Not a Soul Worth Wilting For

2 . Divine Duty

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Corvus has been dancing with the moon long enough to know that when it speaks, it is never for a ' good ' reason. Corvus is not good; is Death a villain? Archons, they were beautiful though. Death is, if anything, enchanting. They sing sickly infants lullabies, showing to their friends wonder and peace before nothingness takes them.

Corvus always had the voice to soothe, to send one or another drifting into dreamland. Or perhaps it was the feeling of serenity brought with the dark angel's dance into one's home. What need is there to worry when all feels natural? After all, Death is the most natural of all the processes.

A song of slumber, eternal and cold, peaceful, right and natural.

Corvus though, in the end, when stripped of divine duty, is nothing but a killer, taking the life from their victims without remorse. What is remorse? One of those ideas Corvus forgot long ago.

Corvus is, objectively, bad. This is why they were given this duty, is it not? They aren't meant to feel; they never have, this is why they can take a person's beating heart and sing it to a final ba-bump within minutes. They do not feel bad, they do not feel at all.

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They do not feel. They do not feel. They are not alive. Surely, their cold heart did not beat just then? The bartender's eyes met Death's, and as Death's lifeless heart beat once, twice, the bartender's reached for eternal sleep through his chest.

Diluc did not realize he was holding his breath until he was gasping for air. Corvus shifted their gaze away, waiting for the name of the beautiful man. There was not one who didn't give Corvus their name, they need it to bring to one their rest. "Diluc- Diluc Ragnvindr-" he spoke quickly, breathlessly.

Corvus managed a smile, and for the second time that night, Diluc's lungs refused to obey him. They were ethereal. "Angel's Nectar, thank you," was Death's response. It took Diluc a moment to understand; and then he did, and then he didn't. Surely, such a strong beverage wouldn't really be their first of the night? Nevertheless, he prepared their drink without error. As he did so, the stranger settled comfortably on the stool Kaeya often claimed; Diluc did not complain.

They said not another word for the rest of the night. Even when the hopeless man asked their name, where they were from, when they arrived in town, they only smiled politely and sipped at their drink. By nearly sunrise, they had finished what Diluc considered to be an hour's worth of drink. They picked the mora needed from a pouch at their hip and dropped it in the now empty cup, flashing Diluc another one of those slight, breathtaking smiles with a glint in their eye, and then they left. They were gone, and Diluc thoroughly believed he'd just met a deity.

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