Chapter 8: Past, Present and Painting

"Tell me Seras, what was your life like before you met me?" Vlad asked as he swung from his bedframe, his legs wrapping around one of the bedposts. She looked up from her book with narrowed eyes, and contemplated for a moment before setting down her book. She marked her page and ambled up to the young Vlad with a raised eyebrow. She had never put down her book before without god reason so this perked Vlad's interest.

She tapped her knuckles lightly against the bedpost, and it was like as if she shook the entire bed with all her strength. Vlad tumbled down, bouncing onto his bed, his hair tousled to the impact of the fall. He immediately shot back up with an angry frown. Seras didn't say another word after that little incident, simply walking away into the darkness leaving a frustrated and confused Vlad.

The following week he asked again, he was given a similar response, this time while they while eating lunch next to the forest river. He was persistent once more. As being only a fifteen year old he was quite annoying and agitating at most. So she responded by saying something foreign and strange which made his spine tingle. The next moment he realised that all the birds in the surrounding area began coming to him and hassling him. Squawking at his ears, pulling at his clothes and leaving white marks on his clothes. They left when Seras muttered once more in her strange language, and by that time Vlad was thoroughly jostled and his hate for birds began to sprout from there. But he learnt from that incident that if he continued to pester Sera about her past he would receive similar treatment back. And possibly worse depending on her mood.

But there was one day, when it was raining and there was no sight of the sun. It was a quiet day with nothing special going on, and there was nothing for them to amuse themselves on that dreary day. Seras didn't particularly mind but Vlad was fidgety and extremely bored. He had not been out or the entire day, and there was no-one for him to spar with as they had all taken that day off. So they were quietly sitting in his room, Seras absentmindedly combing through his hair as he tapped his fingers against the glass window.

It was then she spoke, Vlad never knew why she revealed this part of her but he took in the information and held it close to him. After all it was the first and last time she ever told him something which had showed her previous life. He kept the memory close with him, her soft voice and her placid expression and her far off eyes. As if recalling something she didn't even want to remember.

"I was a single child. My father was an enforcer of law. And my mother was a housewife. I lived in solitude, they died early. The other children didn't like me. I did strange things. I said strange things. I saw strange things. I was strange. And…I preferred it that way. I didn't have to belong to society to be myself. It was a suppressive society and full of controversies. And I didn't belong there. So I simply…left…" Seras trailed off, her moving hands stopped. Vlad was completely silent, he didn't dare make a single sound. They sat there for what seemed like an eternity to Vlad.

"I…found a place where they accepted me. I found someone…I could love…" She let out a huge sigh as she leaned back away from him with tied eyes. She look in a deep breath and let it out slowly. It was an unnecessary breath, she didn't even need to do it. It was painful to watch, Vlad didn't know what to do, and he didn't understand what she was feeling. But knowing that she loved someone so long ago set something off in him. It was only until he was several years older that he understood this feeling as jealousy.

"But if things went my way, I wouldn't even be here", Seras said abruptly. She stood up suddenly and left the room in a storm of ash and smoke, leaving a confused and puzzled Vlad. He pulled his ring off, the one given by Seras as a good luck charm. He studied the ring for a moment, twirling the gold band around his fingers.

"I wonder if this was given to her by the one she loved…" He cussed, tossing the ring onto his bedside table. His impulsive anger was unreasonable but he felt confused and lost. How old was she? Who did she love? What's her full name? Where did she come from? Who was this witch by the name of Seras? He wrapped his arms around his legs, silently cursing the dull and dreary day.

He didn't see her at all the next day.

Vlad blinked his eyes, averting them from the sudden light. 'A dream. No a memory…' He groaned as he slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes, his muscles flexing as he stretched. 'I would have rather remembered nothing', he thought angrily. He saw the bedsheets shift as the woman next to him moaned out in tiredness, stretching her arms. She turned to face Vlad with half-closed eyes.

"Good morning Vlad", she mumbled. Vlad ignored her, getting out of bed, pulling one of the bedsheets with her. Pausing only to open one of his locked draws and pull out a leather necklace, with a small pouch attached to it. He walked away to a separate room where she could hear him changing. She sighed, he was exactly the same when the married. Always with the distant expression and the same cold eyes. It seems being wife wasn't good enough if she didn't even have his heart, but she knew exactly why she couldn't obtain his. Their wedding was a shotgun one. On the spot with sparse vows of loyalty and love. And only because she had given birth to a son, unlike his first wife who was infertile and had suicided once she heard that he had been captured.

She heard the splashing of water, and realised that this morning would be the same. The rest of the day would be passed on without a word and most likely a without second glance. The man didn't even have the love for his own son, sparing not even a glance for his wife and child. His duties came first, everything came second. She didn't question it, after all she was only wife. She wasn't particularly great at politics and she wasn't good at speeches. The only thing she had in power was name.

However sometimes when passing the baby bed she would catch him staring intently at the small child which was his own, leaning down to get a better look. As if he was seeing something in the child that she didn't see, but those moments was sparse and rare. She had only seen him do it twice.

Despite all of the servants trying to hide it from her, she soon found out the reason for her husband's lack of love for her, or any other women. Physical pleasures was the only thing he sought for, no emotional attachments. But there was once a woman who claimed his heart. That was five years ago, and no-one was even allowed to speak of her name. But through rumours and gossip she found out.

"They say she was free-spirited as an eagle, no-one could hold her down. She only served the Lord Vlad. Only obeying his command. Always by his side, and through her help and advice he rose through the blood and dead to become the once great and powerful Vlad Tepes, Voivode of Wallachia", the woman murmured. Her eyes cast down.

"She was foreign woman, with golden hair, blue eyes and fair skin. She was not from these lands. She was strange, and it seemed this strangeness is what contributed to Lord Vlad's love for her", a servant mumbled.

"I met her once, when Lord Vlad was still in great power. She was a strange character of sorts, she had this way of talking which made you feel calm and her advice was almost future-like. Predicting things that no-one could. She truly left an impression on me, I can never forget the way she smiled. Warm and bright. Her laugh. Airy and breathless. Her eyes. Clear and a reflective pool of water. She was nothing like anyone had seen", the man said with awe. His eyes distant, recalling the young woman that he had only met once. He was a merchant of trading and despite only meeting her once in the market place he could never rid of the image he had of her.

"No-one knows where she came from, when she came and when she became Vlad's most loyal and trusted aide. It was as if she was there from the start, a bewitching woman I have heard", the elderly woman croaked out. "But hear me well, that woman was most definitely not human. I do not have any care for what others say, but heed my words. She was not human".

The words rang in her head, it constantly bothered her the rest of the day. And by the end of the week she decided that enough was enough, and through various connections she managed to find someone who actually had a painting of her. It was sent through an anonymous messenger, and the following month she managed to obtain it. It was a small painting, no bigger than a good sized book. As she peeled away the strips of paper she slowly revealed the woman which she had heard so much of. She was hesitant, it was as if she revealing a dark history that would better be off not known but curiosity soon won over her common sense.

She blinked her eyes for a moment, it wasn't a particularly sketchy painting but she just didn't know what to say. The woman was sitting beside the windowsill, her jaw resting on her left palm as she looked out through the glass. Her eyes half-closed and she had a pleasant smile on her face, in her other hand was a book. It was a warm painting and whoever painted the portrait did it while she wasn't paying attention. The woman was beautiful for sure, she was full of curves with full breasts and slender form. She was truly a foreign beauty, and the artist had captured it all.

Ilona lightly ran her fingers across the rough canvas, the texture of the paint was bumpy and it was a little amateurish at places. But this was the only picture she had of this mysterious woman called Seras. And she could understand as a woman why she so coveted by Vlad. She may have never met Seras in real life, but the emotion and feeling conveyed through the painting itself was enough to explain how the artist was feeling when he was drawing her.

It was all the explaining she needed. Although she was curious, who was the artist? She flipped the canvas over, looking for a signature and there she found one.

Vlad Dracula III

She almost dropped the canvas in shock and surprise, she quickly looked around the room searching for any prying eyes. She suddenly felt incredibly guilty, as if she was caught in the act of doing something very naughty. And she was. She took another look, just to make sure her eyes weren't playing fool with her. It was the same. She let out a heavy breath and a tired sigh. She didn't even knew that her husband could paint. But then again what did she know of her husband? She didn't know his interests, hobbies or even what he did in his free time. They may be married legally and sleep together and consummate but that was all. Besides Vlad wasn't faithful to her, and she couldn't say anything against it.

"Ohhh…I need to hide this", she moaned out as she scratched her head. Searching for any place to hide it, but soon realising that it was pointless. The servants constantly went through her personal belongings for safety and to check if she would betray her husband. What was she to do?! The gust of wind sent a pile of ash from the fireplace up around the room, stinging her nostrils. She flashed her eyes to the fireplace, looking back down hesitantly at the painting.

Could she do it? She didn't know. But soon enough she was starting a fire, prodding at the charcoal and wood with the metal stick. Her hands shaking in fear if her husband ever found out what she was doing. Finally when the fire was strong and burning brightly, she carefully rewrapped the painting with a heavy sense of guilt. Steeling any bit of courage she had left she prepared herself to fling the canvas into the flames. But before she could the double doors opened to have a foreboding and moody Vlad walk through. His tall frame suddenly making her feel her small, despite him being a few good metres away from her. She felt her heart drop, quickly hiding the painting behind her back hoping that he wouldn't notice anything. He looked down at her with bored eyes, already disinterested.

He walked past her, placing his sword on one of the tables and swinging his cape over his shoulder and onto the bed. Ilona didn't utter a single word and when she saw that he was about to leave to the bathroom she almost let out a sigh. But then he suddenly stopped in tracks, slowly turning around.

There was something strange, she usually bothered to say something. Of course he ignored it, but he knew it was a regular thing she did, and today she looking quite straight and prim. From the corner of his eye he could see a small sliver of sweat trailing down her neck. He straightened out his back, and ambled to her. From his stance point he could clearly see that she was holding something behind her back. He snorted, he would've thought she would try to hide it better. Or destroy it. He slowly blinked his eyes noticing that the fire was burning strongly and that it was freshly turned.

'Hoh, so she is trying to destroy something', he thought with a sneer. Leaning down and using his brute strength he pried the object from her hands. She protested but he silenced her with one single look, she fell back onto her knees pleading to any sort of God who would listen that her husband would spare her from whatever anger he would have.

Vlad widened his eyes in shock, the feeling of the package. The smell of paints. The size. It couldn't be... He tore of the paper wrapping around it, revealing the small portrait of his Seras which he drew so long ago. When he was merely seventeen, her smiling expression was so familiar and her laid back form was something he had become accustomed to seeing during the early mornings. His eyes softened at the painting, his fingers lightly running across the canvas, trying to capture the moment in his mind once more as he did so many years ago.

It was such a fleeting memory and one that brought him great pain inside his chest. His hand trembling slightly as he held onto the canvas. But how did it get here? He had lost the painting so many years ago when he was released or what he better thought as escaped.

Ilona was completely silent, not even daring to make the slightest bit of sound. She was petrified for her life, her terrifying and monster like husband whose temper was greater than the Gods themselves was what she feared. She prayed and prayed that no harm would befall onto her but the more she thought about it the more it seemed like she was going to die this night. But just as she was contemplating about pleading for her life to her husband she saw something that she had never seen before. Her cruel husband, known for his horrific torture methods was smiling. It was such a faint smile, it wasn't sinister nor evil in any sort of way. It was simply a fond smile as he looked at the painting.

Her eyes widening in shock, never had she seen that. Such a kind expression from her husband, her breath stopped for a moment. 'I didn't even know he could make such an expression…' She thought sadly for a moment. What type of person was Seras that Vlad would hold her so close to his heart to make that sort of expression?

"Ilona", his voice rumbled in the room. She immediately shot up, standing up with two trembling legs. Vlad slowly looked up from the painting, with pitch black eyes, a slight grimace on his face. "Leave the room", he gestured towards the door. She didn't waste any time running out and shutting the door quickly behind her, she took a deep breath. She didn't even realise how long she had been holding her breath for, but all she knew, that for whatever reason her husband had spared her life. And she didn't know what to think. Was she to be grateful? Happy? Or disappointed…

Vlad carefully pulled one of his chests open, rewrapping the canvas once more. He gently placed the panting into the chest, along with his other old belongings, they were few but he kept them close to him. He had no clue where Ilona where she got it from, but for the first time he was not angry at her. Perhaps more thankful as now he had found something he had lost years ago. But how did she find it? He decided it was best not to think about it, it was not like as if he was to live beyond sixty he thought grimly. With the way things were he would be already quite surprised it he lived beyond fifty.

"Isn't death a funny thing, Seras?" He said out loud, not caring who would hear him. He was already dubbed as insane and crazy and he would gladly go along with it. If he was a monster everyone so hatefully feared then he would be that monster.

It's a filler. I don't have much to say. Sorry. I think Vlad will die in the next chapter? I don't know. I usually shotgun my chapters, I really don't think about how I should type them until when I am actually typing it. I will usually type half on one day and the rest the next day, this way I have a fresh canvas to think upon so I can make adjustments to the text if it doesn't seem good.

That's all I have to say. Sit tight, because I don't know when I get the time to type up the next chapter.

Fave, follow, review.

Peace out.