A cold wind blows past him, and the fire glow in the room vanishes, leaving the room in an inky darkness. Cold wind— how—
Vax's head whips back to where the fire was, where now there is only embers and smoke, and dread falls over him like someone poured ice cold water down his back, as he suddenly realises he is no longer alone.
A blinding flash of fire, and his arms go up instinctively to protect his face as he turns around to face whoever's there, feeling the weight of their close physical presence behind him.
The Briarwoods, as Percy had referred to them— Sylas and Delilah he thinks— advance towards him with cold, arrogant smirks on their faces. Shit. He starts walking backwards.
His mind helpfully steps in, calm down, get talking— and he hears himself attempt to talk his way out of the hole he just dug himself. These are not regular people, they have magic apparently, which makes this situation an especially shit one since that's one of Vax's weaknesses. He has to tread carefully.
Vax feels the back of his shoulders hit the fireplace's mantle, feels the heat of the fire dangerously close to him.
Nowhere left to go.
His hand grabs thin air when he goes to place it on a dagger hilt at his side, shit, right— A bead of sweat drips down his forehead, betraying his nervousness, if the loud drum of his heart in his chest hasn't yet. The weight of the book in his jacket feels heavier now, realizing that if they find out he has it, he's fucked... more fucked. And not in the good way.
Gosh, they are hot though, shame they seem to want his head— and no, not like that unfortunately. He almost snorts out loud to himself. Vax tries that angle anyway, knowing that he's young and attractive, and that he can be a charmer if he tries, hoping to manipulate them or catch them off guard. Maybe this can be resolved with the promise of something mutually beneficial, and distracting—
But it's not working, they're not buying any of his stories or veiled offers, their faces remaining stoic as they continue to move towards him. Shit shit shit shit, I have to get out of here. He doesn't want to find out what they'll do if they get close enough.
Fuck it.
He decides to suddenly run full tilt between them, hoping to take them by surprise and push them aside to get to the door, but the taller man feels like a stone wall when Vax's shoulder clips his, and he gets pushed back, and before he can even think, his wrists are clamped between the man's hands in a vice grip.
His stomach sinks, fear landing there like a leaden weight, as he looks up into the man's eyes and the red brown in them dissolves to an unnaturally glowing gold, and he feels all his limbs freeze, and his breath halts in his chest.
Oh, fuck— no, no—
Vax fights it, he really tries, but his limbs won't fucking listen. His heart pounds faster, and he can hear the rushing of his blood in his ears, as the reality of what's happening, of how alone he is, sets in.
No one knows he's here, or that he's in danger. He should have started yelling, "Chenga!" at the top of his lungs the second they'd found him.
Okay, okay— you've been in worse shape before and gotten away. Focus, Vax'ildan.
There's nothing else he can do; he's got to keep pushing against the magic with every inch of his being. It has to give way at some point.
Delilah, the woman, has languidly reclined on the bed in front of him, watching her husband's every move with keen eyes, seemingly entertained. Sylas makes his way around and situates himself behind him, leaning in to press against his back slowly, and Vax feels his body shudder at the proximity. Fingers come up to lightly stroke his cheek as Sylas' silken growl of a voice sounds in his ear.
"You're a curious one."
An inhumanly strong grip bolts onto his shoulder— that will definitely bruise later— and Sylas' other arm comes up and around his front to hold his face with a large, shockingly frigid hand, pointed nails digging into his cheeks, almost piercing skin.
Unable to move away from the unwanted contact, Vax feels himself retreat internally as his body is held between what feels like cold, immovable steel, caught like a fly in a spider's web, and he feels sick to his stomach.
No, no, no, no. He pushes harder, hearing his breath hitch in his throat as he tries to scream.
No sound comes out.
He feels the man's tepid breath against his ear as he leans in closer and brushes his jaw against his, and his hair stands on end as a shiver arcs down his spine.
"And you look delicious."
A sharp, deep pain shoots along his nerves like a burning bullet, and he gasps as his body jumpstarts, the shock waking his limbs up, and he pushes away from Sylas' hold, momentum from his struggles launching him forward. Something that feels like a jagged knife gets wrenched out of his skin, pulling sickeningly, and he groans, feeling the gush of hot blood pump out fast as a wave of dizziness hits him like a slap to the face. He stumbles and rolls away, frantically putting as much distance as he can between them.
Get up, get up, GET UP—
Vax lifts his head from the ground, trying to ignore the throbbing in his temples, his limbs heavy, weak. They shake under him as he pushes up with all the strength left in his body, willing himself to stand despite the vertigo that's making the floor pitch beneath him.
He presses his hand hard in the dip of his neck as he rises, feeling nauseous as his fingers slip against the thick blood gathered there. In very few seconds, it's already soaked through his shirt and coat, the hot sticky liquid adhering the cloth to his skin.
His breath comes in pained, shaky gasps as he looks up at his assailants, and he tries to stay upright, black and white spots dancing across his blurry vision. Vax finds them both staring back with icy smiles, and Sylas— licks his lips of blood? Wait, no— the knife he felt was teeth?? He bit him??
They're— they're vampires.
Fuck. Must be his lucky day.
He tries to settle down and focus on what he needs to do. It's alright, it doesn't matter, he knows what they are, knows now that he can kill them if he gets the chance since they're not people, and he's gotten away from them for now. Next, he needs to get out of here. It's fine, it's fine, I can do this. I have to.
"Come now. Let's get this over with." Sylas says in a velvety, dangerous tone as they both inch towards him, like a pair of cats stalking their meal for the night.
He's cornered.
Vax mentally catalogues all the entrances and exits in the room, deciding that the best and only option is the window behind him.
Closing his eyes for a moment before he jumps, he prays very hard for Vex, or any of his friends, to burst into the room and shoot these fuckers in the back, fill them with arrows and bullets, and get him the hell out of there.
When he opens his eyes, the door is still shut, and the room still silent except for the crackle of the fire, the Briarwoods' ominous footsteps, and his loud, shuddering breaths.
It's fine— he'll yell out for them as soon as he's outside. Got to go. NOW.
Vax turns and braces his arms around his bowed head as he runs at the window. The glass shatters on impact, shards cutting into him as he jumps through.
It's too late when he realizes there's no time to swing or land on the flagpole in his way, and he crashes into it, falling with its wreckage to the shallow fountain pool below. The two quick impacts shake his bones, knocking the breath from him, and his body is wracked with pain as he lands with a big splash. He definitely heard the ribs in his side crack, and his head got a nice, solid bump on the way down too.
Water drips off him as he lifts his aching body up from the water, coughing as his lungs try desperately to fill with air after seizing, blood splattering onto the surface of the water, and he groans as his broken ribs twinge with the force of it.
Ow. Shit.
In his periphery, a dark figure lands heavily with a thud in front of him, and another materializes in a cloud of violet smoke behind, and as he raises his eyes to look at them, he blacks out for an instant, feels himself collapse like his strings were cut, limbs going out from under him.
He doesn't have the strength to yell, everything hurts— he can't think— he can't breathe—
Fucking hell— come on, you can't die here—
He channels everything he has into waking the fuck up— even if he's going to die, it is not going to be on his knees, he thinks spitefully. Forcing himself to blink awake with a frustrated grunt, he shifts and starts to drag his tired body through the water, slowly, too slowly, pulling away from Sylas as he menacingly stalks towards him. He fumbles, his heart going a mile a minute, head dizzy and aching, blood still flowing from his neck wound as he tamps down on it.
Vax spots a large piece of broken glass in his path, underwater, and cheers in his head, feeling a spark of hope, relieved to have something to fight back with. He turns back towards Sylas, who looms tall over him now and he glares him down as he tries to subtly place a shaking hand on the glass shard behind him.
Vax hesitates for a moment, fear chilling him to the bone as his eyes meet the vampire's, but there's no time — come on, NOW!!
With a desperate yell, he launches himself at Sylas, gripping the glass, and it sinks into the soft flesh of his palm and fingers— but he doesn't give a shit right now, he needs to live, he needs to live — and he swings it in a wide arc, once and misses, twice and misses—
Claws rake up against his torso as Sylas dodges then lunges in for the kill, slicing his chest open, and he yells in agony as his body erupts in pain, and it's blinding— it goes dark again, and his legs fold.
The breaths he tries to gasp in are squeezed from him before he even manages one, jolting him awake once more, as the man in front of him grips his throat in a crushing chokehold, and lifts him up like he weighs nothing.
No… no… It wasn't supposed to turn out like this...
He says something, but Vax can't hear it, his ears ringing too loudly, disoriented, his mind completely blank. As he gazes down blearily at the yellow piercing eyes and the knife-sharp fanged sneer, his vision blots out again, and his arms fall, useless, to his sides.
The screeching call of a hawk high up in the sky behind him, so far away, breaks through the haze a little—
Keyleth…?
He vaguely registers his body moving through the air and landing in water again, but he doesn't feel any pain anymore. Doesn't feel anything anymore.
Red ebbs in, and his vision fades, probably for good this time.
He thinks he sees fuzzy, colored shapes of people running up in the distance.
Maybe it's them—
He wishes— he wishes so badly that he could have told them how much he loves them, before he goes, how much they mean to him, even if some of them drive him mad sometimes; they're his family. They're all he has really— and he's never going to see them again.
Keyleth… he didn't even tell her—
And Vex… he's leaving his dear sister on her own, even though he promised— his heart aches, knowing how deeply the loss of their mother had wounded her, knowing how his loss might break her. He hopes they can take care of her for him—
Bitter tears fall across his face, as he shuts his eyes for the last time.
So tired…
Feels like he's been fighting for an age, but at least he gets to rest now...
It all fades to black.