🎀 Wisteria 🎀

Valdemar was tired from the morning's incident. As promised, he visited Bifröst, but it didn't bring him much benefit, nor did it truly help Raphael. He spent the day and evening in a terrible drunken stupor, indifferent, impatient, angry, and cursing everyone who crossed his path, except for... Yves der Misel.
-- Yves... Yves... You... Tomorrow morning -- remind me. I'll... take a look. Oh, gods! And why does a headache always follow wine?... Ugh, how stuffy! I... hic... I'll move out of here... tomorrow...
He felt awful. The momentary euphoria from his release was replaced by indifference, then boredom, and now – apathy. His head ached from the wine, but he couldn't sleep – heavy, vague thoughts troubled him. Finally, he fell asleep – right in the hall, full of strange thoughts that turned into nightmares in the darkness of the night. Braheia, Astrea, Lucretia transformed in his mind into a giant, terrifying three-headed monster, ready to devour them, the small "Griffons" squad, lost in a foreign land, and Inar Anluki, whom he somehow imagined as a handsome young man in his early thirties, was the only, such a thin and fragile thread connecting them to the world... If it breaks – what then? And the thread breaks, and Valdemar is plunged into the sea abyss, and he swims, swims through a sea the color of the sun, and typhoons rise around him, threatening to engulf him, but he, swallowing the bad, salty water, resists and keeps swimming... Where to?... To the grave! To the grave of Crag Eshingir!
-- Kraaaag! -- he shouts, waking up. But... what other Crag? There isn't one here... And again, he plunges into the abyss of sleep, this time – without dreams.

Valdemar Carafa got up around noon on the twentieth and immediately summoned Yves der Misel.