Against The Cold ~ Alberose

Chapter 12

"Jean!" Albedo called, stumbling into the Knights' headquarters with Sucrose and Timaeus hot on his tail.

Jean wasn't there. In fact, no one was. No one except Klee.

"Albedo!" The red-clad child ran over to meet the alchemists, giving Albedo a strong hug. "Y-You need to go to Master Jean!"

"Klee, what is going on here?" Albedo said, wincing at his own harsh tone. "Sorry, I . . . Klee, where is Jean?"

Klee frowned and looked puzzled. "Wind-hail Wigh-land," she said at last.

Albedo hardy suppressed laughing at Klee's terrible pronunciation of Windwail Highland, an area of grassy, lush fields just an hour's walk from the city of Mondstadt.

Sucrose moved to stand beside Albedo. "Klee, why is Jean there, and why does she need us?" Sucrose asked the young child.

Klee grinned good-naturedly and took Sucrose's hand, giving it a few pats for good measure. "Master Jean and Mister Kaeya were talking about an Abyss thing and Fat-oo-ey thing. Klee doesn't know what that means though," Klee groaned, screwing up her face in a look of deep thought.

Anxiously, Sucrose and Albedo locked gazes. "We need to get my supplies," Sucrose said nervously, her eyes reflecting the worry consuming her.

"I need my bow," Timaeus added, placing a hand on Sucrose's shoulder as though sensing her anxiety.

Albedo nodded. "Right then. Let's go."

It wasn't long before the alchemists had picked up their equipment and were setting a fast pace across the windswept moor. When they reached a Barbatos state underneath a large oak tree, they peeked around its giant trunk and gasped in shock.

In the valley below, Albedo saw a few white tents and a large brown one -- the tent of the Grand Master.

Sucrose turned to her left, eyes wide. "Do you hear that?"

Albedo peered over her shoulder, gazing in the same direction. "What are you talking about?"

"You can't hear it?" Sucrose asked curiously, spinning around to face Albedo and Timaeus again.

Timaeus shook his head. "Hear what?"

Sucrose gulped, wringing her wrists. "War," she whispered. "This is war."

"The hell are you talking about?" Timaeus questioned, his voice shaky.

"It's the Abyss Order and the Fatui. They're finally attacking," Albedo mumbled. "We need to go."

The three alchemists charged down the hill, bottles clinking and weapons swinging at their sides.

They reached the Grand Master tent and forced their way inside. Jean was hunched over the desk, her shoulders shaking with every sob she heaved out.

"J-Jean?" Sucrose asked, inching closer to the Acting Grand Master and placing an arm on her shoulder.

"Jean, what is it?" Albedo murmured, coming to stand next to Sucrose.

"B-Barbara . . . ." Jean choked out, her breath coming in short gasps, her normally beautiful blonde hair disheveled and choppy. Her armor hung limply off of her shoulders, revealing her slim frame. 

Sucrose's eyes widened and a tear squeezed its way out of her eye. "No, no, she can't be . . . by the Seven, not Barbara-" Sucrose turned away and burrowed deep into Albedo's arms, crying quietly.

Albedo, caught by surprise, gently wrapped his arms around Sucrose, stroking her hair lightly. He hoped it'd comfort her, as it'd worked for him when she did it.