KYOTEN CRAP 3
OMG HAHAHAH WARNING GENDERBEND!
thanks to all those who've reviewed and read and stuff! i super appreciate it :))) hope that ya'll like it ! :) go KYOUTEN!
"I hear that you've found what you're looking for."
Victor smiles as his brother pours some tea in the precious china.
"Well, news does have wings after all," he replies as he picks up his cup to take a sip of the chamomile infusion.
It was Vladimir's turn to grin as he pops a blueberry tart in his mouth. Their beams made them look so alike, that one could mistake them for twins.
"But with that aside," the older one's face turns serious, "are you really sure about what you're planning?"
"Yes."
Vladimir stops tasting the different snacks on the table to look at him eye to eye. With a sigh, he leans back in his chair, the look on his face asking his brother for an explanation.
"I know that I accepted the mission from my superior. But I have my own agenda and reasons."
"Why?"
The younger one knew what he wanted, but somehow the words to say it wouldn't form. His mind wanders off, remembering the day his life changed forever.
A crash. And he falls.
"Vladimir! Vladimir!"
He jerks his brother in a panic, searching the body for signs of injury. Eyelids are shut, his breathing is faint, and the small one is hoping against hope that maybe his brother was just sleeping.
"I— I can't…!"
He hears tiny whispers mixed with groans of pain.
"Brother!"
Victor's haunted eyes could see vividly the pain on the pale face. His eyebrows were knit, body convulsing from the stress and pain going through him.
"Victor—I can't…I can't feel my legs!"
His expression worsens in horror upon comprehension by his young mind. He didn't want to believe it was true.
"Hold on Vladimir! I—I'll go get help!"
He shouts right before he runs as fast as his legs could carry him, stumbling on the dirt road he and his brother always took when they went to the clearing where they liked to play soccer. Now the clearing is where his brother lay helpless.
He was almost out of breath, muscles strained and nearly torn, face discolored from the absence of oxygen and body drenched in sweat when he reached the house of the town's nurse.
"Please…help us! My brother, he's over there by the riverbank, and he can't move!"
Before he knows it, a group of people march in the direction his trembling finger was pointed at, and he, left at the hands of another maid, succumbed to the dizziness that accompanied the adrenaline rush.
He doesn't recall anything after the blackout except for the words of the medic.
"I'm sorry, but you cannot play soccer with your brother again."
The words were like a bullet in the heart.
"Can't… play … soccer?"
From that day on, he grew up hating himself for the ill-fortune of his cheerful companion. He blamed himself for being so weak to the point that someone else had to sacrifice their happiness and future just for him. Until Fate gave him a second chance.
"Henchman?"
"Yes. You carry out my orders, and if you remain faithful to me, I will give you what your heart desires."
"What is it that my heart desires?"
Lips curl into a smirk.
"To cure your brother."
He didn't know what to do, but he accepted before he could reason out. He'd sell his soul to the devil if it meant seeing Vladimir kick the ball again.
Silence followed by a scream.
As he lies on the cold flooring he can't stop the tears streaming down his face, but he knows that his brother's happiness was all that mattered. It was cold, so cold, the blood coursing slowly through his veins, and he could feel the world slipping away. Even the warmth of the liquid trickling down the side of his neck was slowly ceasing to be there at all, clouding his vision with splotches of red. The wounds would be there forever, the sensation of canines sinking in deeper than outside flesh overpowering the numbness of his body paralyzed by fear.
He became what he feared most since his mother's bedtime stories from childhood.
He became a monster.
"Why?"
He snaps out of his gloomy reverie and meets a shade of burnt hazel. An answer is expected from a conversation that has been played one too many times, but why can't he give a response?
He opens his mouth to speak, but is cut off.
"Is it because of me?"
He tries again, but Vladimir isn't finished.
"Is it because you still think that after all these years it's your fault that I'm like this? Do you have to treat me like a baby to the point that you do evil things? Answer me, Victor!"
"I know that what I'm doing is wrong!"
Victor answers finally, the tension between them getting worse.
"But it doesn't mean that I don't plan to solve it. I won't hand him over. I will use him myself just as Zabelle wanted to."
At this, Vladimir falls quiet. He didn't expect his brother to go to such lengths for his sake.
"I don't like this idea. I never did. I never asked you to cure me. I may not have anything to say, but silence doesn't always mean yes."
His fingers grip harder on the armrests, head turned in shame.
"I also know that I cannot stop you."
It's Victor's turn to have nothing to say. He was surprised at his brother's words.
"It is your choice, and it is up to you to deal with the consequences. I suppose you already know the challenges that lie ahead, don't you?"
"Yes."
"And I am sure that you haven't forgotten about Sol, have you?"
The henchman stiffens, unpleasant memories of the person mentioned flooding his mind. Back in the days, Sol was also working for the Holy Empress, but just like himself, he was a rebel. When the time came for him to strike, he implored the help of the vampire who immediately refused out of loyalty to the contract he had with the sorceress. This made the other angry, so when Victor was tasked to capture the fugitive, Sol cleverly used Vladimir as a hostage. He had no choice but to let him go. Of course his brother's life was saved, but he was met with a similar consequence from his superior: fail in any mission from that day on, and they will kill his brother.
That's why when he found out that the Thousand Year Moonlight Ritual was still possible and that he was ordered to kidnap the Sacrifice for that reason, he knew that it was his opportunity to heal his brother while also being able to free those under Zabelle's reign. It was a win-win situation for everyone—one soul's freedom was nothing compared to the freedom of many.
"But remember this, Victor: quis custodiet, ipsos custodes. Who watches the watchers themselves? In other words, who has the power to control power? Even if you have good intentions, there is a possibility that you will be consumed in it. You might become a monster! Did you ever think about that? Did you!? Did you ever think of what it might feel like for me if that ever happened, what it might feel like to wake up everyday with the regret of knowing what your loved one was doing yet you did nothing at all!? Tell me, Victor, do you still think you're righteous?"
"Are you contradicting your earlier words, brother? You know that you can't stop me, so the least that you can do is have a little faith in me!"
Vladimir sighed in defeat, hiding his face in his hands. He looked once more at the face of his brother and saw not the young, curious, and innocent child, but a defiant and determined warrior.
"I still think that you're wrong, but you are my brother, and I will support you no matter what."
Victor is stunned. Did he just say that?
"…Okay."
"Tell me when you plan to move. I shall gather some men to be on the lookout and to assist you in your journey to the Four Sacred Runes. Once you have a time frame set, we shall arrange a rendezvous here."
"Understood."
Victor stands up to leave, and Vladimir does the same.
"Thank you, dearest brother, for placing your faith in me. I assure you that I will do what is right."
"Keep in touch."
They share a warm embrace. And the host sees him off.
As the vampire returns to his residence, a shadow slips into the dense forest.
"I must return to the Alpha," it whispered quietly.