(POV Vlad)
Waking up to a kick in the stomach, I barely kept myself from falling off my cot. Without even needing to open my eyes I knew who the perpetrator was. Low and behold a grating voice sneered at me,
"Oi, mudblood. You know the drill, get your ass up."
9 years. Thats how long I'd been in the Fire Nation. The past two of which had been full of nothing but abuse, hidden under the guise of 'training'. According to my daily tormentors, prince Ozai had ordered to have me undergo a vigorous regiment, of which he'd directly supervise. Of course, busy person the prince was, we only had a select window of time every day. As such, it was not in my best interest to keep him waiting or waste his time.
Call me what you like, the mudblood, the bastard...the fact remained that I delivered results. Try as they might, those who actively attempted to discourage and ridicule me couldn't deny that. Funny enough, I think even they began to respect and anticipate what else I had in store. Although, no one did more than the prince himself.
When I'd turned 5, I was made aware of not only my status within the clan, but my responsibilities. It may not have been a shock that I was on one of the lowest rungs of society, however, it was definitely upsetting knowing that I was nothing more than a glorified slave.
That is, until I received a night visit from one of prince Ozais personal guards. Escorting me through a series of hidden tunnels that ran throughout the interior of the palace walls, I found myself in my first ever private audience with the prince. Inside what could only be described as an underground arena, braziers roared to life, turning the room into an oversized oven.
"Child, I trust you know who I am." Sitting cross legged, a silhouette could be seen from behind some red and gold curtains.
"Of course, prince Ozai, you're the one who saved me." I stated simply, while taking in my surroundings with bright eyes.
While I'd taken my words at face value, it seemed the prince had done anything but. I heard a low chuckle leave his mouth, before he exhaled a plume of flame, that burned his curtains down.
"Indeed, the one who 'saved' you. Do you know what a life debt is boy? If so, I'm sure you understand that one needs to be repaid. How would you like a chance to repay that debt, as well as gain a little something for yourself in return?"
Seeing the flames die out the instant the curtain had been completely turned to ash, my eyes couldn't help but sparkle. Not only at the display of power, but control. I'd heard that Firebending was a chaotic element, fire was hard to control, it sought to devour, to consume, to destroy. Yet here he was commanding it.
"With all due respect, how could someone like me repay you?" Scratching my head awkwardly, I couldn't help but wonder what I was doing here. "Ah, please don't sell yourself short boy. You may not know it, but you're something special. I want to pull what slumbers within you to the surface, and then begin to polish it."
Slowly rising to his feet, Ozai stepped down from his makeshift throne, before beginning to circle me slowly.
"Do you know the most difficult part of being a prince? Finding people who are loyal to you, and only you. This may be the Fire Nation, and you may be one of its citizens, however, the Fire Lord is not your first priority...I am. You understand right? I mean, if it were up to Azulon, you would have been killed or cast out to fend for yourself. I fought tooth and nail to keep you within the palace walls, under my protection all this time."
"O-Of course. Again, I'm extremely grateful. If all you want is my loyalty, you've got it. No ifs and or buts, I just don't think that quite balances the scales." Sweat began to pool around me as he circled me like a shark, his body appearing to emit a constant stream of heat.
"Ah, but loyalty is more than just a word. More than just an agreement. It's a promise, its action, its proof, it's an effort, it's service. I don't want your loyalty, I need it. I need your promise here and now, that if I waste my time and effort forging you into the best warrior you can be, that you'll become a sword for me to wield. That you won't turn on your master." Never once breaking his gaze, those burning yellow eyes of his seemed to peer into my very soul.
I felt as if before a living breathing dragon, a being beyond my comprehension with the ability to snuff my life out at any given moment. I knew there were some things I wasn't entirely understanding, and that this conversation was something above me. That my decision here would shape my future, and that I'd have to live with the results.
Any possible reservations I had were steadily turned to ash by the prospect of power, the chance to be something- No, someone more.
"Uh, I'm not really sure if I'm supposed to kneel, or how this goes...but I-I promise. Um, to not squander the opportunity you've presented me, nor turn a blade against you."
Abruptly halting his footsteps, Ozai revealed a small smirk that sent chills down my spine. How genuine joy could appear so sinister was lost to me, the fire in his eyes illuded to the destruction that he sought to bring about. I could only imagine what plans he had in store. Young and naive I may be, but even I could tell there were things happening in the background, that his need for loyal people wasn't a coincidence.
"That'll have to do for now. Well then, let's begin." With a wave of his hand, a multitude of shadows descended upon me. "These will be your instructors. I'll stop by to supervise, and review your progress every now and then, but for the most part they know what must be done. Until your secrets have been revealed, they'll be focusing on your physical training."
Turning his back to me, one of the red garbed individuals began to approach. Backing up nervously, I couldn't help but glance at Ozais rapidly retreating form. As if sensing that, he spoke up,
"There's no turning back now. Endure and improve or give up and die."
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Hell on earth. That's how I'd describe my training regimen. For the first year all I did was physical conditioning. According to my instructors, they needed to break and rebuild not only my body, but my mind. Putting it through extremes and forcing it to break through self-induced limits.
I broke alright. Over and over again. Funnily enough, regardless of what torture I went through, after a good night's rest I was back on my feet as if nothing had happened the next day. Sadly, this only incensed my drill sergeants to increase the training intensity. Like it or not, the results were visible for all to see, for within that year I was deemed ready to begin actual instruction. Combat instruction.
Other than who I'd learned to be 'Imperial Firebenders', Ozai called in a special advisor for me. A large bald man with pale skin, his most defining features being the third eye painted on his forehead. He was rather off-handedly introduced as the Tri-clops.
Known for his discrepancy, cruelty and ability, Ozai hoped he'd be able to hammer a necessary skillset into me. That skillset? The art of killing. The Imperial firebenders on the other hand would nurture my capacity to provide protection, follow orders, and perform my duties as a ward.
To say the tattooed man more than proved his worth would be an understatement. Seeing as it would be the first session with him, Ozai had opted to supervise. No doubt he was glad he did, for he experienced a show he'd soon not forget.
The pale man didn't speak more than absolutely needed, choosing to let his actions do the talking for him. Approaching me with steady yet slow footsteps, he made his intentions clear. He was about to attack. Much to my dismay, his slow approach did not make him any the less intimidating, or his attacks any easier to read.
I instantly began backpedaling, only for him to propel himself forward with a blast of fire and cut me off. Head swiveling to the side, I watched in slow-motion as a backhand connected with my face sending me sprawling onto the floor.
"You don't run. You dodge, or you fight. Running means death." With a gruff voice, the man admonished my actions, before resuming his slow approach.
My head ringing and vision a blur, I felt something running down my face. Reaching a hand upward, I wiped it across my nose before bringing my hand before my eyes. W-What is that? Is it blood? I was bleeding?
The world seemed to flip as I stared at the pool of red within my palm. Sure I'd been slapped and smacked around. Gotten bludgeoned and bruised. But had I ever bled? The sound of heavy footsteps entered my ears, only to dissipate as the pounding of my heart drowned it out. As if disconnecting from reality itself I found reality itself twist and warp into a dark shade of red.
Different shades of red fell from the heavens, filled the surroundings like an endless ocean, and engulfed my very being. Looking around, I noticed something strange, something solid, like a wall. Following it upward, I began to tremble in terror. What could only be described as the devil, was before me.
What I'd thought was a wall had merely been a toe. Backing up I found a being larger than comprehension, he put the depictions of dragons to shame. A dragon was akin to a lizard before this. An air of death surrounded the being, black and red in color, horns that seemed to stretch on forever, and a body more resemblant of a demon than human.
The creature sat upon a throne of skulls. While each was of varying sizes, there had to be millions of them if not more...there were definitely more. Chin resting in his hand, I watched as his eyes casually acknowledged my presence.
"I see you've finally awakened. For all those lost. For all those forgotten. For all those ostracized. For all those abandoned. Young disciple, I grant you authority over what is yours, and that which has been discarded. In the name of Khorne, spill blood!"
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(POV Ozai)
"Blood for the blood god." Head hanging low, the boy whispered something to himself.
Footsteps stopping just before the kneeling boy, the assassin prepared to begin his assault once more. This time delivering a slow yet heavy kick straight toward his face. It seemed he intended to beat some fundamentals into Vlad before actually working on technique, and as long as he didn't kill him, I'd allow it.
Preparing myself for the beating to come, I couldn't help but raise my eyebrows in surprise as the boy's head snapped up. A welcome sense of dread, and excitement filled me when I saw a familiar light in his eyes. With a deep red glow permeating them, an instant before the assassin's foot connected with his head a gust of chilling air exploded outward.
Momentarily all braziers in the surroundings were snuffed out, leaving all in attendance stranded in darkness. Waving my hand, I quickly reignited them, as they roared to life one by one an interesting scene was revealed. Layer after layer of frost covered the area, the mercenary himself turned into an ice sculpture eyeing Vlad with a bit of apprehension.
With a sneer his forehead glowed for a second, before the ice encasing him shattered. Pelted from all sides by frozen shards, the boy brushed them off casually, the blood that flowed from his body seeming to gather around him like a shield.
"I choose to fight." Taking to his feet, Vlad brought his hands up in a defensive stance, those eyes of his bringing an eerie intensity to the atmosphere.
"Very well." Was his only response before the three-eyed man darted forward.
Intrigued on just what the child had in mind; I was caught off guard when the blood pooled at his feet caught fire. So was the assassin as he narrowly dodged the wave of bleeding fire sent his way, before sending a spinning kick into the boy's side.
Inexperienced as he was, the attack struck true and sent him rolling across the room, before skidding to a halt. Struggling to stand up once more, he extended a hand and the blood that cascaded down his arm caught fire and began transforming into a weapon of sorts. Resembling an overgrown spear of flame, the boy chucked it at his assailant in what appeared to be a desperate attempt.
Easily dodging the slow and borderline inaccurate throw, the three-eyed man exploded forward once more, looking to end this bout. That is, until the spear of fire that sailed past him abruptly changed direction mid-air. Seeing Vlad's beckoning hand caused the assassin to quickly spin passed the oncoming projectile.
While I'd expected to see disappointment on the boy's face for failing to land his attack once more, he instead closed his fist, and the spear suddenly exploded into a multitude of small blood-red needles that began to pepper the Tri-clops. Finally facing an attack he was incapable of dodging, the merc took quite a few nicks before releasing a wall of fire in front of him that either dissipated or scattered the remaining blast.
Eyes narrowing, I saw a just as surprised and confused expression on the face of the assassin. For when the flames had encompassed and peppered his body, they hadn't burnt it, instead they had caused him to bleed uncontrollably. As if his flames were physical and sharp, the explosion had left small holes in his body that still showed signs of bleeding.
Dust settling as both combatants eyed each other, I couldn't help but applaud.
"Well done, well done indeed. Not only are you a Bloodbender, but an anomaly among them. A Bloodbender who burns his own blood, how intriguing. Though, I have to ask you're looking a bit pale at the moment, is the blood loss going to kill you?"
Narrowing my eyes, I couldn't help but begin to doubt the efficiency of such an ability. Remaining silent for a moment, Vlad seemed to contemplate something before, moving his finger in a beckoning motion. The moment he did so, the small droplets of blood that began to fall from the three-eyed man's body quickly gathered into a ball and shot toward him.
Toward his mouth specifically. Before our very eyes he consumed the mercs blood, and his wounds began to close themselves, some scarring over while most healed completely. The color returned to his face, as well as his sense of balance, and with a gleeful smile he gave me a thumbs up.
"All better!"
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(POV Vlad)
An anomaly Ozai had called me. Maybe he was right, he told me a bit about Bloodbenders and their abilities. In my opinion their powers sounded way more interesting than mine, aside from the strange rules and limitations they had. According to him, however, my abilities had far greater potential, with a substantial supply of blood I could theoretically fight forever.
In his mind that made me an ideal warrior...or killer. Whether it was I or my opponent who bled, my enemies would be doomed either way. The more we bled the more I could do, and the more they did, the less they could. All this aside, Ozai remained adamant that there was more yet to be learned and understood about my capabilities.
For the time being, it was my responsibility to hone the basics until these abilities revealed themselves. As for my instructors? Well, if they hated me before, now they were wary of me. Bloodbenders already seemed to have a bad reputation, and the fact that I actively needed to consume blood had certainly not done me any favors.
From then on, each of my training sessions included a couple of thralls who'd ensure that I didn't faint or die due to blood loss. They'd not only been sworn to secrecy but prohibited from leaving the underground arena. While I was unsure what Ozai had told them, they were clearly not expecting the blood drinking monster to be a bright-eyed little boy.
Like this, my tutelage continued. While extremely interested in my bending abilities, my masters insisted on improving my actual combat abilities as well. According to them, bending wasn't meant to be a crutch, but an extension of my body. If my body and mind weren't honed, then my bending would not only fall short but prove useless.
While the Imperial Firebenders excelled at defense and group attacks, three-eyed instructor was a force of destruction. Somehow, he managed to combine both precision and utter calamity. One prepared me for the conventional and one for the unconventional.
If there was one thing I'd taken away, it was that other than the basics, I could only gain so much from a group of Firebenders. Their element was destructive, animalistic, and chaotic. Incorporating their movements into my own, to a certain degree was damaging, and they were aware of this. Thankfully I was actively encouraged to find my own way, whilst still drilling the basics into my skull. i.e. Knowing how to throw a punch, read an attack, anticipate what would happen next, and understand how to respond.
During all this Ozai, had taken a more active role in my development. Whether it was just observing or actively advising me, he had clearly become invested in not only my future, but his own. I could almost see the gears turning in his head as he watched me while stroking his chin in thought.
Other than my 'awakening', the proudest I'd seen him was when I'd been forced to kill my first man. Some Imperial Firebenders had brought in what they'd called 'prisoners of war' and Ozai explained that they were due for execution. What he'd failed to mention was that I would be their executioner.
One thing I'd noticed after gaining my bending, was that I felt immensely comfortable around blood. I could see it, feel it, smell it, taste it, and hear it rushing through the bodies around me at all times. Yet, I couldn't control theirs. It was strange, like it was just out of reach. Like a door was shut and locked, as long as it remained inside their body.
But the moment someone began to bleed, all bets were off. If a singular drop of blood left their body, it was no longer theirs. It was mine. This almost warped and sinister thought process is the only thing that enabled me to complete Ozais request.
I remember staring at the three men kneeling before me, begging and pleading for their lives. I remember the hesitation, the fear, the internal struggle...and I remember the whisper in the back of my mind.
"I grant you authority over what is yours, and that which has been discarded. Spill blood!"
As if in a trance, I had slowly approached them and merely pricked their fingers one by one. The second that drop of blood entered my sight, any and all resistance within me was gone. Their lives were no longer their own, their blood was no longer their own, it was mine.
"Blood for the blood god." With five simple words, I formed three spears of burning blood and skewered them on end.
Ozai had said, "Loyalty is in action." and I'd proved that day that my promise was not to be taken lightly. From then on, his personality had changed from interest, to almost amicability.
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(POV Ozai)
Seeing that his opponents were beginning to use their bending, Vlad didn't hesitate either. Unlike customary blood and fire-benders, he couldn't control fire or water at all. Despite this apparent handicap, he was capable of freezing the very air itself. At any point in time, he could drop the temperatures in his surroundings, to a terrifyingly precise degree.
An example being his ability to leap in the air, freeze it to create a solid foothold for himself, and then push off of it. Essentially stepping on air itself. It was something otherwise completely outside of not only my, but a typical Waterbenders imagination. According to him, he had another idea or two he was attempting to bring to life.
His unconventional bending was beautifully complimented by his equally unconventional thought process. Day after day of training he revealed more about his understanding. Each discovery managing to be more interesting than the last.
First and foremost, with the consumption of blood it was somehow permanently increasing his own blood supply. The longer he could bleed, the longer he could bend without having to heal, or resupply. That discovery had solidified it, Vlad was a creature made for war.
Secondly, and arguably just as baffling, he could overclock his heart's blood output. In simple terms, force his heart to beat and pump blood at a frightening rate. The result being a drastic and inhuman increase in all his physical capabilities.
Doing this seemed to be something he was only willing to use as a last resort. The damage it did to his body and the amount of blood he needed to consume in order to heal afterwards was a major drawback. Theoretically, with enough blood consumption, I believe we can increase his total blood supply to a degree that he'd be able to use the ability without issue, passively. Though, that was a matter for the future.
Seeing as it had been four years since his training begun, I decided it was time he be introduced to the family. Afterall, "officially" he was to be my children's attendant for the time being.