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How many years had it been? Vladimir had lost track, not that he was interested in remembering. It had been over 1000 years since the accursed day, and he had seen much of Valoran’s changes in that period. An arbitrary day like this was of no importance to him. He had lived so many different lives, so why would it matter what day he was born.
He had forgotten that day completely.
The only records of his original birth date were kept in his old diaries and records from his days before the Darkin, and even then, he didn’t care to look. To anyone who ever asked, he’d simply tell them the date that he remembered entering his current life.
He paced around the hall, feeling the paintings’ eyes on him. Each portrait was a piece of history, versions of himself that he had forgotten with the time. As the portraits got older, he started to feel more and more resentful towards them. How inexperienced… How naive. He’d never allow himself to act as foolishly as he used to, though that foolishness did get him to where he resided now.
Oh, the years he’s lived and forgotten, the nameless faces that he can vaguely remember, the promises and secrets he’s heard… They all pile up over the years. The skeletons he has are just as great in quantity, and there are few who know of them that still live.
He stopped his pacing, his eyes falling on a portrait of him, most likely from the rule of the Iron Revenant. He looked different than he did now; he looked tired, posed in front of the Immortal Bastion. There was a pompous look in his eyes, despite the weary appearance, a look as if he could kill gods and get away with it scot-free.
The fall of Mordekaiser. That was when this was painted. The event that allowed him to get this far. He had to give credit to that accursed illusionist, as much as he hated to admit it. When would she die, he wondered. Perhaps she thought the same to him. She always was one for hiding, and that was something Vladimir’s flamboyant personality could not stand.
He suddenly heard a bang echo throughout his estate. The bang of metal on wood.
He thought someone may have been coming over, though he didn’t invite anyone. Days prior, one of his disciples had mustered the courage to ask him if her and some of his other followers could come to his manor within the coming days, and how could he reject those loyal to him? He had no sure idea as to what they were planning on doing; he simply thought it to be an odd question that he let happen.
He made his way to the entrance hall, opening the door for his guests. If it was who he was expecting, then there would be no issue, but if it were someone else… Well, Vladimir would decide that when they entered.
Familiar voices started to fill the halls as his guests entered. He recognized their voices immediately, pinning down who everyone was rather quickly. They were all excited about something, but what that something was remained to be seen.
Once the crowd made their way in, Vladimir closed the door, making his presence known to them.
“And to what do I owe this pleasure of all of you being here tonight?” Vladimir scanned all of them. It was a group of 13, among them were some of his most promising: Ophelia, Clara, Edvin, Kye. The others were a mix of newer and older members, one of whom Vladimir recognized to be their most recent. How kind of him to join them.
“Lord Vladimir, we wanted to do something for you today!” The same woman who had originally approached him days before pushed to the front of the group to speak. “We remembered you mentioning that today was the day you started your current life, and we wanted to give you gifts, like a birthday! I hope you don’t mind us coming in with all this stuff.” The woman seemed to shrink back slightly as she finished speaking, bracing for a chastising that didn’t come.
“My… You bunch are certainly different from the others. This is the first time the members of the Circle decided to do something like this, especially without my knowledge.” He walked forward, placing a clawed hand on the woman’s head, lightly ruffling her teased blonde hair before taking his hand back and continuing. “Do as you wish with the main hall, and I thank you for your loyalty and efforts.”
The night was young, and it certainly would be one that Vladimir took note of. The youth of the Circle was something that he reveled in, its members all unique. The pain he had gone through in the millennia before this day was worth it, if only for this celebration of himself.