[ There's something of a relief to it, even though Aether knew that Baizhu would understand. He's relieved to know that the man doesn't pry more than what is necessary for a doctor to treat his patient, that he would know this type of chronic suffering well. Day in, day out. It wears on a body, takes its toll, no matter how immortal or otherworldly or impossibly perfect that body might be.
And maybe, deep down, though he also knows it's stupid — the truth is, part of Aether was afraid to come to anyone he knew with this problem. Because he didn't want to be the person who revealed that their stalwart hero wasn't so perfect after all, and even though he knows that his friends love him, he's also still fearful, in his heart of hearts, that they would think less of him if they ever found out about this. ]
...It's my back. [ He grimaces, reaching with one hand to rub the back of his neck as he sits through another flare-up. ] It burns, like a ipnched nerve, through all of the relevant muscles. I know the cause, though. I mean — I think I know the cause.
[ There's another reason that he chose Baizhu, out of all the doctors he knows. As a practicing physician in Liyue, as opposed to Sumeru or Fontaine, Baizhu has the distinct advantage of having treated patients that aren't human, like the adepti, and the yaksha, and even the immortal jiangshi, if one counts Qiqi among their number.
It, therefore, will be a shock, but probably isn't too much of a shock when Aether takes a breath, and continues: ]
My sister and I... we used to have wings. [ He shakes his head, as he suddenly realizes he's said something a bit misleading. ] Or rather — I think she still has hers. But after I was — [ a brief pause, as he struggles to explain what happened to him] — I was sealed, for a while, and when I woke up I didn't have my wings anymore. I'd lost a lot of power, actually.
[ Helplessly, he shrugs a little. He isn't quite looking into Baizhu's snakelike eyes. This is one of precious few times he's admitted to a friend what he used to be. ]
Losing power, I don't mind that so much. But my back... always hurts, these days, and... I don't know what to do for it anymore. I'm a little —
[ Frustrated, he wants to say, but he seems to think better of it, which somehow communicates his frustration better than actually admitting to it. He sighs. ]
no subject
And maybe, deep down, though he also knows it's stupid — the truth is, part of Aether was afraid to come to anyone he knew with this problem. Because he didn't want to be the person who revealed that their stalwart hero wasn't so perfect after all, and even though he knows that his friends love him, he's also still fearful, in his heart of hearts, that they would think less of him if they ever found out about this. ]
...It's my back. [ He grimaces, reaching with one hand to rub the back of his neck as he sits through another flare-up. ] It burns, like a ipnched nerve, through all of the relevant muscles. I know the cause, though. I mean — I think I know the cause.
[ There's another reason that he chose Baizhu, out of all the doctors he knows. As a practicing physician in Liyue, as opposed to Sumeru or Fontaine, Baizhu has the distinct advantage of having treated patients that aren't human, like the adepti, and the yaksha, and even the immortal jiangshi, if one counts Qiqi among their number.
It, therefore, will be a shock, but probably isn't too much of a shock when Aether takes a breath, and continues: ]
My sister and I... we used to have wings. [ He shakes his head, as he suddenly realizes he's said something a bit misleading. ] Or rather — I think she still has hers. But after I was — [ a brief pause, as he struggles to explain what happened to him] — I was sealed, for a while, and when I woke up I didn't have my wings anymore. I'd lost a lot of power, actually.
[ Helplessly, he shrugs a little. He isn't quite looking into Baizhu's snakelike eyes. This is one of precious few times he's admitted to a friend what he used to be. ]
Losing power, I don't mind that so much. But my back... always hurts, these days, and... I don't know what to do for it anymore. I'm a little —
[ Frustrated, he wants to say, but he seems to think better of it, which somehow communicates his frustration better than actually admitting to it. He sighs. ]
Sorry. I'm at my wit's end.