaria demanded. "He needs to know . . . just give it to him."

Sucrose looked up at Rosaria, her eyes wide in fear. "Is something wrong?"

"Of course something's wrong!" Rosaria snapped, her piercing red eyes stabbing into Sucrose's. "Do not read what is in that book, you understand?"

Sucrose, feeling fear build in her now, gave a confused nod and brushed past Rosaria. She clutched the notebook tightly to her chest and continued into the cathedral.

What was that? Why can't I read this? It's about Albedo, right? Why shouldn't I be allowed to? Sucrose's mind wandered as her feet clicked against the marble tiles. She traced her fingers over the "For Albedo" written on the cover. Examining the leather carefully she noticed something else carved into its surface.