"𝐈 𝐇𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐂𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐄 𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐔𝐒."
in which a pair of childhood friends get torn apart by the tides of time and trauma. they're noth...
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▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃ do not sell me dreams when i have walked through nightmares ▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
spending your last few hours in liyue left you dejected. of course, you would return whenever lady ningguang had requested, but liyue had taken you in as if you were one of their own. you admit, you'll miss the people, the cuisine, but probably not the medicine that doctor baizhu gave whenever you fell ill in the colder months (which was quite often, you were always prone to fevers in the winter).
the sun hadn't even crossed the horizon line at this time, only the orange hues had lit up the spring sky while the stars above looked down at the sleeping city of liyue.
you didn't have many belongings to bring back with you to mondstadt. you insisted that zhongli just keep the souvenirs in the bedroom you stayed in for the two years you were in liyue so you had less to carry on yourself.
"ready to go?" you turned your head to the man, giving him a slight nod as you overlooked the city one last time. "let's set off, we should be there by dusk." for the first twenty or-so minutes of the long trek back, you two had said nothing to each other. you had heard your fair stories around the city, especially near the northland bank.
"yeah, apparently some guy went on a total rampage in snezhnaya, killed lots of our agents. one of us had almost killed him, but he got away." is what your informant told you. you didn't know who exactly, but the man beside you did fit a lot of the criteria you had dug up.
"hey, diluc, can i ask you a question?" you asked, hearing him hum in response. "there's been talk about someone going on a long-term rampage, attacking fatui camps and such." taking a pause to observe his face, you noticed his expression didn't waver at your words. "was that you, by any chance?"
he sighed, lowering his head. "yes, that was me." you pressed your lips in a thin line, not really sure how to feel about it. you couldn't protest much since you have had your share of blood on your hands in the span of 2 years.
the stinging scent of metal lay upon your lips as if you had licked an iron bar. the scene was rancid. bodies of different status' lay immobile while pools of blood only had drowned out your other instincts to go mad. a soft breath had escaped your chapped lips as a painful chuckle from your throat threw out. you laughed, your hands caressing your own face as blood smeared across your s/c features. insanity, is what they labelled it as.
you wondered if life would be different if you had not taken this job. would madness have still taken your hand and guided you down a blood-stained road?
would you still be the same happy-go-lucky girl you wanted back in your life? the answer will always be no. from the moment your father had decided to join hands with the tsaritsa, you knew your life would be fucked one way or another. what's one deranged experience to another twenty? another fifty even.
