Chapter Text
2:30 AM. There’s a fine mist rising off the streets after a light rain. The scent of decomposing leaves and petrichor hangs in the air. Diluc Ragnvindr closes and locks the front door of Angel’s Share, hunching deeper into his coat against the early morning chill. After a long night of bartending, there’s nothing he wants more than to go home and pass out.
Something cold and hard pokes him between the shoulder blades. A low voice, slightly muffled, growls, “Give me whatever cash you’ve got on you and no one gets hurt.”
Diluc doesn’t move. This isn’t the first time he’s been mugged. He doesn’t have eyes in the back of his head, so he’s not sure what kind of weapon he’s being threatened with. Could be a knife. Could be a gun, if this petty thief has the right connections. You have to jump through a ton of hoops to get a gun in Mondstadt.
Slowly, Diluc reaches into his pocket and takes out his wallet. There’s a few bills inside. He doesn’t carry that much cash. No one does anymore, not when you can tap your phone against a sensor. He holds up the folded bills.
“Go ahead,” he says.
The weapon digs deeper into his back. “I know that’s not all of it.”
Diluc hesitates. He has an envelope full of tips tucked inside his coat. Does the thief know that or is he just guessing? “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’ve gotta have more than that,” the thief insists. “I know who you are.”
Of course he does. There’s not a single person in Mondstadt who couldn’t pick Diluc Ragnvindr out of a crowd. This thief probably made the incorrect assumption that the heir to Dawn Winery would just tote his entire fortune around.
“That’s everything that was in my wallet,” Diluc says. “If you want the cards, I’m just going to cancel them immediately.”
“What about that envelope?”
So he does know. He must’ve been watching and waiting while Diluc closed up. “I’m not giving you that. It’s for my employees.”
The thief barks a laugh. “Yeah, right. Hand it over or I put a bullet through your lungs.”
“Do you really have a gun?”
Click . The familiar sound of a safety being turned off. Well, that answers that question.
“Look, I already gave you more than enough,” Diluc says. “Use it for whatever you want. I draw the line at spending other people’s money.”
“Fuck off with that shit,” the thief sneers. “You’re still living off Daddy’s fortune. I’m not asking again. The money or your life.”
Money or your life… how cliche. Diluc sighs. He opens his coat, reaches inside, then ducks and sweeps his leg behind him, hitting the thief in the ankles and knocking him off his feet. The gun goes off. Glass shatters as the bullet goes through one of the bar’s upper windows. Diluc steps on the thief’s wrist before he can get another shot off.
Under the light of a street lamp, Diluc gets a proper look at his would-be killer: a middle-aged man wearing a black gaiter. He’s not very muscular. If he didn’t have the gun, he’d be no threat to Diluc at all. The thief squirms helplessly, spitting insults.
“Nice firearm,” Diluc says. “Did you acquire that legally?”
“Fuck off!”
Diluc bets the answer is no. If this man has any sort of criminal record–which it seems like he does, considering how calmly he went about this attempted mugging–then he would’ve failed the necessary background check. Diluc can forgive people being forced to use desperate measures; he can’t forgive putting innocent people in danger through black market arms dealing.
Diluc pulls a tissue from his pocket. He wrenches the gun free from the thief’s hand and puts the safety back on, keeping the tissue between his bare hand and the metal. “If you tell me where you got this, I won’t press charges.”
The thief says nothing. He stares balefully at Diluc, as though this is all his fault.
Diluc isn’t a good negotiator. Despite his best efforts, he struggles to tell people what they want to hear. Probably because he doesn’t like lying. He knows it’s necessary sometimes. He’ll do it when the need arises. But it feels like spitting up, like acid in his throat and mouth.
Apartment lights have come on in some of the surrounding buildings. A police siren wails in the distance. Neighbors must’ve heard the gunshot and called the cops to investigate.
Diluc takes his weight off the thief’s wrist. “Go,” he says.
The thief scrambles to his feet. “Give me the gun.”
“You can take the money and run,” Diluc says, holding out the bills again. “Or you can get arrested. Which is it?”
The thief looks between the money and the gun. If he makes a move for the weapon, Diluc will have to use force. He doesn’t want it to come to that. To his relief, the thief grabs the cash and bolts down the street. He disappears around the far corner just as a squad car pulls up behind Diluc. Red and blue lights wash over him and the surrounding buildings. There are shadows at the windows now. People are watching.
A beat cop clambers out of the driver’s seat. “Got a report of gunfire. What’s–”
Diluc realizes he forgot to hide the gun. Plus, the officer can clearly see the bullet hole in the window above. Good luck trying to wave the cop away.
The officer puts his hands on his hips with a heavy sigh. “Mr. Ragnvindr, I’m going to have to ask you to come down to the precinct.”
Diluc hates the police station. Nothing but bad memories await him here. The cold fluorescents wash out everyone’s complexion, turning them into ghosts. He answers the cop’s questions as curtly as possible. He got a brief second wind from the adrenaline of nearly being shot, but it’s gone now, and he’s dying to leave.
Eventually, the cop–clearly frustrated–lets him go. Diluc won’t press charges and only offered the bare minimum needed to track this guy down. At least Diluc didn’t need to lie when he said he hadn’t seen the thief’s face.
“I can easily cover window repairs,” Diluc says as he stands up. “And I don’t need that money back.” He does not say, Focus on the unregistered firearm. If the police can’t come to that conclusion themselves, then there truly is no hope left for them. He turns to leave.
“Well, look what the cat dragged in.”
Diluc’s stomach drops. He hoped against hope that he wasn’t on duty tonight. It’s never a good time to be faced with one of the biggest regrets of his life, but it’s especially not good now.
“Did something happen?” Kaeya asks conversationally, as if he isn’t also resenting Diluc’s intrusion to what is now his domain. He holds a disposable cup of coffee, his shirt sleeves rolled up and his tie missing. He’s probably going to be working until dawn.
“You can ask the officer here,” Diluc says, pointing at the beat cop who brought him in.
Kaeya glances in his direction. He clicks his tongue. “I see. Well, as long as no one's died I guess I can wait to hear the details. No one has, right?”
Diluc shakes his head. If someone died, Kaeya’s cavalier attitude would switch to what would seem like genuine seriousness as if pressing a button. He’s good at that. Morphing to fit what people expect to hear and see. Diluc used to admire that ability. Until he realized that Kaeya used it on him as well.
“It’s your business now,” Diluc says, turning around. “Good night.”
“Good night,” Kaeya echoes. “Get home safe. The city can be dangerous at night.”
Diluc is aware he’s being mocked. He won’t rise to it. He exits the station in silence.
They made themselves a hideout in the woods near the winery. It was crafted from whatever supplies they had lying around–empty crates, barrels, branches with their leaves still attached. They collected a stockpile of pinecones “hand grenades” and filled their water guns from the river. Kaeya pulled some fabric from the rag basket in the laundry to make a flag. He designed and painted it.Their crest, he said, should be a bird. (They couldn’t agree on which bird, so it ended up looking only vaguely bird-shaped.)
They defended the fort from curious foxes and squirrels, and–having secured their hideout–settled in for an afternoon of snacking and reading, swapping books whenever one of them finished. They intended to camp out that night, so they’d brought their sleeping bags and an electric lantern. But Diluc started having second thoughts when the sun began to set. Even though they were only a short walk from the house, it felt as if they were miles away. It could get unnervingly quiet around the winery, meaning that every little noise was clearly audible.
Diluc didn’t want Kaeya to think he was chickening out, though, so he didn’t say anything. Kaeya enjoyed teasing him. Even then, Diluc could tell the difference between Kaeya’s warm jabs and the crueler kind his classmates traded in, but if there was one person in the world he didn’t want knowing he was a coward, it was Kaeya.
The night grew dark. Diluc lay in his sleeping bag, staring up at the tarp they’d used for their roof. Foxes barked in the woods. He’d never noticed how much they sounded like screams before. Kaeya slept soundly just a few inches away. Diluc envied him. Kaeya wasn’t scared of anything.
Minutes of tossing and turning became an hour. Eventually, Diluc sat up with a noisy sigh. It was enough to stir Kaeya.
“Whassa matter?” he slurred.
“Can’t sleep,” Diluc said, hugging himself. “The ground’s hard, and it’s cold.”
Kaeya looked at him for a moment. “D’you wanna go back?”
Diluc shook his head. He didn’t want to admit defeat. Somewhere outside their fort, there was a low hoot. Diluc tensed involuntarily. It was stupid; he knew it was just an owl. He hurriedly lay back down.
“I’m fine,” he said. “I’ll tough it out.”
“Are you scared?”
“N-no.” The lie stumbled on its way out of his mouth.
“We can go back if you want. I don’t mind.”
It was somehow worse than being mocked. Diluc slid into the sleeping bag until he was completely swallowed by it. He was nearly thirteen years old and scared of the dark. Humiliating. Kaeya, meanwhile, had never even needed a nightlight.
He heard shuffling. Diluc peered out of the sleeping bag to see Kaeya wriggling closer to him.
“Don’t,” Diluc said, thinking Kaeya was about to make things worse by telling him ghost stories.
“Don’t what?” Kaeya said. “I was just gonna say that we can share if it’ll make you feel better.”
Diluc hesitated. They used to fall asleep in each other’s beds all the time when they were younger. But they were getting too old for it now. That’s what one of the maids had said the last time she’d found them tangled up on Kaeya’s bed.
Don’t you think you’re a bit old for this, boys?
But there were no disapproving maids out here. Diluc nodded. He unzipped his sleeping bag, and Kaeya slipped out of his. Technically, the sleeping bags were only meant to fit one person, but they were still fairly scrawny and short. Kaeya zipped them back in.
“This way, if a bear gets in,” he said, “it’ll eat me first.”
“There aren’t any bears around here.”
“There are. I saw one.”
“No, you didn’t,” Diluc said.
“Did too.”
“Yeah? What’d it look like?”
There was a pause while the wheels in Kaeya’s head turned. “It was seven feet tall and white.”
“No way. If there were any bears in Mondstadt, they wouldn’t be white. Bears are only white where there’s snow.”
“It came from Dragonspine.”
“You’re such a liar. No, it didn’t.”
“It rode down here on an ice floe.”
Diluc yawned. He couldn’t come up with a more intelligent comeback than repeating, “Liar.”
Kaeya put an arm around him. “Just go to sleep. Nothing’s gonna get us.”
Thoughts of bears drifted from Diluc’s mind. He closed his eyes, irritated that he did–in fact–feel better with Kaeya right next to him. He allowed an arm to creep around Kaeya’s middle. The forest noises faded, replaced by the sound of Kaeya’s breathing and the steady thump of his heartbeat.
Diluc wakes up in his small room at the winery. A ray of sunlight cuts across his quilt. It’s well into mid-morning. The household staff are awake, the winery employees have started work… Diluc turns back the covers and goes to the window. Last night’s mist still hangs over the rows of grapevines, but he can already see it rising, evaporating under the strong sunlight.
Several years ago, Diluc sold his father’s townhouse in the city and chose to live full-time at the winery. He prefers the tranquility of the manor. He actually spent more of his childhood here than at their “official” residence. His childhood memories are slightly tainted by everything that followed, but those were better days. Carefree. Innocent.
He rests his forehead against the windowpane. It’s cold.
There’s breakfast downstairs. Diluc takes his bagel and a travel mug of coffee outside. He has to go back to the city to deposit the tips into the company account. Dawn Winery’s accountant often insists that Diluc shouldn’t bother with little tasks like that, but what else is he supposed to do? He actually doesn’t have much of a hand in running the business, outside of being present at meetings and approving major decisions. So, he bartends at the Angel’s Share and handles depositing cash tips in order to feel useful.
His father, Crepus Ragnvindr, would be gravely disappointed if he could see Diluc now. He tries not to think about it, but Crepus’ ghost seems to hover just behind his shoulder. Diluc can picture him in the backseat of his car, staring at Diluc through the rearview mirror.
I have nothing to be ashamed of, Diluc tells himself as he starts the engine. Autumn is in full swing. There’s frost on the windshield. He turns up the heat, drumming impatiently on the steering wheel while he waits for the ferns to melt. There’s a faint pressure in his skull from not getting enough sleep, but that’s typical. He never gets the required uninterrupted number of hours.
The drive to Mondstadt is smooth. No traffic, no accidents. Diluc listens to the news over the radio.
“...marks the third disappearance this month. Acting Chief of Police Jean Gunnhildr, in a statement to the press, says that the authorities are currently investigating and request citizens be on the lookout for any of the missing individuals. If you’d like to report a tip, you can visit the police department’s website at MondstadtPolice.fav or call the special tip line at…”
Diluc changes to a music station. The mention of Jean nags at him. His father’s ghost says, You should’ve married that girl.
Diluc’s mouth twists into a grimace. He and Jean hadn’t worked as a couple. They tried. Everyone said they made sense, and they’d started to believe it, despite the strong sense that something was off. It’s a good thing they figured it out before they did something stupid. Technically, they’re still friends, although Diluc finds it difficult to talk to her. Not because they used to date, but because she’s still on the force. What is he supposed to talk to her about if work is off the table?
This missing persons case is a travesty as well. Three people in one month. Statistically, people go missing everyday. Sometimes they come back the next morning, embarrassed and apologetic. Other times, a body gets fished out of the lake. But it’s rare for people to vanish off the face of Teyvat like this. Diluc chalks it up to incompetence. The police are too late; they’re too lazy; they’re missing something blindingly obvious. People don’t just disappear .
He shakes his head. It’s not his problem. There’s nothing he can do about that anymore. He chose to resign.
Depositing the tips doesn’t take long. As Diluc leaves the bank, he considers lingering in the city for a bit longer. It’s a substantial drive from the winery to Mondstadt, so he might as well make it worth his while. He also isn’t usually in the city during the day. It’s a gorgeous day, too–sunny and temperate, the perfect weather to enjoy a drink on Good Hunter’s patio.
He moves the car to the street. (The bank’s tiny parking lot is heavily regulated; overstay your welcome and you’re asking to be towed.) From there, it’s a short walk to the restaurant. Diluc orders a black coffee and settles at one of the tables with a print newspaper. It might be old fashioned, but he hates staring at screens.
MISSING PERSON CASE CONTINUES, POLICE INVESTIGATE POSSIBLE TREND
Sept. 25 – The past three weeks have seen an alarming frequency in reports of missing people from the Mondstadt municipal area, and police are now investigating possible connections between these cases.
The first, Norman Dreyer (27), was reported about twenty-four hours after failing to return home from work the previous evening. The second, Donna Schuster (28), came a few days later. Most recently, a third person has been declared officially missing–a Mr. Payne Feldt (43). All three lived and worked in the city of Mondstadt, but otherwise share very few similarities. Early investigations have failed to produce evidence of foul play, and friends and loved ones claim to have been blindsided by their sudden disappearances.
“We could be seeing a trend,” says Acting Police Chief Jean Gunnhildr. “Three people going missing so close together is cause for concern. So far, however, there haven’t been any signs of violence. If there is a connection between the disappearances, we hope to find it soon and return them safely home.”
Acting Chief Gunnhildr also reminds citizens to remain calm and vigilant. “Signs point to these people leaving of their own volition. We will update the public in the event that this is not the case.”
Citizens are advised to maintain close contact with friends and relatives, and to report any suspicious activity to the police. Descriptions and photos of Dreyer, Schuster, and Feldt are reprinted below . Please report any tips to MondstadtPolice.fav or call (555)-432-100.
Diluc pauses mid-sip. Payne Feldt… he knows the man. He’s a regular at the Angel’s Share, an affable drunk that Diluc and Charles have had to cut off multiple times. He’s missing? Diluc tries to remember the last time he saw Payne. A chill runs down his spine as he realizes Payne wasn’t there last night. Diluc didn’t think anything of it at the time.
What was their last conversation like? Payne is rarely coherent when he’s in his cups. Diluc can’t remember. Frustrated, he folds up the newspaper. He shouldn’t have read that. Now he can’t relax. He drains his coffee and leaves. He’ll walk off this anxious energy and head back to the winery. There’s a lot to do during the harvest season. Work will keep his mind off the case.
Luckily, Diluc has enough wherewithal to leap out of the way of a random man charging down the sidewalk. Diluc’s first thought is that joggers are getting ruder, until he has to jump out of the way again for a young woman, also sprinting at top speed. He gets only a glimpse of the woman’s face, but there’s murder in her eyes.
As she passes, she bellows, “Give me back my bag, asshole!”
Diluc is following her before he makes the conscious decision to get involved. He veers off the sidewalk and into the bike lane, circumventing the pedestrians being forced to part for the purse snatcher and his unfortunate victim. The thief dodges and weaves, but he can’t hide. His brightly colored jacket makes him easy to spot. Diluc overtakes him. He leaves the bike lane–narrowly avoiding a girl on a scooter–to block the thief’s path.
But before he can cut the thief off, the other pursuant makes a flying tackle. Both of them crash to the ground, followed by gasps and shrieks. Suddenly, everyone is shouting. A few people have their phones out, recording the chaos. Diluc fights through the gathering crowd as fast as he can.
The young woman is sitting on the thief’s back and twisting his arm while he cries out, “Sorry, I’m sorry! Please don’t call the cops!”
The bag lies a few feet away. It’s unopened. No one seems to have noticed it; their attention is fixed on the woman and the thief. Diluc picks it up and dusts it off. Then, he taps the woman on the shoulder.
Her head whips around. Diluc is met with a killer glare, only for her gaze to soften when he holds out her bag.
“Thank you!” she says. She looks back at the thief. “Um–”
“Let him go,” Diluc says. “Someone has probably already called the authorities.”
The woman hesitates, then eases off. The thief scrambles to his feet, rubbing his shoulder. He casts a terrified glance at the woman before taking off. The assembled onlookers jeer at him as he leaves. As soon as he’s gone from view, they begin to disperse. Nothing to see here anymore.
Now that she’s standing in front of him, Diluc can get a better look at the woman. She’s petite, with a blond bob and amber eyes. If Diluc had to guess her age, he’d say she’s in her early to mid-twenties. She rifles quickly through her bag and seems to find everything in order.
“Bastard,” she mutters to herself.
“Are you okay?” Diluc asks. He gestures at her bare knees, which are scraped red and raw from where she collided with the pavement.
The woman glances down. “Uh…”
“There’s a drugstore across the street. I can get you some disinfectant and bandages.”
“That’s really nice of you, but I’m fine.” She smiles. It would be a pretty smile if it weren’t so tense. “Thanks for picking up my bag. I got kind of lost in the moment.”
“Alright then,” Diluc says.
The woman starts to walk away, but stops in her tracks with a hiss of pain. The scrapes on her knees are bleeding. Diluc sighs. He doesn’t want to be pushy, but it feels wrong to let her limp away.
“Why don’t you sit down?” he suggests. “I’ll be back in a minute.”
The woman heaves a sigh of her own and plops onto the edge of a nearby planting bed. “Go ahead.”
Diluc crosses the street. He buys some spray disinfectant, ointment for the pain, and a box of large bandages. When he returns, the woman hasn’t moved. She’s dabbing her wounds clean with a tissue.
“I assume you can handle this part by yourself,” Diluc says, handing her the disinfectant.
“Yeah, but I don’t mind if you stick around.” The woman sprays each bloody knee, winces, then starts on the ointment. “My name’s Lumine, by the way. What’s yours?”
“Diluc.”
“Nice to meet you. That makes two people I know here.”
Curious, Diluc asks, “Are you new to Mondstadt?”
“Yep,” Lumine says. She opens the bandages. “Just got here this morning. Do you happen to know how to get to the university campus from here?”
“Yes, it’s just a few blocks in that direction.” Diluc points. “You really can’t miss it, but I can walk you over if you want.”
Lumine shakes her head. “I can take care of myself.”
Diluc doesn’t doubt it. She had that thief whimpering.
Lumine finishes sticking on her bandages. They make it look like she’s wearing knee pads. She gets up and takes her phone out of her pocket. “One more thing,” she says. “It’s probably a longshot, but…”
Diluc furrows his brow. A sudden worry that she’s about to ask him for his number strikes, in which case he’ll have to politely but firmly shut her down. But when she turns her phone toward him, he’s greeted instead by a photo of a young man who bears an obvious familial resemblance to Lumine. His hair is a deeper, more golden blond than hers, and is also much longer. His eye color is the same, though.
“Have you seen him?” Lumine asks. “He’s my brother. His name is Aether.”
Diluc looks from the photo to Lumine’s hesitantly hopeful expression. He doesn’t recall hearing that name or seeing Aether’s face. “I’m sorry,” he says.
Lumine’s face falls. “I figured. Thought I might as well ask. Thanks anyway.”
“Is he…?” Diluc struggles to phrase the question with appropriate sensitivity.
Lumine says, “A few months ago, he told me that he was going to stay in Mondstadt over the summer instead of visiting me in Liyue. A week ago,” she pauses for a deep breath, “his roommate emailed me to ask when he was coming back to school.”