Chapter Text
Past all the snow, hidden deep within the mountains, were ruins. Bricks that once formed a temple lay broken, dilapidated. However, deeper still, there was a shrine with no roof, as big as a plaza, and in front of that shrine were soldiers.
Ordinary people, with swords and guns, dressed in armour that clanked with every move. Vash wasn’t expecting them, and nearly fell over trying to hide back round the corner. Wolfwood was large, however, and didn’t have the luxury of being swift footed. But it didn’t seem like he cared; he bared his fangs in a snarl when he saw the soldiers waiting for them.
“Wolfwood, wait!” Vash hissed, but it was too late. The soldiers drew their weapons, prepared to fight this so-called terrible beast, even though Wolfwood hadn’t begun his advance.They had to know they had no chance against a dragon, but that didn’t matter.
Wolfwood didn’t spare him a glance. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna try and be peaceful with these guys too, dummy.” Vash pursed his lips, as that was exactly what he was going to try to do. But before he could tell Wolfwood as such, one of the soldiers spoke, loud in the open space.
“That’s Lord Knives’ brother! Traitor of the church!”
A murmur broke out among the crowd of soldiers. Knives? Did Nai change his name in the year they had parted? Vash wouldn’t say that was completely unexpected, but he still found it odd. What gave him pause however, was the crazed look within the soldiers’ eyes; he could see a red gleam from through the slit, not a crimson glare like his flower, but striking enough. It wasn’t natural, but what in this world was anymore?
“Sounds like you're quite popular, blondie.” Wolfwood quipped, shifting his weight from one clawed foot to the other, readying for a fight as he flexed his paws. Vash in turn, grabbed his pistol from his holster, not aiming quite yet, but prepared just in case. He truly did not want to fight these soldiers - especially because he could see children barely older than 15 among them - but what other choice did he have? If he turned back now, returned to running away, then the world…
“Prepare yourselves men! Spare these demons no mercy!”
Peaceful discussion was clearly out of the equation, so all Vash could do now was wait for whoever to make the first move. And he didn’t have to wait long, because Wolfwood had decided he had been patient enough. A growl was all the warning Vash got before the dragon unleashed a fiery vortex from his maw towards the soldiers. The Intoner flinched, holding his hand up to his face in an attempt to protect himself from the searing heat.
“Wolfwood, don’t kill them!” He wasn’t sure if the dragon heard him, above the agonised screams and burnt flesh that seemed so thick even in the open air. Feeling the heat die down, he looked to the soldiers once more; Vash could make out writhing silhouettes through the black smoke, harsh coughs and cries for their mother. It was all too much. Feeling his breaths come in quick succession, he darted his gaze away, sweat rolled down his back despite the freezing wind and something cracked inside. The flower hummed, pleased, rising in volume as the screams quietened. Vash’s head hurt, and the world turned black as he scrunched his one eye shut to block out everything, as the bodies piled up and the weight of guilt on his shoulders grew heavier.
He never wanted this.
“Oi, spikey.” Vash didn’t know how much time had passed, but Wolfwood’s voice was clear through the haze over his mind. The familiar nudge of the dragon’s head on his shoulder made him open his eye, meeting the sordid gaze of a dragon whose power was unrivalled. It was a reminder - Wolfwood was just as powerful as Vash, minus the immortality, to an extent. He couldn’t regenerate, but that didn’t make him any less formidable; his skin was a tough leather that swords would struggle to even dent. He held destructive magic deep within, and wouldn’t hesitate to make use of it.
Wolfwood was stronger than Vash could ever be.
“You didn’t need to kill them. They-they were just people.” Vash’s voice shook. He tried not to be angry, he really did. But it was difficult. Wolfwood didn’t even try to avoid the slaughter, withheld the mercy within bloodied claws. Vash, 99% of the time, could disarm others without bloodshed, and the other 1% he always aimed for the non-vitals - arms, knees, shoulders - places that could incapacitate, maybe even maim, but not kill.
“Oh? And you think your shitty gun would have done anything against armour? A bullet not infused with magic wouldn’t have done shit.” Vash was starting to realise that Wolfwood was right about many things, but he so desperately wanted to prove the cynical beast wrong at least once. Prove to him that this does not end in needless bloodshed.
“I could have tried, at least. Not just… slaughter them outright!” He gestured wildly to the scene he refused to look at, gun still in hand. Wolfwood’s eyes hardened and his tail swished in irritation. “We don’t have that luxury. In case you forgot, Vash,” it was the first time Wolfwood had said his name, and it made his breath stutter. “Your brother is hell-bent on destroying the world. You said you want to stop that, didn’t you? Do you honestly think that’s possible to achieve through words alone?”
No, no, Vash didn’t. He knew that in the end fighting was unavoidable. But that didn’t mean he didn’t want to at least attempt peace first; that’s why last year he found himself in JuLai. It’s why he’s currently missing an arm, and why he has a flower growing in his eye that’s determined not to let him die. Conscripted soldiers deserved an ounce of mercy, Vash thought, especially child ones. They were also victims of his and Nai’s existence, but Wolfwood didn’t see it that way. All he saw was something that blocked his goal.
When Vash didn’t speak, Wolfwood continued with a sigh. “If you’re not serious about this, we can leave right now. We can wait for the world to die at our cabin, if that’s what you really want. Go out peacefully together.” That wasn’t what Vash or Wolfwood wanted; they both knew that, and they both knew that Vash wouldn’t accept that offer. “I am serious about this. More than you know. He’s my brother after all, my responsibility. I can’t let it continue, but some of those soldiers were children. Barely able to hold their weapons, and you didn’t care.”
Wolfwood shook his head, eyes narrowing, a humourless chuckle escaping.“I cared. Of course I fucking cared. Do you think I took pleasure in killing them? I didn’t. It was us or them.”
Vash felt a degree of shame for insinuating that Wolfwood didn’t feel any remorse, but the words just spilled out. He knew that Wolfwood had his own hidden hurts, tucked away behind tattered wings. He was aware of the past that the dragon kept secret, the only evidence that he even had a past scorched on his body. At the end of the day, Wolfwood knew more about Vash than he knew about the dragon.
“I wish there was another way.” Vash’s shoulders slumped, fight gone. “I know that I’ll have to fight Nai, eventually. But, can I not spare the innocents along the way?”
Wolfwood didn’t say anything. He probably didn’t know what to say, but he turned his whole body to face the pile of burnt bodies and darkness beckoning further into the shrine. “Come on, blondie. The first disciple awaits.”
Vash didn’t want to turn, but he didn’t deserve to be ignorant of the harm that he had inadvertently caused. So he swallowed, ignoring how his stomach tightened in sickness, eyes landing on the charred corpses. They were hardly recognisable - a mess of soot and melted metal, mouths opened in silent screams that seemed to echo throughout the open space still. Wolfwood spared them no quarter. Vash could only hope that the deaths were quick.
Holstering his gun back onto his thigh, Vash stepped closer. Wolfwood followed, close at Vash’s heels. When they walked past the bodies, Vash steadily kept his gaze forward, knowing that if he glanced in their direction he would lose any resolve he had gathered. Wolfwood didn’t share the same sentiment, ambling past but committing the scene to memory. Vash had spent a couple of years with his brother, before he saw what damage they were causing with their song. He was usually a silent presence by Nai’s side, a voice of reason that was never addressed. Nai was a harsh ruler of JuLai, aiming to crush any resistance under his heel. If he was particularly offended, he would see to the matter personally. In those years, he had seen death, torture. He had seen innocent blood spilled on white cement, the manic look in Nai’s eyes glinting in sadistic pleasure.
It wasn’t that Vash wasn’t used to the smell of death, of iron blood that overwhelmed the senses, but it never grew any easier to witness. For all those that Nai had killed, he had added their lives to his pyre. Fuel to a fire that would burn brilliantly and cleanse him of his sins. But only when Nai would burn with him - he couldn’t rest until then.
The shrine seemed to grow colder the further they travelled. The open space from before narrowing into a ruined corridor that was lined with ripped tapestries. Vash didn’t know what was the object of worship here long ago, and it struck him as odd that a disciple of Nai’s chose to take refuge here, with soldiers to guard the place no less. Vash also wondered where said disciple was - they must have heard the screams, unless they just didn’t care? That was a thought that made Vash’s blood boil, so he tried not to think too hard on it, lest he lose his composure.
Eventually, the duo came across a pair of brown doors, swinging on the hinges limply. After he shared a look with Wolfwood, Vash pushed them open. They weren’t heavy, the wood practically rotting away and the metal hinges ear splintering whiny. It revealed another open space, without walls and only the cavern overhead providing any protection against the raging blizzard. It seemed this was the other side of the mountain; the jagged teeth of the cave framed the landscape. In the middle, there was an altar without any offerings.
“How long has this place been abandoned?” Vash asked in a murmur, stepping further in. Wolfwood trailed after, looking around the room with caution. “Who knows? Doesn’t matter, anyways. Where’s this so-called disciple?”
“I don’t know…” Vash’s voice trailed off as his eye caught another door, just off to the side and hidden. It was closed, chains keeping it in place. The chains were new, shiny, a complete juxtaposition to the rest of the area. Wolfwood followed his gaze after noticing Vash staring so intently at the door.
Then it happened so fast. A yell, then the sound of magic deactivating, the chains falling away to the floor. The wood of the door splintered, and Vash barely managed to dodge out of the way before a large figure barrelled into him.
Immediately, Wolfwood was raring to go - fire sparking in his belly as he got ready to perform the same action he did earlier with the soldiers. But then, Vash was shouting as he unholstered his gun.
“Wait, Wolfwood! Let me handle it!” Vash was standing from his kneeling position, eyes so honest as he pleaded with the dragon. Wolfwood let the fire within die, unhappy, but willing to let Vash indulge in his silly fantasies, until he would have to step in and save the blonde.
“Fine, but you’re wasting your breath.” Vash shot him a grateful look that caused the dragon to dart his eyes away, focusing on the figure that had its back turned. It had a muscular body, broad back and thick arms. Then it turned, swinging an arm that had a machine gun attached as it faced them. Vash found himself staring into familiar eyes that itched at his brain but he just couldn’t remember where he had seen them. In the arm that wasn’t part machine gun, was an axe, huge and larger than Vash’s entire body, the sharp edge gleamed menacingly. The same red from the soldiers’ was present in his eyes, and the occurrence made Vash pause, though he knew this was no time for speculation.
“Vash… Vash… Vash…” The beast huffed his name, voice so venomous it made the Intoner reel back. And that voice, despite the fact it was much deeper than he remembered, belonged to someone he met long ago. Rollo - a child of JuLai, a follower of the cult of Intoners, though not willingly Vash knew. His mother was adamant that sacrificing a child to him and Nai would bring fortune to her family. Nai didn’t correct her, but Vash did. For once, taking a stance against his dear brother - Rollo would not be given to them. He promised the child he wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him, ruffling his hair as they fed doves in the park.
Then, Vash went against his brother, and disappeared for a year. He couldn’t protect Rollo.
“Rollo?” Wolfwood looked at him and said so much with his silence. Doubt crept onto his features, lips downturned in a grim line. Suddenly Rollo screamed, “Vash!” so deep and guttural, Wolfwood would have flinched if he was a lesser being.
“Nai… infused him with his song?” It felt like a rug slipped out from under Vash’s feet and he swallowed hard. Infusing a human being with an Intoner’s song was incredibly dangerous - if the person wasn’t sound of mind, they would break and become mindless, driven by their most base instinct. Even Vash and Nai were at risk of their minds shattering, more so with the flower that would take over, using their bodies as puppets.
“Fuck, is he crazy? There’s no way that he was ever gonna survive that.” Wolfwood cursed, and Vash was halted from saying more as Rollo roared once again, raising his axe arm and charging right for him. Vash dodge rolled to the side, aiming his gun while Rollo’s back was still turned and pulling the trigger. The bullets lodged themselves into his shoulder, but he didn’t even flinch in pain; just spun on his heel and lifted his machine gun arm to fire at the Intoner.
“Spikey! Your bullets! Infuse them with your magic you idiot!” Wolfwood growled as he watched Vash duck behind the altar for cover. For a mercy, Rollo seemed mostly focused on the Intoner, breathing his name. But Vash was mistaken if he thought Wolfwood was going to stand back and watch him get pummelled into the ground. The dragon flapped his wings, rising slightly above the ground. There wasn’t enough space here for him to fly comfortably, but the open wall would allow him to fire from outside. The blizzard outside had died down, now snow was just falling delicately. Wolfwood wouldn’t have to worry about being inhibited by the weather.
As Wolfwood left through the open wall, Vash finished infusing his bullets, his hand glowing faintly from the magic. Rollo had been shooting the altar the entire time, it was a miracle it hadn’t been completely decimated yet.
Holding his gun close, Vash shouted loudly to be heard above the rain of bullets. “Rollo! I know you’re in there! Come on buddy, I know you can hear me!” He didn’t know, but what else could he say? The gatling of the machine continued, and Vash could feel the altar begin to break. Before it could, however, there was a familiar heat and Vash worried for a moment that Wolfwood had gone back on his promise, but the dragon had aimed for in front of Rollo, barely missing his bare feet. It was an opening that allowed Vash to come out of cover without being shot full of holes. He shot Rollo in the shoulder again, watching the bullets explode with crimson magic on impact.
Rollo stumbled backwards, and Vash took his chance, aiming for his side and letting out another two shots. They wouldn’t kill, Vash was sure of that. “Rollo, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you! I don’t deserve your forgiveness, I know but I’m here to help you now! Let me help, Rollo!”
“Vash! Vash!” Rollo roared, grasping his head with his axe wielding hand, the weapon dangerously close to his head. Outside, Wolfwood hovered, watching the scene intensely. He had chosen to place his faith in Vash, and for a moment, Wolfwood began to think maybe Vash’s way was possible. But not here - Rollo was gone, it would be cruel to keep the beast alive with a shattered mind that was cracked beyond repair.
“That’s it, Rollo. I’m here now,” Vash took a couple of tentative steps towards Rollo, the muzzle of the gun pointed away from him. “You can rest, let me help you.” To Wolfwood’s surprise, Rollo kneeled on the ground as if powering down, head bowed. The dragon was still apprehensive - mercy was misplaced in this world, a fool’s fancy, fleeting and so very dangerous.
“Vash…” Soft, different from his earlier screaming. Vash was now close enough to Rollo to touch him if he wished, but he didn’t, just stood a step away before the bowed beast. “It’s okay, Rollo, I’ll help you.”
And then the blonde turned away to look back at Wolfwood with a smile - relieved, happy even, but pained, because he knew the only way to proceed was to absorb his power. Vash didn’t know if that would kill the man, but if it did, he could at least say he gave the man a painless, dignified death. A hollow comfort, empty, as in the end, this never would have happened if not for Vash and Nai. Rollo could have been a normal child - he should have been. He should have been given that chance. The beast before him was twisted, disfigured in a way that rendered him unrecognisable.
There was no life for the child after this.
“Wolfwood! It’s okay to come down now.” Vash waved his gun arm, beckoning the dragon to enter the cave again. Wolfwood shook his head, but began making his way there all the same. “Now what, spikey? You leave him here for all eternity to stew in some fucked up way of mercy?” Wolfwood asked when his claws touched the cavern ground, dirty white blending in against broken grey.
“No,” Vash shook his head. “I’ll absorb his power, and then-”
“Blondie!”
The pain was so sudden, blinding and burning. He didn’t even hear the swish of the axe as it soared through the air and made contact with his side. He saw Wolfwood’s face pale in horror, his jaw falling open as Vash was knocked to the side, watching the blonde roll before coming to a stop a short ways away from him. Rollo was standing, deathly quiet, blood droplets falling from the axe, and eyes staring at nothing.
Vash writhed on the floor, blood thrumming in his ears as he tried to breathe through the pain. His side was practically hanging loosely by a couple of threads, muscles and sinew connecting to his hip. His gun had dropped out of his hand, laying somewhere on the cold ground. Faintly, he heard Wolfwood’s roar of anger, then fire and the all too familiar smell of burnt flesh reached his nose. He felt bile rush to his throat and he screamed hoarsely, bloodied fingernails grasping the cobblestone below.
“Vash! Vash, come on dipshit, don’t do this to me!” Wolfwood was shouting, above him, and Vash, in a moment of deliriousness, thought it funny that a dragon would plead for him of all people. His thoughts were cut short however, as the weight of the flower in his socket grew heavier, and the pain became so hot he yowled, back arching. The flower was trying to regenerate, he realised, a defence mechanism to ensure his survival. The parasite within him was a blessing and a curse, it seemed.
Eventually, his screaming had died down, because this body was virtually useless - an empty husk without a voice. Another body, just as bloodied but uninjured, emerged from the flower that had grown inside. It was a rebirth; a crude method of keeping the flower’s host alive through hells and high water. Vash pushed himself out of the flower, gasping and flailing to escape, and when he finally did, he collapsed on the ground, as naked as the day he was born. Chest heaving, Vash opened his eyes to stare into the horrified yet concerned gaze of Wolfwood’s, giving a small smile in what he hoped was reassurance.
“I…” Speaking was hard. It seemed that even though this was a new body, the hurts from screaming and being torn asunder had transferred. “I can’t stop now.”
He couldn’t rest until all was said and done, until the flower was expelled and he stopped his brother. Vash had to keep going, face his hardships instead of turning away.
He owed humanity that much, at least.
Wolfwood didn’t speak for a while. He didn’t do much of anything really, shocked still at what he had just witnessed. But then Vash tried sitting up, and he took action, surging his head forward to help the Intoner sit up. “You need clothes, needle-noggin, you’ll catch your death of cold.” Wolfwood realised how inappropriate that sounded, especially after all what transpired, but Vash laughed, shoulders shaking as he used Wolfwood’s head as support to stand.
“I’ll be fine. Intoners don’t get that cold. Besides, I don’t think the flower will let me die of hypothermia.”
Vash swept his gaze around the room, hoping to catch sight of Rollo, but Wolfwood blocked his view, moving his body purposefully. “Is Rollo..?” Vash knew Wolfwood would know what he was asking, and he was correct as the dragon shook his head. “It was the only way, blondie. You know that.” Wolfwood’s voice was solemn, like he truly bore guilt at having things turn out this way. And truthfully, he did. For a stupid moment, he truly believed that Vash would manage to resolve this mercifully. Against his better judgement, he trusted the Intoner to grant Rollo a peaceful end, but it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough - Vash had to understand that by now. This world has no time for heroes who played God.
Vash’s eyes clouded over with pain, and Wolfwood worried for a moment that the Intoner would suffer from a mind break similar to Rollo’s, but he just stood there, lips pursed so tightly together they turned white. His hands balled into fists at his side, nails digging into palms.
Wait, hands?
That caught Wolfwood’s eye, an electric blue mechanical piece was attached to the Intoner’s arm. “Oi, your arm,” Vash looked down at his flesh one, raising a brow in question. “Your other arm.” Vash blinked, then looked down, eyes as wide as saucers as he took in the prosthetic. He flexed his fingers, watching in amazement as the piece of metal functioned exactly how an arm would.
“Did the flower do this?” He wondered aloud, twisting and turning the fake limb. It wouldn’t be too far-fetched to believe that the flower saw his missing arm as a liability, and while it couldn’t regenerate the limb proper, it could create a mockery of one, equipped with finger nails and all.
“Come on, there’ll be time for speculation later.” Wolfwood said, drawing Vash’s attention away from his arm. “Hop on, blondie. Not every day I get a naked human to ride me.” Vash didn’t know if dragons could smirk, but he imagined Wolfwood was doing just that as he climbed onto his back, legs framing the dragon’s neck.
“Is that your attempt at flirting?” Vash questioned, leaning forward and wrapping his arms around the beast loosely. “Because it was horrible, if so.” The innuendo was not lost on him, and he could feel his cheeks heat slightly, but he willed it down.
“Oh really?” He dragged the word “really,” quirking a brow as he took flight, exiting through the hole in the cave. Vash glanced back at Rollo’s body, feeling sick to his stomach as he caught sight of the charred remains. Wolfwood suddenly dipped in flight, jostling the Intoner. “Eyes forward, Vash. Come on.”
Vash nodded, looking ahead to the horizon. Eyes forward, straight ahead. No more looking back. This was the point of no return - he has practically declared war on his brother by killing his soldiers and one of his disciples. Who knows what awaited them beyond the clouds and smoke? But, Vash knew that even as the flower sang and his mind slipped away, Wolfwood would be there.
And Wolfwood’s presence was the only pleasure he would allow himself to indulge in. Together, they would end this.
For what other choice did they have?