There's something odd about this bard who plays in his tavern every week. Diluc knows everyone who goes in and everyone who goes out, whether he's there or not. He knows every bard that plays, and he knows this one frequents most off. He calls himself Venti, and he weaves tales about Barbatos, both common and uncommon.
Some, entirely blasphemous.
Venti, for the most part, seems entirely harmless. The other patrons think he's fun. They'll buy him drinks, laugh along with his jokes, and join him in conversation when he's finished performing. But something about him makes Diluc so wary.
He's never had a full conversation with Venti. The bard has tried, most definitely, but talking to him only brings more discomfort. It's something akin to fear that creeps up his spine. Diluc isn't afraid of Venti, per se, but he fears the unknown. The things he can't predict. Venti feels like a ticking time bomb, but Diluc doesn't know what will happen when the time runs out.
"Master Diluc~" Venti calls to him, voice melodic as he sits on the bar stool. Diluc looks up at him and acknowledges him with a hum. "You always seem so tense. Perhaps you should have a drink too? Loosen up!" As he speaks, he swirls the wine in his glass.
Diluc merely shakes his head, and doesn't bother to give a better response. He doesn't miss the way Venti's eyes glint.
He doesn't like being ignored, does he?
"Why not? Isn't it a little strange for the owner to never touch a glass of wine? How can you assure you're selling a quality product."
"I have people test it for me." Diluc replies before stepping away to serve another customer. He keeps himself occupied until Venti waves, grabbing his attention again.
He holds up his now empty glass. "Another refill?"
"Are you paying?"
Venti gives him a mischievous smile. "Aw, please Master Diluc? One on the house, for your favorite bard?"
"No."
His smile falls, and Diluc walks away. He tells Charles to cut Venti off for the night, and disappears into the back.
The uncomfortable feeling doesn't go away, not even when Diluc leaves. Not when he returns home, and it keeps him awake in his bed. Rumors of ghosts haunting the winery are rampant, but no such stories have ever made Diluc fear what he might see in the dark. And yet... the nagging feeling that something was watching him outside his window kept him from looking.
He didn't brave it until daybreak.
There was a strange aura surrounding Venti that no one but Diluc seemed to notice. It wasn't always there, but when it was, he could easily recognize it.
Corruption was a problem that ran rampant in the world. Diluc could see it in the Knights of Favonius, and how they chose to operate. It was in the Fatui, who sought to spread their influence all over Teyvat. In the treasure hoarders, who cared more for riches than human life. But these were all people who, at some point in their life, chose to join these groups. They chose to live a corrupt life.
It was different from the corruption Diluc saw in Stormterror. But people feared the dragon, called him a monster, wanted him dead. But Stormterror's corruption was an infliction, overtaking his entire body.
There was a visible aura around him. The very same that Diluc sometimes saw around Venti.
But their behavior was different. Stormterror's instincts would always be more animalistic. It was clear he wasn't making the choice to be destructive. In some way, he was being controlled.
Venti, however, often seemed to be in control of his own actions... but perhaps not his mind? Diluc couldn't tell if he was acting out because he wanted to, or if the corruption in his body was making him this way.
It was that unknown that Diluc feared. It was the reason he avoided being alone with Venti.
He was sure Venti knew that Diluc saw more than the others. That had to be the reason he was so persistent about getting him alone and vulnerable, right? Or... it was a cry for help.
It was hard to keep ignoring him when a part of Diluc wanted to help him. There was no way he could without talking to Venti... but he had to wait for the right time.
So he waited, and waited.
"Master Diluc?"
Like any other night, Diluc was working behind the bar, cleaning glasses between serving drinks. The atmosphere was comfortable tonight, leaving him with no worries of trouble being started, and it caught him off guard to hear his name called so softly.
By Venti, no less. The bard didn't have his usual air of mischief about him tonight. He just gave Diluc a sheepish smile as he held out his wine glass. "A refill?"
Diluc eyes Venti, noting the purple aura faintly emanating off of him.
"Can you pay?"
"Well...." Venti reached into his shorts, pulling out a couple coins and placing them on the counter. He carefully counted the amount and frowned. "Uh. Is this enough?"
Diluc watched quietly, not even needing to count to know that no it wasn't enough. But... "It's fine. Keep your mora."
It wasn't hard to see that Venti was having an off night. Perhaps this would be the opportunity Diluc needed to find out the truth.... He wouldn't push Venti away tonight. Instead, he refilled the glass free of charge. "This is your last free refill, so don't come asking for another."
Venti smiled, relief visible in his features. It made Diluc wonder... is Venti just an alcoholic, or does alcohol somehow relieve him of his pain?
Just as Venti was about to get up and rejoin his table, Diluc stopped him. "Wait." Venti gave him a confused, though curious, look. "... Stay late tonight. I want to talk."
The bard looked surprised, but nodded. "Okay." And just like that, his mischievous smile returned, even if it was clearly more forced than usual. "Anything for you, Master Diluc."
As the night passed and customers left one by one, Diluc dismissed Charles and prepared for the bar to close. He waited until every patron was gone except one to come out from behind the bar. Venti stayed put, as promised, sitting at a table with an empty wine glass in front of him.
Diluc took the seat across from him, resting his elbows on the table. "Venti, right?"
"How sweet of you to remember my name." His tone was playful, but there was still clearly a strain in his voice. Venti seemed... tired. "What did you want to talk about?"
"You. And your... strange behavior."
"Oh? What's so strange about it?"
Diluc shook his head, not in the mood to play any games. To be fair, he was almost always straight and to the point. "Most nights you look like you're up to something. Tonight, you seem like you're in pain. The only reason I'm talking to you right now... is because I don't think you have it in you to cause trouble at the moment."
His feeling was confirmed by the way Venti visibly winced. Quiet fell between them for just a moment, until Venti quietly replied, "... I knew you could tell."
Diluc raised an eyebrow at that, waiting for Venti to continue.
"I knew you could tell." He said again. "That's why it was always your attention I wanted. You can sense it, right? Can you see it?"
"It's corruption, isn't it?"
Venti nodded. "It's... a curse. Cursed blood flows through my veins."
Cursed blood... That would explain the aura. "Can it be cleansed?"
"I don't know." Venti sighed, looking at his hands as if he could see the curse inside himself. "I've tried to find a way. It's been years... and I can't control myself long enough to try and find out. I can't do it on my own."
The bard looked up at Diluc, eyes pleading to him. "Can you help me, Master Diluc?"
