ALCOHOLISM.

( 0 ) ' prologue . '

PROLOGUE.
the man who discovered the land of ecstasy yet had trouble as a child.

DILUC RAGNVINDR was someone who wasn't fond of the complicated matters in life.
Seeing no use chasing the uncertainties in the universe, he lied in the comfort of his simple memories, wandering the crevices of them whenever he closed his eyes.

Upon arrival, soft, translucent clouds would be painted roaming the late dawn, blurring the droplets of liquid gold from above into rays of warmth that would soak into his icy flesh. Never too bright in the day or dark in the night, dawn was as if a passage through both, resembling a rise of the new morning, a new chance. The boy would admire these skies for a minute or two, appreciating the dawn every time before taking interest in the ground below him. Aching heels would be seen slowly sinking into the soft soil, nature reliving his built up pain with the plush he felt. Cerulean waves could be heard not too far to soothe his irrational thoughts, a subtle melody really compared to those heard at Angel share. Crowded bushes would be seen surrounding the coffee shaded soil when he looked in front of him. Other than the plump rouge berries that littered the shrubs, he was alone to suffer. To slip one down the tongue, savoring it's rich but honeyed taste was all he did after sitting down in soil. Though never a compliant about bored, he would wonder if one day, another will accompany in this land, to join him in this delightful ecstasy of a berry.

But really, who was the boy kidding with such a foolish idea; If Kaeya, or Crepus wasn't present there themselves, who would be? The fathers who begged of him to be-wed their daughters? The men who sought to sweep him off his leather feet in battle? Of course not. Facades would be so apparent in Mondstat, but one would never dare speak about those who have them to keep the peace. Why open your mouth in order to disrupt they thoughts. As long as it never hurt them, facades would be plastered as if posters. Diluc could tell most have them with simply a glance, avoiding those who do with all his patience. But imagine his distraught when he finally caught his father and brother with one.

Pools of crimson were spread like jelly on his morning breakfast all over his milky, calloused hands that day. He tried to deny the truth, that his father never had a delusion and his brother wasn't a spy from some unknown land cursed by the gods. But ignorance could only prevail for so long, ripping his sanity fragment by fragment as every moment passed by slowly. What did he do that morning again? Did he eat breakfast? Did he train? Anger was all he could remember feeling, sending him off into a blind state of mind as he would seek to execute Kaeya the moment he uttered the words of betrayal. First his father caught with a delusion, now his brother admitting his facade, who would dare to question Diluc's rage.

The boy decided to slip back into his created ecstasy when he had finally calmed down, discarding his vision as he did. Diluc didn't savor the bitterness yet fruitiness taste of most wine wine as most of his youth did, but he did favor valberry wine; pouring it with little restraint down his throat as he laid in the fields of the imaginary, soft soil. Truly a comforting refreshment, it blurred the little common sense he had as he tried to think of ways to proceed on ward. The world was going to abandon him if he didn't decide quickly he knew, so an irrational thought or two later, he decided upon seeking the truth to where delusions and visions came from. Diluc knew well that this journey could steal his last breath so far away from home, but the sweet booze from before was muting his inner voice to reverse the choice no matter the consequence. And from there, he left for the regions far from where he used to love. Barley a coin to spare, a dull sword, two packaged meals, and some bottles of booze to drink was all he could pack. May the gods wish him prosperity he mocked, like hell they would.

After prolonged years that would leave many to wonder what would occur during his difficult journey, Diluc Ragnvindr arrived home to Mondstat. Scattered in gashes and scars, it was a surprise he even arrived; and soon after recovery, he was bombarded with the questions of the citizens who would never dare leave the safety of Barbaros (even if he barely did anything for their pathetic souls!) about the journey. But he who has wandered the entirety of this planet says that he carries no enthralling stories for those who seek excitement. Too many details and faces to remember he adds on; as if his eyes wouldn't linger on the graceful silhouettes that drifted past him so elegantly, or how the silk on his built figure wouldn't be drenched in vermillion after he arrived home.

Were these the secrets he chose to keep from the world in the end? The complicated matters and uncertainties he supposedly wasn't fond of chasing? A another journey was inevitable he realized, him long ago too young and afraid to get his fingernails dirty to actually learn the truth. But his body was aching, gashes were barley healing, and he could have swore he was on the brink of death simply from a paper cut sometimes during the journey; it was apparent his physique deserved a break. To be able to rest in the bliss of his imaginary land and drink all the valberry wine he craved was what he desired before he had to sacrifice his youthful body to the gods in exchange for knowledge. A journey so inevitable yet cruel for his destiny, it was as if the gods never favored him from the second life began. Who was he though to question their choices? He was young and naive to believe he didn't need their guidance, especially to spite them idiotically, but nowadays, it seemed like he did. Perhaps it was too late to regret what he cursed to the heavens before. After another chug of a minuscule glass of valberry wine, he decided once again he didn't need their help; that the imaginary land he would visit to again and again as a child would help him stay sane. So from there on, he decided to let himself drink all the booze he wanted and slip into the state of ecstasy for a month or two before he ventured the regions once more.

Pathetic, yes, but who was going to stop him? They knew exactly what happened that night years ago, so why try to prevent a loss? That was what he thought.

"Is this angel share? I got a shipment of freshly picked valberries— holy shit — why is your shirt off?"