Birth of a Crimson Feather

✠︎ The White Dragon ✠︎ [Wheat's Dream]

The smell of flour.

Wheat's nose was almost tingling to the sensation and his mind and heart were feeling a very safe emotion engulfing them. It was as if he was passing by a bakery, one he was very familiar with. So odd, he doesn't eat human food so how is the smell of bread familiar to him?

"I chose this memory from deep within your cold heart. I am sure you would have forgotten it by now, after all, your family stopped having people baking bread the moment you turned eight."

"Baking? My memory? I dont think I ever had this type of recollection before...In fact, I dont think I ever lived this before. I am a Vampire, why would I need bread for?"

"You dont believe me...hmmm... Even though I have proved before, I know everything about you and your family. You can rejoice, I will entertain you just this once."

Wheat felt like he knew who the person was but he was traveling so deep inside his slumber that a lot of things felt inaccurate and jumbled in his mind.

"I would be in your debt, kind voice of the unknown, by all means, tell me about MY own family!"

His answer sounded snickering as he breathed out those words.

"Classic answer, I was expecting you to be standoffish. The answer is simple, your mother and father were in love with the smell of bread when they were younger, they would always meet in a field of wheat and when it came time to birth you, your mother asked of the most renowned baker in the land to bake the sweetest type of bread to celebrate you, her newborn."

"That is such a silly notion. My mother is the coldest person I know, she stops at nothing, and frankly, she has little to no emotional capacity."

"Yes, now. After all these years a person tends to turn a bit cold, especially a Vampire. I mean look at you!"

"This is such a vacuous insult."

"That may be true but the fact remains, you take after your mother in several facets of your personality and that makes me wonder..."

The tone of the voice had clearly changed. Wheat was starting to understand who that person was, he opened his eyes but he only saw a large field of wheat grains unfolding in front of him. At the end of it, he spotted a man's figure sitting on a gray chair. He instantly sighed and started walking towards the man.

The figure was looking tall even while sitting down, a fact that always made Wheat feel a bit odd. He thought it might have been because he himself had the same look to him when he was sitting. A look he disliked sharing with the man he had before him. It was only natural though that he would look like that even when seated.

Vampires are known to be very tall and their demeanor towers over other people. But he knew the true reason why that man looked so tall and intimidating. It was his magic. This man was Wheat's employer, Jerald Price also widely known as Master Ortygious.

"Ortygious, what is the meaning of this? Why would you conjure a dream within my memories just to chat?"

Wheat uttered before coming any closer to his employer.

"The meaning of this, dear pawn, is your lack of updates. You failed to communicate with me for two night falls straight. What on the Dark Spear are you even doing?"

Wheat did not feel intimidated by Ortygious, that was not his issue at the moment. He felt rather insulted and this hurt his pride a great deal. He wanted to dig his teeth into this man's back and snap his head clean off but his job had taught him to always measure things twice. And this was not a clever idea to realize right now.

"In my defense, the witch was accompanied by a dragon born. This particular mutt is very clingy to Cassandra, I dont know what his issue is but he is always close to her, trying to protect her without thinking of his well-being. You are aware of how fearless those types of creatures are. So you better watch your words, Ortygious, I know how to do my job."

The man stood up and tapped his big scepter on the ground. He turned and looked at Wheat with a great smile gracing his face. Ortygious was old enough to be a father or an uncle, but he looked like he was drinking from the fountain of youth. His eyes were glistening while he was batting his eyelashes in front of Wheat.

"If you knew how to do your job well, then these two wouldn't be breathing right now. I have a slight feeling your cold heart is getting soft for this witch. You always had a very open heart for lowlife creatures, I mean look at that crow you decided to pick up from the streets!"

Wheat took a step back, tightened his fists, and almost bled from how hard he bit his lip at the sound of this sentence.

"I could say the same thing about you and Thurston Nevil! What a pity, wasn't it? That you, the great Ortygious would let that man slip up from within your grasp! Maybe you can't move on from your friendship? Or is this a baseless accusation on my part?"

One thing Wheat knew how to do better than murder, was reading people. Ortygious may be a powerful mage, but he is still a human. Human feelings are a toy in the hands of Vampires and especially ones who feed off of Witche's blood.

"Running your mouth is a very strong suit of yours but acting snarky with me? That will get you nowhere."

"So you wasted my time for nothing? You just wanted to scold me for not updating you about the witch?"

"Wheat. You are still within your dream, no time passed in the real world so your time was hardly wasted. Mine, on the other hand, was squandered because you failed to give me a definite answer. Luckily for you, I have things to attend to. Be prepared to fill me in in length, next time. I won't be as accommodating as I was today, that I can assure you."

Ortygious was always the man to give no reason or rhyme as to why he was doing certain things, his words were either too many or too few and you never knew what side of him you would get.

Wheat sighed one last time before the witchcraft had withered away and he was once again left sleeping next to Rax, close to the cave the witch and the dragon were staying. He stood up and looked at the starry sky.

The cold weather made him look even paler but the hue his face had right now was closer to a blue, the color of ice. Wheat always looked more magnificent when he would visit his northern cousins, but they would still mock him for his golden hair and "silly trinkets" he loved to adorn his hair with.

He always thought taking an extra step to look handsome, especially when you wanted to yield someone to do your bidding, was appropriate and very much understood by fellow Vampires. But the northerners were old and kept their traditions close.

 They believed a Vampire is born perfect. Their biggest power is knowledge and understanding of the way of the bloodlines. But Wheat always broke that mold and he did as he pleased. No questions asked.

And that fact made him realize, he was nowhere close to losing his touch, he would never be able to turn soft on these two. He was too stoic and level-headed to act like he even remotely cared about a witch and a dragon mutt.

One thing was for certain, this inner train of thought, he would do anything and everything to keep it a secret from Rax. That bird would mock him to the night's end and he would simply not have it turn out this way.