Author's Notes: Inspiration came at me this time… but I'm trying to get back in the habit of writing again, it's been quite a while since I've done anything so I decided to do this one. I hope you all enjoy it, please Review, it means a lot to me if you do.

Series Title: Castlevania
*Part of story and characters derived from Castlevania 64 [N64]*
Title: "Rembrandt - A Tale of Two Lost."
Main Character Bias: Malus
Written by: Inra
All characters are copyright of others than I. Original characters are my property, as you will see whom they are.

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~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~`~ "Can't Fight the Moonlight" : Chapter 1, part 1.

The moonlight diligently skimmed the orderly, trimmed hedges of the rather vast, spread of the garden. It was just after dusk. The moon had risen high above the clouds of the villa, the mansion dwindling below and above Dracula's cruel tyranny and anxious rule of the immense land they once called "Transylvania" . The villa was diminutive, but the memories of the dead floated always eager there, but the garden was more of an enthusiastic path of spirits. Yes, the spirits, the sprits that still speak, but cannot audibly mourn their cries, only to roam in active transport about the world they were destined to sustain their torture and execution of death through these sort of lonely nights.

The light eventually broke into shards and glided over the foliage, causing yellow shadow casts, as the moon was very much a dark yellow as the night converged with the mid section of exhaust and covers. The roses glistened, from peak of petal edges down to the lustrous jaded leaves as the plots of foliage and patched flora shined bright tones of monotone lemon.

The rustling of grass, the sweet aroma of airing leaves, and the gentle whisper of the whims of the winter breeze gave away the seclusion of spirits. The only true existing was the young man that walked the shadows. He had an arrogant stride, and a smug look upon himself to the screens of the calm undead that night. They seemed to only reflect back into his amber eyes, the patina appearing dim of their benevolence, that gloomy expectancy of solemn respect.

His frilled scarves of crimson, to his lowly shined tableau of leather and black seed that rested in escape from loss of the garden they clung to. His hair was a deep violet that seemed to tatter off into furious hues of cobalt singled locks, his tawny, auburn colored eyes mirrored only a allusion of harmony with his atmosphere. The place he once feared, had developed into his resting place for much of dim discrepancy, and formal rest.

Malus settled quietly amongst the weeds, placing his palm to the ground as he descended himself to the soils. He put his elbows to his knees as he stooped over in a sitting, settling position. Only the crickets, and instruments of the darkness stirred beside him that night.

The windows conferred the light of that same moon, those same stars, and those same thorns unto the unsuspecting young one.

Malus had come of age, he was matured and very sensible, although the only weakness he was given - was his heart.

Malus convened his deliberation to his emotions.. He contemplated about the past.. He mulled over the one he had truly loved.. His memoirs created an all too clear illustration.

He glanced to the moon, and folded his arms to his chest. The sleeves ruffled and shifted as he commenced and ended his final budge for the night. A small bead fell from his moist left eye - it was an opaque azure, and it represented only his sorrow, and overwhelming sense.

Malus was yet an added fatality to the night's distant obscurity. It made him reminisce - the dream that haunted him since the days of youth. He could only submit.

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~` Well? What do you think.. If I get enough reviews, I will continue. I need to know if I have readers out there, and I would well appreciate it. I know it was kinda short, but this isn't the end - if you are interested, let me know, I'll be working on the next part of the chapter until then.
= Inra