Timeline: Post-Castlevania: Lament of Innocence
Warnings: None, though I suppose there's implications of m/m relations.
Disclaimer: Not mine, obviously.
Comments: Written during a few hours of downtime while at my office - it's the only time I have to write these days - so please excuse any errors. I write to amuse myself during hours of boredom.

Acheron

There had been no hero's welcome for Leon Belmont. No honour, or glory to be had in this empty victory. For though he had defeated the vampire lord, he had been unable to save those closest to him and in that fact he had failed.

Sara's mortal remains slept within the cold ground mere steps away from where she had met her end at the hands of her betrothed. Her father's petition to have her exhumed & buried in her family's sepulchre had been denied, the local bishop calling her a concubine of the Devil whose Christian soul had fled her body the moment she took part in the unholy communion of drinking a vampire's blood.

The man he had known as Mathias Cronqvist had died that night, as well; an empty coffin lay beside his beloved Elisabetha within the crypt engraved with his likeness and an epitaph naming him a noble man of god, loving husband, and truest friend. All things Mathias had been in life and everything he had forsaken in this pale travesty of death. His manor and lands had been bequeathed to his attendants a final act that left Leon puzzled and heartbroken with the thought that even in his hatred and madness some part of his oldest friend still remained within the demon he had become.

There were rumours, of course, hushed whispered speculation concerning the circumstances of his death, but in time they faded until even Leon Belmont could not be entirely certain of the truth. It was easier to pretend that his oldest friend had died along with Sara and that his bitterness, his righteous hatred was simply for some demon who had stolen them from him.

Leon had spent the first years following the death of his betrothed hellbent on destroying those cursed creatures of the night, driven by his righteous fury, shutting his heart and mind off while living in a type of denial. He had fought endlessly, recklessly but as the years and his duty to continue on his bloodline weighed down upon him, Leon had lost himself. The bitterness consumed him and he took solace in nothing but his pain. Though he had eventually married out of necessity, the desire to produce an heir to carry on his cursed vow, Leon took no joy in their union. He treated her well and with great respect but he could not say he loved her. That part of his heart had long since been buried.

She had given him a son, a small frail thing with his father's eyes. But she had come to regret it, to realize that he was barely a son to his father but rather an instrument and it had become the source of their unhappiness.

'Sabine.' Leon breathed her name, light eyes catching a glimpse of his wife as she entered the room. She was a wasted beauty, a lady of Gentry four years his senior and once widowed by the Crusades. At one point he supposed she had been truly beautiful, a slender wisp of a woman with dark hair and grey eyes but she had never possessed the same graceful kindness of his Sara.

Moving further into the room, Sabine set her hands against the desk in which Leon was seated, fingertips brushing against loose parchment before catching on the corner of a map, 'It has to end' Her voice was weary for this had become an oft discussed topic.

Leon did not respond instead turning his attention to some discarded texts scattered across the desk. She didn't understand, couldn't understand because it had nothing to do with her and how she was led to believe the world worked. He could not fault her for that for he had once shared in those beliefs. To be born, to marry, to live a life according to God's will and to eventually die. But what was life when demons disguised themselves as friends? Where was God when Sara had been taken?

After the birth of his son, Leon had tried to be a loving husband and father but he had known what world this child had been born into. One full of hatred, lies, evil. And in this world, his son must understand the gravity of loss, the deception of betrayal or else he would have no purpose. The boy knew no different. Guided by Leon's hand, he had been taught swordplay and archery and the art of destroying the undead.

'Leon, we cannot continue this way.' Leaning toward him, she grasped his wrist forcing him to pay attention to her. 'Look at me.' She demanded, her frustration quickly fading to pity when Leon raised his face to her, '... look at yourself.' His eyes were shadowed from lack of sleep and premature grey had etched itself into his light hair and she feared that Death would take him all too soon. 'I do not wish to be made a widow again.'

He brushed off her words, freeing his hand from hers. 'You chose to be my wife.'

Indeed, she had. What lady would have had him after what fate had befallen Sara Trantoul? While she'd never met the girl, Sabine had heard how she had been loved; such a sweet kind soul ravaged by a vampire. The stigma that had followed was one the Belmont would never escape.

What she had not chosen was to allow their son to become a casualty of his father's obsession. The boy was still too young to truly understand what his father expected of him, but Leon was grooming him, instilling him with that same righteous hatred, so determined was he to end the cursed existence of his once friend. Sabine had spoke against it often, insisting that the child needed his father's love, but her words had fallen on deaf ears.

'I have come to understand many things since that time.' She began, eyes softening as she watched Leon fully return her gaze for the first time since she had entered. It broke her heart to see him this way. Things had always been difficult between them; Leon had been a disaster of misdirected emotions and reactions when they first had wed. So much hurt had been buried beneath his anger but at the time she had foolishly deluded herself into believing that perhaps one day he would finally be able to let go of his hatred. And for a time, she truly believed he had. But then came the endless nights spent pouring over arcane literature, diaries, and letters left behind by the tactician. Anything to shed some light on the nature of the vampire, any slip or cryptic message belaying Mathias' whereabouts. He returned to the Forest of Eternal Night, seeking out the creatures of darkness that still lingered in this terrible place. He would return to the manor at dawn, beaten and weary, barely clinging to his composure for those creatures of darkness were not the only demons Leon faced within its shadowy depths. She would not sit by idly and watch her husband condemn their child to this same sad fate.

Leon turned away from her once more, fingertips pressing against his temples as if to relieve some pressure building there. 'There is a history here that you cannot understand.' He had not been there to save Mathias' soul once. Had not seen the darkness that feasted upon his despair. In his time of need, Leon had abandoned him and in spite of the betrayal, he knew that somehow, perhaps, he had deserved it. Brought it upon himself with his own selfishness. He would not abandon Mathias again. He would hunt him down for his guilt kept him bound to the oath he had sworn and he would willingly sacrifice his own life to free his once friend's soul from damnation. 'I was not there to prevent this ...' His voice was tired murmur.

'And so you would damn your only son?' Sabine knew well of her husband's intentions, but she could not allow it. While it was a son's duty to carry on his father's name and honour and wishes, she could not accept that her only child's future was one bathed in blood and filled with despair. And for what? Though he had not known the man who had once been Leon's dearest friend, she knew well that the demon's soul was bound to Hell. 'Mathias is outside the grace of God. You fight for nothing.' She sighed, acknowledging by her husband's apparent denial that their conversation was as futile as his vow.

Cradling his head in his hands, Leon waited in silence for her leave. No matter how true he knew her words to be, he couldn't accept them. While some part of him would always hold the memory of their friendship close, he could not forgive him, could not overlook how Mathias had systematically destroyed his life, but he could try to save his soul and give him peace by killing the monster he had become.

He would end it as quickly as possible, freeing his entrapped soul from its suffering. But sometimes Leon's mind was filled with dark visions of coiling the whip around Mathias' pale throat, cursing the demon as he enacted all his vengeance and rage, violently strangling the unnatural life out of him. With Mathias at rest, there would be no purpose to Leon's existence and so he hoped that Death would take him too.

Standing, Leon moved across the room to look out over the frozen landscape cast an eerie blue by the waning moonlight. 'Mathias.' He murmured, fingertips misting warmth as he pressed them against the icy window pane. He wondered if he called for him now if he would come, offering him the same dark curse Leon had rejected years before. Mathias spurned had left him to Death.

In truth, Leon knew not where Mathias might be. He had lingered here thinking that perhaps Mathias would return to Elisabetha's grave but in the years following that terrible night he had seen no trace of him. There were no rumours of his whereabouts, no trace or sign, it was as though the man had simply vanished. Leon suspected at times that he had returned to the East for what place was left for him among these lands?

And just as Mathias had no place here, Leon knew that there truly was nothing for him either. He remained only because he knew no place else to go. Everything that had made this place his home had since been lost. All his life's works, all his piety, determination, desire to do the will of God, it had been for nothing. In the end the Church had forsaken him, stripped him of his knighthood, and denied his betrothed a proper Christian burial and eventually even his faith in God had faltered. Sometimes when he dared examine his own soul, he saw a shadowy wraith-like reflection of the darkness that had destroyed Mathias. He had won. He had made Leon question his faith.

Leon collapsed to his knees, sobbing in his frustration. 'Do you see what you've done?' He implored to no one. 'You have taken everything from me.' In the end, Leon truly knew what Mathias had felt. The rage, the absolute loss of everything, all he loved savagely ripped from him. 'Take me ... please ...' It was a desire he dared never think upon. It went against all that he had believed, all that he had sworn, his purpose for existence but he could no longer deny himself that some anguished part of him wished for this sin. How terrible would his existence have become had he accepted Mathias' offer to join him in unnatural death? The pain, the hate and grief would fade in time. He would never have had the opportunity to let the bitterness and contempt twist his heart until there was room for nothing else and so he would have learned to forgive Mathias his transgressions. In this moment, he would have surrendered his life and soul to darkness and prayed to any being that would hear his pleas.

Dejected, he wept for what may have been hours, letting all the regret he had locked within flow from him in tears while pleading desperately to both Heaven & Hell to give him but one moment with Mathias. He knew not what he might do if his prayer were granted. To see him, speak with him, tell him of his love, and sorrow, and hatred, and guilt, to beg him to change him and never abandon him again and then the desire to kill him, to destroy what he had become and release his soul so that they might die together. But Leon desired more than anything to simply know that Mathias had not forgotten him, that he still watched and waited and would return if he called regardless of the outcome.

But Mathias did not appear for he had left him to Death and Death was final.

Fin