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When he's all alone and the curtains are drawn — layers of thick black material, to keep light from leaking out — he stabs his hand into his own chest. It hurts and he feels as though he's being torn apart, but his fingers curl around a warmth far more intense than the hottest flame, and he pulls as hard as he can.
It's near blinding, but the longer it remains out of his body, the duller its glow becomes, hues shifting from crimson to gold akin to a real fire.
Doing so is a daily tradition at this point, as it serves as a reminder of what could have been, but didn't. Perhaps, even, it is simply fate's work at hand. Some things simply happen with no rhyme or reason, and this particular reminder is one such example. He doesn’t have to, and yet he does so anyway.
The vermillion gnosis dims marginally with every pulse. If he closes his eyes, he can pretend that it is the pulse of Diluc's heart, dreams. Everything that had drawn Zagam to him like a moth to a flame.
But even the strongest of flames can go out, and Diluc Ragnvindr is no exception.
It was pouring, and while the drake had been subdued, Zagam knew he had been too late. Questions floated around - what happened, why was a drake doing all the way in Mondstadt, how did such a thing happen when he was away in Natlan and tending to his people, did that man really have to use that .
Was he still alive?
Crepus lay still from the rebound the delusion had caused (fool, why did he have to?), and Diluc, while noble at heart, wasn't simply strong enough to fight against a magically reinforced monster. He was young, immature, and had yet to fully grow into his own power… Which proved to be his undoing in the end.
Ruby eyes which used to burn with such passion were now dulled and unfocused, even as the archon cradled the boy in his arms, his own crimson eyes wide as he tried, did his very best to heal the boy. But it seemed the drake left fatal wounds with anti-healing properties -- no matter how much he tried, prayed, it wouldn’t close. And yet, the boy smiled with relief in his eyes for some reason, even though they both knew he was already on his deathbed.
"I'm sorry," he whispered hoarsely. "I couldn't protect father. I tried, but..."
“You did your best. Stay with me. I’ll do something about this, so--"
"No. Please… Take care of everyone else for me... Please? I don't want anyone to go through the... Same... "
Every word drawn from him felt as though he was slowly letting go, into somewhere else. Diluc's soul was so radiant and so bright, even towards the end, and Zagam had reluctantly laid him down, a hand reached out to close those eyes forever as he paid his respects.
But then he stilled, as he had picked up on the sound of footsteps. seven, ten men. one of them was the foster in the ragnvindr manor — and thinking quickly, he regrettably incinerated their bodies into little more than ash. Diluc's blood clung to his skin, and his visage glowed briefly as he quickly snatched it up.
"Diluc! No... Were we too late?" Kaeya Alberich paused at the sight before him -- it reeked of ash and blood, as a fallen carcass scorched with burn marks laid to the side.
'Diluc' turned around, hair a little too vibrant and with stars in his eyes. But to everyone else, he didn't feel that much different, as he held the delusion behind his back and looked down at the remains of the carriage.
"... Father died from the delusion's rebound," he muttered. "His body disintegrated."
It's almost scary how pretending to be someone he wasn't comes so easily to him now — he works as Diluc, he fights as Diluc, and he even goes undercover as Diluc. For human things could only be solved by human means, and if uncovering the secret about delusions while interfering with the grand plan of the cryo archon meant that he had to masquerade as a dead boy for longer, then so be it.
And with a grunt, he shoves the gnosis back within himself, preparing for bed. After all, it was the promise he had agreed on and was fully intending to keep, that matters.