What would he say? He, Vlad the Impaler. Vlad the merciless. Vlad the obedient. What was for him to say to his father? The man who hadcondemned him for a greater good, a greater people? He can barely remember him, memories in a haze he can't possibly see past the swords, daggers, and screams of rage and pain, swallowing him, drowning him.His father is an unknown;a variable that he cannotaccount for. He had cometo this place in search ofpeace, a memory of softwords echoing amongstthe clang of metal. That, he assumed, was his mother.What would he say to her? To the owner of whispered nothings, the owner of warm hands and the owner of a soothing embrace that let him know that he would be alright, even if he was left with nothing to believe but otherwise. Would he have forgiven them both? Would he have given his word, his vow, to let them lay at peace once they had passed? Vlad was once cruel, a past he would not have had be it for his father. Would he be cruel in return?No. He would not. He understands a prince's place, a king's heart one just as heavy as his head. But he would not have forgiven him.Perhaps, in another time he would have.Perhaps, with the right words, Vlad wouldhave welcomed them with open arms.Alas. He is still the cruel man he grew up as, no matter his protests that say -- plead -- otherwise.He is a man. A man is not a forgiving God. ❝ I would have said nothing. ❞ Why? ❝ For we have nothing to discuss. ❞
