Ascension Of The Villain

Vyan led Eryndor into the dimly lit room where Aster sat. The walls were lined with thick curtains that barely let the sunlight seep through, casting the space in a somber hue.

Aster's figure was hunched in a chair near the window, his once-powerful and confident aura now frail and diminished. His red hair, though long and unkempt, glimmered faintly in the muted light.

Master Jin sat cross-legged beside Aster as his gnarled hands worked methodically to prepare the thin acupuncture needles.

"Do not speak abruptly," Jin said, his deep voice reverberating softly through the room. "Let him feel the presence before you demand anything."

Eryndor stepped forward slowly, his usual authoritative air subdued. For once, his presence wasn't commanding but tentative. His eyes softened as they fell on Aster, tracing the lines of the face he hadn't seen in sixteen years. His hand instinctively reached out before curling into a fist, uncertain.

"Aster…" The name came out quietly, almost a whisper.

Aster didn't respond immediately. His gaze was distant, his wine-red eyes dull and unfocused. But after a moment, his head tilted slightly in Eryndor's direction, as if acknowledging the sound.

Vyan leaned against the far wall, arms crossed, watching the exchange like a hawk. He felt a slight bubble of jealousy within him—at the way Aster acknowledged Eryndor, but not usually Vyan, because in his mind, Vee was still five-year-old and that image didn't match the current Vyan. Fortunately for Eryndor, he looked almost the same as sixteen years ago.

"You asked for this," Vyan said flatly, his tone sharp but not loud. "Don't overwhelm him."

Eryndor shot him a glance but didn't respond. Instead, he lowered himself to one knee beside Aster's chair. "Aster," he said again, more firmly this time. "It's me. Your grandfather."

Aster blinked slowly, his lips parting slightly, but he didn't speak. His fingers twitched on the armrest, a faint sign of life that made Eryndor's throat tighten.

Master Jin looked up from his preparations. "He recognizes you, but his mind is fragile. Do not press him. Let the connection come naturally."

Eryndor nodded stiffly and stayed where he was. "I am sorry," he said quietly. The words were a foreign language in his mouth, but he said them all the same. "For everything."

Vyan scoffed, the sound bitter. "A little late for that, don't you think?"

Eryndor turned his head toward Vyan. "I know my failings, Vyan. But this is not about me—or you. It's about him. And I will do whatever it takes to help him heal."

For a moment, Vyan didn't respond, his wine-red eyes flickering between Eryndor and Aster. Finally, he exhaled sharply and uncrossed his arms. "Then listen to Master Jin and don't make this harder for him."

Jin nodded approvingly before addressing them both. "Lord Aster's condition is severe, but not hopeless. His body is resilient, even if his mind has endured great trauma. With consistent treatment and care, I can gradually restore some balance. But this will take time. Years, perhaps."

Vyan's hands clenched at his sides. "Years?"

"Do not mistake gradual recovery for stagnation," Jin said firmly. "Every step forward is a victory."

Eryndor's jaw tightened, but his voice was steady when he spoke. "Do whatever you need. Use all the resources of my house, my wealth, and my connections."

"You don't need to help with anything else, as long as I am still alive." Vyan frowned, skepticism etched into his features. "But seriously, you will actually support this? No second thoughts? No… ulterior motives?"

Eryndor turned to him, his stern gaze locking onto Vyan's. "You think I am a monster, and perhaps I deserve that. But Aster is my blood, as are you. I failed you both before. I will not fail now."

The sincerity in Eryndor's tone caught Vyan off guard, and for a moment, he didn't know how to respond. He looked away, his lips pressing into a thin line. "We will see."

Jin placed a hand on Aster's shoulder, his touch firm yet gentle. "We begin now. The first session will center him, help him reconnect to his body. Stay if you wish, but remain silent."

Eryndor settled into a nearby chair, his posture straight but uncharacteristically subdued. Vyan hesitated before moving to stand near the door, arms crossed but silent.

As Jin inserted the first needle into a pressure point on Aster's hand, the faintest flicker of awareness crossed Aster's face. It wasn't much, but to Vyan, it was enough to ignite a fragile ember of hope.

The session continued in tense silence, with Jin working his magic on Aster while Vyan and Eryndor maintained an unspoken truce across the room. The occasional hum from the old master and Aster's faint responses to the treatment were the only sounds.

Vyan's sharp eyes darted between the needles and his brother's face, catching every subtle shift with a mix of guarded hope and skepticism.

When Jin finally finished and stepped back, he wiped his hands on a cloth and gave a satisfied nod. "This is a good start," he declared. "His energy flow is responding well. Continue to keep him in a calm environment. I will return tomorrow for the next session."

Eryndor rose from his chair with his usual rigid demeanor but surprised Vyan by bowing slightly to Jin. "Thank you for your efforts, Master Jin. I will ensure you have everything you need."

Jin's lips twitched into a faint smile as he gathered his things. "What I need is peace and patience from all of you." His sharp gaze flicked to Vyan. "Especially you, young firebrand."

"Me?" Vyan scoffed, feigning offense. "I am the calmest person in this room."

Jin didn't bother to respond, only shaking his head as he exited. Eryndor followed soon after, leaving Vyan alone with Aster.

Clyde entered shortly after, carrying a tray of tea for the two brothers.

"Rough day, Your Grumpiness?" Clyde asked, setting the tray on the small table.

Vyan rolled his eyes, sinking into the nearest chair. "Understatement. Thanks for convincing me to receive the help from Grandfather."

Clyde handed Vyan a cup of tea, then used magic to hold up the cup for Aster who didn't have good control of his limbs. He finally plopped into a chair across from Vyan and replied, "Oh, it was my pleasure. Nothing like reuniting a family."

Vyan snorted, taking a sip. The warm liquid steadied him more than he cared to admit. After a moment of quiet, he shifted his gaze from Aster and glanced at Clyde, his voice softer. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Clyde froze mid-sip, his eyes widening comically. "Wait, wait, wait. Are you actually being nice to me? Is this a fever dream? Should I be concerned?"

Vyan rolled his eyes. "Don't make me regret it."

Clyde leaned forward, a teasing grin on his face. "So, what you are saying is… you don't want to lose me as your aide? Aww, my lord, I knew you cared."

Vyan shot him a flat look. "No, I can afford to lose you as an aide. But I would be completely helpless if you stopped being my friend."

Clyde blinked, clearly taken aback for a moment before his grin softened. "Why would I stop being your friend?"

"I don't know," Vyan muttered, avoiding his gaze. "A lot of things could happen. What if you become too busy as an emperor?"

Clyde let out a bark of laughter that filled the room. "A busy emperor? Me? Please. Like I would ever be too busy for my best friend."

Before Vyan could respond, Clyde lunged forward with open arms, a mock-serious expression on his face. "Come here, my emotionally-stunted friend. Let's hug it out."

Vyan jerked back, swatting him away. "Get off me, Clyde. This tea is hot, and so am I—not in the way you are imagining."

"Fine, fine," Clyde sighed dramatically, flopping back into his chair. "Go ahead and reject my hug. But mark my words, my lord. One day, you will cry to hug me."

Vyan snorted, his lips quirking into the faintest smile. "Not in this lifetime."

Clyde winked, raising his teacup in mock toast. "We will see, my friend. We will see."

———

The morning sun spilled through the curtains, too bright for Vyan's taste. He groaned as Benedict stood at his bedside, the butler's face as impassive as ever.

"It is half past ten, Master," Benedict said. "You should wake up by now. You have to get to your sword training."

Vyan sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, his hair sticking out in several directions. "Where is Clyde?" he muttered groggily.

"He hasn't arrived yet," Benedict replied evenly, setting a tray of tea and light breakfast on the side table.

Vyan frowned, a flicker of concern flashing in his wine-red eyes. Clyde was many things—annoying, overly dramatic, prone to excessive chatter—but unreliable wasn't one of them.

For as long as Vyan had known him, Clyde had never failed to show up in the morning, unless he was explicitly given time off.

"I swear to Goddess," Vyan grumbled, pushing off the covers. "If he ran off on some vacation at a time like this—"

A soft chime interrupted him. Vyan's magical letter exchange artifact, a small crystalline device that pulsed with a faint golden glow, sat on the desk.

He strode over, still just dressed in his bottom pajamas, and picked it up. The artifact warmed in his palm, projecting a faintly glowing message from Althea. Vyan furrowed his brow, reading aloud.

"Vyan, have you heard anything from Clyde since last night? We were supposed to have breakfast together, but there has been no news of him yet. He is not responding to my messages, either. I am a little worried. Did you send him off on some urgent business or something like that? If so, please let me know."

As Vyan read over Althea's letter again, a strange unease settled deep in his chest.

His fingers tightened around the artifact, and he stared at the glowing message as if willing it to provide more answers. Clyde's absence wasn't just unusual—it was wrong.

A pit formed in his stomach, heavy and cold.

He replayed his last interaction with Clyde, the teasing laughter, the sarcastic remarks, the way he had brushed off Clyde's attempt to hug him.

It was all so ordinary, so normal. But now, the silence screamed louder than anything.

"Shit, where the fuck is Clyde?"