𝐖𝐀𝐗 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ↷ diluc ragnvindr x reader [on hiatus]

CHAPTER ELEVEN. AND SO MY HEART BECOMES A VOID

( CHAPTER ELEVEN && AND SO MY HEART BECOMES A VOID )

❝ you find answers you've dreaded most ❞

—

HOPE IS SUPPOSED to transcend contemporary boundaries; cherish a desire with anticipation, to see beyond the dark veil of the world at large. Its philosophical meaning eludes you, butterfly wings of the concept fluttering aimlessly in the shadows. It too, like you, was lost amidst the cacophony of dissonance melodies; playing tunes with tedious familiarities though never recognized. Hope itself was lost, gone in the darkness with dim light. Anticipation was not enough for it to survive, that you knew.

Perhaps you had lost hope long ago. That there was no need for such optimism when you fundamentally had nothing to stand upon - to glance at the world and feel joyous towards it.

You recognized such a fact when you gaze upon the examples of Fischl and Albedo. At first, you couldn't fully accept it, merely following along to observe the happenings - it was only afterward, in your solitude by the waters of the Ragnvindr Manor did you regain some semblance of control and cohesive thought.

Adoration as pure as Fischl's is hard to come by. To have such feelings reciprocated, you realized, is even harder. Her innocence provided a shield; her lesser age and experience too - or so you thought.

Perhaps it was circumstantial to you solely. That such things culminated in that accident that night, something that forced your hand - or as fate would have it, gave you a chance to start anew. Though you wondered to yourself if that was truly what you wanted before.

And then there was Albedo and Klee; though unrelated by blood - you recognized their familial bond. Undoubtedly, Albedo cared for Klee dearly and she responded with such childish though lovable gestures that can only be described as endearing.

(When watching them, you wondered if you had ever treated Barbara and Jean the same - and if that love was returned to you. If that familial bond ever existed; or if it was merely an obligation.)

You've grown to accept that you would never live up to the expectations of your former self - that you are unable to become the older sister they had hoped for. Alas, such truth was immovable. You still had a role to play, but this time - you wished to make something of your own.

To sever the previous world and create a hope of your own.

SUCH WICKED AND cruel games, the gods above seemed to enjoy manipulating you upon a thread like a marionette. Before you, a dilemma presented itself. To choose to pursue the life you once had, or to carve a destiny of your own. You had always wondered exactly how you could sever such differences when you were so entangled and tethered to the root.

Plagues of your past self emerged as ghostly nostalgia (or briefs of deja vu) that were vaguely familiar, placed just out of reach, at the tip of your tongue - just to elude you again. You never fully knew what to say; whether to play into the role of your former self... or to sever that identity in its entirety.