Prologue

Present, 20XX

"You don't even belong to our family!" someone yelled as the silence fall into the room.

There were some murmurs, but they soon disappeared as well. Nobody dared to move or to say something. The time felt as it stopped in its place and the pressure between the walls grew up with every second. They were waiting for someone to break this mood, but again, nobody dared to move a finger. Soon there was a small crack from a chair that was just moved from his initial position, followed by a calm, still neutral voice.
"I never asked to be a part of it."

He sounded bored, but his tone also hid some sadness behind it.

The eyes of the said voice glanced at the first person who spoke, then around the room, analyzing every soul from there. They, in return, were staring back at him, waiting for God knew what.

"I never asked to be born like this, I never asked to be like this, but most of all, I never asked to be named like this. ROMAnia wasn't my choice, but neither was yours Francis, so who is to be blamed?" The accent strictly dropped onto the first two syllables of the name mentioned, this being the reason why this argument began in its first place.

Normally it had to be a normal global meeting about the last problems around the world, but in less than two second everything changed. Now everyone's attention was on those two men that, as it seemed, were desperately in search for a battle, though Vladimir, or the country named some moments ago, didn't pay much attention. He was annoyed by this subject because it wasn't the first time when it started, but to his surprise, it was the first time when something hurt in his chest. He wanted to go back to the meeting's principal problems, but the way the Frenchman was glaring at him didn't give him any peace. Oh, how much he hated him. There were plenty of time when Francis attacked Vlad because of his origins. Unlike his other "brothers", he was different. While all of them have a Latin origin, the others were bounded by what they call 'Germanic influence', Vlad having a Slavic one. Maybe that's why he always felt like he had nothing in common with the rest, at least not something to feel as he was a part from a 'family.' Maybe that's why many people thought that he was a part of nothing. Maybe that's why he never felt as a part of something. Maybe that's why he always felt loneliness inside him-

In the end he decided to ignore it as the chamber went back to its arguments, the other countries minding their own matters. He could follow their example and do the same, but God, for an unknown reason he couldn't focus on the reality anymore.

With the elbow propped on the table, he left his head to slump onto his palm, his gaze looking into nowhere. Little by little, his mind lost the contact with what happens around him, questions and questions crossing through it. His memory went back to the times when he used to be in good relations with other countries, but thinking more on this, it was more like a lie than an actual truth. He might wanted to be friend with a country, but in the meantime he was foe with another one. He might wanted to be friend with someone, but the reality did not allowed him. His kind was different than a normal human and this was something that burned him years after years. All we was able to do was to follow the diplomacy imposed by his boss. Make some friends and kill them later. But he got used to this and now he preferred the present times. The past was always something ambiguous for him, but maybe he just hated the sadness behind it. He did not have an easy timeline, but what kind of soul like his did?

He was proud of his name and he could not deny it because thousands and thousands of his people died for this name and the meaning of it. Dying for its freedom, its glory and its unity. Protecting it with all their hopes and all their dreams, believing in a better future full of prosperity. Yes, he was proud of his name, but like any other thing, this too had two sides.

From the time he was "born", he was inherited with this name and the legacy that followed soon. But when did all of this happened, he did not know. He had many ways of calling himself after all and Wallachia was one of them.

Ah, the old times when he was able to kick Turkey's ass back into the Ottomans days, he though.

Yes, those were some good times, but bad in the same proportion. Being under the control of an empire wasn't a happy thing, and Vlad knew this the best.

But the deep of these seven letters was much bigger. It did not start in the Ottoman years, but much earlier. Maybe the years of… of…

His head started to hurt in a trying of remembering the events before it. It was a period that he did not like at all and that's why he tried a lot of times to forget it, but maybe that's why he also forgot from where his name came.

When did it all started –

How did it all started –

Those were questions without answers and opinions without any meaning, nothing more, nothing less.