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The wind carried a set of colored braids, it waved them like a banner and pulled out small wisps of hair that were folded so beautifully together. He would've been frustrated, but it was a simple fix. All he had to do was pull out the ties and rework the hair back into place. When the wind ceased its rein on his hair, he looked down from where he sat. People bustled around on the ground, living out their short lives and putting their faith into their god. He couldn't be prouder of Mondstadt, a home he grew so fond of. He remembered a time when he was more inclined to show his face. He'd strum his fingers through the heavenly strings on his lyre and paint pictures of beautiful stories.
He remembered feeling so human then, being integrated within society and being able to speak so freely with the people around him. Strangely he couldn't picture any of the humans he would speak with. Not their face, not their name or their smile. He couldn't have imagined it, right? People didn't get this way about dreams. He longed for that connection, that acceptance he became so accustomed to. His two toned eyes fluttered closed, trying to scrape his mind for anything during that time period. He wanted to remember, despite all those drunken nights he spent trying to forget. Surely there was something other than suffering in his recollection.
"My name is Diluc Ragnvindr. We met once before if you don't recall"
His head throbbed, but he had to be getting close to something. All he could picture was red hair, it was usually pulled back into a ponytail, but he liked it better when it was free of any ties. His slender fingers pulled out the ties in his hair, finally opening his eyes so that he could rebraid them. His middle finger held a gold ring, it had small rubies embedded around the circumference. It didn't match his outfit in the slightest, why did he wear it? He wasn't sure, but anytime he tried to pull it off, his heart twisted up and he could barely breathe. He was completely bullied into tears by an impression that he couldn't even replay in his mind. How crazy was that?
Venti finished up one braid, securing it perfectly with a small tie. He was reminded of someone else's fingers running through this part of his hair, but he was at a loss on what they looked like.
"Here. Let me,"
"Who taught you to braid like this, Master Diluc?"
Voices mumbled in the back of his mind, making his face feel heat like never before..or at least he didn't think he'd felt it before. Who was that? Why couldn't he piece it together? His spine rested back on the cement hands that held him up in the sky. How funny that he was being cradled within his own hands in the center of a city that worshipped him. His eyes partially closed again, the sun beating down a little harshly on his pale figure. It was warm, like someone who used to hold him taught to their chest.
"My little bard, you look so despondent..what's on your mind?"
"It's nothing worth your worries,"
He felt a pain in his heart like no other, making him roll to the side and clutch at the chest of his shirt. Perhaps digging back wasn't worth this dreadful emotion, it felt like he was dying all of a sudden. After a moment the pain subsided into a dull ache. Like a stab wound that burned until the endorphins kicked in.
He took a deep breath, and pushed bangs out of his face. He could finally move again, not weighed down by the intense evocation of the past. "Just what was that?" He mumbled, lifting his hand to look at the ring full of rubies once again. A slow rotation of his hand took place, getting a full look at the sun reflecting off the expensive red crystal.
"I was saving this for a different occasion but.. take this ring..and with it take my love. Even when I'm no longer here on this earth, as long as you have this, you will have me,"
"Diluc thats—…okay,"
This ring, it had to have been cursed. Why else would it make him hurt like no other? He couldn't remember a damn thing, who's to say a sorcerer of some kind forced it upon his finger and the plague that was erosion washed it away. Was that the red hair he kept picturing? Venti's two toned eyes focused on the gold band, his brows furrowed. How could one not feel frustrated at memories that were long forgotten? It wasn't even the fact that they were locked away, it was as if they'd slowly shaved away, piece by piece. His pointer and thumb gripped at the sides of the ring, starting to pull it out of its place below his knuckle. Tears pricked his eyes, making it hard to see, he wanted the stupid thing off of him!
He regretted trying to recall anything. He was a fool to have thought anything other than pain was going to greet him. Inch by inch the gold band climbed up his finger, it felt like someone was legitimately hurting him. His chest felt so heavy yet hollow at the same time. It burned like his beating heart was being ripped out along with the traces of someone he used to know.
"Please don't forget me,"
"I promise…I won't,"
As soon as the ring was ripped off his finger, the tears flooded his face, causing his chest to heave like he was throwing a tantrum. He was loud about it too, sounding like an asthmatic trying to breathe. He drew his hand back, ready to get this forsaken thing away from him. It brought him nothing but a burden, some sort of want to remember something that happened long over a thousand years ago. He wasn't a human and he wasn't in society, he was just..a god of the wind. Did he ever really get out there? He was certain before, but now he was having his doubts. Perhaps he'd never walked the streets of Mondstadt, did he ever actually perform? Did he ever actually witness this unruly red hair that was resurfacing in his brain?
"..I love you, I love you so much"
He gripped the ring in his trembling fist, his shoulders jolting with every silent, yet agonizingly torturous sob. Why did it hurt so damn bad? He couldn't even reminisce on the thing that had him crying like someone had died in front of him. He sharply inhaled, finally letting out a wail as the ring left his hands. It traveled far, getting lost in the city for someone else to find. Every part of his body screamed for it, yearned for it back like it was some sort of drug. His heart pounded on his ribcage like someone urgently knocking on a door. Eventually it wouldn't matter because every year that passed, he'd forget about it too. This feeling would retrocede, and nothing would hurt anymore. That's how it was right? It too would be nothing more than a fabled dream.