Dreams, Memories and Visions Long Gone
By Cordelia Yang
Part I: Yesterday's Sorrows
The beautiful young man stared at the moldering, once proud façade of the Capital. His face was impassive as he urged the cyborg horse forward, and paused before the gate.
"Who are you, and what business brings you into the Capital?" The guard, dressed in military fatigues, enquired politely.
"My name is D. I am here to see a client." The guard's eyes widened in awe when he heard the name, but otherwise did not budge.
"Sorry, sir, but you need someone to vouch for you before you can get in. Any chance that you know your client's intercom number?" Before the exquisite young man could reply, his horse was jolted by a collision with a tall, thin person dressed in flowing black robes, with unkempt silver hair bundled back in a black ribbon. The person stood up, clutching his nose.
"Terribly sorry, how clumsy of me! I didn't see the horse. You aren't hurt?"
D's expression did not alter. "No."
"General Nightroad!" The guard snapped to attention and saluted. The man in robes smiled at the guard.
"Ah, Lieutenant Eris, isn't it? Good to see you. Why are you keeping," He gestured up to the impassive stranger on the horse, "this man waiting?"
"He doesn't have proper identification, sir. He says his name is D and he is here for a client."
The man in robes gave the beautiful stranger a once over. "You're Vampire Hunter D?"
"Yes."
"My name is Abel Nightroad. I'm the one who called you for this contract." Abel nodded to the guard, who opened the gate. D's expression remained impassive, but he dismounted and they entered the city gates together, with D leading his cyborg horse behind him.
"How much do you know of ancient history?" Abel asked his silent companion.
"What do you consider ancient history?" D asked quietly in response.
"Have you heard of the Rosen Kruez Orden?"
D stopped in his tracks. "When I was a very small child. My…father said they had given the Nobility their exalted status." D shot Abel a glance. "How did you hear of them?"
Abel smiled bitterly, as if some faint and far-off memory was touched. "This city used to be known as Rome—the pinnacle of human civilization. Back then, there were three great powers in the world: the Vatican, the Kingdom of Albion and the Methuselah Empire. There were hundreds of peace treaties in place; harmonious co-existence between humans and the Methuselah. The Vatican controlled the Terrans, the Empire controlled the Methuselah, and Albion liaised between all the countries of the world. It was a hub of peace."
"The Methuselah?"
"That was the name of the Nobility before they became Nobility."
"What happened, then?" D asked.
Abel's voice continued in a monotone, as if he were reciting facts from a textbook, "During the funeral of Esther— the Queen of Albion—the Methuselah Empress was captured by the leader of the Rosen Kruez Orden and beheaded. The blame was cast on the human guards, and the Methuselah Empire started a war. The Vatican fought back, but our army wasn't big enough for the sheer force of the Empire. Their war leader, the Count of Croatia, Dracula, was proclaimed the King over all the people—and the Nobles were born."
D looked at Abel. "This information has been lost for ages. Why do you sound like you were there?"
"I was."
"How old are you?" The voice of the hunter was unperturbed.
Abel shrugged. The motion of his shoulders set a chain, which was browned with age, swinging forward. A clawed and spiked cross dangled from it. D's eyes widened by the tiniest fraction of an inch.
"You're the Crusnik, aren't you? —the silver-haired man who struck terror into the hearts of the vampires."
Abel turned his eyes downwards. "Yes, I am. I'm the one who caused all those deaths…Because I did not finish off the Contra Mundi." He sighed deeply, "And I have yet to purge my sins."
Two men stood in the center of the large cold room, decorated grotesquely with severed heads, staring at the video feed.
"We have to warn Cain." Isaak von Kampfer said in a low undertone.
"If he will listen to us. It would just be a waste of time." Dietrich replied, looking at his lover-friend disdainfully. "You know he's been acting odd ever since the Rosen Kruez succeeded." He lowered his voice conspirationally. "It's like he's lost interest."
Isaak glared at Dietrich coldly and said evenly, "Watch it. I don't care how much Cain favors you; no-one speaks about our supreme leader like that. Don't forget all that he has done for you."
Dietrich rolled his slender shoulders upwards insouciantly, "Hey, I'm grateful he allowed me to be made a Methuselah and all, but you have got to admit he hasn't done anything for the Orden since he cut off the head of the Empress. So why bother?"
Isaak, with a graceful movement, slammed Dietrich onto the console with his left arm, and said in a deadly monotone, "I said watch it."
"Well, give me an example of what he's done, then," Dietrich laughed softly, not an iota concerned, "Other than talking to the two in there."
"He's—He's–The Orden has—" Isaak stopped.
"Well?" Dietrich's voice held amusement.
Isaak snarled, "He might not have done anything actively, but he is still our supreme leader. And he has to know about this."
Dietrich smiled up at Isaak, "As you wish. Now, are you going to let me off this console, or do I have to bite you?"
The two figures silhouetted against the window of the military airship looked downwards at the great expanse of sand.
"Where is this?" D asked in his wonted calm manner.
"This was the greatest city of Albion, Londonium." Abel tilted his head back slightly, lost in thought. "I spent the happiest years of my life here."
"Where are we going?"
Abel smiled sadly and gently. "To the tomb of Queen Esther."
The airship whirred down beside the ruins, and the intercom crackled. "Sir, we have reached the co-ordinates you provided."
"Good. Let us get down."
There was an uncertain pause. "Sir…there's nothing here."
Abel seemed to change into a different person altogether, much to D's silent and disdainful amazement. "Ohhhhh? Ahhhhh... Well, never mind, we'll just get off. Maybe we've gotten a mistaken transmission from base. But we'll poke around, and if we don't contact you in an hour, come and find us, okay?"
The intercom crackled with ill-concealed staticky laughter. "Yessir."
The exit clanked open, and Abel and D walked out into the swirling, dust-filled world. Dunes stretched as far as the eye could see. D frowned as the airship took off and whirred away.
"I suppose you have a way to get to the tomb?"
Abel nodded.
"How?"
"I will need your help for that. Or more accurately, the help of your symbiotic friend."
D's left hand chuckled hoarsely, "He referring to me? Well, if he isn't a sharp one. How did you know I was here?"
Abel Nightroad smiled benignly, "I hear things. Please, would you consume the sand that covers the entrance to the tomb? It will be several meters downwards."
D's left hand cackled now, a broken, croaking noise, "What makes you think I'm going to help you, sunshine?"
D glared down at his left hand who shut up almost at once. "General Nightroad is our client. You will do as he tells you."
If the left hand had shoulders, he would have shrugged. "Regular lot of slave drivers, y'all are." D held up his hand and a face appeared on it, wrinkled and deformed. It opened its wrinkly mouth wide and sucked. Sand disappeared rapidly from the dunes around, and a sleek, polished metal floor appeared beneath them.
It was made of rings of concentric circles, with a palm-sized indentation directly in the center of the floor. Abel strode forward, bent down and touched the depression in the metal. A bleep sounded, and a cool female voice announced, "Welcome Prince Nightroad" The circular section of floor the two men were standing on shot downwards.
It stopped with a juddering halt, in a grand landing, fronted by a gorgeous holo-oil painting of a beautiful woman with wide blue eyes and masses of red hair that curled in gentle bunches. Her eyes were bright and hopeful, her posture full of confidence and the rosebud lips bespoke both determination and love.
Abel stood staring at the woman for a long time. D asked quietly, "Was she the Queen of Albion?"
"Yes. She's beautiful, isn't she?"
D nodded in silent assent. Abel sighed, gently stroked the cheek of the long-dead woman, and removed a data cube from his billowing robes.
"She left me a present when she died. Nine hundred holo-videos, each one to be watched on the anniversary of her death."
D raised an eyebrow. "Nine hundred years?"
Abel nodded. "That was the time that I mourned Lilith, who was my lover. I held vigil for nine hundred years. Esther told me she would rather I do something useful if I wanted to mourn her that long. And she left me nine hundred favors to do for her. Of course, the Methuselah war and the fall of the Nobility delayed me by far too long." He pressed the cube into a console nearby. The holo-painting shimmered and washed out. A holo-recording of the same woman, albeit older, faced the two men and smiled.
"Hello, Abel, my love. At least a hundred and fifteen years have passed. I hope you are happy." She laughed a little, "And I told you that you didn't have to see these if you weren't mourning me. You know, you don't have to do these things unless you still can't let go." She sighed and took a breath, "This favor, if you accomplish it, will help more than just one person. It regards Cardinal Sforza. Abel, you know how after Catherina died of cancer, Tres refused to continue any further activities, and the Vatican was forced to retire and deactivate HC-IIIX? Well, I asked the Pope and Seth for a favor, and Tres was preserved in a special chamber—the Stasis — that will ensure he would be in perfect working condition. Please, you have to convince him to watch the clip embedded in this data cube. It can only be activated by Tres, and he refused to try to even touch it when I went to him. Abel, it is imperative that Tres is reactivated and that he watches this clip. He…he can help you, and you…… can help him. Abel, my love, I will be watching over you from heaven. Have faith. I will see you again."
The holo-recording bleeped and faded out, replaced once again by the vibrant colors of the holo-painting.
Abel gestured down the corridor. "The Stasis was stored by special orders of the Queen in the third room down the left passage, according to the records I pulled."
D nodded. The two tall figures, one broad and large, one lanky but muscular, strode side by side down the left passage.
They entered the third room. It was small, with only a small coffin-like capsule, a holo-console, and a projector in it. Abel went towards the capsule, and placed his palm on the lock. It beeped. Authorization recognized. Prince Nightroad, Abel, Royal Consort of Queen Blanchett, Esther. The capsule slid open with a hiss. A youngish-looking man, dressed in similar black garments as Abel, lay immobile within. The capsule beeped again. Beginning re-activation of AX Agent HC-IIIX Tres Iques, Codename: Gunslinger. Blue jolts of electricity were seen, and the man sat up with a sudden movement. D's hand moved to his sword handle at once.
"Tres. System at 60 mode, updating memory banks." Tres blinked. "Why have you re-activated me, Father Nightroad?"
"Huh? Oh! I'm not Father Nightroad anymore. Not after AX disbanded. I became a Prince for about 70 years, but now I'm just a General."
Tres stood up and narrowed his eyes, "According to my data banks, 9,837 years 2 months and 7 days have passed since I was deactivated. Why have you re-activated me, General Nightroad?"
"Come on, Tres, we're old friends. Call me Abel."
Tres inclined his head, "Positive. You have yet to reply to my enquiries, Abel."
"Because I need you to watch this." Abel grabbed Tres' hand, and used it to put the cube into the console.
An image formed before the men, a tall, elegant figure with tumbling golden locks standing before a window. Her single eyeglass gleamed as she turned her head towards them. D's eyes, which were on the robot rather than the holo-video, caught the brief, though obvious, look of longing that flashed through the perfectly formed face topped with dark unruly hair. The robot took a small, involuntary step towards the semi-transparent woman.
"Hello, Tres," the figure said. "This recording… I am doing on the request of Queen Esther. She told me that both she and I are mortal, but you and Abel will live for a long, long time yet." The woman turned back to the window. "I have never thanked you for the service you have done for me, Tres, protecting the Vatican, AX…And me. You…you have given your life to serving me." The woman swallowed. "Esther said I was blind if I couldn't see that. I confess I was, and so…," the woman turned back to the men. "Thank you, Tres." The holo-image flickered, and a translucent image of Tres walked into view. Catherina jumped slightly, and quickly recovered her composure.
"The perimeters have been checked and the premises are secured, Cardinal Sforza."
"Good." Catherina's voice was unemotional.
"You should retire for the night. You are not well." The holo-Tres added.
"Yes, I think I will. Good night, Tres."
"Good night, Cardinal Sforza." The holo-Tres bowed and left. Catherina's eyes followed him sadly. She turned back towards the holo-camera.
"Tres. Promise me not mourn overmuch for me. And help Abel as far as you can." She smiled. "And, I want you to know, that I treasured every single moment I had with you. And though you will never hear this while I live, I want you to know that I…love you." She smiled for a second more at them before the holo-message bleeped out.
D's hand relaxed its grip on the sword, "Who was that woman?"
"Cardinal Catherina Sforza. She was head of the AX team, and one of Esther's most trusted friends," Abel replied.
"No—She was more than that," Tres said, his voice holding an unexpected note of sorrow, "She was Duchess of Milan, and she was my Lady."
D dipped his head silently. A flash of blue streaked from his back, and with a sudden flick of his hand, D decapitated a black monstrous hulk that had appeared soundlessly and invisibly. The body tottered on for a few steps, and then crashed heavily onto the floor. Three guns fired simultaneously and struck the other two accompanying giant creatures that were directly behind the first. D turned and looked at the three putrefying mounds on the ground.
Abel glared at the corpses with his gun in hand. "Auto-Jaeger." He snarled softly under his breath.
"Positive," Tres answered, returning his large pistols to their holsters, "The attributes of these corpses are identical to the Rosen Kruez Auto-Jaeger."
D turned to face them. "Behind you." The two men turned, with their guns out, but the Auto-Jaeger was already on the ground, his head crushed in by a woman with short black hair, who had jumped down from the ventilation grille in the ceiling. She straightened her legs, coming up from her crouch, "Who are you and what are you--" She raised her head and caught sight of Tres and Abel. Her voice trailed off.
"Lady Astha!" Abel exclaimed, recognizing the tall and slim woman despite the change in her hair color and style, "What are you doing here?"
Astha coolly returned his gaze, "Personal matters." Then she grinned, "I should ask you the same question, Tovarisch."
"I'm on a mission."
Astha raised an eyebrow, and then she noticed the hunter in black. She instantly glared at the man, her sword prongs extending, glowing in green light. The hunter's weapon appeared instantly in hand, steel-blue and gleaming.
"Vlad Drakul!" the woman hissed, "What is he doing with you?"
Abel stepped between the two aggressors. "He's not Count Dracula. He's D, a Hunter."
Astha's sword retracted, and she stared at the hunter's beautiful face, "The dhampir?"
"Yes."
"Interesting." She gave him a once over, then turned back to Abel, "This mission you're on, is it about the Orden?"
"Yes."
"Humph. Then you better follow me." She turned and marched off through the door.
"Mama, you're back!" A very beautiful young woman, with perfect features, an unblemished complexion, a head of long unruly brown hair and startling golden eyes, dressed in a long sleeved loose dress, rushed out of the door carved in the smooth wall, and stopped short in front of the three strangers. Her eyes searched them all.
"Aria, what are you doing out here? You just recovered from your… incident yesterday."
"Mama," The girl's voice was exasperated, "We're six feet underground. Even you're out."
"That's not the point." Astha's voice was annoyed as she herded everyone into the house, "I don't care how strong you think your constitution is, but sunlight syndrome isn't something to be taken lightly."
"You're a dhampir?" D asked.
The girl stared at D with no trace of fear or embarrassment. If anything, her eyes were proud and challenging. "Yeah, you have a problem with that?"
"Aria!" Astha snapped, "These are guests. Please be polite." Aria shrugged her shoulders.
Astha gestured to her daughter. "This is Arianna Astharothe, my daughter. Aria, this is Fath- Prin- General Nightroad, Father Tres and D."
Aria flicked her eyes over the men and raised her eyebrows, looking like a spitting image of her mother, "Right. I'll get tea, then."
"Thank you, dear."
Abel looked at the girl's retreating back, "She is very much like you."
Astha smiled, "Yes, she is, isn't she? But she takes after her father in some ways too."
"Ahhhhh….." Abel's fingers pushed up his glasses, his eyes narrowing.
"Yes, her father was Terran." Astha said. She waved a hand in the direction of the sofas. "Aria was one of the first dhampirs."
"Do you know a lot about dhampir physiology?" Abel asked, as they settled onto the couches.
"Certainly." Astha replied. Her mouth twisted wryly. "That was the reason Vlad Drakul spared me when he eliminated most of the Boyare who opposed him. He was hell-bent on merging the two races, hoping that the peace that we had when the Empress was still alive could be re-established." Aria returned, placed cups of steaming tea in front of them, and then settled herself on a nearby wall.
D gave Astha an unperturbed glance. "Oh? And what is it that you know?"
"Just some basic biological facts." Astha grinned, "I could give you a lecture."
"Please do." Abel said.
"Positive." Tres said, "I have insufficient information regarding dhampirs in my data bank."
D inclined his head in assent, and turned his head slightly to the doorway where Aria stood quietly, listening.
Astha leaned forward, twining her fingers together. Her voice was regulated; the cadence precise, as if she was giving a talk. "At birth, both Methuselah and dhampirs have their bacilli fully encapsulated within their body cell, much like mitochondria or chloroplasts in plants. They produce proteins and hormones that give rise to the different abilities of both a Methuselah and dhampir—'haste', regenerative powers and so on."
"The difference begins at Methuselah adolescence or "awakening." Awakening can occur from anywhere from about 14 to 20, and permanently stops any further growth. In Methuselah, the bacilli break out of the cells, entering the bloodstream. This increases the hormone levels produced by the bacilli, which in turn increases the abilities of that Methuselah. But because the bacilli produce toxins when exposed to UV light, that Methuselah can no longer walk in the sun. The bacilli engulf the red blood cells, and break the haem groups down into basic substances so the Methuselah can no longer produce new red blood cells, leading to the need for blood."
"In dhampirs, the number of bacilli within the cell is simply too small to produce the hormonal cascade effect required for all the bacilli to break out. At awakening, only about ten percent of all the bacilli present break out—not enough to cause fatal effects if the dhampir is exposed to the sun—but it can cause insanity, irrational behaviour, slow bodily breakdown. Sometimes after awakening, bacilli of a certain cluster of cells may break out into the bloodstream. When that happens, and the dhampir is exposed to the sun, the toxin level can sometimes be fatal—sunlight syndrome."
"Query. Why do stronger dhampirs have less attacks of the syndrome, yet move or heal faster than weaker ones? Those who have stronger abilities must have higher hormone levels and thus more bacilli in the bloodstream. They should be more, not less vulnerable." Tres pointed out.
"It was speculated that stronger dhampirs have a lesser amount of a more aggressive form of bacilli which produce stronger or more effective proteins and hormones even within the cell. Other than explaining why strong dhampirs come from strong Methuselahs, it also explains why the stronger dhampirs get less frequent but more severe attacks. Finally, the fact that stronger dhampirs need to consume less blood less frequently." Aria said from the door. "It also could be because of the human parent's constitution, or a combination of both factors."
D looked unusually thoughtful. "If vampires did not have bacilli in their blood, would they would be human?"
Astha's spine stiffened in offence, "Vampires? Humans? Stupid terms like those make it worse. We're all the same—all people—bacilli in bloodstream notwithstanding. It's just that we've forgotten how to live together in peace." She closed her eyes and let her head drop heavily on her headrest. "And the only three people I knew who could have held that peace are long dead."
Abel shook his head, "No, it is too late for the Methuselah. Their numbers have dwindled to almost nothing. They must either learn to die gracefully—or they must leave to the stars where they came from."
D murmured softly, "For we are mere transient guests within this world, like the ripples in the pool, to flash but briefly and then be gone, with only memory to mark its grave." Aria's golden eyes, filled with pity and regret, flashed in the sunlight as she turned her head away.