That night, Vlad was restless in his bed. Partly that the bed he was sleeping on was less comfortable than his bed at the castle, partly because of the dreams he had. He dreamed of his father's stories, the ones in which Alistair played a part; and now he had a face to the legend. The bats too came in his visions, adding to the mystery of the man, and even in his dreams, he couldn't wait to see him again.
Not far from the cabin, Dracula, or Alistair, also tossed and turned in his sleep, more his dreams to blame than the bed. He'd gotten used to uncomfortable beds, even since before he became Dracula. But he'd never get used to dreaming about his son, his little Ingeras. The boy he'd had to watch from the shadows, the desire to touch his son more agitating than his thirst for blood had been in those three days. At times, Ingeras' face would morph into Vlad V's, and Dracula would jolt awake with the dread of not bring able to save his family in the dreams. He'd often go wander through the forest, even sometimes watch over his name sake through the window, watching him sleep like he used to watch Ingeras sleep.
The next morning, Vlad woke up excited. The tutors expected him to make a fuss over having to live in the cabin, but he didn't.
He quietly walked into the dining room and sat down for breakfast, which wasn't as lavish as at home, but he wasn't thinking about food at the moment.
"Can either of you teach me how to catch a horse?" He asked over his food.
"To catch a horse? Why the sudden urge?" The tutor was surprised.
"My last one threw me off in fear of a serpent. I shall have one that I know I can ride, as I shall have tamed it." Vlad announced boldly.
"It is quite a feat to tame a beast. You will get there, eventually. But that is not a priority for now. Would you like to start after breakfast?"
Vlad slumped, disappointed.
"Alright, fine. But you won't take all of daylight. I'll like to explore the woods more by myself."
"As the young Prince wishes." The tutors conceded.
After breakfast, his time was divided between the tutor and the war master. First was the tutor, who gave Vlad a lesson on local politics and demographics. The prince contained his yawns and was relieved when it was time for practice with the war master. The man was yet to give the young prince a sword yet, but still wrung the boy out on physical exercise and fight skills.
From his weary state by mid evening, the teachers prayed he had given up on his intended expedition. But the minute the sun set, the prince was full of life again as he collected some belongings and barely announced his intentions as he raced out the door.
Vlad had walked all the way to the circle of trees where he had seen Alistair the day before, but there was yet a sign of him.
Flutter! Vlad quickly pivoted towards the noise, but saw nothing but a ruffle of the leaves in the wind.
Shutter! Another noise, yet still nothing. Vlad reading his blade in his hand and closed his eyes, and the next time he heard motion, he threw his blade ahead of it. This time, hearing a squeal in response. The boy quickly opened his eyes, and to his amazement, saw a bat writhing to death as its wings were pinned to a tree. Even more impressively, the creature combusted and fell to the ground in a heap of ash.
"You are good at self learning, my prince." A human voice said and Vlad rolled his eyes as he turned to face Alistair.
"I have been here for-"
"A good prince is patient with his people. If you start demanding everything within the second, your people will grow weary. And tired of you."
"There isn't such thing as democracy in this world. A prince comes to power by blood, as was his father, and his father's father."
"But if you give the people a bad prince, they will revolt. And install a bloodline of their choice."
"A name as strong as Dracula isn't so easy to erase." Vlad boldly announced.
Alistair heartily chuckled at the boy's naivety.
"Is that so? Then prove yourself; catch a horse."
"Do you see any horses that I do not! There aren't any here!" Vlad was yet to whine when Alistair suddenly appeared behind him.
"Do you trust me?" The older man said as he grabbed the boy from his arms.
"My father did, so will I!"
Alistair jumped in the air and Vlad grew amazed as a colony of bats flocked him and he was in the air. It felt like less than five minutes had gone by when they were soon in a clear hillside field.
Alistair didn't need to tell Vlad where they were. The vast grassland, without a tree in sight, was the Pontic-Caspian Steppe.
As Vlad returned to Alistair to speak with him, the ground shook in an earthquake, halting his speech. The men stood aside as a stampede of wild horses raced up from over the hill, as a tribe of proto-indos chased them, lassos swinging in the air ahead of them.
"They will teach me?" Vlad asked as he pointed to the wild looking people.
"No. You will only learn from them, but you will teach yourself. After all, you are a mighty Dracul." Alistair handed the prince a rope and stepped away as Vlad threw him a smug smirk.
Vlad carefully positioned himself about the stampede and looked to the indos for inspiration. He followed their movements, stance for stance, whip for whip, call for call. The stampede was thinning, and when he finally caught a horse, it went lame.
Vlad squatted next to the horse, stroking its thick coat as it looked at him through its big wet eyes.
"The horse is lame." Alistair came up behind him. "You must put it out of its misery."
"I am not cruel. I have it not in me to kill it."
"Then you must learn."
"I won't! You can't make me!"
Alistair sat near the horse's head and put it on his lap.
"It isn't cruel to put it out of his misery. No physician can-heal his wounds." He stuttered as he tutored the prince, remembering the death of his wife, Mirena.
Alistair stroked the horse's mane, and closed his eyes as he snapped the horse's neck, ending his misery.
Vlad stood up and walked only a little distance before he threw up. Alistair came up to him and lead him sit down on a hill crest.
"You do not-" Alistair began but was interrupted.
"I understand that there is a need to be learned in war. But there are certain times when there is a need of war itself, or peace."
"That is a great thought," Alistair praised, and again they sat in silence.
"You don't want to be your great grandfather, the Dracula? Your namesake?"
"I have heard his stories. He sold himself to save his son and his people, but he was given to the Turks. I have no desire to be a monster without reason."
"A monster without reason. You are very learned, young prince."
"I truly appreciate you pointing that out. Not most do."
"And when you become Prince?"
"I shall be a kind and peaceful Prince. Unite Romania under a flag of peace, not a reign of terror as Lupei does. And if there need be, I will protect my people, through whatever means I must."
"And you shall find me an ally in your quest of peace."
"It's late. I should retire, or they will send hounds after me."
Alistair laughed and stood up.
"As you wish, my prince."
Dracula watched from the window as Vlad knelt by his wooden bed, making his night prayers. He sped away when the boy was deep in sleep, arriving at an abandoned garden. He sat amongst a bed of red roses, and picked the most thick bloomed one.
"You once said I keep little interest in flowers. Yet the only place I can sense your spirit is here," Vlad talked to the flower, stroking it.
"Mind you, my love. I have a keen appreciation for beauty," he smiled to himself, making wrinkles appear by his mouth.
"The red of this rose is put to shame by the reds of your lips. Or perhaps the red of your blood, that gives me new life. The softness of this flower," he cupped the rose in his hand, as if choking it.
"Doesn't compare to the softness of your skin. Which my teeth broke through." He ripped the petals off the stem and they turned black as they fell between his feet.
He picked up the black petal and held it up as if it were a mirror.
"The curse of long life, that I can't die soon enough to be with you, my Mirena." Vlad stuck the rooted stem of the rose into the ground, and parted the early dawn sky as he walked away,
"As one life is born from the last," the sun shone through the clouds and as the rays descended, the rose stem bloomed another rose, more beautiful than the last, "I will see you again, my love."