One evening meeting of the Daredevil and the Madman (Crepus and Dottore when there were no signs of trouble yet)
Through wine to forget the pain.
If you will be different,
The northern winds this evening especially powerfully push the foliage of trees and thick grass, and wanting to demolish the vineyards, and then hit the strings of an old guitar harder than its owner has time to finish his chord to a quiet chorus, drowned out by the hum. There has been no winter in Mondstadt for hundreds of years, and therefore such a sign foreshadows the appearance of a long-awaited guest, whose blue crown is already looming on the horizon of the fields.
– How are you, Mr. Harbinger?
– I adjusted the elemental resonator. Reduced the pressure... Its structure has been greatly shaken by frequent use, – the scientist emphasizes with a reproach in his voice, – But your hand will stop burning.
In response, he hears only the carefree laugh of the winemaker. Of course, he is ashamed of wasting someone else's time and how negligent he is in relation to his health: The out-of-control Eye of Corruption is clearly not a reason for fun. But that's always how he is: open, irresponsible and completely unsuitable for the description of the genius of Crepus Ragnvindr.
– And in the language of ordinary mortals? – the man decided to laugh it off, in fact, as usual, not understanding the complex scientific language of his business partner.
– ...I fixed this "thing" for you. But if you continue in the same spirit, according to my forecasts, only ashes will remain from you.
Since these two met, a lot of time has passed and Il Dottore has become a frequent guest in these parts, albeit secretly from the rest of the population for an obvious number of reasons. Despite the rare cooperation between the two coldly opposed regions, the distillery maintained complete confidentiality about the essence of the meetings taking place here.
– Well, well, actually... I wasn't asking about him, – Ragnvindr smiled sadly, tuning the guitar again, which he so rarely took out and which had become almost as much a relic of the past as himself.
– So you want to hear about my working days? – in the question of the Doctor, who sat down under the shade of trees nearby, there is an obvious grin and disbelief, because he knows perfectly well from his experience that no one will listen to such a thing. No one except someone who doesn't know anything about it... And at the same time, he listens anyway, – I'm definitely not going to simplify a five–hour lecture on mutations, genetics and corpses for you...
– In that case, are your colleagues still amused by the ideas of "destroying the Mondstadt wine industry"?
– Actually, someone told me that he was not interested in such a thing at all and "By the Holy Winds, you are not here for profit!"...
– Fine! Fine, I repent... – the parody in the voice of Dottore, who finally deigned to take off his mask, allowing such a thing in a very limited circle of people, makes the winemaker laugh a lot and he raises his hands as a sign of his comic defeat. Not for long, unfortunately, because the root of his question sits much deeper, which is usually called "guilt" – I just wanted to find out thereby if you have problems because of... All of this.
– As if I would allow this to be found out – bullying takes a back seat for a while, because they can't all be indifferent to what is. Now nothing prevents reading his emotions and Harbinger sounds more quietly, carefully choosing words and not wanting to give out something more, - But even if something unexpected happened, I would still come...
Slowly fingering the strings for a simple melody, Crepus' gaze rushes to the sky, which changes its crimson clothes to a dark, impenetrable night. Is there anyone else left in this world who would like to be next to such a pathetic and insignificant person who does not represent something at least a little more, like, for example, his interlocutor. Whose gaze, as the man manages to catch a glimpse, was so attentively and enthusiastically directed at the guitar.
– Do you like it?.. – Ragnvindr does not refrain from asking the question with special trepidation, which brings the scientist to his senses and he immediately assumes his usual reasonable look, turning away a little.
– From a rational point of view, listening to musical instruments does not represent any practical value and performs only a secondary function in the education of a person for his physical and spiritual perfection, – in the end, unable to withstand the gentle gaze and kind smile, with a heavy exhalation, the Doctor softens, frowning with displeasure that he I have to admit something to myself, – I... don't know what's I found in that. And this feels... Strange. Every time.
– You didn't say it was terrible, and that's a lot for me! – Ragnvindr is genuinely elated, but the next question already takes him out of the rut in response.
– What about your canvas?
– You mean that raw sketch?.. – he puts the guitar aside, – Are you really so interested in my daub, or are you just so stubbornly unwilling to share your thoughts about work?
– Don't say that, Master Crepus... – even such an impenetrable egoist like Dottore is noticeably offended by such a question, because he does not give everyone his attention, which does not go into the zone of his studies – No matter how much you lament and no matter how blind the townspeople are, there is something in your horrifying works... Worthwhile.
– I ... - the scientist does not dare to share something painful, even if the temptation to succumb is too strong, but still, quieting every desire for weakness, he restrains himself, – Once again, I don't want to talk about it. Even to think.
A dead silence hung in the air, broken only by the twinkling stars appearing in the sky, which dispel the long darkness. Both of them sit in silence for duty, until finally Ragnvindr makes a desperate attempt.
– Then you could... Stay, for a day or maybe two..!
– Crepus, don't... – Dottore immediately interrupts his active fuse, wearily covering his face with his hand. This is not the first such conversation, or rather, its beginning, which should be stopped and nipped in the bud. He knows what he's getting at. They know what it's fraught with. And no one will get better from it.
– I can see in your eyes how tired you are.
— No. Just... no. Neither the city nor the organization... – There was a familiar anger and bitterness in his voice that he had to remind this old idiot again and again about this. But, Heaven sees with the demons of the Abyss, how much he would like one day to destroy everything he worked on – Let's not talk about it, and that's it. Most of all, your children...
They fall silent again. It is a sad fate to be brought together by accident and being separated over and over again for a whole bunch of reasons, the main one of which is themselves. Their established ways of life are incompatible in the current conditions and, with all the immense desire, even by the Gods, by which they were abandoned, they cannot be changed until they both step over themselves... For the sake of a life that is unknown and terrible to them. One does not accept, the other will not be able to fit in. To go further means to jeopardize everything. Someone has ideals. Someone's family.
– Then maybe at least for the night? – accepting the fate that has been given to them, Ragnvindr smiles at his companion again. He knows they won't have a happy ending. But this means that they should enjoy the little that fate has measured out for them.
– Crepus... – Dottore is not ready to put up with fate, having been at war with it for all the years that he can remember, but yielding to it now, for the sake of reason and aspirations, for which he gave so much of himself. He can't be as carefree, but they forcibly pull him by the hand and help him up, gently hugging his waist, – Well, what are you doing?
– Come on, we haven't danced in a hundred years! – despite the late hour, the winemaker is not at all concerned about fatigue.
– Really, you are barely half a century old, "a hundred years"!.. How are you going to do this in silence?
And in response, the Doctor hears the winemaker begin to hum something with laughter, as music for dancing under the moon, causing a response from a slightly protesting, nervously giggling partner who does not resist at all.
After all, where else in the whole world will he find such a Daredevil who has not met such a Madman in all these life.
P.S.: i'm very upset that this text was not accepted in the ask... And yeah, at the beginning is an excerpt of my cover on Crepttore, which I can also show latter! Hope someone enjoy it 🖤
