Regret (Aether's Story)

Chapter 4 : The Creation of Paimon

The hidden laboratory buzzed with quiet energy as Aether sat hunched over a crystalline workbench. The room was dim, save for the soft glow emanating from Lumine’s stasis chamber in the corner. She lay suspended within, her golden hair flowing like liquid light. His heart ached every time he looked at her, yet it was that very pain that drove him forward.

Aether had tried everything—scanning ancient tomes, experimenting with alchemical formulas, and exhausting every piece of knowledge he’d brought from his lost world. None of it had been enough to wake her. And as he worked tirelessly to find a cure, he began to notice a troubling truth.

Lumine’s reckless spirit, the same one that had made her so vibrant and strong, had also brought her to this state. If she ever woke, how long would it be before her impulsiveness led her into danger again?

“I can’t always be there to protect you,” Aether whispered, his voice cracking. “But maybe someone else can…”

---

Rinedottir had no idea about Aether’s secret project. She had grown distant lately, consumed by her own pursuits. Aether rarely saw her anymore, and when he did, her eyes gleamed with an intensity that unsettled him. But he didn’t pry. He had his own work to finish.

He called upon the most delicate and precise techniques he had ever learned, combining the advanced technology of his homeworld with the alchemical knowledge of Teyvat. The result was a being unlike anything he had ever created before—a tiny, floating creature with a human-like appearance, adorned in clothing reminiscent of his old planet’s traditions.

Her design wasn’t just practical; it was deeply personal. Every detail, from her bright star-patterned cloak to the tiny adornments in her hair, was a tribute to the world he had lost.

As he infused her form with energy, her eyes blinked open for the first time. Aether held his breath, waiting for her to speak.

“Where… where am I?” the little being asked, her voice high-pitched and curious.

Aether’s tense expression softened. “You’re safe,” he said gently. “I made you. Your name is Paimon.”

The being tilted her head, floating closer to him. “Paimon? That’s a funny name!”

Aether chuckled, the sound foreign to his own ears after so much time in silence. “It suits you,” he replied.

---

Paimon’s purpose was clear: she would be Lumine’s guardian and guide, a voice of reason to temper her recklessness. But there was another, more selfish reason for her creation—Aether’s loneliness.

Ever since he and Lumine had arrived on Teyvat, separated from their home, he had felt the weight of isolation pressing down on him. The people of this world were kind but alien, their ways unfamiliar. He longed for the laughter and camaraderie of his old planet, the vibrant community that had been wiped away in a cataclysm he could never forget.

By creating Paimon, Aether hoped to fill that void. She would be a reminder of the life he once had, a small piece of his lost home that he could carry with him.

---

At first, Paimon’s presence was disorienting. She was talkative, far more so than Aether had anticipated.

“Why do you always look so serious?” she asked one day, floating upside down in front of him. “Paimon thinks you should smile more!”

Aether blinked, startled by the directness of her comment. “I… I don’t have much to smile about,” he admitted.

Paimon crossed her tiny arms, pouting. “Well, that’s no good! Paimon will just have to make you smile, then!”

To his surprise, she did. Her cheerful chatter, though occasionally grating, brought a warmth to his heart he hadn’t felt in years.

---

When the day came for Aether to introduce Paimon to Lumine, it was bittersweet. He carried Paimon to the stasis chamber, where his sister still lay in silent repose.

“This is her?” Paimon asked softly, her usual energy subdued as she gazed at Lumine.

“Yes,” Aether said, his voice heavy with emotion. “She’s… everything to me. I made you to help her, Paimon. To keep her safe when I can’t.”

Paimon floated closer to the glass, her tiny hand resting against it. “Paimon will do her best,” she promised, her voice uncharacteristically serious. “But… Aether, what about you? Who’s going to look after you?”

The question caught him off guard. For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond.

“Maybe you,” he said finally, managing a small smile.

---

From that day forward, Paimon became Aether’s companion. She was a source of light in his darkest moments, a constant reminder that even in a world filled with despair, there was still room for joy.

But even as Paimon grew closer to Aether, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Rinedottir’s absence had become more pronounced, and strange rumors were beginning to spread through Khaenri’ah—rumors of unnatural creatures and experiments gone awry.

Paimon decided not to voice her concerns to Aether. He was already burdened enough, and his focus remained fixed on Lumine. But in her heart, she knew that the peace they had built in Khaenri’ah was fragile, and that the darkness lurking beneath the surface would one day rise to shatter it.

To be continue..