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Darkness, pain, self-loathing. These were, and are emotions that he continues to know all too intimately.
The burning ember hues of his hair were rapidly going out, inky black creeping up from the tips and reaching towards his scalp. He wishes to cut his hair, to pretend it’s fine, but he knows he’s simply running from the truth.
He’s regained parts of his memories, now. More bits and fragments than actual arcs, but it’s better than nothing and better than him being convinced that he’s someone else.
He wishes he were someone else. Perhaps then, he wouldn’t be suffering like this.
Fires can burn for long periods of times, but eventually they too will come to an end. Like how his hair is gradually turning darker, so too he shall pass.
Maybe that’s why he’s regained some semblance of self -- not as Diluc, not as Zagam, but someone in between, who’s lived as both. He doesn’t have a name for this particular identity, because it’s the shortest lived persona out of all the ones he’s had. Naming it would simply be nothing more than a waste of effort.
He grabs stationery to begin writing with; a fountain pen once owned by Crepus Ragnvindr, and some scrap paper left from his work as the Master of the Dawn Winery, and he starts penning down words.
Perhaps this is what it’s like to be Barbatos, with the ease that thoughts and direction comes to him, he doesn’t struggle with what should be written down.
To whom it may concern,
I am writing this as by the time this may be found, I may have likely succumbed to the darkness that has grown within me, and has slowly been consuming me from the inside. Thus, I leave my Gnosis here, in the hopes that it finds a good owner, one better than I ever will be. If you see what has become of me… Please do not be afraid to eliminate me on sight.
Some years ago, when Diluc Ragnvindr had passed on, I made the choice to become him, and accomplish things in his stead. To do the things that he would have wanted to, to protect the things he would have wanted to do. And so, I had settled on leading a double life -- as Zagam, Pyro Archon of Natlan and as Diluc Ragnvindr, the sole Ragnvindr heir and master of the Dawn Winery. It was a good few years.
I do not know when was it that a part of me had been tainted and by the time I realised, it was too late. It had latched onto me so tightly that removing it was simply impossible and from there, it simply grew. Perhaps it was due to continued fights against the Abyss Order, but as it grew, i realised my time was running out. And so I write this letter.
Please find Venti the Bard and pass this Gnosis to him; he will know how to take care of it.
Kaeya Alberich is now Master of the Dawn Winery, as well as owner of Angel’s Share. He is free to do with it and its funds as he wishes.
Tell Acting Grandmaster Jean Gunnhildr that I am sorry.
Send the traveller and Mondstadt my regards.
I truly enjoyed and cherished the few years I spent with everyone.
Yours Sincerely,
Diluc “Zagam” Ragnvindr
Ex-Pyro Archon and Winery Owner
By the time he finishes, his chest hurt so badly that forget moving, it hurt to even breathe. It feels as though a flame has ignited with him, but it slowly devours him from within, like he’s slipping into quicksand and no matter what he does all he can do is sink in and accept his fate.
He hears squawking and the flapping of wings, and a grim smile graces his visage as Icarus, Diluc’s loyal bird, comes flying into the office. It hurts, but the least he can do is tie the vermillion gnosis onto its leg along with the letter.
“Fly fast. Find… Venti. Green cape. Hurry.” He barely manages to gasp out, and the bird coos, nuzzles his face for the last time before flying away, out of sight.
At least that’s settled.
Just a bit longer. He can hold out for that much. In a flash of flames, he disappears.
He uses the last of his power to teleport himself to Guyun Stone Forest -- it’s where Morax sealed Osial beneath, and it’s where he’s resigned himself to dying in. It’s surrounded by water and rock, and he has no way to escape.
A look in the water’s reflection confirms that his hair is now entirely black, and the stars from his eyes are gone, only crimson hues left.
This is such a terrible way to die, is his last coherent thought, and then he lets go.