Vax

You, Vex, Vax, Percy and Keyleth had just gotten to the Feywild city of Syngorn, where their father had begrudgingly allowed them inside. The only reason you were here was because you had to traverse through the city to get to the swamp that held Fenthras’ bow. But you were informed that Syldor would probably have information on it.

The twins had just met their little sister, Velora, who they had no idea existed. But Syldor soon ruined it.

“Your father will be pleased to see you.” Vax and Vex’s step mom, Devana, said.

“Perhaps I would’ve been if you had notified me that you’d be gracing us with your presence.” *Syldor said, from an indoor balcony that he stood on, giving the twins a harsh glare.&

Vex and Vax had very different views on the man. Vax despised him, practically ready to fight at just the mere mention of his name, while Vex just wanted his approval and love, she was so desperate for it.

You and Vox Machina has just gotten done fighting a huge lightning dragon, and you all were recuperating. Grog and Scanlan had all decided to start playing a game called ‘Ball Tag’ to just have fun.

You were all sitting in the kitchen, with Percy, Keyleth, Vex, Pike, just talking and laughing with them. Vax had just gotten himself breakfast, a piece of toast in his mouth, setting the bowl on the table and going to sit down, when Grog slammed his fist into Vaxildan’s jewels. Vax groaned and fell to the floor, while Scanlan winced. “Haha, 5-2, Vax!” Scanlan laughed. Grog cheered.

Vax held onto the edge of the table, his knuckles white, speaking through pain and clenched teeth. “I-I never agreed to this stupid game-!”

Vax'ildan and you had been dating for... eh, who keeps count anymore, really. It was definitely around a year. Anyway, his father caught wind, and since the twins had made up with him.. he wanted to meet this so called lover.

The two of you have a letter slid under your door in the tavern you stayed in, Vax hauling himself out of bed to read it. A small groan escaped him. "Father.. wants to meet you." He scoffed slightly, handing you the letter as he climbed back in bed beside you. The letter read:

---

'My dearest son, it has been quite the time since I've seen you, around when Thordak was defeated, if I recall correctly. I have heard from a few sources that you have a partner. I am very happy for you, my boy. I've already had your sister and her husband, Percy, over, so I believe it's your turn now. I hope you can join me for dinner in two days.

Sincerely, Syldor Vessar.'

---

The signature at the bottom had a leaf scribbled beside it. You looked over at Vax and gave a soft nod. You wanted to go.

So, you both did. Arriving at the childhood palace, Vax gripped your hand as the two of you waited for an audience with his father.

Vax thought he knew what he was signing up for when he offered his soul to the Matron of Ravens. A fair trade, or so he believed—his sister returned to life, and he’d be left with a warm glow of satisfaction and a few more mugs of ale to throw back after they killed Grog's cruel uncle. But now, here he stood, wandering through the shattered remains of the fort, overwhelmed by visions and golden strings weaving tales he never asked for.

A victory. That’s what the townsfolk had called it when the dust settled and they could finally breathe again, no longer shackled to oppression. Cheers echoed in his mind, but they felt distant, muffled; the warmth of ale forgotten for a relentless pull—each golden string a thread of destiny tugging at him.

the threads surrounding him, tangled and chaotic, illusions crafted by a deity who twisted power like a child twisting daisies. He gazed up, the ruins looming above him like silent sentinels, veiled in shadows of memories he’d rather forget.

Following the strings became an obsession, a haunting desire to understand the price of his bargain. Each step towards them felt heavier than the last, as if the fort’s disrepair mirrored the disarray in his soul. Rush of voices, laughter, love, the blend of emotions tangled around his heart, a bittersweet melody.

There it was—a vision of the Matron, vast and haunting, draped in shadows and ferocity, as regal as she was fearsome. Her eyes bore into him, and those golden threads connected their souls. “You think you can sever the ties of fate?” Her voice echoed like the last breath of a dying breeze, slow and deliberate.

He swayed on his feet, tethered to destiny, twisting around his limbs like puppet strings, dragging him by the force that was no doubt invisible to his friends. but a spark of rebellion sparked deep within him and he pulled back against them.

His teeth clamped down and he pulled until the threads snapped, the reverie broken and he found himself stumbling back without them.

Laughter, music, the smell of wine & ale.

From both inside of the castle out into the luscious gardens, the celebration of Winter’s Crest is lively. The people of Whitestone now live in an era of (relative) peace following the downfall of the Briarwoods.

It was endless 'thank you’s and 'you’re our heroes’s wherever you turned your cheek. In all honesty, you found yourself overwhelmed.

Tucked away in a secluded part of the garden, your friends danced and mingled with the people. You could see gifts being exchanged by unnamed citizens, and more laughter followed.

Your thoughts were interrupted when a tall figure stepped into your line of sight. He eyed you softly yet curiously, taking in how you sat alone beyond the celebration.

“It’s a shame, really,” Vax’ildan muses, “hiding away like this when you dressed so beautifully for the occasion.”

His presence is warm, just as it always is, and he smiles when you seem to stumble over a response.

Vax'ildan—known to most simply as Vax—was a figure carved from shadows and secrets, a half-elf whose life had been a tangle of chance and choice.

Born from a fleeting union between elven royalty and humble human peasantry, his existence had always carried the weight of dual worlds.

Alongside his twin sister, Vex'ahlia, Vax had navigated a childhood marked by uncertainty and longing. Raised by their mother in a modest home, their early years were filled with quiet love and the hope of a better future.

But fate had other plans. When the twins were still young, they were sent to live with their elven father in the shimmering city of Syngorn.

The reception they received was cold and distant—an unspoken reminder that they were outsiders in a land that valued lineage and tradition over kinship.

The elven court's indifference deepened their sense of alienation, and after a season of cold receptions, Vax and Vex'ahlia stole away one autumn night, carving their own path into the open world.

Years of wandering followed, each step forging them into resilient survivors. They eventually returned to their roots, seeking the only family they still truly knew—their mother. But their homecoming was shattered.

The once-vibrant village was reduced to ash, their mother gone without a trace. Inquiries led to a devastating truth: a dragon had come, leaving destruction in its wake.

With their bonds broken and their hearts heavy, Vax and Vex'ahlia set their sights on Tal'Dorei, determined to carve out a new destiny.

Vax, ever the outsider, learned early to rely on wit and agility, often sidestepping problems rather than confronting them head-on. But when cunning failed, his skills with blades—honed through elven teachings—became his greatest asset.

Over time, they grew into formidable adventurers, and Vax found himself an integral part of Vox Machina—a ragtag family bound by shared battles and unwavering loyalty.

Now, amid the flickering candlelight of a bustling tavern, Vax sat among friends and kin, laughter spilling over mugs of ale, the weight of past sorrows momentarily lifted.

Here, in the company of those he trusted, Vax felt at home—ready to face whatever new dangers the world might throw their way.

You and Vox Machina had been invited to a dinner put on by Sovereign Uriel, due to your recent defeat of a blue dragon that had been terrorizing Tal’Dorei. You were all dressed up as nicely as possible, and Percy had tried to teach you guys how to behave professionally, but all that went out the window the second you guys walked into the building. You all went separate ways, staying relatively close together, but just exploring.

Currently, it was just you and Vax, looking around and staying silent, observing. He had cleaned up nicely, his hair back in a ponytail instead of his half-up, half-down look, and was in a suit.

The party was pretty calm, with others talking quietly amongst themselves and strangers, glasses of champagne being passed around and drunk. There was someone at the door, announcing guests as they arrived. “And from Whitestone-“ the group saw Percy tense up immediately. “Lord and Lady Briarwood.”

When you all crowded around Percy, worriedly, he told you how they had taken everything from him, and he didn’t know why they were here suddenly.

“I could go to their room, and see why they’re here.” Vax suggested, his voice soft, clearly worried. “In and out, won’t even know I was in there..”

After Vax had left, you had all been sat around a table, with the Briarwoods right across from you all. Percy was sending them death glares, gripping his fork like he wanted to stab their eyes out.

The celebration following your third kill from the Chroma Conclave was loud, chaotic, and undeniably well-earned. Scanlan had generously offered up Château Shorthalt as the venue for the post-victory revelry, and no one in Vox Machina had argued. The place was flooded with music, laughter, and enough ale to bathe in. Oddly, the only food available seemed to be an endless supply of chicken drumsticks—Scanlan had claimed it was a catering oversight, but you had your doubts.

You had ducked away from the crowd hours ago. The noise, the flickering lanterns, the constant chatter—it was too much after the adrenaline crash of battle. You slipped into the Château’s large stone hot tub tucked away in a quieter room, letting the heat wrap around your sore limbs. Your head rested back against the edge, eyes half-closed, the rhythmic bubbling of the water almost hypnotic.

Then footsteps.

You opened your eyes just as the soft sound of whistling reached your ears—a familiar, melodic hum that made your stomach tense. Before you could register anything more, Vax’ildan stepped into view.

You jerked upright instinctively, blinking away your haze. The man was barefoot, bare-chested, and wearing nothing but a towel slung loosely around his waist. His hair was damp, freshly washed, and hung around his face like dark silk.

“Vax?” you managed, trying not to sound startled. “Did you… need something?”

He exhaled through his nose, the faintest smirk touching his lips. “Not particularly. Just figured I could use a soak.” And with that, he stepped into the tub without hesitation, sinking into the water beside you.

The water shifted, rising just a bit with his presence. For a long moment, neither of you said anything. His eyes flicked toward you—calm, unreadable—and you turned your gaze to the far wall, praying the steam was enough to hide the sudden flush on your cheeks.

“Didn’t think you’d be the first one to run from a party,” he said eventually, voice low, teasing.

You scoffed softly, staring into the surface of the water. “Didn’t think you’d follow.”

His mouth quirked again, but this time the smile was softer, less guarded. “Maybe I needed quieter company.”

It was odd, seeing Vax’ildan again. He’d been dead for a while, locked away in the orb of the shadow realm for a couple months now. But here he was, stood, a bit ragged but mostly unharmed, and most importantly, alive.

He hadn’t aged. He was stood around the rest of Vox Machina (and the dirty battlefield of the Malleus Key), staring at them. This was weird, but he couldn’t help but feel a sudden rush of relief. It was odd to see his twin sister, who now looked different than him. They weren’t identical anymore.

He could feel the Matron of Raven’s presence. A faint feeling of a hand on his shoulder, giving him a choice. To stay, or to continue his duties, pay his debt. Vax felt the goosebumps rising on his skin underneath his armour, his thoughts rushing rapidly. But he was snapped out of it by a small side hug from Vex, who murmured a quiet; “I missed you.”