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Fandom Castlevania: Wounded [Closed]

Evelynne wasn’t quite sure if he was genuinely offended by her little quip. Though, when he’d remarked on it she’d physically tense. Hector’s arrival only worsened things. With her gaze falling submissively to the ground just as the man appeared from the walkway.

Cezar, as eager and endearing as he was, hardly eased the sudden tension in the room. She should have apologized. Explain that how, in her limited experience of the world, she’d only ever met one other vampire like him. Or, that she hadn’t quite expressed herself as elegantly as she would’ve liked. However, Evelynne instead remained silent. Choosing to hold her tongue in favor of something else slipping out.

Hector appeared confused. With his gaze flitting back and forth between them. He felt it wasn’t his place to intervene, so he didn’t. Whatever had come up during his three-minute trip to claim his bags wasn’t of his concern. He didn’t, however, plan on lingering here all night.

“Well, shall we then?”


--------


Harem? Carmilla couldn’t have hoped to stifle the chuckle that’d escaped her. “It does seem that way, doesn’t it?” In reality, neither Marcellus or his peers would have ever gotten the opportunity to fulfill that role. She’d only ever turned one of them, and even then it wasn’t exactly that intimate.

“I don’t blame her for asking.” The vampiress playfully purred. “By the way Marcellus left off, it would seem we’ve been on some sort of lovers rendezvous ever since.” Her icy gaze shot to the now apprehensive vampire, narrowing into a halfheartedly accusatory glare. An unspoken order to hold his tongue.

“While what he’d recounted is the truth…” Carmilla almost reluctantly admitted, her honied tone wavering ever so slightly. “It’s only a mere portion of a lengthy, intricate tale. Our bond is…far more complex than that.”

Marcellus was undoubtedly a fiercely loyal soldier. However, he’d always had a nasty little habit of making grand gestures of otherwise trivial things. Especially when pertaining to that night. Carmilla should have known better. However, she wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.

“As for the others, if you’re expecting more grand declarations of love, I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint.” The vampiress would clasp her hands upon the table, shifting her gaze to the armor-clad vampires behind her. The other three took the invitation to actually join them, with their waiter appearing not to long after. Diligently serving their drinks before wordlessly scurrying off back into the crowd.

“…I found Lucien wandering across the Styrian countryside one dreary evening.” Carmilla begun somewhat indifferently after taking a rather small sip of wine.

“He was, to say the least, in terrible shape. Starved, weak, and barely coherent – I took it upon myself to see him nursed back to health.” The man dipped his head in acknowledgement, seemingly content with the scene his master had painted.

“As for Gallio and Sylven, they are both young Styrian natives. Not exactly exciting, I know. They sought me out after the rest of their little pack of vampires were felled against particularly…resourceful villagers. They’re intolerable at times. But, admittedly, quite effective.”

Both men glanced at one another, sharing a faint, albeit slightly devious smile. "Their natural born talent for indiscriminate violence, wild devastation, and reckless sense of loyalty making them the best soldiers anyone could ever hope for.”
 
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“Of course,” Dracula’s gaze left Hector after the man had announced his readiness, and preparedness to leave, to catch Cezar, “It seems we would be doing a grand disservice to Cezar to delay any further.”

Hector let a slight smile turn his lips, “Yes, well…Cezar loves to explore,” he said as he moved first and opened the door, letting Cezar sprint out and ahead down the path, only to wait once more at the gate, “And I don’t get out enough.” Cezar would no doubt enjoy running around Dracula’s castle, and anywhere they stopped at it.

Dracula understood that.

He supposed in truth, all three of them didn’t get out enough. He had tried, for Lisa…it had been such a foolish idea to see the world, to leave her behind. He should have at least taken her, or traveled how he was, not as a man, but as a vampire.

He would reach out gently for Evelynne’s arm. He was aware of how she had gone silent after his comment of offense. He wasn’t blind to how they had been interrupted, and how she may genuinely have thought him to be offended. He wasn’t. At least, not yet. He had understood her comment for what it was, the reason he had indicated he could not tolerate many of his own kind as well.

“Come, let us not have Cezar get too far ahead,” he softened his tone, and added, “I was not offended. We are fickle,” he did not think it of himself, but with immortality came a different idea of time. Humans could promise forever, because forever was not so long. To a vampire, forever meant…well, quite a long time.

Could they be blamed for being fickle when things changed so drastically in their lives?

Perhaps. And perhaps many of them should be. Dracula, after all, did not imagine his heart would ever lose its love for Lisa, that he would ever be so fickle as to just pick up and start anew again – just as, in some respects, Evelynne would never truly move on from Lucilla.

~***~

The mood shift was subtle, but quite notable to Antonia’s group as Carmilla narrowed her gaze upon Marcellus, and began to speak for all the others, effectively rendering them mute guards once more. Faceless, but not quite. Little details gave them personality, but not of their own – and Cassion glanced towards Antonia, not at all subtle, to imply both his unease and dislike.

Antonia offered no obvious acknowledgment like a nod, or even shifting her gaze to lock her eyes to his. She had built her own language over the years of dealing with her kind, and the Church, so all she did was cross one leg over the other, and briefly settle her hands in her lap after setting her own cup down.

“Aah, rabid dogs, always my least favorite,” Cassion teased as Carmilla concluded with the two who had been in Styria, giving a knowing glance to Cyrus as if to imply he was much the same.

He noticed that, and reacted with an outward scoff. “You haven’t seen rabid, boy.” Cyrus stated, clearly not understanding the bait it was, the way it was meant to downplay the truth to his actual statement of the guards. “But if they’re as fun as Carmilla suggests, I’m sure they make for great distractors, skirmishers, or vanguard fighters.”

“True, true,” Cassion allowed with a slight chuckle, before adding, “It is good to see you seem to have brought them to heel,” Cassion indicated, “Those sorts still give you all a bad name to hunters like me who hear horrible stories of bloodlust gone awry, and bloodbaths in the country sides of nobles,” he wouldn’t say vampires outright in this inn, just suggest it was the nobility who got a bad name. Carmilla and Antonia were, after all, nobility. “…sometimes literally.” The comment was just as pointed as ever, another hint at rumors.

‘All right, Cassion, you’re playing your hand too heavy.’ Antonia decided to intervene as Niamh’s eyes widened, no doubt about to ask if humans actually believed that. “It is good to hear a bit more of them, and how you’ve helped some out,” Antonia said, “It seems they’ve all grown well since those days,” since being nursed back to health, turned, or otherwise disciplined into people who could be civilized in a tavern.

She knew she’d get an earful from Cassion later.

Perhaps it would have been appropriate to allow Carmilla to determine how to turn the conversation, but instead, she asked, “Is trouble in Styria common, or was that time something of a fluke?” It was a topic that would keep Cassion happy, and certainly one they’d all be interested in. Being able to maintain peace and order was important, after all.

If Carmilla could not manage that, supporting her in a bid for power might be foolish.

But even Antonia couldn’t deny that some trouble always occurred. There were specialized hunters out there – but villagers being so prepared? That was unusual.
 
Evelynne couldn’t help but passively smile as Cezar bounded off into the night. The air had seemed to lighten the slightest bit, and Evelynne’s mind would find a hint of peace. Perhaps, she had overdramatized a trivial matter. From her, it wasn’t exactly unheard of. Almost even expected with how often she tended to worry.

Dracula, however, didn’t seem to mind. Considerately offering his arm to her in assurance that what she’d said truly wasn’t all that bothersome. Evelynne’s features would soften, genuinely finding comfort in his attempts to console her.

“Alright.” The word had come carefully, almost hesitantly as she’d finally accept his offer. Carefully wrapping her arm around his and loosely clinging to the appendage.

Together, they would emerge. Hector lead the way towards the gate, with little Cezar growing increasingly excited as the trio approached. He’d already begun to paw anxiously at the gate, more than ready to begin their journey.

Hector opened the gate. Cezar instantly squeezing his little body though the second he was able to. He didn’t toddle too far ahead, eventually stopping to make sure his companions were still tagging along.

Evelynne stifled a soft, playful chuckle. Gently squeezing Dracula’s arm as she’d done so. How she wished she could be as eager and carefree as the little one was. Even in death, it would seem that he was still much more lively than her.

He didn’t know what they were preparing to do, however. He couldn’t possibly understand the concept of war or genocide, or see newcomers as anything but new playmates.

Hector was an odd one. He didn’t exactly appear to be the genocidal type either. Maybe a bit disconnected from the rest of humanity, but murderous? It made her ponder exactly what Isaac, the other human, would be like.

------

The term rabid had been used to describe vampires ever since…well, there had been vampires. She didn’t quite see Cyrus as being nearly as “rabid” as her men had been. By the way he’d fiercely snapped at Cassion, she was sure there was some kind of history there. Carmilla, however, didn’t bother interrupting with her inquiries.

However, her expression would visibly shift at the words “sometimes literally.” The vampiress was somewhat taken aback, and for once, she was left speechless. Rumors were nasty little things. Slivers of truth festering on the tongues of superstitious or otherwise ignorant mortals. Most rumors regarding the Vampiress of Styria held no merit. This one, however…

Carmilla would arch a brow. Curiosity written on her features. Bloodbathing was admittedly one of her many guilty pleasures. But, this was the first time it’d been brought up outside of her keep, and the manner he’d mentioned it had piqued her interest.

Poised almost as a halfhearted accusation, Carmilla found herself quite suddenly curious in what else Cassion had come to know of. However, before the hunter could continue, Antonia intervened. Seemingly keen on silencing not only him, but the excitable young vampire who hadn’t even had the chance to speak.

Carmilla would take care to remember this. Trivial as it were, there was no telling exactly the extent of what the rumors had them believing.

“Oh, yes.” Carmilla finally agreed, a smile playing at her ruby lips. “Miracles, really. The lot of them.” Her tone was ever so slightly aloof, as if she were dwelling on something. “…And keeping the peace is nothing they have an issue with.“

The vampiress’ gaze would flit to Marcellus and the men behind him for but a moment. “But it wasn’t always that way. For a time, it was even commonplace.” She’d trail off, taking a small sip of her wine. “Before I really had an ample foothold in the region. Once my reign had really begun, however, I took care of it. Of late, it’s been relatively quiet. There’s a few outsiders and riots and the like, but they never last long enough to be a real problem.”
 
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Cezar had a way of lightening the mood immensely with his mannerisms. The little chuckle from Evelynne caused Dracula’s own lips to twitch a bit in a light smile as his gaze shifted down. He felt her squeeze his arm, but he would make no comment on it. He knew it was not merely for her balance, for she hadn’t stumbled at all or shown a hint of needing the additional support. It was likely a thoughtless action performed in her interest in the dog, who did not know the way to the castle.

Nonetheless, for the time being, Dracula had no reason to dictate the path. Cezar was on the right route, following the road a bit.

Hector walked on ahead, and he could see the castle, even in the moonless night. It was an imposing beast in the darkness, and when Cezar seemed to move off the right path, he whistled for him, “Cezar, this way.” And Cezar was quick to come toddling along down the new route that Hector had chosen, his companions silent behind him.

He was the one to ask, “Have you already found Isaac?” It had been mentioned in passing.

“No,” Dracula answered, shaking his head, “I intend to go to him next,” he answered, “I will have to show you to your quarters, and the forge. You will need to let me know if anything is missing, or required, beyond what preparations I have already made.”

“I doubt I’ll need anything else,” Hector acknowledged, “I never have needed much….” A truth that was all too bitter in some ways. He’d been forced to live a minimalist for much of his life, finding comfort mostly in his pets and the dead, rather than material goods.

Dracula would acknowledge it with the slightest of hums, “And, I suppose, I will have to find quarters for you,” that was said to Evelynne as the shadow of the castle fell upon them, the towering monstrosity of floating towers lingering over the wilderness, “I am not certain I have much that would rival Lucilla’s luxury,” he had luxury, of course, but he had always been more interested in retaining knowledge and scientific advancements, magic, over gilded items and marble statues.

“You will have to let me know what you will need, as well,” there would be time yet to make things…comfortable. They might even manage a stop after Isaac, or before, depending on what it was that was required. Thankfully he had plenty of rooms emptied in preparation of his esteemed guests.

He might find it humorous that they would be afforded more luxury than his two human generals, whom he trusted more, if he didn’t understand the wretched necessity of keeping the mob happy.

Cezar began to bark as he reached the steps into the castle, and one of the perched demon-like gargoyles hissed at him. Cezar barked more, but by the wag of his tail, it was clear he was more interested in playing with the perched fiend than fighting it.

The fiend was at least smart enough to antagonize Cezar, though it lifted its head in a confused manner, as if looking for instruction – instruction that was not to come so readily.

~***~

The shift in expression was noted by both Cassion and Antonia, though neither would comment. There would be no shared look of conspiracy, though the knowledge was there. Cassion had found a point to hit, and he had hit it well.

All the more reason for Antonia’s move away from it. She would take the note, and learn more, at another time.

Carmilla spoke from a distance now. Cassion’s comments had perhaps distracted her, or perhaps there was another matter on her mind, as she so easily agreed that her allies were blessings – miracles. It seemed the peace of the region came with her own reign.

“How long have you reigned?” Niamh latched onto that, far friendlier, topic. “Who reigned before you?” She added, curious, “They must not have been very good at it.”

Cassion stifled a laugh, “Understatement,” he would allow to slip his lips. He’d heard of Carmilla’s sire, or rather, knew the name of the one who reigned in Styria before her. Whether or not he was also her sire was potentially debatable, tracing vampire lineages were difficult. They didn’t bear similarities to any sire, and the younger ones could move frequently enough to leave their sire’s side.

He knew that Niamh and Cyrus had no relation to Antonia, though he knew Cyrus had childes of his own. He knew of none of Niamh, or Antonia, for that matter – despite her age. If they existed, they were either no longer on speaking terms, or it was not a matter of public knowledge. Or they were dead. He supposed that was always a possibility in the long lives of vampires.

Plenty of sires outlived their childes.
 
What had begun as a meager shadow against the horizon gradually begun to grow to pierce the sky. Evelynne had never seen anything like it before. The – his castle, she’d assumed, loomed menacingly over the landscape. Casting a shadow that even the nearby mountainside would envy.

Every part of it seemed impossible. From its mere height to the rooms reaching out awkwardly from the sides of the main towers. Evelynne was smitten by its visage, visibly awed by what she’d been introduced to.

“For me…?” Uncertainty lingered just beneath her otherwise tentative tone. The thought of entering somewhat unnerved her. The castle itself appeared as a great beast, ready and willing to swallow her whole should she give it the chance. “Well, I suppose so.”

Admittedly, Evelynne would’ve been happy with anything; given it was sufficiently secluded away from everyone and everything else. While she would’ve loved to retain some standard of her old lifestyle, she’d never risk pushing any boundaries by coming off as ungrateful or demanding.

“I…don’t mind.” It’d come hesitantly, as if she were trying to convince herself more so than Dracula. “I think I need some time away from my usual environment anyway.”

Evelynne nearly jumped from her skin once Cezar begun barking madly at one of the fixtures perched onto the castle’s exterior. At first, she hadn’t even noticed the ever so slight movement of the presumed stone creature above. However, when it’d hissed at the small, playful pug below, she’d recoil away in shock.

Being a dhampir, one might think she’d fear the unknown a bit less. That she’d come to expect and accept certain things that mortals just never could. Yet, Hector, the only human among them, didn’t even flinch. Likely knowing full well Dracula would never let one of his own pets devour juicy little Cezar.

Still, Evelynne was visibly unnerved. Unsure of how to feel in the face of this new fiend. Cezar, however, was seemingly hell-bent on befriending it. Completely unaware that, to it, he was little more than a particularly lively little morsel. She could see how he’d perished the first time.

“Little one?” Evelynne called in her signature hesitant tenor, as a mother would to a particularly daring child. Cezar spared her a fleeting glance, and nothing more. Clearly uninterested in her nagging. “I don’t think it wants to play.”

---

“Not long by our standards.” Carmilla confessed rather nonchalantly. And it was true. Seizing power was a painfully slow process, after all. Her master was far less ambitious and meticulous than she, leaving a lot that had to be…tended to after the sun had set on his reign.

“He wasn’t.” The vampiress hissed, intentionally avoiding the first question. Perhaps, it would’ve been something said in confidence to Antonia should she have asked. But, here? No. It wasn’t quite a casual pub conversation. “Sloppy, unfocused, mad. I would hardly call his chaotic rule over Styria a proper reign.”

Carmilla should have known better than indulge Niamh, and by extension Cassion. No doubt they already had many questions primed in response to her less-than-favorable recount of her previous master.

Thinking of him only ever inspired disgust. Hatred even. He was horrid, after all. A parasitic little leech who’d preyed on her at her most vulnerable.

Any mortal would have taken his offer. The world itself, eternity…how could she not? Blinded by ambition and boldened by naivety, she couldn’t have possibly known what she was getting into. What he had in store for her.

“I’d rather not talk about him.”

A very clear line was drawn, and the subject was quickly dropped by Carmilla.

“However, I don’t think I ever got a proper explanation on how you’d come to adopt Cassion, Lady Antonia.” Her tone would shift completely, taking on a much more playful tenor. “I do believe I am still owed one.”
 
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Dracula would allow Evelynne that time to sort things out, and determine what comforts she would desire. She had all the time in the world, after all. At least, all the time that he lived in it. When things were wrapped up, he was not sure how long he might remain to observe the world grow once more, without humans in it. “Of course. You will have the time,” he agreed.

The gargoyle and the pug took up more attention then that conversation, though, and Dracula released Evelynne in order to approach the demon, and Cezar, who was still far too excitable. Hector had stayed back, somewhat uncertain, as well. The tone that was used to call Cezar did not seem to distract him well, but Dracula picked him up all the same.

His bark was almost more of a yelp of surprise, and Dracula stepped up to the demon to allow the pug to sniff it better. The demon initially recoiled at the presentation, but when Dracula’s red eyes narrowed, it leaned forward and tried to sniff the pug back and take its measure.

The scent of Cezar was offensive to it. That was obvious by the way it’s nose wrinkled, “Dracula, I’m not sure this is—” Hector began, but was startled to silence when Cezar licked the demon, and it recoiled again and hissed, but didn’t lash the pug for its offensive gesture. Cezar started to bark again; apparently the taste didn’t agree with him, either.

The demon on the other perch seemed amused, cackling from its place, an offensive enough gesture to the other demon. It unfurled its wings and flew over Dracula to tackle the other demon off its perch for its laughter, a reaction that caused Hector to freeze, while Dracula just shook his head and lowered Cezar.

The pug had enough sense to not go join the wrestling. “That is enough.” Dracula hardly had to raise his voice, before the two demons separated, and returned to their respective perches.

Cezar toddled his way back towards Hector and whined, apparently having his fill of the demons after licking one. “I believe his curiosity is sated, for a time,” likely not forever.

Hector sighed, but did chuckle a bit at the second whine that came his way. He bent, briefly, to stroke Cezar’s fur. “Yes, well…I suppose so.” He agreed. And the demons didn’t seem like they would attack Cezar. Each other, sure, but not the pug. That was somewhat reassuring to see.

He rose and would follow Dracula up the stairs, Cezar clinging to his leg, and up into the marvelous castle where the lanterns lit immediately when the doors swung open for them.

~***~

Evasive. It seemed to be a characteristic trait for Carmilla, as Antonia noted more and more she didn’t offer exacts for how long she had ruled Styria, nor exacts on the man who had ruled before. He was obviously a topic that she did not wish to linger on, though. That much, Carmilla could not hide, and did not even attempt to hide.

Antonia wouldn’t allow them to press it, even as she saw Niamh press her lips together, clearly curious, but also aware enough not to want to cause Carmilla more pain. Niamh’s usual way was, however, to keep talking about things and try to get people to open to her.

Carmilla avoided that with the shift in topic, and Antonia gave a simple nod, “I suppose I could indulge you further,” she allowed, taking a sip of the watered down wine, before elaborating, “His family had decided to move closer than I liked to my territory and I went to investigate them when he was still a teenager. He could not recognize what I was at the time, nor could his father.”

She did not specify the guise. If Carmilla wanted to play with evasions, she would, as well. “I lived in his home for a while,” escaping now and then, as cats were wont to do, “and when I discovered the reason for his family’s move, and their capabilities, I introduced myself to him properly.”

Cassion laughed a bit, “That was a rather interesting night.” It wasn’t every day the cat on his chest transformed into a vampire. Or that his father found him in that compromising position.

Antonia had recalled how red in the face Cassion had been, and not from anger. He would have been easy to manipulate on his own back then, but she had not wanted to do that. “I made a deal with his father at the time, and their clan of hunters. They would work for me.” The details of the deal were also left out, though Antonia had no qualms with sharing it, it was simply to continue the precedence set by Carmilla.

She had been cutting deals with hunters and the church for years, this was no different for her. It was a way of survival, and a way of making sure more humans didn't rise up in rebellion. Troublesome vampires were dealt with before their plague spread and ruined the reputation of them all. “And I would be allowed to take young Cassion into my direct service, and he would live with me. Something of insurance,” her smile was a bit coy, but it would be easy enough to understand. A threat to Cassion’s life had started it all, but it had worked itself out. The ward became a trusted advisor, with a vast network of connections to other hunting families, and plenty of power and wealth on top of it.

They were both seen as traitors by some, but neither really cared. “That is how I adopted him.” Almost, quite literally.
 
Dracula had gone mad; they were sure of it. Evelynne and Hector exchanged uncertain glances between each other, clearly not as convinced of the situation as the vampire appeared to be.

Not even the demon seemed all that enthralled. Eagerly recoiling away once the tiny, excitable dog was presented to it. Cezar saw his opportunity and took it with vigor. Gleefully sniffing the demon as it would a member of its own species.

Evelynne was nothing short of bewildered. The demon, after a moment of what seemed to be contemplation, would tentatively lean forward and return the gesture. The influence Dracula had over these hell beasts was simply baffling. Reducing it to the mannerisms of a dog with one mere glance.

It sat, compliant with its master’s wishes until the pug decided to lick it. Neither of them seemed to enjoy it though, with one of the demons even cackling in response to its neighbor’s misfortune.

A fight would break out amongst the gargoyle-esque creatures, but was quickly quashed by Dracula. Demons, it appeared, were hardly more than sharp-toothed, winged children. Even so, Evelynne would take extra care when crossing them. Not bothering to as much glance in their direction as they entered the castle. With Cezar, thankfully, still in relatively one piece.

Together, they’d pass through the large wooden doors and into the threshold of his castle. Instantly, the dhampir was awestruck. The foyer itself was magnificent, boasting impossibly high ceilings and endless, ethereal candles the likes of she’d never seen before. Somewhere, within the heart of the castle, the faint whir of complex machinery would cut through the silence. It was…unreal. Impossible. A feat so great that not even magic could have easily managed it.

“It’s…oh my…”

Evelynne had been devoured. She was in the belly of the beast now, yet she was not afraid. “It’s like a dream, but - I’m here and living it – and still, none of this feels real.”

---------

Carmilla arched a brow. Antonia’s ambiguity wasn’t lost on her. Given, she did indulge her curiosity. But only just.

She supposed, if anything it was warranted. A silent little jab on how she, herself, tended to devoid unnecessary details, or blatantly refused to address certain matters.

Obviously, withholding information in alliances was often frowned upon. But, there was a time and place for everything. Less savory matters would arise in their own time, where Carmilla could properly control the situation if need be. However, that was a burden to be bared later on. A bridge to be hopefully crossed, burned and forgotten after all was said and done.

For now, the tale she wove wasn’t all that vague. Clearly, she’d lived as some sort of animal during her initial stay with Cassion’s family. It had to be something small, inconspicuous. Something that humans naturally trusted and wanted by their side. Something easily…adopted into a household.

A dog, wolf – even? Perhaps a cat?

Carmilla was indeed curious, but, in the grand scheme of things exactly what animal she’d assumed didn’t matter. Perhaps she’d ask later on if it crossed her mind again.

“Interesting.” Her icy gaze traced over the both of them, a glint of amusement present. “It’s fortunate they were so easily swayed then.”

Then again, what choice did they really have? Surely, the consequences of refusal would have been no less than eradication. Besides, the benefits were likely nothing to scoff at. Allying with the most influential vampiress in the region? Easy choice.

What did strike her as odd, though, was their willingness to hand over their son. In her experience, most human families whose names meant anything, heirs were prioritized over all else. A steep price, surely, even for the sake of “insurance”.

“It's fortunate that he's grown into his role so well. He seems right at home with you, Lady Antonia.”

A very well-trained pet indeed.
 
Hector had not seen the castle before.

Dracula had left it behind, to travel as a man, when they met. Seeing it now, not even the stoic man could hide his own awe. His eyes widened a bit and he stepped forward to a more central part of the entrance, as Dracula paused where Evelynne did.

“My thoughts exactly,” Hector echoed Evelynne, as Cezar went rushing about, sniffing as much as he could. Thankfully, he didn’t go into a barking fit, though he looked as if he might shake his tail off.

Dracula may have once reveled in the praise and the shock that came with the introduction to his home. He knew its wonders were grand. Far ahead of its time – and yet, in his mind, not. Humans were foolish, and stupid, and abandoned things for a myriad of petty reasons. His wife had tried to show them…to help them…all for naught.

“It’s all quite real,” Dracula assured, “I have had plenty of time to build my home, and learn about the world around us.” Everything there made sense to him, a blending of technology and what humans termed ‘magic’. Perhaps, it was, but to him it all had a logical way to be understood, and rules to it.

To him, it wasn’t a blend. It was all science. All natural. And he had been a man once who sought to understand these mysteries…now he would simply use them against humans who feared them.

“Come, let me show you to your quarters, Hector,” he offered, and started to move towards the stairs. “You should come along as well, Evelynne,” to see more, and know her environment.

“Right,” Hector turned towards Cezar, “Cezar, come,” the simple call turned the dog from examining a statue, and he hurried after Hector as the man began to follow after Dracula, up the stairs and towards the East Wing.

~***~

There was some benefit to the ‘rumors’ around Antonia. The fact that they did not often paint her as bloodthirsty was useful, as did her history of working with hunters. There were still those who would love to have her head on principal, but others who understood the benefit to dealing with a vampire who did not recklessly slaughter humans or cause horror wherever they went. Cassion’s family had proven to be the sort willing to deal, something Antonia had learned during her stay with them.

“I’m certainly grateful for it,” Cassion said, knowing how it would have turned out otherwise. He’d be dead. Likely, so would the rest of his family, but he would be dead first. “It’s not so bad, once you get over the fact none of you can cook to save your lives.”

Antonia rolled her eyes at that, and Cyrus scoffed, “One day you’ll learn to like it raw.”

“No, no I won’t,” Cassion said with a chuckle, shaking his head. Vampires had no sense of taste, in Cassion’s not so humble opinion, “but it wasn’t a huge issue. I’ll go back home when my father passes, and Lady Antonia will have a hole to fill. I’m sure she’ll miss me terribly.” Obviously, they would remain in contact – and he would serve her still, but it wouldn’t be the same as being at her side.

Antonia canted her head, “Do you have many dealings with those like him or hunters in your area, Lady Carmilla?” She was obviously against Dracula, but her interest in humans, or lack thereof, was certainly something to consider in the larger scheme. How she chose to deal with them was certainly important in going forward.

At least, by her own words, she seemed to have a handle on the situation in Styria. How that was, however, was not discussed. It could be rule through fear. If the blood bathing held any truth to it…well, it would make the alliance complicated, to say the least.
 
Dracula spoke as if this was a slight feat. Brushing off their awe with little more than a halfhearted assurance that it was all, indeed, real.

The castle itself was a marvel, there was no denying it. It’s architect no doubt any less admirable. Evelynne hadn’t really thought much of Dracula when they’d first met. He was demanding, invasive and very imposing. She couldn’t have possibly imagined what grand artistry this warmonger was capable of.

Evelynne’s pale gaze would flit to Dracula. Her curiosity roused. He seemed so plain. Even now, his appearance betrayed him. She couldn’t help but wonder just how accomplished and complex this man could truly be.

That, however, was something to be mused another time. As Dracula seemed keen on moving on. Evelynne merely dipped her head in acknowledgement when addressed. Wordlessly ascending the stairs behind them as they made their way towards the eastern wing of the castle.

High, intricate ceilings soon turned to smaller, scarcely lit corridors. The air here was somehow…different? Evelynne’s sense of awe soon faded, being replaced by visible uncertainty.

The inner bowels of the castle were significantly more daunting that the foyer. The atmosphere here hung heavy, like a malicious presence all its own. It seemed that she was only one perturbed by this, however, as both Hector and Cezar continued on without a hitch.

Thankfully, it didn’t take them long to reach the forgemaster’s makeshift quarters. They’d come to an abrupt halt in front of one of many doors that lined the corridor, both Hector and Evelynne gazing upon Dracula expectantly.

------

Carmilla was genuinely enamored by their banter. They seemed more so akin to that of a drunken gaggle of friends rather than the court of a great elder vampiress. It was…charming. She couldn’t even imagine being so intimate with her own court.

Her men and advisers stayed in their place and took orders. That was the extent of their relationship. Carmilla was satisfied with that. Or, so she thought.

Her icy gaze would wander to the four armor-clad men sitting behind her. They seemed relaxed, or rather, less uniform than usual. This type of casual environment was clearly doing them good, and it truly pleased her to see them content like this.

Her rubied lips would curl into a genuine smile as she turned her attention back to Antonia’s troupe. Perhaps, if their pact proved fruitful, they’d see many more of these leisurely little excursions in the coming years.

“No. I don’t.” Carmilla bluntly replied after a bout of silence. “Relations with the locale are… abysmal at best.”

Her previous master had been ruthlessly intolerant of hunters. By the time she’d usurped him, many of the actual competent houses and their allies had been scoured from Styrian soil. She was certain that he’d even made a point to eliminate all heirs – bastards and all.

“I was left quite the mess to work with, unfortunately. I’d doubt any worthwhile candidate would be interested in such an arrangement. Yet. Though, it is something I may choose to pursue after a few generations. Give them proper time to forget.”
 
With the pause before the door, Dracula stepped forward and pushed it open, revealing first the more public quarters of the room, which seemed designed a bit like a smaller church, with the altar at the center. Only, the altar wasn’t an altar, of course, but a slab of stone where Hector could practice his trade and all along the back wall was another long stone table for Hector to place whatever he would need in regards to his tools, and a kiln and fire in a corner.

“Isaac will have his own quarters, fit more to his talents, as well,” so there would be no need to share. As he stepped in, he gestured to the right, “That will lead to your room,” where he could rest, and avoid others. There would be a key for that, of course, and Dracula reached to pull a chain up from under his attire. “The door to the left leads out of the castle, I expect it will be used to bring you materials.”

Corpses, in a word.

He undid the chair and then pulled the key that Hector would need and offered the black, skeletal thing to him. Hector took it, turning it over in his hand.

“It’s funny,” he mused aloud, “I had a home, but it never felt like much of a home, before all of this,” even though he was living with someone else, and would be living with several others soon, this felt more like a home than his cabin already. Perhaps it was just the knowledge that here, he was wanted.

When he lived alone, he couldn’t say that.

Dracula’s red eyes softened on him, as he hid the keys away once more. He had plenty to give out, soon, after all, as other vampires arrived and as Isaac was retrieved.

Cezar was already moving about, sniffing the room out, “You’re welcome to stay here when everything is done, Hector. This can be your home.”

Hector looked up, his smile weak, but sincere, “Thank you,” he likely would, but he supposed, time would tell. And what remained of the world, and the vampires, and Isaac. Who he had yet to meet. “I’ll get settled here. You should show her where she’s staying,” he gestured to Evelynne.

Dracula gave a nod. He would allow Hector to settle in this area and spread out what he’d brought. He would need to take a stop by his own quarters to get a key for her – he didn’t have enough for her, and didn’t want to put her in the same wing as all the vampires. “Come this way, Evelynne,” he said.

Cezar let out a bark before they could leave, though, and came running up to Evelynne once more, to try and get a last pet from her.

~***~

The depth of the former head of Styria had truly left things in a poor state if Carmilla was unable to build relationships yet. ‘Or she has done her own sorts of purging.’ Not unlikely. Even Antonia had worked through a period where she could not work with humans. Devastating churches and leaving clergy out to die did that, though, but she’d hardly take it back. If she had her way she would have destroyed the Church, root and stem, but not even she was that powerful.

“Well,” Cassion was the one to speak, “perhaps when all is said and done, a few whispers can aid in that,” he would be the one with that influence, “presuming it all goes well, of course, and we don’t all get murdered in this asinine quest.” Going after Dracula was suicidal.

“Would you rather not participate, Cassion?” Antonia arched a brow.

“I didn’t say that, but even you must know how suicidal this is, and I’m no Belmont.”

“Obviously, we like you,” Cyrus noted. A Belmont would never work with a vampire under any circumstances. Thankfully, they were all dead, and not even by vampires. Enraged townsfolk, the Church, humans had done that to themselves. A few whispers, in the right places…Cyrus didn’t know who he had to thank for it.

“Well thank you, Cyrus,” Cassion let a wicked grin slip onto his lips, “I don’t think you’ve ever actually said you liked me before.”

Cyrus narrowed his eyes, uncertain what Cassion might try with that. He half-expected a hug. It didn’t come, thankfully. It would have been in poor tastes to start a scene by shoving Cassion to the floor because his stupid crucifixes burned. And also bad to show that he was burned by crucifixes. The townspeople apparently hadn’t realized anything yet, but that would likely break the façade of them just being weird-looking people.

“We’ll all have plenty to do when this is over,” Cyrus grumbled, “Soon as others hear Dracula kicked it, we’re all going to have issues.” Emboldened hunters would become a nuisance for all of them, not to mention the scramble for power. Even if they ended up throwing in with Carmilla, there would be mediations with others to keep them in line, or more petty skirmishes. “I fucking hate Dracula.”

“You hate work.” Antonia stated, and Niamh allowed giggles to escape her at that, as Cyrus grumbled something but didn’t seem to contradict it.

He did hate work. It was work. Who liked work? But he did it as diligently as anyone else, better than anyone else, perhaps, because he wanted it done. “But you are correct, there is much ahead of us, that is why we are here.” Why they were even taking this time to learn a bit more, because at the end…whether they stood by Carmilla or not would influence quite a bit of what was ahead of them, and they had to keep assuming there was a future.
 
‘You’re welcome to stay here when everything is done, Hector. This can be your home.’

Evelynne’s gaze would idly wander towards the forgemaster. A glint of cautious revelation present in her scarred, pale eyes. It would seem that Hector had his own reservations concerning his offer, but veiled underneath that generous intent came a sudden, almost unwelcome realization.

She hadn’t even considered what would happen…after.

After all the humans perished and the land was scoured of their evil. After Dracula finally felt his revenge whole and complete. Would she – Could she return to Lucilla’s keep after abandoning it? She’d left it all behind. In doing so, she’d forsaken her memory. Left her to rot in a gilded shrine that would likely succumb to thieves before she could even return.

Would she be offered the same courtesy as Hector? Would she even accept it if he did offer? Evelynne drew a deep, contemplative breath. Trying to momentarily stave away the dread that was steadily creeping up her spine.

It was only when Hector spoke again, and she’d heard her name, that she would force herself back to reality.

Her quarters. Of course.

“Alright.” It’d come with a cautious, fleeting smile. “Shall we then?”

She’d turned before he could respond, seemingly keen on moving on. However, just as she’d gone to move away, the sound of harried little tippy taps would catch her attention.

Sure enough, out came Cezar. Eagerly wandering up to Evelynne with an expectant glint in his one remaining eye. She’d kneel down next to the pup, delicately obliging him with a few careful scratches.

“Be good, little one.”

Satisfied, Cezar would bound back into the makeshift forgery. Excited to explore his new surroundings while his master settled in. Leaving Dracula and Evelynne alone to carry on as they pleased.

Together, the duo would weave through the labyrinth that was his castle. Evelynne was quiet. A passive, almost invisible presence. She didn’t appear keen on conversation and her mind seemed to be elsewhere. That is, until she finally broke the silence between them.

“I never got the chance to properly thank you.” Evelynne said rather meekly, the slightest hint of regret hidden underneath her humble tone. “I don’t think I ever would have left if you hadn’t happened by. I loved that castle. I loved Lucilla; but it just wasn’t healthy. I think…it’s maybe even what she would have wanted.”

----

“I would appreciate that.” The vampiress idly purred. “Given I survive, of course.”

It’s come partly as jest. Only partly. Carmilla’s hand in this was, after all, a bit more intimate. She was soon to be a member of Dracula’s war council. And with that opportunity, came an inherent risk that was unique to her. One misstep is all it’d take. One failed coercion or slip of the tongue and it’s quite possible she’d be slain on the spot.

Her gaze would wander between Cyrus and Cassion as they bickered back and forth. In their rambles, there was truth. Once the old man fell, vampire society as they knew it would topple with him. No matter the allegiances made between them, there was a long, bloody road ahead for everyone involved.

“It’ll all be worth it in the end.”

For her, maybe. From the ashes of Dracula’s reign, she’d rise. Perhaps make a few allies of her own from what remained. Already, she was somewhat acquainted with the majority of vampires that made up his council. Godbrand and his ilk were a given. It was comical, really. How easily he fell victim to her icy, commandeering gaze. But he, and the other vampires weren’t what she really had her eye on.

Forgemasters. It was rumored Dracula had recruited a few particularly talented humans into his council. Two, there were. Each harboring the ability to raise and morph the dead to their will. Vampire kind had never managed to master such abilities. But, perhaps, should she manage to coerce one against his master, she wouldn’t have to. Given, of course, they actually manage to kill Dracula.

“The chaos in felling Dracula will bring will seem petty compared to what this madman has planned for humanity. If we can handle him, anything else that would come will fall just as easily.”
 
If Cezar had a bad bone in his body, it was only because it was one he was currently gnawing on. Dracula could not help but find the brief interaction of Cezar and Evelynne to be endearing as she tried to tell the far too innocent pup to be good. It, more than any of them in that castle, would never need that advice.

That sentiment, slightly charmed, remained as he led Evelynne out. Silence was rarely unbearable, but all the same, it made it more comfortable as he made his way towards his own quarters, more of an office now than a bedroom. What use did he have for a bed any longer? He did not need sleep…he stayed up during the nights as well as the days.

The silence did find itself broken, not by him, but by the young dhampir. ‘Not so young, Alucard is far younger than her.’ Only young in comparison to himself, perhaps.

His red gaze returned to her as she expressed her gratitude to him, causing a light hum to rumble in his throat before he took that final turn, and opened the door to a room with a fire in the hearth, and a chair set up near it. Lisa’s image was upon the wall, as well as many books on the shelves, and shifting glass pieces that he could use to travel, as well as spy.

‘What she wanted….’

Those words, in another context, haunted him still. “I cannot speak for what she may have wanted, I never knew her, but it is rarely our desire to have our loved ones suffer,” still he convinced himself that Lisa would want him to take revenge, no matter how Alucard had professed otherwise. Lisa had done everything for those humans, she only tried to better their miserable lives, and they killed her.

She could not have retained that love for them after that. His revenge may cause him suffering, but at the end of it…at the end, he imagined, he might find peace.

At least he could imagine that Lisa would find peace.

“You are welcome,” he added, as he moved to a box set up on a small table near the fire. Opening it revealed a plethora of keys, but he took one almost as if he’d known the entire time which one would be best, “I think this room shall fit. It will be further away from most of the other vampires, and near to the library and laboratory,” which was why it was further from the other vampires. He didn’t need them playing around in either place, or stumbling upon the room Lisa had.

A room he would keep in pristine condition.

That would not be the room he was offering to Evelynne, there were others. He had thought a time or two he may have other children with Lisa and had prepared them to have something of a wing of space near those places, as Lisa did enjoy spending time between them. “If you do not wish to go back to Lucilla’s, you may also find a home here.” It would be quite empty soon, “presuming you are able to tolerate its other residents. I would understand if you couldn’t.” Hector she might.

Isaac? Unlikely. His sense of duty and his cold disposition would likely not make them fast friends.

~***~

That it would all be worth it, in the end, was a given they could all agree with, “Generally speaking, anything less than mass extinction is entirely preferable,” Cassion stated, as if it were a given. “So when we come to that future, I will certainly be glad for it. Cyrus just complains.”

Niamh giggled as Cyrus did let out a grumbling breath at Cassion’s easy commentary on his disposition. It wasn’t a lie, but it hardly needed aired. Niamh’s giggles, however, dissolved rather quickly, “This was all over a mortal woman, wasn’t it?” She suddenly seemed worried, and looked to Antonia, “You won’t do this when Cassion dies, right?”

Antonia blinked a couple of times in rapid succession, surprised that would even be a consideration. “Aww, do you like me more than you’ve told me?”

“No,” Antonia stated bluntly, and Cassion mouthed ‘ow’ when Cyrus gave him a coy smirk, “And no, Niamh. I’ve never done such a thing in my history and I hardly intend to start now. Someone should have taught Dracula how to deal with loss.” She didn’t fault him for not turning the woman – he was likely respecting the wishes of someone he loved dearly, but he should have known that would mean losing her at some point.

Even as a vampiress, he could have lost her.

Niamh let out a sigh of relief, “Okay. You’re one of the only ones I’ve met who does much with humans. I was worried.” At least, comparatively speaking. Vampires tended to feed off of humans, over animals, and she knew Antonia did – but her relationships went beyond that. Cassion was the closest one she’d seen, but he wasn’t the only one. There was another driver of the carriage with them, currently sleeping, after all.

They did have to work in shifts, after all.

“But how is it going to be done?” Niamh asked.

“Carmilla will gather information, and send it back to us, opening up our opportunities to make a move,” Antonia summarized.

“Sounds dangerous,” playing traitor always did, “Are you sure you’re okay with that?” She looked to Carmilla, “You could just stay with us.”

“Then how would we get information?” Cyrus asked.

Niamh puffed up a bit, “Well we weren’t planning on having any before, anyway!” And still they had been planning to stop Dracula.
 
Evelynne followed as diligently as she could. Being careful to mind her unfamiliar surroundings. Despite her less than admirable eyesight, she managed herself well. Or, rather, well enough.

That is, however, until Dracula acknowledged her again. The way elder vampire’s gaze silently shifted to her made her blood run cold. To some extent, it was an innate reaction. The human blood in her inspiring fear upon being noticed by a potential predator.

However, it was also learned. A certain dread burned into her mind after she’d found out what those claws could really do. For the briefest of moments, she’d regret expressing her gratitude. Thinking, albeit irrationally, that just maybe she’d managed to garner some sort of ill will by doing so.

Together, they’d come to a quite the peculiar room, it’s door already somewhat ajar. The conversation and the worry it’d brought was still fresh on her mind and she’d hesitate to enter behind him. Only bringing herself to follow once he’d spoke once more.

‘I cannot speak for what she may have wanted, I never knew her…’

Cautiously, she’d enter behind him. The distinctive, comforting aroma of cinders and aged leather overwhelming her senses the moment she passed over the threshold. It was a familiar scent. A reassuring one.

‘but it is rarely our desire to have our loved ones suffer’ And, of course, ‘You are welcome.’

Evelynne merely nodded in response. Her attention somewhat diverted. The air here was hauntingly familiar. Structurally, it was not unlike than the rest of the castle. Melancholy would’ve been a good term to describe it. Mournful, even? Dracula set to work whilst Evelynne took in her surroundings.

The only thing that really caught her eye was a portrait. A woman. Beautiful, blonde, human. She was transfixed. Her mind flooded with a plethora of questions and varying emotions that made her head spin.

He’d taken only a moment to ruffle through his things, but to her, it’d felt like an eternity just standing there. Staring at what, or rather, who was likely none of her concern.
It seemed he a specific place in mind for her. Thankfully away from all of the other…potentially unsavory guests he’d be having later on.
“I appreciate that.”

And it was near the library. A place where, in Lucilla’s keep, she’d spent nearly all of her time when she was alive. It’d give her somewhere to go. Something to do other than linger in her room when the castle was buzzing with talk of war.

What he said next felt like an ultimatum. It was what she wanted to hear, she thought. An offer to end her miserable, lonely life in Lucilla’s keep forever.
“We’ll have to see.” No, it wasn’t what she wanted to say. The threat of “intolerable residents” was hardly a threat at all. It was a promise. A promise that, at least, she wouldn’t be alone. “…When the war is over.”

Evelynne forced a careful smile. A pathetic attempt to lift the seemingly unshakable tension. “I like Cezar, though.”
“And Hector too. A bit.”

Isaac couldn’t be that bad, could he?

----

“That is true.” Carmilla said through a relenting chuckle. “Better than inevitable starvation, too.”
The room’s tension quickly dissolved. There was hardly room for it here, it seemed. Never really managing to linger longer than Niamh could keep her slew of giggles and genuine, yet amusingly naive comments.

It was an oddly amusing thought, though. To defeat Dracula only to have Antonia go on a similar rampage over the loss of a dearly beloved pet. Antonia seemed baffled that she’d even ask such a question. Perhaps even a bit offended. Thankfully.

She was sane. Even through her shameless grasp for power, she could see that Dracula’s fixation with genocide wasn’t healthy. For any of them. A feat, which, the rest of her kin in the war council apparently couldn’t manage.

“One would think he would have turned her.” Of course, she still could have perished as an immortal. The fact that he didn’t, her wishes aside, meant he accepted inevitably losing her at some point. Which only made his reaction all the more foolish.

‘Okay’ The young vampire relented. Visibly relieved by her confirmation. It was cute. How readily she believed her master was capable of such things. Though, she supposed, it was a situation they all thought they’d never be in. A question that that she’d assumed would never have to be asked in the first place. Yet, here they were.
‘But how is it going to be done?’

Now, they moved on to her role in this. They didn’t seem too convinced, though, with Niamh immediately seemingly jumping to concern. Even going as far to offer to let her stay with them. Completely disregarding the deal they’d struck earlier in the night. Albeit, with good intentions.

Niamh held her ground against Cyrus and his common sense. Carmilla smiled, genuinely touched by her sudden concern for her wellbeing.

“I’ll be fine.” She reassured. “I’m sure can handle myself, love.”
 
Dracula kept the key in his hand for the time being, as he led back to the open door. He would keep it opened wide until Evelynne had passed through, only then closing it behind the fair dhampir, only as far as it had been before. It would never be fully closed. Evelynne did not seem certain if she would stay.

The end of the war may determine quite a bit, for all of them.

A weak smile did cross his lips at her mention of Cezar, and Hector. “I imagine there will be more like Cezar in the coming days,” though Cezar had been with Hector quite a while, and had been one of the few pets to stay with him, he knew that Cezar was not the only animal that Hector had in his life. No doubt, he might have a desire to keep others here, given the sheer size of the place.

It might be…nice.

It was somehow all too easy to imagine an undead cat curled up on a lap, or a snake twining around the stair bannisters, happy as could be.

Isaac would hate it, but he would tolerate it. By then, the other vampires would all be gone.

The library, and the laboratory, were not far from the study. That had been a purposeful decision in those early years when Lisa was in his life. He had told himself it was to make sure he could keep an eye on her, before accepting it was to be close to her, and be able to walk to her if he heard anything go wrong. It was just a floor down, and underneath, the study. Not too close to be intrusive, but not too far. He could hear much, easily.

“This room,” he indicated as they came into that hall, all of them closed. This door did not stand out from the others, despite the intricate wooden engravings and the golden handle. He unlocked it, and pushed it open, revealing a room with a single large bed, a vanity and drawers, and a few other niceties. The hues were more earth-toned than anything, neutral. “There is a restroom within this hall as well, two doors down. I will leave it open,” it was quite a bit more than most humans, and even some vampires, had used.

He had taken inspirations from Rome in their understanding of sewage systems. Help from other vampires of that locale had seen it to being a wonderful invention of flowing, clean water that could be adjusted to any heat, rather than simple chamber pots or wash basins.

And yet, he simply assumed Lucilla would have had such luxuries, so he did not consider it as something he should show off or explain the nuances off.

He had found Evelynne made her home in a library, and he suspected that would be of more interest to her. “If you will follow me down, I can show you where the library is,” as he said that, he did offer the key.

He would give her time to take a look around, if she desired, first.

~***~

Niamh still pouted, lips quivering a bit, “But we just met. And I like you.” Niamh was always quick to come to any determination of others. Sometimes, to her detriment. Antonia would not make that comment now.

“We must have faith in her,” Antonia reminded, “She believes she is capable of this role, and Dracula sees her as an ally. It is not a role any of us could play,” for their stances were well known, and that was not about to change. Antonia couldn’t play off a change of heart, nor did she desire to.

The days of the Roman Senate and those games were long done for, and Antonia did not desire their return. The treachery inherent in that system had been atrocious.

“But…if you do have some troubles, you’ll let us know, won’t you?” Niamh asked, then to Antonia, “We’d help her, right?”

“As we can,” it was a vague answer, really. There was not much to be done. Antonia would not storm Dracula’s castle to save a spy. She wouldn’t storm it for Cyrus, for that matter. “If she has need to leave, she is certainly welcome to join us.”

That much would likely quell some of Niamh’s anxieties about her newfound friend. After all, that meant if things went south, Carmilla could come back to them, and be safe. Assuming, of course, that she could actually escape whatever situation she found herself in that required her to leave in the first place.

That would be the difficult part. The leaving.

That was the difficult part for any spy, though. Carmilla knew the risks inherent in this, or so Antonia presumed. She had not shown herself to be terribly foolish. Perhaps a bit trusting – she had not asked anything of Antonia, only promised to provide her with information so that Antonia could take advantage of a situation if it arose.

Of course, if it all played out well, they’d be rid of Dracula. Antonia also had to trust the information, after all. She could be played, and she knew that, too.

Niamh did let out a little sigh of relief at that information, though, "Okay," she would relent then. Carmilla would be fine.
 
For a moment, Evelynne pictured a happy home full of excitable, half decayed animals. An odd scene, to be sure, but it inspired a semblance of what could’ve been happiness. She dwelled on this thought. Clung to it. It was a frail, nonsensical hope. But it was hope for a better future. One where she could be happy again.

The room she’d be occupying wasn’t far from where they’d departed from. ‘This room’ , he’d said. Opening the intricate door before him. Evelynne managed to peek through, her eyes glimmering inquisitively as she stole a glance at what could very easily become her permanent dwelling.

The door slowly swung open, revealing the room in its entirety. The dhampir paused, only cautiously entering once she was bade permission to do so. It was nice, far cozier than she’d expected. A welcome reprieve from the ominous atmosphere that seemed to permeate the castle walls.

Evelynne took a moment to just…envision it. A fire burning brightly in the hearth and a few personal luxuries scattered about. In time, this could be home.

The dhampir was positively delighted. Perhaps, she was romanticizing it a bit too much, but she didn’t care. Happily nodding when he’d explained where the other essential facilities were. He didn’t seem keen on elaborating, however, as immediately after he’d mentioned the library. Which admittedly, did pique her interest more than the washrooms.

“I’d very much like that.”

--

“I like you too.” Carmilla reassured. But she was, indeed, confident in her role. She had to be; doubt was a luxury she couldn’t afford. Not in an environment as delicate and hostile as the war council was going to be.

Their assistance was heartwarming, but little more than a hollow comfort. Carmilla knew once she passed the threshold into that castle, she was alone. Not even her own men would be following her into the lion’s den. She’d have her wits to rely on, that’s it.

“Thank you.” She accepted their offer nonetheless. After all, having a place to flee to if she were discovered was a lifesaving luxury. Given she could actually flee, of course. Dracula’s tolerance for any would be usurpers, she’d imagine, would be nonexistent. The best she could hope for would be a quick death, should escape not be a viable option.

“…But I’d rather think positively.” She’d said, drawing a contemplative breath. Positively, that is, her succeeding and making it out alive. Killing Dracula, and saving what they could of the world. And, of course, staking her claim on what remained once the smoke cleared.

That was her motivation, after all. She just needed to keep a level head and mind herself and everything would be fine.

“After all, what good am I dead?”
 
Though she did not make any notable sounds, no cooing or fawning, the expression on Evelynne’s face said enough. The room was to her liking. Perhaps, in the future, it would host different hues and a different decoration scheme, but for the time being, this seemed to make her happy. She nodded along with his words all too easily, and he wondered if she even heard them or if she was simply taking it all in.

No matter, she did respond to the words of the library, and he stepped back to allow her ample room out of her new space, and he walked ahead.

The laboratory was at the end of the hall, but adjacent to it was the library, easy enough for Lisa to always access from the laboratory. It had but one door, compared to the double-doored laboratory, and the ground space was not large – but the library was.

It towered up high, several floors wrapping around the room with bookshelves lining each floor, in a multiplicity of languages. Different covers, different parchments, spoke to the many places they had come from, and the many eras they were collected from, preserved here, protected from time’s wrath.

Some had been left out on desks, the beginnings of Lisa’s forgotten studies untouched. “There are many subjects,” he said, and gestured to an index near the center of that first floor, “That book contains information on each floor, and each genre. I have tried to keep a collection of each individual book, but I am behind,” he gestured to another book, open upon the desk, “but that is the most updated index I have for the books in this collection.”

It was…difficult to update texts about texts. Once completed, the second he got a new book, he had to start all over again to make sure the new book was recorded in the right area.

He had such time, once…no longer.

~***~

Niamh did beam at the reassurance, and Cyrus rolled his eyes, but he wouldn’t comment on it. It was hard not to like Niamh, really. Antonia gave the small nod of acknowledgment to Carmilla’s gratitude. Nothing else needed to be said on that. If Carmilla did indeed play her role, and was found for it, then she was truly an ally. One with army. One worth protecting.

Still, thinking positively was better, although when Carmilla asked what was likely meant to be a rhetorical question, Antonia answered, “Martyrs have been quite useful for many causes,” perhaps Carmilla was not yet so attuned to her own sense of humor, but nonetheless, she offered the flippant comment. “I’d rather not go about making any if we can avoid it, of course.” She tempered it a bit.

People didn’t like to know how useful they could be dead. Usually. “So we shall think positively, and act as we can to see to it that it is our foes who die. When do you plan to head out to meet with Dracula?”

Antonia presumed it would be soon. She doubted Carmilla would stay in this town longer than the day. They would be stuck here when day arrived, but after that, she was free to head out, much as Antonia was. Unless Carmilla planned to travel before dawn hit; Antonia would hardly have cause to stop her. Were it not for this small visit, she may have planned the same. She was used to being cooped up in her carriage for the day travel.
 
Evelynne stole one, final glance at her would-be quarters. It felt good knowing that her life hadn’t completely fallen through. Yet. She had an awful habit of always expecting the worst, so when things actually worked out it was a mostly pleasant surprise.

She drew a deep, comforting breath. The library, then. Evelynne could only imagine what grand curiosities awaited her there. She chose to focus on that. That, and the future she had here. A cozy, stormy evening spent alone in the library ahead. A day idly conversing with Hector, and, of course, showering Cezar with all the love he deserved. Trivial things. Things to distract her from the inevitable chaos of the coming weeks.

Evelynne dutifully followed Dracula down the corridor. Her gaze wandering towards the intricate double doors of what she’d presumed belonged to the library.
As they’d approached them and come to a halt, her intuition would be proved correct. Curiously, she’d hesitate behind her guide. Eagerly watching him as he’d undid the lock and unveiled the magnificent library inside.

Instantaneously, the smell of old leather, faintly burning wicks, and nostalgia overwhelmed her senses. The interior was beyond anything she could have imagined. Even with the distant shelves little more than a glimmering spectrum of color, she found herself in near total awe.
‘There are many subjects’

Dracula’s usual, deep tone would snap her from her stupor. Directing her attention to a certain tome resting among many others on a table near the middle of the room. He’d explained that it was index of everything he’d collected thus far, but had admittedly fallen behind. Evelynne would give a soft, contemplative hum in response. There was so much work here. Countless years and tomes wrapped up and documented between these aged leather bindings. It was astounding.

Her gaze would flit to one that lay splayed upon the table just as Dracula mentioned it. According to him, it was the most recently updated among them. From here, she could make out some blank spaces where names, authors, and other little tidbits were neatly written down. That’s when it dawned on her.

“…I could work on them for you.” It’d come so suddenly, even she’d almost seemed surprised. Evelynne spent many of her days organizing and tidying Lucilla’s library when she was bored. Immortality could be painfully tedious, after all. This would be fun for her – and might give her something actually productive, albeit trivial, to do.

----

Martyr. The word would earn a soft, discontented hum from the vampiress. She knew it was said in jest. Mostly. But Carmilla hardly planned on being a mere “honorable” mention in whatever story Speakers told of Dracula’s downfall.

‘I’d rather not go about making any if we can avoid it, of course.’

“Of course.” She’d said, merely tacking on her response. “I’ll be departing for the castle tomorrow evening. As soon as the sun sets.” The subject of martyrdom was quickly and willingly forgotten. For now. “I have an ally who’s going to be keeping me updated on its position on his trek through Wallachia. So, thankfully, I can afford to waste a little time here.”

“I – “

Marcellus leaned forward, silencing his master mid sentence. A whisper would pass his lips and Carmilla’s features would shift; quite suddenly taking on a much more serious expression. She hadn’t even noticed them walking in, but thankfully, he had.

Apparently, in the midst of their revelry, three men had made their way in and settled at a table near them. But not too close. They were shamelessly glaring at them but had shifted their attention to her. If only looks could kill.

By the way they’d so brazenly sized her up, she could tell they weren’t quite the typical human one would see just idly wandering on the street. No, there was intent in their eyes; and they held themselves with a certain confidence that made even her blood run cold.

“It would appear we’ve drawn some attention.”
 
Dracula’s dark brows rose slowly, his red eyes returning to focus on the woman at his side as she offered to pick up where he left off in recording the information in the library. He would not have asked it of her. It was a tedious job that he tended to go about once every couple of centuries, himself, when he got particularly frustrated with new technology, inventions, or magic. Sometimes stepping away for a few years was enough to clear his head so he could go back to it.

Or it helped him to stumble upon the book that he needed.

Still, the library was in need of upkeep. “I would not force you to do it, but if you find you desire to bring the records up to date, I certainly will not stop you. I am unlikely to acquire any new material for a while, as it is,” not during his war. There would be no time to stop and pick up new literature.

Perhaps it would be one thing he missed, if he ever thought about it. While writing was not exclusive to humanity, humanity certainly wrote far more than any other species, and of such a myriad of topics. His own kind, of course, wrote things, but he often found that he didn’t much care for their variety of literature unless it was the scientific or magical – research.

Their poetry and novels left something to be desired.

“I would understand if you chose not to pursue this after a few days,” he noted. This would be a task that she could easily leave behind, “there are many more exciting things to do,” and the books themselves would desire to be read, after all.

~***~

Antonia was not at all surprised at the planned departure. She would stay until then, even with the temptation to leave before dawn on her mind, given the presence of the church. Carmilla seemed to think it safe enough, although that safety threatened to shift in a moment, as Carmilla was interrupted from continuing.

Antonia arched a brow, but did not interrupt. She was filled in soon enough by body language, before words. Her gaze shifted to the ones sizing up Carmilla. It wasn’t the look of lust the predators had, but hatred, and there was enough to their attire to speak of their nature. “Mmm, so it seems. Who’s attention do we have?” She looked to Cassion.

This area might not be his locale, but he knew hunters.

“Sabbatarians,” specialists to the Romanian region, thanks to Dracula. Not a family of hunters like the Belmonts, “the shape of their crosses gives it away.” A secret guild of the Church, like the not-so-secret Malleus Maleficarum – far more than just a book. “I’ll wake Lynn.” He pushed himself out of his seat, as Antonia rose.

Far be it from her to avoid when she’d intimidated plenty of so-called Church assassins before. She’d rather intimidate them than fight; the last thing she needed was for Dracula to become aware of her presence in Romania because of a noteworthy event.

And so as Cassion left the area, she approached three men, and pulled the empty fourth chair before one of the men could slam his leg down on it to halt her. She gave him a dull look before taking that seat, “Might I join you?”

“Seems a bit late to be asking that,” the one off to the left noted, a bit startled that a vampire would so easily step into their midst, and take a seat at their table. Well within reach of holy water and all manner of other holy objects.

They didn’t know most to be the ‘talking’ sort. Even with a crowd.
 
Exciting. There were always more exciting things to do. Though, rarely, did they entice her. Evelynne liked boring. Boring was predictable, a small comfort to an easily worried soul.

Once the war council was assembled, peace of mind was going to become a scarcity in these halls. She didn’t yet know the extent of her involvement in all this. She’d just assumed that Dracula recognized her as unfit for anything having to do with his war, and would be content in knowing she’d be content doing something trivial whilst they conducted the affair.

Her work here, and the space she occupied in doing it, was uniquely her own. Dracula had no way of knowing, but it was this kind of stability Evelynne craved. A place where she could just be, and idly browse or toil away her days in relative comfort until the war was inevitably won.

“I don’t mind.” Truly, she didn’t. Evelynne even found it a bit odd that he would try and dissuade her from it. “I have forever, after all.”

A poorly constructed joke made at the expense of her supposed immortality. She tried to bring herself to chuckle. But with her innate sense of uncertainty, it fell off a bit awkwardly. As most things tended to.

Evelynne would sigh. Her pale, fatigued gaze being redirected to the one of the doors of the room that still remained slightly ajar. If given the opportunity, she’d likely stay here the remainder of the night. Settling in would take time, after all. And, admittedly, she could only really comfortably do so out of his presence.

She felt as if his cold, crimson glare hadn’t left her since they’d entered this particular wing of the castle. It made her nervous. They’d only just met a few hours ago, and his visage was still unfamiliar. Imposing.

Only time and familiarity could ever ease these qualms. But, for now, it was unavoidable. Something to be uneasily dealt with but never really acknowledged until that day finally came.

“Did you…” Evelynne begun again. “Did you want me to accompany you in retrieving Isaac?” She was surprised she’d remembered his name at all.

And she didn’t even know why she’d asked. Perhaps, it was a subtle way of indicating she’d rather stay here. Having too little of a resolve to actually go against his wishes should he actually want her to go for whatever reason.

“Because, if not, I’d like some time to settle in as well.”


/////


Carmilla’s usual air of confidence had wavered ever so slightly. There was something sobering in having not just one, but a troupe of hunters draw near without any of them noticing. An array of consecrated items at their disposal that could have done serious damage to any one of them should they have chosen to do so.

Antonia, however, didn’t seem perturbed in the slightest. It made sense. She was familiar with their breed and seemed more than willing to call a bluff. At least, that’s how Carmilla had perceived it.

It was admirable – refreshing even. To watch these supposed holy men exchange unsettled glances between themselves. Uncertain of what they were going to do with having been approached by such a brazen vampiress. They were surprisingly tolerant of her advance, but that could all change in an instant.

“Stay.” Her men shared a fleeting, concerned glance between themselves. But obeyed as their master rose from her seat.

A soft hum would escape her as she, again, glanced them over. The last thing they needed was something break out here. Word would spread quickly, after all; and everything would fall apart. Intimidation was the game and they’d have to play it perfectly. That is, until, Cassion returned with whomever he’d gone to retrieve.

“Nonsense.” Carmilla purred with that all too familiar lilt. Her rubied lips curling into a false, borderline provocative grin as she found her way to Antonia’s side.

Unlike her, she’d chosen to not take up a chair. A clawed hand would instead find the table, ever so slightly digging into the cheap wood it was forged from.

The men visibly tried to steel themselves. After all, they could just as easily rip out their throats as they could douse them with holy water. It was quite the odd stalemate.

“Besides, you look like you could use some interesting company.”
 
Dracula’s lips curved ever so slightly at the joke of her immortality. It was true – she had forever, presuming, of course, she was not slain in some fashion. Even so, he could not imagine the majority of vampires, or dhampirs, would take delight in using their time to update a library. Even he found it tedious most of the time, though the mood did come over him, now and then.

He would not dissuade her if it was what she desired.

As it seemed, right then, that settling in was what she desired. It was a small comfort he was allowing to Hector, as well. He shook his head, “There is no need for you to come if you do not wish to,” he would not be able to go immediately, though he would move the castle there. Outside, it would likely be day. Isaac and Hector weren’t too far apart, even if separated by an ocean.

The sun had already been close to coming up with Hector.

It would not be a good idea to venture out to get Hector with that timeline in mind.

He would not ask Hector to come, either. He could introduce Isaac after he had gone to get him, and brought him back. There was the chance that Isaac would not be so friendly if he brought guests with him, regardless. “I shall leave you to get settled in. Should you find that there is anything you require, I can be found in my study.”

He did not know if either Hector or herself would want anything more.

Though Evelynne seemed to have lived in luxury, she also seemed rather prepared to live in a state of less than that. Hector was likely already nearly overwhelmed; it might have been amusing to watch him go through his space and try to determine what to do with all of the space. His reactions to the larger castle would also likely be some small source of entertainment, if Dracula had desired it.

He did step back, and if there was no cause to stop, or wait, given by Evelynne, he would indeed do as he said and turn to leave her to settle in to this area and come to know what would pass as her residence for a while.

He did not imagine if she’d ever truly find it to be a home. Even Lisa had not found it to be that.

~***~

Carmilla came to join Antonia, not sitting, but remaining standing. Her nails spoke well enough for her, digging into the wood to remind them of the strength even a seemingly-frail vampire like Carmilla held. Antonia would offer no displays of power; it was unnecessary. The hunters knew what they looked upon.

The central one spoke up, “You are the sort of company we had expected to find here.” Boldness was met with boldness. Antonia just arched a brow. At least they seemed willing enough not to cause a scene, perhaps they could then be reasoned with? “Perhaps you’d be willing to step out with us?”

“And if we weren’t interested?”

“Well, we can always wait until morning.”

Not exactly the answer any vampire wanted to hear. Hunters held the advantage in the day no matter what – one broken wall and a stream of sunlight could finish off a vampire all too easily, or provide just the opening that the hunter needed. The inn didn’t exactly offer anything beyond wood walls, and windows that had to be covered.

Out of the corner of her eye, Antonia noted Cassion return with the other human in the group, Roderick, who looked quite displeased to be awake and moreso as his gaze came to the table where they were at.

“I was hoping to sleep through the day,” Antonia said, “I suppose I could just leave, if that would be preferable.” Her carriage did help protect with the sun, the only way such lengthy travel was possible. She wasn’t fortunate enough to have a castle like Dracula.

“I’m afraid these matters actually need to be dealt with, prior to your leaving.”

“Do they?” Antonia hummed. So many hunters would have just been glad to see her gone. “Well then, if that’s the case,” she leaned back, a slight gesture of her hand.

The liquid in the left man’s cup suddenly heated to boiling, and splashed right up into his face, as Niamh caught the gesture.

He fell back out of his chair, startled and burned, as the other two both quickly left their own seats.

Antonia had no reason to play subtle; the inn was compromised. She’d have to leave immediately after dealing with these hunters. She imagined the Church had others besides them who might prefer to wait until day.
 
“Oh.” Evelynne softly exclaimed. “Alright.”

With that, the elder vampire turned back towards the double doors they’d come from. He left without another word. Not even sparing her a second glance as he passed the threshold into the hallway. Evelynne, however, couldn’t bring herself to look away. Dracula held her exclusive attention until he’d closed the door behind him, the soft click it’d made seemingly snapping her from the trance.

Heavy footfall echoed from the hall. Gradually growing faint as the vampire presumably made his way back to his study. Silence soon befell the library, and Evelynne found herself merely lingering where he’d left her. Unsure of exactly what to do now he’d obliged her request and actually left her to settle.

It’d taken her a moment to gather herself. Once she did, however, she set to wandering about in search of a piece of literature to occupy her morning. All manner of books lined these shelves. Yet, she hadn’t bothered using the index he’d provided. The notion of happening across something was particularly seductive to her. Especially here, where she was beyond spoilt for choice. Feeling akin to a glutton at a great feast.

Gradually, she’d weave her way through the library. Her fingers idly grazing the spines of a few books as she’d passed by them. They were all quite interesting. It seemed that no two were the same, with an individual charm imbued within each one.

Eventually, she’d come to a section of books wrapped in a dark leather. They stood out from the rest; their respective titles scribed in matte black ink down the length of their spines. They were intricate. Inviting.

The dhampir found herself reaching for one. The first of the row slid off the shelf into her pale hands. It was thick and had a bit of weight to it, and the leather itself was smooth to the touch.

‘The Business of Wolves of Sheep.’ It read.

Creative. Evelynne, curious, would flip to a random section inside. The paper was slightly tinted with time, but the scent of fresh ink still permeated from its pages. The print was small, but neat. Extending all the way down the page in a pleasingly consistent manner.

This chapter, it seemed, was based entirely around consecration and the effects of sanctified objects used against unholy flesh. Evelynne felt her heart sink into her stomach. She didn’t dare read more; impulsively closing the book as she drew a deep, steadying breath.

The only comfort was in knowing that soon, they’d all be dead. These accursed things and the evil that came with them would fade into history, becoming as harmless as the words written on the page.

Despite its content, Evelynne decided to keep this particular piece. It could be insightful in ways her mother, or even Lucilla, had never been. Even she wasn’t exactly sure what she was and how she fit into the world. Maybe…it was time she learned.

The choice was made and Evelynne would make her way back to the double doors of the library. She quietly slipped out into the hall, ever mindful to close the door in her wake. Already, she was making a conscious effort to keep her presence here an invisible one. After all, Dracula’s study wasn’t too far away. He was likely tending to sensitive business, and the man deserved his peace.

Evelynne returned to the room she’d been allotted. Once inside, she’d slip off her heels and lock the door. The bed beckoned her. Promising the first semblance of tangible comfort since she’d left her castle.

The dhampir wearily approached, placing the book on a nearby table instead of bringing it with her. This morning, it would find no use. She needed rest.

Her body would just…plop down on the bed. Her figure was hugged tightly by the dress she wore, making both movement and comfort difficult when lying down. However, she was far too tired to mourn her lost wardrobe. As within mere minutes of snuggling onto the blanket rather than into it, she’d drift off into a deep, dreamless sleep.



///////



The commotion drew the attention of the entirety of the tavern. Confusion, concern, and panic soon set into the townspeople that lingered around them. Drunk and afraid, some ran with the hunters. Others were ensnared by their fear or curiosity; and only a few dropped everything to help. Forgoing their fear of the unknown for the sake of the injured.

A small group of people surrounded the writhing hunter. In his pained throes, he was very nearly unintelligible. They were worried. It was evident by the concern etched on their collective features. But, they simply didn’t know how to help.

His supposed brothers in arms, however, seemed keen on forsaking him. Carmilla caught a glimpse of them struggling through the crowd that had joined them in fleeing.

Given the opportunity they’d surely retreat back to wherever their little sect had laid its roots and return with a vengeance. If they were going to be properly dealt with, it needed to happen now.

Carmilla took it upon herself to act. Normally, it was rare for her to take matters like this into her own hands or to strike on impulse. But this required finesse her men couldn’t manage. A personal touch.

The first one hadn’t even seen her coming until it was far too late. Through the crowd she wove, striking so fast many of the humans hadn’t even perceived her presence among them. One swift movement was all it took to incapacitate him. His body fell to the ground with a dull thump. The sound drawing attention of those nearby

There was no obvious signs of injury, but with the way he’d fallen it was obvious that he was dead. Neck twisted round with still fearful eyes still glaring upwards. The second was dispatched in a similar manner. He, too, was dead before the hit the ground. His body gracelessly tumbling across the floor as if he’d merely tripped.

Now, true panic ensued. Those who’d witnessed the event quickly fled to avoid sharing the same fate. The place cleared within a few minutes, leaving them more or less alone to deal with the parting pleasantries.

“Well…” Carmilla huffed as she gazed down upon their lifeless bodies. “I suppose we should hurry. The sun is fast rising, and once they figure out their little scouts aren’t coming back they’ll be up in arms.”

It was unfortunate they had to cut their visit so short. Carmilla was, indeed, enjoying herself here among them. There would be another time, however. After all was said and done.

“Shall I have my men help you make preparations?” After all, they’d just settled in earlier in the night. The least she could do was offer some of her manpower.

“In the meantime, we can settle a few things before I take my leave for the castle.”
 
The hours of the sun passed uneventfully. Dracula had returned to his study, after moving the castle, and there he stayed to look upon the flames, and remember his hatred. It burned with each flicker of the fire. Each crackle from the wood reminded her of the screams of Lisa, screams he had not personally heard, but screams he could imagine in his nightmares. He could remember the charred remnants of her body, the ashes of the wood, and all the people who had still been there long after she was dead.

Soon, very soon, he would return there.

He had given them a year, and he would be precise, down to the second.

He was on his last steps now. He had his own army of demons, of course, but he would need so much more, and as the mirror showed the sun beginning to set outside the castle, he rose, and he left the castle alone.

Ifriqiya was just outside, a woefully hot place even with the sun down. The desert would cool, and it was the outskirts of those deserts that Dracula had placed his castle. He would cross it until he reached the home of Isaac, and reintroduced himself to the man who had pledged his loyalty to him, once upon a time. A man who was as interested in many of the magical things of the world, having traveled to Tunisia to learn more of the Sufi practices and Sufi mysticism, thinking it may aid his own understanding of the magic he wielded from birth.

Isaac had as little as Hector to bring with him, but Dracula still showed him to his own quarters to put away his things, before bringing him to Hector to introduce the pair of them.

It was a cool meeting, and when they left, Isaac cleared his throat.

“He seems childish.”

Dracula gave a nod, “Yes, it is unfortunate, but his life has left him this way.”

“He does not seem to share our hatred of humanity.” When Dracula did not acknowledge that, Isaac pressed, “What have you told him, Dracula?”

Dracula’s red eyes cut across to Isaac, and with an almost rueful smile touching the edges of his lips, he answered, “Hector believes we will cull the human population and cage it. Like animals.”

Isaac’s eyes narrowed a bit. “You are lying to him.”

Dracula sighed, “I am omitting details, but…yes, I suppose I am.” It was necessary, though, and he believed that Hector would see his way, eventually.

Isaac shook his head, but judged no further. “Who is it you want me to meet now?”

“A new arrival, a dhampir by the name of Evelynne who has also suffered at the hands of humans. She was living with a vampiress named Lucilla, who was slain by a Belmont hunter. She survived.”

“Can she fight like your son?” A beat, “Where is Master Adrian?”

Dracula’s expression darkened. “He is gone.” Regret touched the edges of his gaze, his voice. He did not believe he had killed Adrian, but…all the same, he was gone.

“Oh. I am sorry.” Dracula was paused by a hand to his arm, “To have lost both son and wife so soon. I grieve with you.”

Dracula’s gaze seemed to take in the words, and weigh them for some form of sincerity. Isaac’s expressions were always muted, always controlled, that one could think him either too sincere, or entirely insincere. Dracula leaned to him being sincere. Isaac was not a good liar. And so, he shook his head to dismiss it, and with a slight shrug of his shoulder, moved forward, on towards the area where Evelynne was. “In regards to the earlier query…I do not think Evelynne is much of a fighter.”

“She survived a Belmont?”

“Luck.” More than anything else.

~***~

Antonia had expected an attack, but they ran instead. She was almost amused by it, except that it meant a pursuit. Fortunately, Carmilla seemed more than capable of managing that on her own, so Antonia simply snapped her fingers and set to blaze the bodies as they fell.

It was always good to eliminate evidence…and destroy whatever holy items they might have on them. The flames tinted blue as they came in contact with those items, but the fire did not end up being destroyed or weakened; a perk of being a vampire from a demon meant a certain strength or equality to the holy. She was weak to it, yes, but her powers were on the same level of it and when matched in such a fashion, she tended to win with her focus over the flames. Especially given her foes were dead, and the items simply that – items. They had not focus or control of their own.

The fire would not spread beyond the bodies. She wasn’t here to burn this place down.

Antonia moved to her own allies, “Prepare the carriage,” she indicated to Cassion and Roderick. Better the humans go out and tend to such a thing.

If the screams and running didn’t alert the church, or the group, that something had gone wrong, she wasn’t sure what would.

Cassion nodded, “Immediately.” Not that the emphasis was needed.

Roderick offered her a blade, her own gladius that he had taken with him when she opted to go without weapons to Carmilla, and she took it, leaving her whip at his own hip without a demand for it. It was usually better used on vampires. The gladius itself glinted in an unusual way, suggesting the metal was not natural, or else enchanted in some fashion. A close look would reveal plenty of glyphic work into the blade, and when it touched her hand, a black-flame surrounded it, one that could almost be mistaken for lingering smoke.

Cassion and Roderick moved as Carmilla started to speak, addressing the situation as it was now.

“My men can handle it,” Antonia stated. “My horses are a bit…picky.” Purposefully so. She’d rather a vampire not get kicked, or a horse end up maimed because of that. “Send your men to prepare for your own leave,” that seemed a better use of her time. Everything Antonia needed was right here, and she had two human assistants who could move in the sun.

She did move to where Carmilla was, the flames dying from the corpses. “Outside,” she gestured casually. Perhaps there was more of a threat out there to any discussion, but better they see it than be surprised while surrounded by useless wooden walls. Whatever was left to settle, they could do so while keeping an eye to the time, and the threats around them.
 
Despite the relatively nerve-wracking evening she’d had, Evelynne slept soundly. Not even the castle’s eventual relocation roused her. It was only once the sun set and dusk had begun to settle on the horizon did she stir again.

Scarred eyes would gracelessly flutter open and her consciousness would gradually begin to return. Remnants of a dream still lingered somewhere in the haze. The feeling it’d left her with was uncannily familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it. An old comfort, maybe? Long since lost but not quite forgotten. Trying to recall it was fruitless, as it was gone the second she’d rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

For some time, Evelynne would just lay there. Staring idly up at the unfamiliar ceiling as the reality of her situation finally begun to bear down on her.

Usually, by now, she would’ve begun her evening routine. Firstly, a bath. Not only to cleanse the flesh but soothe the soul. Reminiscing on it now was a dream. The scent of dried lavender and moonflower bring so vivid she’d swear she could actually smell it. It was nostalgic. So much so that it’d left her longing once she managed to snap out of the trance.

Then, naturally, came a change of clothing. The thought of her once vast wardrobe made her current ensemble feel…itchy. What she’d give for even one spare dress or robe to alternate between. Knowing every piece would sit untouched, collecting dust until they were inevitably stolen made her heart sink. They were once coveted gifts, after all.

Evelynne wasn’t even sure if the pit forming in her core was from regret or hunger. By now, if she’d felt up to it, she’d usually have prepared a meager meal.

Her stores, whatever Lucilla had left behind, were very nearly depleted. Thinking back on it now made her stomach knot with worry. Her lack of food was a very real concern the last time she woke up.

Evelynne knew it was madness to think it. But starvation was a familiar worry. Something she’d come to accept a long time ago. There, she was only biding her time until the inevitable happened. Yet, somehow, she felt more willing to face that rather another day than what lay ahead tonight.

Finally, after what could’ve been an hour of fruitless wallowing, she’d sit up and glance towards the door. She wondered what Dracula had occupied himself with since she’d laid down. And what of Hector?

Evelynne forced herself to her feet, feebly stretching her limbs as she’d done so. The vanity beckoned from across the room. Yet, she didn’t succumb to its temptation. As it’d taken only a glimpse of her frazzled visage in its mirror to utterly dissuade her. Perhaps

Listlessly, she’d drift back to the door and slip back into her heels. She’d figured it wouldn’t be healthy to dawdle in her quarters the first night. She owed it to herself to at least try and form a semblance of a routine. To actually settle here like she’d so desperately hoped.

Apprehensively, Evelynne would step outside into the hallway and gently close the door in her wake. She hadn’t heard the footfall in the corridor adjacent until it was far too late.

Halfway down the hall she’d pause and hold her breath. The distinctive sound now reverberating throughout the walls. She could only turn, eyes wide with surprise, and try to present herself with a semblance of composure.



---------



Carmilla gave a yielding hum, allowing Antonia to lead her outside whilst their men set to making preparations. Around them, people fled in a blind panic. If the church didn’t know they were here before, they certainly knew now. She’d imagine they were rallying who they could to strike when day broke. Unfortunately, it’d seem they’d have to keep their farewells short.

“It’s a shame it had to end this way.” The vampiress purred, a genuine hint of disappointment in her tone. “I was having quite the time.”

Negotiations, drinks, all wrapped up with flaming bodies. Quite the time indeed.

It was rare for Carmilla to genuinely get on with her allies. However, she’d found herself pleasantly surprised that not only she, but her soldiers had enjoyed their little visit.

Though, she did feel a twinge of guilt for having forced them out of town so soon. She couldn’t quite shake the feeling that somehow this was her doing. With her men stationed throughout the city, it would’ve been easy for one or two to have been careless and drawn a bit of unwanted attention. One vampire alone was enough to rouse the wrath of the hunters, and they’d scour every inch under their influence to ensure the safety of the sheep. If that were the case, then there was a very real possibility that she’d lost a few of her numbers. Unfortunate.

“…But we really must be going.” After all, without the luxury of a carriage, Carmilla couldn’t afford to linger. She’d preemptively set aside a quaint little place outside of the city for just this occasion, but she needed to depart as soon as possible if she was going to beat the rising sun.

Her guardsmen approached with their steeds, all mounted but one. Marcellus offered her the reigns and she’d claim her gilded steed, soon following suit.

“I’ll let you know once we arrive. Shouldn’t take more than a half a night’s ride. Maybe less” Carmilla playfully scoffed. “Unless he moves it…again.” Her tone would insinuate that tracking the castle had been a feat in itself. Though, thankfully soon that’d be a worry of the past. Given Godbrand comes through.

Carmilla would mentally scoff at herself for entrusting something so important with him. She could only hope he proved content for once in his life. It wasn’t worth fretting over. Yet.

“Farewell, Lady Antonia. I do hope to hear from you soon.”

With that, the vampiress and her men begun to coax their horses through the crowd. Moving northward towards their temporary dwelling.
 
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