The white halls were almost engraved in his eyes when he woke up to the sight of the ceiling. The sound of a beeping heart monitor felt like drums that ticked away at what remained of his time.
A deathbed was never something he thought he would experience after a long time of managing a company. He thought it would end with a heart attack, or slowly overworking himself to the bone with how tense the atmosphere in his workplace had gotten after the events on the balcony.
His successor to the company vanished before his eyes and met an untimely, young end at the party he had organised.
Losing his son was a blow he couldn't imagine he would have to bear.
Plans were made to make the younger, much less experienced daughter an heir, yet it was a burden he knew she couldn't carry, but there was no other choice. The pigs hogging to claim fame were ever-present, and even if he took the most rigorous repercussions, they would still find a way to break them.
It showed the ugly side of himself he thought he could hide, but as if the world was out to get him, even his daughter too disappeared.
He knew what he was putting his son through and wanted to keep it hidden from her, but her perceptiveness was too good. Her unwillingness wasn't unnoticed, but to think she would rather throw away everything he built from the ground up rather than accept the burden was unthinkable to him.
No matter how much he tried to find her, it was all for nothing.
The only report he was given was that the last time people saw her was when she aimed for the main bridge, connecting the two halves of the city before disappearing altogether. That was all the witnesses said.
How could her father believe such a fabricated tale? Of course he couldn't.
He went so far out of his way, but the illness that permeated his body was getting too hard to bear. Daily painkillers only prolonged the inevitable.
The eventuality came to pass, and he ended up with a needle piercing his arm, feeding him nutrients to keep him alive, two tubes sticking out of his nostrils, the neverending beeping, and the whiteness.
Even if he tried to look down and see his wrinkled skin and thin form, most of it was hidden under a blanket that felt extremely heavy. Even if he had the strength to lift it up, it would only make him think about how he hadn't died already.
These doctors were too good at keeping him alive, even if he thought he had nothing to do in his life anymore.
Two knocks reached his ears before the doors opened, revealing his wife behind them. She bowed to the nurse and entered. Once a click echoed in the room, leaving them alone, she sat down on a chair.
"Dear, how are you holding up?" she asked, her voice quivering.
The husband opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out were deep and painful coughs. His entire body fought against them before a spat on the blanket revealed a large red stain.
She jolted up from her seat but he stopped her with his hand. "Is… is the paperwork done?"
He thought she would only stay there like a statue with a worried look, but she eventually took a deep breath. "Yes."
Those words were like a sudden drop of honey to him. That was probably the best news he could have gotten at that point. He was sure nothing good would come out of the doctor's mouth anyway.
"And do you have everything you need?" the husband asked, barely able to lift his head, but just a glance at her watery eyes made him look away.
"Yes," she answered, and her face scrunched up.
He laid back on his bed. "That's… good."
Every word he said made his throat sore. With each cough he made, his chest felt tighter and tighter. He wished for his wife to lead the rest of her own life in peace, separated from the mess that was their family.
In no small part thanks to him.
They weren't separated as much as they were now. His son died right in front of his eyes, his daughter abandoned him, and now he was about to leave his wife too. Yet, every time he thought of them, their smiles were the first memory that came.
The smiles he strived to protect.
So where did he make a wrong turn?
Or how many?
"Dear, is there anything else you want to say?" she asked, sitting back down.
"I have nothing," he said, mustering all his willpower to speak. "You know what I have done, and I can only hope you will forgive me."
"I…" she paused, buying herself time to form her words. "I am saddened by your state. Had I known your condition was so dire, I would have been able to—"
"Stop," he interrupted her, leaning his head away. "We both know nothing can be done now. Don't make me regret the farewell we've already had."
Her breath hitched, letting out a sob before holding her hand in front of her lips. She stood up and bowed. It was too formal for their relationship, but she decided to pay respect to his husband's wish.
Once the doors opened, she looked back at her lover one last time. "Goodbye, Vlad."
If Vlad could count his sore wheeze as a snort, then at least it would tell her using his nickname at a time like this wouldn't be appropriate. It was quite a long time ago since she called him that, when they were a much younger, teasing couple.
Vlad didn't have the will to feel annoyed. He moved his arm away from the sheets and cringed when he saw the wrinkled skin on his hand. Through all that, finding the wedding ring on his finger made a smile creep on his face.
Those were simpler times.
Another wheeze escaped Vlad's mouth before his eyes instinctively closed shut. As his body felt weaker and weaker, he always wondered if it would be the last rest he would ever have, yet it didn't seem to come.
Vlad's head grew limp, and his mind ceased to function, entering the black void while the beeping monitor kept him company. Until there was a single never-ending beep reaching his ears for a second before everything went completely silent.
{*}{*}{*}{*}{*}{*}
Darkness.
How long did Vlad have to suffer in his body to enjoy the stillness and emptiness of such a place? Even if he left the world behind on a note he'd rather wish to bury and forget. Some people could say this place was too good for him, but with nobody around to argue, he had no reason to feel ashamed.
Yet, Vlad would have never imagined his slumber would be accompanied by a very soft feeling on his back, like tiny feathers brushing against him with the slightest of movements. The place also had a pleasant smell, as if he was surrounded by fresh wood.
However, it made Vlad question why these senses came back after the last rest on his deathbed. The curiosity made him want to open his eyes, but they were sealed shut, as if they didn't want him to see.
Through the protests, he scrunched his face as tightly as he could before snapping his eyes wide open, and was immediately assaulted by harsh light. Once he got accustomed, the light slowly faded away, and to his shock, he saw a crown of trees.
While Vlad could believe this was his purgatory, his body was somehow able to lift itself up ever so slightly, despite the fact a simple blanket was too heavy for him not long ago. It didn't matter, because confusion came over him when he found himself in a forest.
A regular forest that wasn't anything special at first glance.
Vlad thought if he would ever wake up, it would be in a coffin, but this was far from what he expected. Of course, it could be a dream, reminiscing about what happened before his death, but it was hard to decide if that was the case.
A pinch would do the trick. However, he needed no convincing when a shot of pain ran down his back as he tried to fully stand up. The weight of his body felt alien, making him look down and realize he had actual clothing.
It wasn't a hospital gown, but a fur coat hanging from his shoulders, complemented by a brigandine, strapped together with a series of belts. Vlad remembered his son being quite interested in medieval history, forcing him to listen to his rambling at times, but he would never wear such things.
Once he took a deep breath, he was glad that a giant puff of vapor came out of his mouth instead of coughs. A breeze brushed past him, sending shivers across his body, and he was now silently thankful for what he wore, despite his initial thoughts.
A single neigh from behind him interrupted his musings, making him whip his head to a horse, idly waiting. It was a brown steed with several satchels strapped to it with a long leather scabbard running parallel to its body. With a saddle on its back, it looked like somebody lost a traveling partner.
However, it gave Vlad an expectant look while he warily gazed at it from afar.
The steed tilted its head to the side before letting out a restless huff. Vlad took a step back, but the horse followed, making him ease his stance. He got closer before reaching out with his hand and the steed only waited, curious to know what Vlad was doing before he touched its nuzzle.
It was soft, and Vlad absentmindedly noted his skin wasn't wrinkled, but healthy. He gazed down at his palm and was surprised it was his hand, with only a few healed blisters. He balled it up into a fist, feeling the seemingly forgotten tightness of his fingers.
How?
He shook his head. There is no reason to ponder here of all places, not until I know where I am exactly.
He pulled on the horse's harness before hoisting himself up on the saddle. The horse let out another huff, ready to leave.
As much as he hated most people he built connections with, at least now one of them came as a boon. Learning how to ride on horseback was not a skill Vlad thought he would use.
He lightly squeezed the horse with his legs and urged it to move. If there was one thing he knew, it was that without food or water, he would soon lose whatever he had gained.
{*}{*}{*}{*}{*}{*}
The constant clapping of the horse's hooves and Vlad's rattling clothing didn't make the trek quick, but he wasn't in any rush. He felt at ease after being inside the hospital's white halls for so long, even if the questions hovering over his mind kept him the worst company.
Most of them could be summed up to; Where was I? How could I move? Why did I have these possessions on me?
However, not a single one could be answered by him alone, and if fate was simply toying with him, he had no clue.
Vlad found himself near a river, seamlessly dividing a large valley filled with mountains, ready to pierce the clear skies. The place wasn't disturbed in any way, as deer, rabbits, and all kinds of wildlife ran around without being alarmed by his presence. It was an odd feeling, not meeting a person as the first living thing, even if he didn't take the horse into account.
He brought the steed to a stop near the river before carefully dismounting. His legs fell on the ground with a dull thud and he reached the clear river, void of dirt and garbage. It seemed clean enough, but losing the comfort of having water on a tap was already getting on his nerves.
Vlad never liked the scout regime that his own parents forced him to attend.
Once he cupped some water, it made his body jolt from the cold before taking a small sip. It didn't taste like metal, nor did it make him gag, so it seemed safe enough. The horse by his side didn't even bother, as it was already drinking right from the source.
It wasn't like Vlad could have expected more from an actual animal.
He searched through the bags that were hung on the horse and eventually found a water skin. He immediately cringed and thought about how dirty the container could be, before drenching it in water to give it a clean-up.
It was at that point he saw his reflection in the water, and it would be an understatement to say that it shocked him.
He saw his younger self in the water.
Healthy skin, green eyes, a soft round chin with no beard, and short brown hair. It made him step back before touching his cheek and felt just how smooth it was compared to the wrinkled mess he was in the hospital. He looked like a young adult with a vagabond suit from the middle ages and still had no answer as to why.
Vlad turned back to the horse, who still was nose deep in the lake and searched through the bags once more. Most things he found were either provisions or camping equipment, but the outlier was the sheath, hidden in plain sight and dangling next to the horse's side.
Carefully untying all the belts that secured the sheath in place rewarded him with a long, narrow shaft that almost eclipsed his six-foot height. The hilt was wrapped in a hardened brown cloth, with the silver tip and guard gleaming under the sun.
It was a sword, but Vlad couldn't believe they were ever this big. He was curious enough to unsheathe the weapon, and its aforementioned length came into view.
The sheath wasn't lying, much to his surprise, but what caught Vlad off-guard was its weight. He held many metal objects in his life, but once his age caught up with him he couldn't even handle a pen. It was shocking to see himself carrying such a large object with surprising ease.
The handle comfortably fit in his hands, and once he took an admittedly sloppy swing, it didn't throw him off balance as he thought it would. His legs were firmly stuck in place, as if ready for such action.
The horse noticed Vlad's antics, and let out a questioning chortle. He turned, his face settling in a frown.
"Don't look at me like that," he said before his breath hitched under his voice.
It was young, too young to be his own. He instinctively covered his mouth, only to let out a hum to see if he heard correctly. Again, the same young voice came out. He gazed at the river behind him, and realisation dawned on him.
I aged back.
A single splash reached his ears before whipping his head to the source, and spotted a fish offshore, flapping for dear life. It took him time to come to his senses before he saw potential dinner. He shook his head before raising his sword and stabbing the fish.
It took him a few tries.
{*}{*}{*}{*}{*}{*}
Vlad wasn't used to an open flame.
Usually, he gazed at one via the comfort of his own fireplace, but now, it threatened to stain his dinner with its floating sparks. Not to mention how sweaty it made him despite the cold permeating the evening sky. He poked the skewered fish with a stick to check if it was done, but it bounced off, making him groan.
A roar of wind passed by in a flash, angling the flames right toward him. He shielded himself with his hands before the fire touched his forearms ever so slightly. It didn't burn, but specks of ash littered his armguards, and an annoyed Vlad brushed them off.
Being on an open field where any wind could easily pass by and put his fire out wasn't one of the better decisions he had made.
Sadly, Vlad couldn't do anything about it now.
He didn't even tie the horse to a tree to make sure it wouldn't go anywhere, but the steed was comfortably sitting on the cold ground instead of running away. Every time Vlad gazed at the horse, thinking of such a scenario, it seemed to know what he was thinking and always gave him some sort of a half-lidded look.
At least I have some comfort knowing my way of travel isn't going anywhere, he thought, but staring at the fire gave him other things to worry about.
As much as Vlad wanted to panic over what was happening, he was surprisingly calm, to an extent. Yes, the questions he had were annoying to deal with, but it wasn't to the point it was the only thing he had to pay attention to. He could try to forget the life he left behind, and make it a simple one of being a hunter, or something similar, far from the society that had drained him.
Vlad couldn't help but chuckle at the idea. I never thought something so ridiculous could have crossed my mind.
Vlad gave the roasting fish one more glance, and after another poke, he assessed that the meat was done and took it out of the fire. Brandishing a small knife, he cut the fish open, only to realise he had forgotten to gut it first.
He cringed but decided to carefully nitpick the meat out of the carcass, adding more to his ever-increasing frustration. Once he took a bite, the meat was dull, and didn't taste much of anything. Still, he picked off all the meat that he could, and somewhat successfully sated his hunger.
After he was done, he went back to the river and cleaned his knife and hands from his messy dinner, and absentmindedly landed on his reflection with his eyes. Vlad gazed at it contemptibly, a neutral frown settling on his face. He cupped a small amount of water before rinsing his entire face and breathing a sigh.
The water in the river suddenly shook with activity. Small ripples vibrated on the surface, making Vlad raise an eyebrow. His feet felt a small quake, but not to the point it could leave Vlad off-balance. He grew wary, and lifted himself up to gaze at the forest far away in the valley.
The ground grew restless from the vibrations, even forcing Vlad's steed to perk up and rise to its feet. Birds suddenly started to fly away from their nests within the crowns, and a tree suddenly snapped, echoing within Vlad's ears.
His heart skipped a beat, and he immediately bolted toward his horse before quickly mounting it. The steed became restless, tiptoeing in place and ready to run away at the first sight of danger, but Vlad forced it to stay in place.
A gust of wind—so strong it almost knocked Vlad off his mount—sailed through the valley, lifting up loose leaves and branches from the ground that were flying his way. Vlad gritted his teeth and brought his arms up while closing his eyes as the debris dinged at his armour.
He couldn't open his eyes yet, not until the harsh wind subsided and once he looked up, his breath hitched.
A living black-scaled wyrm in the sky was haphazardly trying to keep itself afloat with its wings. While it was too far away to notice Vlad, the sheer size and abnormality of the monster made Vlad freeze on the spot.
The wyrm let out a shrieking cry at the forest below before taking a deep breath. Magma began to leak from its mouth like a broken faucet and it reeled its head back before launching a stream of fire down on the ground.
The sounds of crackling flame began to spread through the forest in a flash, and despite how far Vlad was from the forest, he could still feel the heat through all of his layers. Without hesitation, he whipped the reins and the horse carried him as far away as it could, far from any danger.
He didn't dare look back. For all he knew, the wyrm could have its sight on him at the moment, but then a red light flashed at the corner of his eyes and his temptation got the better of him.
He turned his head, and saw a red dot—much like a star—flying through the spewing flames of the wyvern, somehow the red tint still distinct within the fiery hell. It surged towards the wyvern and entered its mouth.
The monster cried out in pain from the sudden morsel, and the red star pierced through the entire beast within a moment, exiting from the other side. It left behind a gaping hole on the back of the wyrm and shut its cries down before the flying beast dispersed into black ambers. They were carried away by the wind like a pile of ash while the only thing left behind was the burning forest.
Vlad gawked at the display the entire time and eventually forced his steed to stop and gaze at the floating red star in the distance. To his surprise, it didn't fly away as he was expecting. It was gaining speed, but not altitude. In fact, it was plummeting down to the ground at a rapid pace before fading away entirely, with only a red-coloured dot left behind.
Vlad couldn't help but grit his teeth. Where the hell did I end up?
He lashed with the reins and urged the horse to bolt towards the falling dot in the distance. He had to find out what was going on even though he was betting on a risk he would usually ignore. If flying wyrms or any familiar beasts were running amock around these parts then he had to take what he could get.
A dull thud resonated throughout the valley, and once Vlad spotted a dust cloud within a relatively safe forest, he rushed towards the landing sight.
Eventually, he reached the forest, deciding to bring the sheathe with him just in case. It was a quick search, and he had a lot of expectations about what he would find.
A person was definitely not one of them.
While he couldn't tell much because of them being face down, seeing several burn marks on their black and red armour was enough to assume it was them who defeated the wyvern. However, it just didn't sit well with Vlad. The past few minutes brought so many more questions than the entire day he spent just toying with his new-found chance at living.
But now, he had to put all of it aside, because there was a person in front of him who might as well be at death's door. He carefully turned the person around and eventually hoisted them up on his thigh, and Vlad's heart skipped a beat.
For a split second, he thought he was seeing the face of his daughter, burned and hurt. However, the mirage quickly faded away and what was left was a young girl with long crimson hair.
Vlad vigorously shook his head and checked to make sure she was still alive. She was breathing but struggling to. With how long she was inside that beast's flames, Vlad wouldn't be surprised if her lungs were burned.
He let out a loud whistle, and his steed quickly came to his side. He carefully searched through his belongings to find something that would help him treat this girl and he eventually found a prism-shaped bottle with some bandages.
He had no idea what was inside the bottle and took a whiff, only to recoil under the strong herbal smell. His nose jostled under the intensity. If this isn't a medicine then I don't know what is.
Once he tried to pour some over the wound, the liquid was extremely viscous and had a teal colour. Whatever it was, he still decided to rub it on top of most of the visible burn marks on her body, some of which he had to remove the armour for.
He was struggling, but soon enough, he had done all that he could. The last thing to do was give her something for her sore throat.
He was thankful for that waterskin for once. He uncorked it before hoisting her head and letting the tip of the waterskin lean on her lips. A small stream of water flowed down into her mouth and, to Vlad's relief, she drank it.
She took it slow, and her tired eyes slowly began to open, revealing a set of equally crimson irises. It was a slightly unsettling sight, seeing somebody with natural red eyes, but that wasn't important.
"Are you alright?" Vlad asked, carefully putting the waterskin away, but all he got was a tired groan. "Can you speak?"
"I…" her voice was quiet, too quiet for Vlad, and a frown formed on his features.
"No, don't speak. Not a great time to ask questions," he admitted. "Let's get you up."
He gently started to lift the girl, allowing her to fully lean on his body before she eventually stood on both of her legs. She couldn't hold her balance, but she was able to turn her head in Vlad's direction.
However, she didn't say anything and instead began to walk forward. Barely.
"Wait," he said but the girl completely ignored him.
She outstretched her left hand as she was trying to grab something while ragged breaths escaped her mouth. "I… have to collect the rings. For… Mother."
Her leg buckled and fell on the ground with a dull thud and Vlad quickly reached to her side. "You can barely stand. Come on, I'll take you somewhere safer."
Even if Vlad was lying through his teeth, there had to be a place somewhere where they could take a breather and give this girl time to recover.
If she even could.
He used his new-found young body to fully pick the girl up from the ground and allow her to rest on top of his steed. Once she was secured, he idly noticed something shining under the dim rays of light piercing the tree crowns. He bent down to pick it up, only to find a simple golden ring with a navy blue gem.
He glanced at the girl on his steed for a moment before he put it inside one of his pockets. Taking hold of the reins of the steed while on foot, he clicked his tongue once and left the place.
Because something told him staying at one spot wouldn't bode well.
AN: Well, I know I've taken my time with this one, but I think I'm ready to start posting it.
Welcome to Under A Wing, Vlad's story through the world of Elyos that takes place during the war of the Divine and Fell Dragons. So yeah, quite far away from the original plot. Since there isn't said much about it, I took the liberty to expand it my own way and tell a story on how the war went. Sure, it might be a bit of a stretch and a niche topic, but still, this is a passion project more than anything else.
Like every fanfiction ever to be fair.
Anyway, this fic will be under a strict two-week upload schedule, and I know that might sound presumptuous, but I'm prepared... hopefully.
I'd like to pass my thanks to the Fanfiction Treehouse discord server for being a great company, and especially Cavik for not only helping me with the idea but also proofreading today's chapter. If you want to join the server, here's the link: gg/u89gs745fn
Thank you for reading today's chapter. Let Vlad's story unfold.
God's speed.