Timeline: Pre-Castlevania: Lament of Innocence
Warnings: None, though I suppose there's implications of m/m relations.
Disclaimer: Not mine, obviously.
Comments: I've been working on this fanfiction since the summer of 2005, back when this community was at its most active peak. Unfortunately, my inspiration to write died years ago and I no longer truly have the time to dedicate to writing, however I've been working on and off on this piece at long intervals determined to finally finish it. I'm not sure what sparked my sudden determination to stop pretending like I was going to someday, eventually finish this fic and actually do so, but here it is. For better or for worse.
Anathema
It had been a fortnight and three months since Mathias Cronqvist had last drawn his Elisabetha into his arms and kissed her. They had made love the night before his Company's departure. He could remember the feel of her ivory skin, made even paler by the moonlight, as they fell together, and the intoxicating scent of her hair as he muffled a cry against the silken waves. He remembered the soft words they had shared, her promise to pray for him and Leon Belmont and the even sound of her breath as she drifted beside him. He had watched her as she slept, tracing light patterns along her smooth skin, marvelling in her angelic beauty and love.
Dawn had brought with it languid partings, both reluctant to let the other slip away. Mathias bid his beloved a long farewell; He kissed her worshipfully, promising that he would return to her and mounted his steed as Leon Belmont rode into the courtyard.
Elisabetha had smiled then. 'Be his strength, Leon,' she murmured, asking of the knight as always to protect her dearest husband not only from the dangers of foreign lands, but from himself.
'Do not fear for him, M'lady. I shall protect him till my last breath,' Leon assured, taking her delicate gloved hand in his own and pressing a chaste kiss to it. 'I swear it.'
'May God be with you.'
'M'lady.' Leon offered her a nod, turning his horse toward the gates.
Mathias had hesitated then, eyes searching Elisabetha's face as if to etch it into memory before dismounting and pulling his wife into another embrace, his lips finding hers. 'I shall return, my love, my wife.' They were undefeated; Leon's skill with a blade coupled with his tactics had made them near invincible in the eyes of the Saracens. Be it God's will, and they would once more return home. He would tell her about his adventures, the mysteries of foreign lands, and how the women were exotic and veiled yet unmatched in her beauty. He kissed her again, gloved hand tracing along the curve of her jaw as he reluctantly pulled away.
She tried not to cry for she was a strong woman and slipped her rosary into his hand with words that it would protect him, and how she would watch for his return.
Mathias had counted the days since he had left, holding onto these sweet memories, watching the sun set each day and the moon rise above the desert horizon knowing that she too had beheld that same vision. On the nights in which not even the comfort of Leon's arms could calm his soul, he would look to the west to his shining star, holding her rosary and praying that God would keep her safe. At long last his waiting came to an end: the Church had called their Company back to the West and Mathias back to his beloved Elisabetha.
««»»
It was late the night Mathias reached the Cronqvist manor, Leon riding at his side. Their arrival was unannounced, yet the manor seemed strangely alive for this hour. Torches burned brightly along the parapets and within the halls, their light casting shadows that caused the manor to seemingly loom above them.
The guardsmen posted at the gate bowed before them both in a manner less reserved for knights returning victorious but more befitting of those who had suffered great losses on the pilgrim road. Mathias felt his heart quicken at such a display.
'What has happened?' he asked with forced calm.
'M'lord—' one stammered, refusing to meet his lord's gaze. No further words were exchanged between the two; Mathias dismounted his horse and rushed toward the manor leaving Leon to trail behind him.
A sight that chilled him to the core greeted Mathias. Servants bowed their heads offering condolences as he passed. He paid them no mind, only wishing to see his Elisabetha. He called her name into the corridors, making his way toward her bedchamber and finding a group of attendants and priests hovering just outside the threshold. He pushed past them, dread and anticipation, the heavy scent of incense, and the clamouring of voices flooding his senses.
'Lord Cronqvist … there was nothing that could be done.'
His vision swam momentarily before focusing on the form of a priest, and then looking beyond to the bed. He wrenched back the bed curtains. Elisabetha.
She lay motionless on the bed, her hands folded peacefully across her breast clutching a delicate glass rosary. Golden lashes rested against porcelain cheeks, her eyes forever closed. Mathias stared at her form for a long moment as if the suddenness of all this was almost too much for him to bear, and then a hand stole out to brush along a pale cheek finding the last lingering of warmth.
Letting the tears fall freely from his eyes, he lifted her into his arms and cradled her. 'Elisabetha—' Something seemed to snap within him, and he let out an anguished wail, proclaiming his grief to the Heavens.
Leon felt his heart break at the sound and hurried into the chamber, pushing past the gathered crowd and ordering them away. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight that awaited him: Mathias clinging to the body of his wife, keening and sobbing, his façade of calm forever shattered. For a moment he dared move no closer, simply watching the scene unfold before his eyes in almost surreal horror. 'Mathias,' he murmured, finally resting a hand against his friend's shoulder.
The man started at the touch, turning his red-rimmed eyes to meet Leon's. 'Help me,' his voice a harsh whisper of desperation.
Leon stared at him in sudden helplessness for there was nothing that could be done to change what had happened. No words of comfort would lessen the grief.
Mathias turned back to his beloved wife's lifeless form, fingertips reaching out to touch her paling lips desperately seeking some sign of lingering life, the simplest draw of breath, anything for he could not believe that she could truly be gone. 'Please,' he pleaded again and again against all hope that the pitiful mantra might bring her back. 'They'll take her from me, Leon. Lock her away in a crypt. Rob the world of her grace—' his voice broke upon a sob, 'Must Heaven be so merciless? I curse God!'
'No—'
'She loved Him and He condemned her!' Mathias cried pulling away from his beloved, hand clutching the rosary she had held at the point of her death. He stared at her for a long moment, his entire being struggling between breakdown and a type of fury until the strange rage he felt was too great to bear and he fled the chamber, screaming curses at the Heavens.
The manor chapel's ornate walls and stained glass panels flickered against the candlelight, its ethereal splendour greeting Mathias as he threw open the doors. 'Curse God!' he raged, flinging the rosary at the alter. 'Curse God for taking her. Curse God—' He could not fathom why she had been stolen from him. 'Is this my reward for defending God's Church? I curse God!'
'Give her back to me!' he demanded wishing for even a moment's time with her once more; to hold her in her final moments whispering soft affections to her. Anything but this. 'Give her back or take me instead.' He fell before the alter sobbing.
The movement was swift, the simple flicker of candlelight across the blade, Mathias intent on driving the dagger through his heart to end this misery. 'No!' came the frantic cry, Leon's hand closing around his wrist halting the blade. 'Mathias, please.'
'Let me be buried with her. There's nothing without her,' Mathias wept. 'It is all hell.'
'And so you would damn yourself forever?' Leon implored attempting to coax the blade away from him. 'Your wife is in Heaven, she will wait for you.'
He looked up, eyes meeting Leon's, voice tortured, dead. 'There is no Heaven.' he fell against Leon, clinging to him as he sobbed. 'Why did she deserve it?'
'I—' he stammered at a loss of words. 'I don't know …' Never before had he felt so helpless, unable to do anything that might calm his friend's grief and despair. And so he simply held Mathias as he wept, held him for what seemed like hours until the sobs had ebbed to small shuddering gasps. Disentangling himself from his friend's possessive grip, Leon called for a priest to assist him in leading Mathias to his bedchamber fearing if he shattered again Leon himself would succumb to tears.
'Come Mathias, you need to rest.' Leon advised as the priest knelt beside them murmuring soft words of comfort and offering a hand to help the man to his feet.
He walked through the corridors as if in a trance flanked by the priest and his true friend, hesitating as he neared his beloved's rooms. Leon's hand was on his arm in an instant, halting him. He turned grey eyes to meet Leon's, their depths pleading as he breathed, 'Let me stay with her tonight, to grieve in solace.'
'Mathias.' Leon was doubtful of his friend's intents, fearing he would once again attempt to take his life.
'Please, give me this. I need to be alone with her, if I am kept from her this night I shall surely go mad.'
Leon stared back at his friend, searching he eyes and sighing, 'I cannot keep you from her. I will come for you in the morning but then you must rest … I'll see to the arrangements—' he found himself unable to continue and pulled his friend into an embrace, 'She is watching over you. May God grant you peace.' He released him with a soft, 'Good night.' Staring after him, still fearful.
««»»
Within his wife's chambers, locked away with her as though in a tomb, Mathias felt more at peace. He knelt at her side, keeping vigil and whispering soft words of love as he held her cold hand in his own. He was content to remain here forever, but it would not last. With the new day he would once again be forced to face the cruel reality that awaited him. Elisabetha was dead and neither tears nor prayers would bring her back.
All his life he had sought ways to keep her from harm, to keep her from the threat of illness and war, and both had taken her from him. All that he had strove for was naught. There was no panacea to keep his love from death and his works were in vain.
'My love, what am I to do without you?' He would happily be buried with her, but the lingering spark of rage he felt in all this, the sense that he had somehow been unjustly wronged by God made him falter. And though death would grant him access to his beloved it would not avenge her. Alone with only his thoughts and the lifeless form of his dear wife, Mathias strongly felt that he was very close to losing his mind. He thought to welcome madness but again Elisabetha would go unavenged. And so he devised a dark plan between tear-filled apologies at the knowledge that it would be many years—if ever—till he would join her if he did not shatter first before his plan came to pass. The Crimson Stone had been passed down throughout the generations and while the vampire's curse placed upon the jewel was well known, it had been an alchemical treasure locked away and treated with the same care as one would a rare but deadly venomous snake. This very relic would give him the power he would need to fulfill his dark will. 'Forgive me, my sweet for the foul sins I am to commit.'
Leon had found him the following morning draped across the edge of the bed; one hand entwined with Elisabetha's, the other clutching what appeared to be an ornately cut stone. An amulet from the East perhaps that he had intended to give his wife upon his return knowing well how Mathias had lavished her with exotic gifts from their travels. Smiling sadly, Leon lifted Mathias' sleeping form to carry him to his own bedchamber and closed his friend's hand more tightly around the stone, ignoring the strange sense of foreboding felt in that simple contact.
««»»
Mathias Cronqvist stared stoically as his wife's weeping attendants threw rose petals across her veiled form. He watched it all filled with an unspeakable cold that seemed to numb all senses until they carried her to the entrance of the Cronqvist sepulchre. He had broken and rushed to her side, lifting the veil from her pale features and embracing her corpse, 'I will avenge you.' He vowed softly as he felt Leon's hand on his shoulder, hushed voice telling him that she was with angels.
Leon pulled him away from the mouth of the grave, holding him firmly until she had been interred among the dead. 'You must let her go, Mathias. She would not wish you to grieve so.'
He did not respond, staring as the acolytes and priests resealed the vault, shutting his love away in darkness. He had fallen to his knees then, weeping silently as the mourners and priests slowly dissipated till only he and Leon remained. They remained in silence for what could have been as long as hours, Mathias staring at the crypt that entombed his wife, Leon keeping vigil behind him to ensure that his friend did not hasten himself into that same grave.
At long last Mathias broke the silence. His voice hollow, 'What should I do?'
It was a difficult question to answer, but he could not leave Mathias this way without one. 'Try to continue on. It's all we ever can do when faced with loss.'
'And why not simply give up? Why must we always endure?'
'Loss is a part of life.' Leon stated, and then knelt beside his friend, seeking out his eyes. 'It is what makes the promise of Heaven that much sweeter. Now come, you'll make yourself ill if you continue so.'
Six days had passed since then and while much of the manor had returned to their normal duties it was clear that their lord was falling deeper into his despair. Shutting himself away in his chambers and refusing all company, Mathias was a portrait of a man without purpose and each day it seemed that his will to continue on was faltering and with it his health. The attendants deeply concerned summoned Baron Belmont who had previously grudgingly observed his dearest friend's wishes to grieve alone.
'How is your lord?' Leon asked of an attendant as he shrugged off his cloak.
'Lord Cronqvist is possessed by the Devil, M'lord.' There was a type of fear in the boy's voice, whether for himself or his master Leon did not know. He feared the very worst and cursed himself for leaving Mathias to his own devices despite having left strict orders to his attendants to inform him of the very first signs of deterioration.
'He grieves.'
'No M'lord. He does not eat, nor sleep at night. He will not speak to any who come to him and cries out at night as though hell had taken him.'
Sighing faintly, Leon nodded in grim acknowledgment. 'Tell me no more.' Hearing such words were almost too difficult to bear; to know that his friend with whom he had endured so very much now lay broken and defeated. 'Perhaps he will speak with me.' It was a dwindling flame of hope.
Leon rapped lightly on the door but when no acknowledgment was given he quietly pushed the door open, before allowing it to close with a faint click. Some attendant must have been given access to keep the candles burning throughout the night, but otherwise it appeared Mathias had been left alone, no traces of food or drink save a crystal goblet of some diluted wine. Mathias was seated in bed, pillows neatly propped around him, bedsheets smooth, immaculate even now when Leon had anticipated twisted bedding and ripped curtains. It seemed his supposed madness was nonexistent and he appeared to be almost at peace as though in some dreamlike trance.
'Mathias,' his voice gentle not wanting to startled or disturb his friend.
He did not turn to Leon, eyes set on the window staring out into nothingness perhaps in hopes if he stared at the darkness long enough it would consume him.
Leon spoke his friend's name again knowing he would grieve himself to death if he were left this way, and for a moment wondered if perhaps it was too late for Mathias, that no words could draw him back.
Mathias turned to him then, deadened eyes settling on his friend as though noticing for the first time that he was not alone. The stone was weakening him with its curse, slowly draining the life from him replacing it with a cold immortality. Was it worth this? Part of him wished for nothing more than death even as the days passed placing such release further from his reach. The world held nothing for him now. He had thought to hang himself with his own rosary beads for Leon had ordered that all weaponry be removed from Mathias' immediate reach knowing well enough that he would not hesitate to do violence upon himself no matter the fate that awaited him beyond this world.
'I know you grieve and I with you,' he began, crossing the chamber till he stood near the bed; Leon knew he would not be able to delicately approach the matter at hand. Mathias had always been so damnably stubborn. 'Yet you cannot continue thus.' Settling on the edge of the bed, Leon reached out to take his friend's hand in his own. 'Elisabetha would not wish this, you know that.' He threaded their fingers together; a simple bond to affirm that Mathias was not alone in this world.
'I couldn't save her.' Mathias murmured softly as though to himself. 'All that I have done … I couldn't save her.' What had any of it been worth now that she was gone? He had no care for trying to defend these lands, or the faith of God who had betrayed him. 'It is all for nothing … I am nothing, damned, anathema.' His voice faltered, trailing off into a faint sigh. 'All I loved has abandoned me … God has abandoned me.'
'No, God has not abandoned you, Mathias. Nor shall I. It has been our vow and duty to protect one another.'
'This is no battlefield, Leon.' He wished to hear none of it. He had made a promise to keep his Elisabetha from harm and had failed and in that knowledge all others seemed empty and in vain. 'Leave me.'
'I will not stand idle to watch you die! That's what you want is it not? To die?'
Mathias couldn't find the will to disagree.
««»»
In the days that followed Leon had remained close by his friend's side, visiting whenever possible and making what seemed to be an endlessly futile attempt to draw Mathias from his sorrow and while he spoke more freely at times with Leon it was evident that he was fading.
Leon was seated beside the bed reading quietly from an ornately bound and beautifully illuminated translation of Arabic poems. 'Time passes, but true love remains. The life of this world is, for the most part, nothing but a succession of illusions and deceptions ...' Leon paused then and lifted light eyes to glance at his friend. 'Perhaps something a bit brighter.'
Mathias started a little and looked to his friend having been lost in thought. 'Majnun Layla is a lovely piece, Leon. You should appreciate its deeper meanings.' He had spent many nights discussing literature with Elisabetha. She had such depth to her that he would never find in another and while he missed her kisses and the feel of her within his arms, he missed her company most. Not even Leon with whom he had shared so much of his life with could come close to filling that void her death had left within his heart.
'Some other time, then.'
'Tell me a story.'
'I—' Leon stammered as he closed the volume and set it aside. 'You know I never had a talent for stories.'
There was the faintest ghost of a smile. 'No, you never have.' Settling back against the pillows Mathias turned his gaze upward staring at nothing for a long while as he allowed himself to think on his beloved. When he once more spoke he sounded tired; life without her was so meaningless. 'I miss her so, Leon.'
'I know.' They were not simple words without meaning for Leon truly did understand what Elisabetha had meant to Mathias. They had married out of love in a society where marriage was often nothing more than a political arrangement and their union had been a happy one. It was with a type of wistful remembrance that Leon thought on this and how her death had seemingly stolen away her love's will to live leaving Leon here to try and keep Mathias from all too swiftly following her. The sudden look of pain that crossed his friend's features did not go unnoticed and he moved to sit on the edge of the bed.
'You should not grieve so.' He began, shaking his head a little at his own helplessness. 'I have said it often, but to no avail.' Leaning closer, Leon threaded slender fingers through Mathias' silky hair, lips brushing against the other's temple.
Mathias let out a faint sound of distress causing Leon to abruptly pull away. Blue eyes searching his friend's face, he asked, 'What is it, did I do something I should not have?'
'You'll leave me, as well.' Was the mournful reply.
'No.' He protested softly, 'I could never.' They had been through so much together; whatever could cause his friend to have such fears and doubts?
'You're all I have, Leon.'
'You needn't fear that I ever leave you.' Through the years and the countless battles won and tribulations both had endured, that had remained at one another's side. He vowed then with conviction. 'Wherever you might go, I would follow you as always my dear friend. I swear it.'
Mathias wished to believe these words more than ever. All too often people made vows that they never intended to keep. If Leon's promise were true, he had a purpose now to his dark plan and he would offer his friend the gift of immortality.
'You needn't worry so or doubt me, Mathias.' Searching out grey eyes, Leon brushed his hand along Mathias' cheek and was startled to find no trace of warmth in it. 'You're freezing!'
'Am I?' He truly had not noticed. It made sense, naturally. After all, he was dying, for already he was feeling the effects of the vampire's curse more strongly.
Leon moved closer, arms wrapping around narrow shoulders and pulling him into an embrace in an attempt to warm him.
Their close proximity was almost too great to bear. He could already taste the blood flowing through Leon's veins, hot and intoxicating. His mouth closed on the pale throat. It was a beautiful torture not to tear through the fragile flesh, to drink the blood of his dearest friend, to share that one last intimacy and make him an immortal. Leon would be sweet upon his lips like fine Venetian wine. It would mend their souls together for all eternity and never again would he have to fear being alone, never again would he have to suffer loss. Together they could defy death.
But he would not turn Leon without his consent. It would be for nothing if his friend was made a vampire against his wishes and would likely shatter their close bond. Mathias wished Leon to ask for the dark gift, to give himself over completely. Only then would Mathias make Leon as he was.
««»»
It was unlike Leon to stay away so long. He had been summoned earlier that day and since that time Mathias had heard nothing of his friend's whereabouts. He was in a light sleep when Leon returned having grown ever more averse to being awake during the daylight hours that weakened him so. Eyes fluttering open he glanced toward the doorway to find Leon standing just within the threshold. He was dressed in their company's surcoat, the dragon of Mathias' own house ornately stitched upon it. Sitting up a little, a small line of worry formed between dark eyebrows. 'Leon, what is it?'
'I've been called back to the East.' Leon stated not without regret.
'I see.' Mathias murmured trying his best to smother the pang of abandonment already gnawing at him.
'Were there a choice in the matter, I would not go.' He counted it dangerous to leave Mathias but he could not refuse his orders and neither could he allow Mathias to accompany him as they had for so long. The man was in no state for war; Leon did not wish to see his dearest friend die on the battlefield in some suicidal attack.
Mathias did not answer for a long while. After all these years Leon was leaving without him, without his guidance. He had expected this day to come. Leon had orders to fight in the name of God who had so savagely stolen Elisabetha from him and little would ever come between his friend's unfaltering loyalty to the Church. Mathias had never had such faith for he had always harboured a type of disdain toward the papacy. His only loyalty had been to his dearest Elisabetha and Leon Belmont and if fighting for the Church ensured their safety, so be it. 'How long?' He spoke at last.
'Six months, perhaps more.'
'An extended campaign then?'
'Yes.' The word was soft and Leon's eyes fell downcast before mustering a smile. 'Pray that I stay alive without you.' He paused then and exhaled a sigh. 'I wish it were not so.'
Mathias went silent, suddenly withdrawing into himself as he acknowledged that his plan was shattering before his eyes. Leon was leaving him and a thousand grim possibilities were already twining themselves into his thoughts.
The touch of his friend's fingertips against his pale cheek drew him back and he looked up to meet blue eyes as Leon murmured a soft, 'Forgive me, my friend.' Leon's lips brushed lightly against his own in a kiss that was entirely too brief and his hand reached out to wrap slender fingers around Leon's wrist. Mathias would not lose the only person left that made this existence worthwhile. He could tell him what he was becoming, offer this immortality to him, keep him from leaving and give him a new purpose.
'Leon—' he began a moment too late, Leon's own words shattering anything Mathias might have said.
'When I return I am to marry Sara.'
Hand retreating from Leon's wrist, Mathias was certain had there been any trace of colour left in his face it would have quickly drained away upon hearing this and he felt his throat seize up suddenly as though choking down embers.
'I am to ask permission of the Church to take leave from foreign campaigns. Her father wishes that we marry soon for she's of proper age to be a wife.'
Sara Trantoul. How had he forgotten her? The girl had been betrothed to Leon for years but her age and his duties abroad had kept their union delayed. And while in another time Mathias would have gladly welcomed her as his friend's bride, she was nothing but another obstacle now. Leon's honour would never allow him to abandon her. Why now of all times would Leon decide that it was right to wed her? For a moment Mathias felt he would faint, vision darkening. But the feeling passed only to be replaced with a sudden coldness.
'Is something wrong?' Leon asked softly. It had never been his intention to upset the other; in all truth he had expected Mathias to be pleased with his impending marriage. In the past he had always been welcoming of Sara and she and Mathias' own beloved had shared a close friendship. 'Mathias,' the word barely more than breathing as Leon leaned close to brush away soft dark strands of hair.
Mathias turned away from the touch leaving Leon feeling oddly stung at the denial.
'Fine,' he straightened. 'I go now.' But he lingered a moment longer taking in the sight of his dearest friend and wishing it were not as it was. 'You have my love and my prayers.'
Mathias did not watch as Leon slipped through the door, nor did he offer him any farewell. It wasn't until after he heard the door click back into place that he felt the few tears he'd been holding at bay slip from his eyes. They did nothing to quell the nagging jealousy and the strange betrayal he felt.
Leon was abandoning him for another.
««»»
In the third month of Leon Belmont's absence, Mathias ceased to live. His broken heart stilled, replaced with a numbing cold. The unfortunate attendant who had seen his seemingly lifeless form was found the following morning in the manor's garden, her throat ripped out by some ravenous beast.
It was whispered among the servants that there was something terribly wrong with their master, that perhaps the grief of losing his wife had finally driven him mad. Though bedridden by a strange illness, he wandered the halls late at night often crying out against some inner turmoil. No physician or priest called could determine the cause of his erratic behaviour and though Leon Belmont had assured them before his company's departure that Mathias was simply a man broken by grief, they began to wonder if perhaps some demon had indeed taken hold of him. He shied away from religious relics and hid away in darkness.
Though the Crimson Stone had bestowed upon him its dark gift, he was weak. Having the stone was not enough; he needed the soul of a powerful vampire. There was one, Walter Bernhard, an ancient vampire who lived beyond the forest within a realm of endless night. He gained his strength from the darkness growing ever more powerful as the centuries passed and though the presence of this vampire lord was well known throughout the countryside, he seemed bored with his immortality and posed little threat. He would be the final piece to this elaborate puzzle.
In this state, Mathias could not challenge the vampire himself and while he was a brilliant tactician, Leon had always been more skilled with a blade. It would merely be the task of convincing Leon to raise his men against Walter. And so while his health and mind seemingly deteriorated he busied himself with plotting his next course of action, learning the vampire's habits to find the way to best bring him to defeat.
««»»
Leon returned victorious to find his lands in a state of terror. The lower class had always held a certain tendency toward superstition, but the tales they regaled him with were not so commonplace; stories of demons in the night and of the moon shining as though bathed in the blood of the innocent. If there were such evil, Mathias surely would know something of it and the words of a rational and educated friend held much more worth than the superstitious babble of peasants.
Leon was greeted by two posted sentries at the gates of the Cronqvist manor.
'Your master is home?'
'Yes, M'lord.' One bid the returning knight to enter as a stable boy approached to tend to Leon's horse.
The manor had seen better days. The roses in the courtyard that normally would have been in full bloom were naught but twisted thorns, vines grew thick on the stone walls and the once preened landscape now the skeletal remains of foliage killed by the previous winter's frost.
It was with great relief that he found the state of the halls a bit more welcoming. All was in order and servants went about their customary duties, yet they spoke in whispers as he passed. The further he proceeded the more he sensed a strange emptiness within, as though Death's shadow had not yet lifted from this place. It filled Leon with a cold dread which he could not shake as he was led by a chambermaid toward her lord's chambers.
'There, my lord.' The maid pointed down the corridor, unwilling or frightened to go any further. Leon took little heed of her apprehension and nodded toward her as she gave him a respectful curtsy and quickly retreated from this place. Mathias had always preferred the solitude of his own company and so it was not unlikely that he had recently become cross with the attendants for their disturbance. Leon, however, did not bother with such formalities as knocking, and pushed the heavy door open a moment later.
'Leon.'
He started at the sound of his name hardly having expected Mathias to be the first to speak. Mathias had known the instant he had returned, his heightened senses listening to the hushed conversation in the courtyard.
Settling blue eyes on the form of his friend, all other concerns were quickly forgotten.
All colour had been replaced with an ashen grey and his eyes were shadowed. His beautiful Mathias had wasted away in the passing months. His only comfort was the knowledge that he still lived even though it seemed that the Mathias he had known for so many long years was forever lost. The brilliant young man who had been his confidante, truest friend, and occasionally the devil on his shoulder was nothing but a ghost now.
'Friend.' A small line of worry formed on his brow as he crossed the room to Mathias' bedside. 'It pains me to see you thus. It has been nearly a year.'
'So long? It seems mere weeks.' In truth he had counted each day since Leon's departure as he formulated his plan.
Leon frowned at the words. His prayers of returning to find Mathias restored to his former self had been in vain. Settling beside his friend, Leon took the others hand in his own. 'It is good to see you again, regardless.' Giving the hand a slight squeeze he continued, 'I fear we did not part on good terms.'
Mathias waved off the words as if unconcerned with past differences. 'You seemed to have fared well enough without my help.' It was with relief and a small amount of admiration that he spoke. It wasn't that he had been doubting, it was simply that in the East anything could have happened. What if by some chance Leon had been captured, what if he'd been gravely injured in battle? Many of these fears he had dreaded in Leon's months of absence for he could not give life, only postpone death. But now Leon was here, close at hand where he could watch him once more.
««»»
The last rays of sunlight slipped beneath the horizon casting them into twilight. Mathias rested against Leon content to listen to the steady beat of his heart. For a moment he could pretend that they were back on some campaign, that the world outside was not mist covered hills but sand swept dunes washed pale blue in the moonlight. They were back in the East and this dreadful year had never come to pass as though it were all some nightmare. Somewhere a wolf howled.
Leon started suddenly.
'It was a wolf,' Mathias murmured against his ear, a chilled hand trailing along his friend's collar bone, tracing the contours beneath delicate flesh.
'I know. It just … it seems strange. Mournful, as I've never heard before.' Leon replied, sitting up to look out the nearby window hoping to catch a glimpse of this sad creature.
'You should appreciate them, Leon.' Came the hushed reply.
While Mathias had always possessed his share of eccentricities, he seemed much darker than before as though the morbidity of death had consumed him and the chill that had haunted Leon before slowly crept back. Tingling along his spine and outward along his fingertips. What had become of this place? What had become of Mathias? Of them both? Here in the fading light the man beside him seemed to take on a new form. Here in the fading light Leon remembered the stories he had been told upon his return and turned to meet darkly glittering eyes, 'What evil has overtaken this place? I was told that servants are found mauled by strange beasts and that the moon itself shines red.' There was a shudder in his voice.
They were the words Mathias had longed to hear. The trail of carnage left in the wake of his own need for blood had been enough to scare the peasants witless and of course they would have shared their fears with their lord returning victorious once again from the East. Shifting away from the other, Mathias' voice took on a deadly serious tone. 'It is the vampire lord.'
To this Leon scoffed. 'All know he is no true threat. He plays games in his boredom. This is not the act of Walter.'
'Simply because he appears to lie dormant does not make him no less a threat. Do you remember nothing of what I taught you in chess?' There was a trace of displeasure in his voice. He had thought he had trained his friend better, taught him to not take a threat by face value. In battle he had taught him that a single man could indicate an entire battalion. And so a threat no matter how small could prove deadly if left to flourish.
'And what would you propose I do?'
'Raise an army against him.'
'The Church ... they will not allow such unauthorized battles.'
'No?' Mathias arched a dark brow in question barely masking his disdain or frustration at Leon's apparent lack of initiative.
'Have you not heard? The Holy Father himself has made decree that all souls in Christ crusade to take back the city of Jerusalem.' Many of his own men had remained in the port city of Messina to sail at once for the Holy Land and Leon had returned with only a few of his most loyal.
'Those fools.' The words were hissed in contempt knowing well what fate these followers of Christ would suffer for the East was no place for peasants with no military training. Their blind faith in God would take them only so far; they would die thousands of miles from home and for what? God who cared little of their service and devotion. God who had robbed Mathias of his happiness, his purpose, his truest love. 'They fight for nothing for God will not protect them or those they love.'
Sadness flashed across Leon's features at the words, but he did not speak against them knowing that Mathias was grieving still and in his broken heart there was room for little else than abject sorrow. He wished it were not so, but he simply was too weary to deal with his friend's volatile behaviour this night. 'I must go ...' There was a type of reluctance in his voice as he slipped from the bed. 'Sara—'
The name was like venom. 'Sara?'
'We are to be married within the month.' Leon explained. Already preparations were underway and it seemed needless to delay their nuptials any longer.
'I hadn't realized ...' While he had known this day would come he had not anticipated it so soon after Leon's return.
'Mathias, one could venture a guess that you might be jealous.'
'No. Of course not. I'm glad for you. No one deserves happiness more.' Mathias feigned a weak smile.
'I love her, Mathias.'
'Truly?' His eyes darkened. 'You realize that none shall be safe while that demon reigns over the forest. We've fought in foreign lands to see that the ones we love are safe yet the threat is here, Leon. Those games he plays, perchance your beloved is his next pawn.'
Leon stared hard at Mathias. 'You should not think such evil thoughts.'
'I think only for her safety. Would you not mourn the loss of your betrothed?' Surely if Leon did, indeed, love Sara he would do anything in the world to keep her from harm even if it meant defying the ordered of the Church he had so faithfully served.
'I would be heartbroken.' The pain that etched itself onto his face was all Mathias needed to see and while he saw it as naught but a grim parody of his own grief, it was enough. Mathias placed his hand against his friend's arm as if in gesture of comfort. He needed is resolve, needed his trust. 'I do not wish you to suffer the same fate as I.'
Leon was unchanged, unfaltering in his outward stance, but there was doubt. His resolve was slipping beneath the weight of Mathias' words; the lies he so honestly spoke. And yet he knew that his place was no longer here at Mathias' side. He would have a wife soon, and indebted to her. He could no longer pretend as though Mathias was the only person in his life whose opinion mattered and he refused to challenge the Church's orders. His honour would be forfeit. He hesitated only a moment, willing away his desire to remain here in his friend's company. 'I must go ...'
Mathias spoke not a word as he watched his truest most honourable friend slip away. He had been foolish to believe Leon would not abandon him for already he was losing him. His honour and loyalty to Sara, to the Church, they would be his undoing and so it occurred to Mathias in the aftermath of Leon's departure that he had been going about this the wrong way. He would gain the vampire's trust presenting himself as a fledging in need of guidance and offer Walter the tantalizing innocence of his friend's beloved Sara and then he would play Leon like puppet on strings. After all Leon held dear was stripped from him, he would deliver unto him the soul of Walter Bernhard. Then his grand scheme would be fulfilled save one final element that would complete his Magnum opus.
To make Leon Belmont lose his faith in God.
Fin