AN: Unavoidable circumstances got pushed off to next week, so this is going up on schedule.

Rain pounded against the tower walls and slipped in the empty windows, driven by howling winds. Not even the winged skeletons wanted to fly in this kind of weather, so they perched inside and cracked their weary bones, chattering and grinding out skeleton's complaints. Occasionally a certain axe knight's roar came echoing up the tower, accompanied by skeletal cackling - he never had been good at dicing.

Adrian curled deeper in the musty blanket he had wrapped around himself and crept a tiny bit closer to the nest. The mother blue crow tolerated his presence, enough for him to peek around the stored clockwork gears and see the tiny crows cheeping for their mother's attention, little beaks opening and closing madly. He rested against the gears and watched them, lulled by the rain.

He wasn't sure how long he was there, watching and dozing in equal measure, before a sharp, bony hand on his shoulder shook him out of his trance. Adrian jerked and banged his head on the gears, the thump loud enough to make the mother crow caw at him in annoyance. He rubbed his aching head and glared at the winged skeleton who had startled him. The skeleton just shrugged its shoulders in laconic apology and pointed downwards with its spear, which Adrian followed to see Father at the bottom of the tower, looking upward at him.

"So there you are," Father said. "I assume your studies are finished?"

"Yes, of course! Just, wait a moment-" Adrian scrambled down the ledges, jumping from one to the other like a goat and not disturbing a single skeleton. That didn't stop the one that had disturbed him from hovering directly behind him, as if he would slip and fall at any moment. Even if he did, he could fly. It was reassuring to know the creatures took their duties seriously, but it chafed.

Especially when he landed in front of Father and it took the opportunity to adjust his clothes and smooth out his hair.

Father ignored his fidgeting under the skeleton's claws until it was done and had stepped back, then fixed Adrian with a cool look. "If you're here, I assume you have finished your studies for the day."

"ἄνδρα μοι ἔννεπε, μοῦσα, πολύτροπον, ὃς μάλα πολλὰ πλάγχθη, ἐπεὶ Τροίης ἱερὸν πτολίεθρον ἔπερσεν: πολλῶν δ᾽ ἀνθρώπων ἴδεν ἄστεα καὶ νόον ἔγνω, πολλὰ δ᾽ ὅ γ᾽ ἐν πόντῳ πάθεν ἄλγεα ὃν κατὰ θυμόν, 5ἀρνύμενος ἥν τε ψυχὴν καὶ νόστον ἑταίρων!" Adrian recited proudly. He'd been sure to memorize it before leaving the library that evening, and had been secretly hoping Mother or Father would ask.

"Which means?"

"Ah..." He'd worked out a translation that had at least seemed correct, if he could just remember... "The man talks to me, turning a lot, who hit lots of bad things, then he wasted a holy thing from Troy's city?"

The temperature in the tower dropped a few degrees. The skeletons and the axe knight shuffled away, sensing their master's disapproval. "Tell me, Muse, of that man of many resources, who suffered very many things, after he sacked the holy citadel of Troy," Father corrected icily. "Have you been dreaming when you should have been learning? I certainly hope your Latin is better than your Greek!"

"S-sorry Father! I'll study harder!" He'd tried! Maybe he had gone a little fast, and mistaken some of the words, but Marpessa the student witch had just learned how to fly and he'd promised to meet her in the garden and watch her show off. After that he couldn't just keep her waiting. It was all very understandable!

Father sighed. "I'll stop by the library tomorrow and check on your progress. If you're sneaking off or dreaming..." He let the threat hang in the air, unspoken. "It's important that you be careful and don't rush, do you understand, my son? This is your duty, to learn so that you will be able to bear your future responsibilities. I don't want to see this happening again."

"Yes, Father."

"Good." Scolding finished, Father relaxed a bit. "Now, do you know where your mother is?"

"Ah...something came up between the witches and the small demons, and she got called in to help mediate." Adrian wasn't entirely sure what had happened this time, Marpessa's explanation had been hasty and mostly consisted of bad names for imps and ukobacks, but he got the impression something important had been set on fire. It would all get sorted out with Mother's help either way. There wasn't a creature in the castle that didn't love and listen to her.

"She doesn't have to do that... She works herself too hard." Father said to himself, looking a bit displeased. He shook his head and spoke to Adrian. "She really is too kind, even to the damned."

Adrian shrugged. "Mother said she didn't mind." 'We must always try to help people, no matter who they are,' she often said.

"If she wishes to listen to Helene and Pruflas snipe at each other, then I suppose she can. In the meantime, she asked me to create more medicine for that sick girl in the village." Irina, her name was. A sweet little girl who helped with her family's sheep and sometimes played with Adrian; she had gotten sick suddenly and even all of Mother's knowledge wasn't enough to break her fever or reduce the sticky mucus from her lungs. But with alchemy... "A thankless task, but as it was asked of me...do you want to help?"

"Of course!"

"Then come along," Father said, and walked away. Adrian scampered after him, and together they made their way through the chapel with the stained glass and flitting ghosts, through the pillared main hall where the bats swirled around them in cheerful greeting until one had to be untangled from Adrian's hair, finally to the laboratory where Father practised his alchemical arts.

The castle had felt Father's desire and had already brought out a plain, sturdy table filled with tools and supplies, along with the ancient book of alchemy. A pair of skeletons was in the process of straightening it out, and they quickly bowed and shuffled away at Father's approach. Adrian followed along and peeked around Father's arm as he gently paged through the book. It was a fragile thing, the binding undone and the pages cracked and torn, but the knowledge contained within was among the most precious in the world.

Father found the page he was looking for and read it carefully. Adrian could make out a few words - his Latin was better than his Greek, but whoever had written the page had not been a careful scripter - just enough to nod along when Father pushed the book away and said "Get the galtite and melt a thimbleful's worth into a bowl. Keep it hot over the fire until I've combined the angel's halo and holy man's vein. Understand? Good." He assembled his ingredients while Adrian got the galtite and blaze candle, along with a stool to sit on.

Galtite melted easily, layer over layer sliding away as Adrian rotated it slowly over the cool green flame that burned hot enough to destroy stone. He tried to get every drip in the bowl, but a few slipped away and joined the other mysterious bumps and stains that adorned the table's surface. He breathed a quiet thanks it was enchanted not to burn.

Soon there was enough galtite in the bowl and all Adrian had to do was make sure it didn't solidify again. He propped his chin on his free hand and watched Father work, grinding and mixing the solidified holy blood and cursing when a careless touch burned a dark gash in the mixture. Something occurred to Adrian, and he was almost surprised he hadn't thought to ask before. "Father, where did you get that book?"

"The book of alchemy? From my father, who helped his own parents write it down. Originally it was all just passed down by word of mouth, because they were afraid of being found out. Hand me the bowl." He plucked the melted galtite out of Adrian's hand and poured it all over the holy mixture, carefully swirling it clockwise to make sure it bound together.

"Oh. Where is he?" Adrian knew his mother's parents, they lived in Rovas. They visited fairly often, and Grandmother would sneak him little cakes behind Mother's back. But before this, he'd never heard Father mention any sort of parents.

Father glanced up, his gaze flat. "Dead. Both of them." He settled his hands on both sides of the mixture and called forth a sigil that glowed with an eerie light.

"I'm sorry. Did hunters get them?" Grandfather had been a vampire hunter in his younger days, but Mother assured Adrian he wouldn't hurt him or Father.

"What? Hunters?" Father stared with close to open confusion. "Do you believe them vampires?"

"They weren't? But then how are you...?"

"I... That is a long story." Father looked back at the mixture, now bubbling merrily away. "But perhaps it is time you knew. This will take a long time to finish in any case." He looked to a wall and the pair of skeletons scurried in again, now carrying chairs and a platter with bloodied wine, bread, and cheese. Father settled into his chair and fixed Adrian with a hard look. "I'll tell you this: it is not a happy story. But it is a valuable one."

Adrian nodded, a nervous twist curling around his spine. He'd hardly ever seen Father so grave. It felt somehow dangerous. He grabbed a goblet of wine for something to hold and listened closely as Father began.

"I suppose I will start at the very beginning. I was born almost 400 years ago, in 1062, to an ancient family of alchemists. Back then...I was called Mathias. Mathias Cronqvist. I studied both war and alchemy under my parents, and in time when my father died I took his place as lord of those lands."

"What lands?" Adrian asked.

"I've...forgotten. It was in the Roman Empire in the west, by the river Rhine, but...I cannot recall the name." Father took a long sip of wine, looking pensive. "It was a lovely land, filled with hills and forests. Elisabetha and I would often ride out along that great river and listen to its roar... Oh, yes. She was my wife, then."

Adrian's thoughts immediately stopped. Wife? Father had been married before? It made a certain amount of sense, once the initial surprise faded - Father had just said he was old, people often remarried, but - It just felt wrong in a way he couldn't quite get a handle on.

He gulped down some of the wine to cover his expression - soft and brown, rich and dark, long days - fresh pig, and it softened the bitter wine nicely.

His efforts hadn't been fast enough to fool Father, who just looked amused. "What is it? Yes, your mother is my second wife. Elisabetha is - she is long dead. Nothing more than a sweet memory. ...I remember she was beautiful and kind...but I couldn't tell you what she looked like, now. Her face has blurred beyond all recognition, not even the echo of a voice..." Father trailed off, lost in memories, then shook himself out of it. "Time is cruel, my son. You might not understand it yet, but this long life of ours is a curse. A terrible curse."

Adrian frowned. Was he really going to forget Mother, Marpessa, Luca and Jakob, and all the rest? It didn't seem possible. He forgot bits of alchemy, the proper way to decline nouns in Latin, but not people's faces, not what they had done together. Not his friends. Not Mother. "I'm not going to forget anyone!"

"I thought that once," Father said, still with the distant look in his eyes. "Then one day I woke up and realised everything important had slipped away." He took another sip of wine. "That's why I insisted on those portraits. I won't fall into the same trap twice. And you'll get to reap the benefits as well.

"In any case. Elisabetha was of another alchemist family, and her father wanted access to the Cronqvist books. My father in turn wanted their knowledge of potions and salves, and so we were arranged to be wed. In time we found each other to be to our liking, and swore our hearts to the other. Both our families benefited from the union, and together we practised new forms of alchemy, new tricks to push forward the edges of our progress. A few recipes were even recorded in this book here - you may have seen them. Try to pick out which ones, sometime.

"At that time I had a friend as well. Leon Belmont was my junior by a decade, and in many ways he was a brother to me. I never managed to teach him how to read more than a few lines and writing was always beyond him, but in all my years I have not met a greater fighter. With my strategies and his skills, we never lost a battle. They called us invincible.

"The Belmont family had little money to maintain their position - Leon's father had a copious appetite for wine and games - enough that he was forced to pledge to marry a merchant's daughter in hopes of being able to keep his own lands. Still, he liked her well enough. They...might have made a good couple. She and Elisabetha got along well, I remember.

"And so we all happily passed the days together."

"What was the girl's name? Leon's betrothed?" Adrian asked as soon as Father paused.

"Oh, her name? It started with an S... Sascha? Seraphina? No, just Sara. Sara, I believe. I never had much contact with her, really. Still, those were happy times.

"And then the Pope called for a crusade. A grand war in God's name, to get all these bothersome knights and emperors safely out of his domain and snapping at the Turks instead. And if Christian men starved alone and far from home, what of it? A bloated, heat-festered corpse was no threat to him! It bought him favours with those ungrateful Greeks, for all the good that did him! Deus vult? Deus vult?! To hell with God's will! If He wished the holy land freed, He could have cleared out all that heathen filth in a moment! What was the purpose? It was all simply an illusion, a beautiful monument to a rotted Church, a -"

Father was suddenly standing, both hands planted on the table, eyes wide with a strange mad fury. His shoulders shook, fingers clawed deep enough to scratch the enchanted table, fangs fully bared in a hateful snarl. Adrian had never seen him like this. It didn't seem real, that his quiet, scholarly father could look like that, could snap out words like he wished he was snapping necks, could -

Adrian shoved himself back on pure instinct, forgetting how he'd wrapped a foot around one of the stool legs until he went over backwards in a tangle of limbs. His head hit the stone floor with a solid crack and he laid there dazed, all the wind knocked out of him. That couldn't have been Father, could it?

"Adrian!" Hands were on him, hauling him to his feet. Adrian rubbed at his head, feeling a little woozy after all the crashing. Father patted at his head, the terrifying fury gone as quickly as it had arrived. He looked like ordinary Father again, nothing but concern in his eyes. It was eerie, and Adrian shook himself free as soon as he could. His heart still felt shaky in his chest.

"Forgive me. I didn't meant to frighten you, Adrian. It's all right now. Here, have more wine. It's all right now, I won't shout any more." Father looked and sounded genuinely apologetic as he helped Adrian back onto his stool and handed him the wine. Adrian gulped it down in his nervousness, and grabbed some of the bread and cheese to stuff into his mouth as well. It helped, a little, the wine spreading warmth through his body and slowly settling his rapid pulse.

Father walked back to his chair and sat down heavily. Now that he wasn't angry he just sounded tired as he said, "Real war is a terrible thing, my son. I knew campaigning, I knew suffering - but even now the walls of Antioch are burned into my mind. We had no food, no chance of relief - we ate our horses, our boots...our enemies.

"Leon didn't. I remember that. He walked away. I was desperate enough to try the soup, I hoped it would cover what it really was, but then I remembered Elisabetha and joined him. We curled around our empty stomachs together and wished to be home."

Adrian paused in his chewing the bread and quickly washed it down to ask, "What's wrong with eating people?" He added, when all Father could do was look shocked, "We do it, don't we? We feed on people every week."

Father didn't seem to know what to say to that. "We are vampires, and...special. It's not the same for ordinary people." He seemed to be casting about for something else to say and finally came up with, "After all, Lisa doesn't drink blood, does she? And none of us eat flesh. That's because it is forbidden."

Adrian considered this. "But Mother takes communion every Sunday at Mass. That's blood and body, isn't it?"

"Not...in that sense," Father winced. "The wine and host certainly become the blood and body of Christ in essence, but their outward appearance remains unchanged, and Christ is not harmed by it. The method by which that occurs is a mystery to be contemplated, like the Trinity. It is not like carving up a man because you are starving for the slightest meal. Ask...ask the priest in Rovas when you go there next. He will explain it better than I."

"All right," Adrian agreed, though privately he decided to ask Mother instead of Father Nikolai. He didn't want to talk to Father Nikolai more than he absolutely had to.

After settling himself again, Father continued. "Leon and I were in Antioch, but we never made it to Jerusalem. After that seige we were forced to turn back, out of supplies, out of funds. The others continued onward, and I hear they did take Jerusalem - for all the good it did them. Leon swore to return and finish his duty, but all I wished for then was to see Elisabetha again and leave all the blood and dust behind me.

"When I returned home, I found her dead.

"She had always been a bit sickly. If it had not been for her family's potions, she likely wouldn't have made it past childhood. Disease would often settle in her lungs, leaving her coughing and dazed for days at a time, but- but... She had always come through before! Always before, the potions had worked! But when I left her side, when I left to fight for the God we both loved so dearly - only then did she fall! No one could give me a proper explanation, though Sara claimed to have been with her every moment! If she really had been at Elisabetha's side, why could she not give her the potion? Or did it come on too suddenly, a merciless attack from a cruel God?"

For a moment, Father's voice rose to nearly a shout and the former fury glinted in his eyes again. But then he pulled himself back with obvious effort and bowed his head, breathing slowly.

Adrian kept a careful eye on him, his heart starting to pound again in his chest. Underneath the unease was a vague sense of unfairness - Father was getting so worked up over a woman so long dead, when Mother was right there. He didn't really understand it. He felt sorry for Father, for having suffered so badly in the Crusades and coming home just to find this Elisabetha dead, but it was so long ago. Weren't things better now?

Father raised his head and drank more of the wine, enough that when he put the goblet down a skeleton shuffled out to refill both their cups. Once the skeleton had retreated yet again, Father continued, voice a little rough.

"Humph. So, my Elisabetha was dead and long since buried. Leon claimed sympathy, but was only too happy to spend his time dancing attendance on Sara. He didn't go back to his crusade, but kept fighting around both our lands. I...I could not think beyond my grief. I sank into a deep melancholy, too great to even consider rising from my bed. What was the point of study, of battle, of prayer, when all it had gotten me was a cold grave where once there was a living woman? There seemed no point in work, no result to any effort. Better to simply lie down and dream the days away.

"But I could not be purposeless forever. Thoughts still wandered across my mind, despite all effort to resist them and sleep. If all things were God's will, then so was Elisabetha's death. But he would not allow me to simply end it all and see her again, under the pain of eternal separation and torment. But this wasting - was this not also a form of suicide? Then I was damned no matter what I did, for I could not return to war in the name of the God that had taken her away. And if I were damned...

"The Conqvist family had two treasures. The first was well-known in the right circles: a book containing the true and accurate secrets of alchemy. The other...was the Crimson Stone. Part of a set, it and its twin, the Ebony Stone, had been created in a failed attempt at the Philosopher's Stone. Instead of bringing wisdom and riches to the creator, they brought power to vampires. The Ebony Stone brought eternal night - the Crimson Stone the power of domination. Yes, that's what this does. Do you want to see?" Father took off his ever-present necklace with the sparkling red gem in the centre and held it out for the taking.

Adrian took it with a mumbled line of appreciation, not entirely sure what he was supposed to do. He squinted, trying to sense the least amount of magic from it and failing. It was just a pretty rock. To be sure, it was no type of stone he recognized, and it had a lovely marbled sheen to it, but still. Father might as well have worn a rock he picked up along the side of the road.

Father seemed to notice his lack of enthusiasm and explained "It's hollow now, for I have mastered it completely and taken its power into myself. That's how you might have it without use of the Stone, understand? Its power is in your own blood. The secret of its creation was lost, sadly enough. It would be good knowledge, if needing to be carefully controlled.

"But for me, at that time, it was power - though at a price. Both it and the its twin contained within them the vampire's curse. Normally easy to shun, then it tempted me. An eternal life as one of God's enemies...a being blasphemous in its very existence...I could never see Elisabetha again, no matter what I did. Then instead I would take this opportunity, and gain an unlimited life to curse God forevermore!"

"Mother says we're not enemies of God!" Adrian interrupted before he realised it. "Christ died for all of us, born in darkness or not. He rescued the righteous from hell. So...so you should not speak like that. Mother wouldn't like it."

Father sighed and just looked tired again. "Yes, she does say that. Your mother is an extraordinarily kind and forgiving woman. But that was how I felt then, before I knew her.

"The Stone would be useless without the soul of a vampire to power it. Fortunately, there was a vampire nearby, and a powerful one, the master of the Ebony Stone - but in my bedridden state I could not hope to defeat him in a fair fight." He hesitated, as if he were unsure how how to continue. "It was then that fate intervened.

"The vampire that lived nearby...whatever his name was, was bored of his eternal life."

"You can't remember his name?" Adrian asked.

Father closed his eyes in thought before shaking his head. "Completely forgotten. Ah well, his name was not worth remembering in any case."

"Thomas!"

"Thomas? What?"

"If you can't remember his name, just call him Thomas. It's a good name." Adrian had just grabbed the name out of the air, but it was a nice, solid name. And if Yomi's Old Thomas had recently thrown him off the apple tree he wasn't even picking from - well, that had nothing to do with it.

Father shrugged. "Very well. Thomas passed his time not in study or any other useful pursuit, but in stealing the loved ones of the people nearby. He would force them to run through the castle with the promise of their lover or child's safe return, but it was all a lie. He would bite the victim, and usually force the two unlucky ones to fight to the death. Even if the one still human survived, they could not hope to stand against Thomas' power. So did all around him live in fear. And on that night, he chose Sara to be his latest victim.

"Of course, Leon did everything he could. He tried to muster his men to assault the castle, but Sara's family was not from the area. Her father did not believe in the story of a vampire, and, assuming his daughter had run away or been killed, withdrew his money. Without his support, Leon was forced to sell his sword, his armour, and the rest of his horses just to satisfy his creditors enough to keep his manor. He could not hope to outfit men enough to break open Thomas' den."

Adrian frowned. "You couldn't help him? Didn't you have any money?"

"Ah, well...I found out about Leon's dire straits later. He would only ever show a cheerful face to me, and swore to the end he had a full company of armed men. All I could do was lie back and await his success. For I had no doubt that if anyone could defeat Thomas, it would be Leon.

"After that I do not know exactly what happened. I know Leon went to the castle with not even a sword. I know he met Rinaldo at the gates - an alchemist, old friend of my father, who had been forced to play Thomas' game in the past - and he gave Leon a whip made with alchemy that could hurt the creatures of darkness. With Rinaldo's help, Leon was able to fight his way through the castle. I know not what creatures he specifically faced, though...I believe Medusa did mention fighting him, once. So. At one point in the castle, Leon fought Medusa, and was victorious.

"Finally he faced off against Thomas himself - and lost, of course. Even a magical whip could not stand against such an ancient vampire lord. But Thomas returned Sara and Leon left, thinking himself triumphant."

"But she was bitten?" Adrian privately wondered what that even felt like. Mother swore it didn't hurt, but he always worried a bit.

"Yes. Even as they left the castle behind, Sara was starting to turn into a vampire. Not wanting to truly become one of the undead -"

Adrian broke in. "Why not?"

"Eh?" Father looked a little confused again.

"Why didn't she want to become a vampire? It's not so bad, and if she was a vampire, she would be able to help Leon beat Thomas!" He settled back and drummed his heels against the legs of the stool, satisfied with his logic.

Father paused like he was trying to think of what to say again. "It's unlikely she would have been able to defeat Thomas, even with Leon's help. Remember, he had the Ebony Stone, and the night loved him above all. As a newly-made vampire, Sara would never have stood a chance. Besides, she was not much for fighting in the first place.

"And...they all believed vampirism to be a curse that would destroy one's human heart. She likely believed that once the curse took hold, she would not be herself any more."

"But that's not true, is it? You did it! And so did I."

"Hahah, your circumstances are special, my son. As for myself...perhaps those too were special circumstances. What would have happened to Sara had she given in to the curse is unknowable. All I can say is what did happen, that she feared becoming a vampire, enough to die. So Rinaldo proposed a plan, a way for Sara to die as a human, as she wished, and use the curse of the vampire within her to give the whip enough strength to overcome Thomas' power. He knew the spell that would allow this, and both Leon and Sara agreed.

"As soon spoken as done. Sara died, and the whip became a weapon of power against vampires."

Adrian frowned. It just didn't seem right. "Couldn't you have done something?"

Father shook his head. "I was far away, and barely able to rise from my bed. There was nothing I could have done. Indeed, for all I knew Sara was safe and sound."

"But..." He knew that sometimes there was just nothing that could be done and it was easier just to let a person rest, but all of this just felt wrong. He couldn't understand why someone wouldn't take the option to live. "She should've just become a vampire. What's the point in dying like that?"

"That's for her to answer. She died and achieved heaven. What more could one ask?" Father's distant look was back, just for a moment. "But with her death, there existed a weapon to kill Thomas once and for all.

"So Leon went to challenge Thomas again. This time, he destroyed the Ebony Stone, and without its power, Thomas soon fell to Leon's strength. And that...was my victory."

"Wait, then was there something you could do? Why didn't you do it earlier?" Had...had Father let all that happen? The idea was at the very edges of possibility. Father was intelligent and cunning, true, but after what happened to Sara the idea of victory seemed - cruel. Still...

Father replied smoothly "I could only do it then, after Walter was defeated. Before then I was truely bedridden, incapable of knowing what had befallen Leon. But I had faith in him, absolute faith that no matter what trials he faced, Leon could overcome them."

Adrian wasn't entirely sure how much he could believe that, but when had Father ever lied? But what faith could Father have had, knowing what he did then? He chewed on more of the bread to help quell the miserable uncertainty in his stomach. This really wasn't a happy story at all.

"When Thomas fell, Death was there to take his soul. And when he did, he granted it to me. By the power of the Crimson Stone I became a vampire, one with all the strength of Thomas and the ability to gain more. My weakness fell away, as if the previous year had never happened. I - well, you know what it is to be a vampire, if not what it's like to go from a frail and weakened human to one. Suffice to say, I was restored.

"Leon...was surprised to see me. I had never even told him about alchemy, too afraid he would reject it as complete blasphemy, as most did in those days. He had known nothing of the Crimson Stone. I explained it all to him and - I'd hoped he would understand. But that was not to be. Now...now I cannot blame him for it."

"He didn't understand what? Becoming a vampire?" The uncertainty still roiling in him added a cool 'or how Father knew of all of that had happened'. Adrian firmly told it to be quiet and turned back to the story. "He wanted you to die, then? Like Sara?"

"...something like that. I offered to let him come with me, so we would not be alone in eternity, and he refused. Completely. He was angry with me, furious, and said this was never what Elisabetha would have wanted. We snapped at each other, and with the Eternal Night coming to an end, I felt the need to take my leave...he would have killed me if I'd stayed, and I had no desire to fight then.

"I turned into a bat - hah, you would have been ashamed of my flying, I could barely tell up from down - and winged my way out of there. ...immediately I got entangled in a tree, fell to the ground, and spent the day hiding under a bush. It was purest luck that Leon did not pursue me. I stumbled out at true nightfall and wondered where to go."

"You didn't know how to fly?" Adrian crinkled his nose. How could anyone not know how to fly? It was as natural for a bat as running for a wolf.

"I have taught you very carefully. Be glad of it," Father said dryly, though it was softened by the smallest flash of an amused smile, gone before he continued.

"It was then, standing by the ruins of Thomas' castle, that I started to realise it. I had achieved my goal. I was a cursed, immortal creature - with nothing to live for. I had life eternal, but Elisabetha was still dead.

"I had few possessions, just the book of alchemy and my old sword. I could not return home, but I had no-where I wished to be. Lacking all other options, I turned east. I had the idea I could go to Constantinople, study the works of the ancient philosophers...but as I travelled I felt a - a sickness in me. A memory of hunger that could not be satisfied, misery and a strange sense of guilt... I forced myself in sight of the gates of Constantinople and stopped in the middle of the road, unable to move my feet a step further." Father turned his wine aimlessly in his hand. The distant look was back in his eyes. Adrian wanted to say something useful, something comforting, but all he could think of was wishing that he could've had the chance to see Constantinople before the Turks ravaged it, and that didn't seem to suit.

He said nothing, and Father kept on. "In the end I detoured. I crossed the Black Sea and hied to the north of the Caspian, and in time reached an endless plain of grass and dust, swiftly travelled as a wolf. I went further and further east, hoping every step to find some reason to continue, some way to break my ties with the past. I went all the way to a great eastern ocean at the end of the world - and farther, to lands called the birthplace of the sun. I saw many new places, met myriads of strange people, and found no peace. Death was my only companion. Other vampires would attack me for possession of the Crimson Stone, they would fall, and I would gain more power. Days, months, decades...centuries passed thus.

"Finally I came here, as close to home as I could bring myself to come, and built this castle out of pure chaotic magic. I ruled over the night, only sustained by ritual and duty. After everything I had done, after losing the last person I cared about...I was in the same place I had been after coming home from the Crusade.

"Until I met a sweet young woman in the forest, of course. And you know the rest of that story." The distant look slipped out of Father's eyes as if it had never been, and he raised his glass to Adrian with a look of bitter amusement.

"Mother!" Adrian burst out, and realised with an awkward rush he had sounded entirely too happy after that story. "I...well...you don't sound happy about all - any of this, Father," he said more quietly, eyes cast down.

"Happy..." Father said as if he had never considered the question before. "I am happy now. Life is a series of trials, and all I did was extend mine. But I have Lisa, and I have you, and I believe I can be satisfied with that. Elisabetha and I...we had children, but none that lived. Only one, a beautiful little girl, ever even learned to walk. We had such hopes for her...but when she was barely five years she caught the pox, and there was nothing we could do to save her." Father sipped at his drink, quiet again, before he let out a burst of sudden, smothered laughter. "But you cannot get sick! Be glad of that, my son. My most useful gift to you!"

"I appreciate it," Adrian said, and he did. He'd watched Mother try to save every coughing child, every fevered infant, and failed more often than not, even with all her skills. A cold body was more than worth the price.

He wondered about this other child - if she'd lived, she'd be his sister. What would that have been like? Would she be kind but aloof, like the witch Clymene, or smothering and overbearing like Zephyrine the succubus? But she would've been a full vampire - he couldn't picture Father leaving her behind - and equal to Adrian in rank, so it wouldn't really be like Clymene or Zephyrine...would it?

He bit at his lip, avoiding his fangs by habit. "Father...what was she like? Your daughter, I mean. What was her name?"

"Curious about your half-sister?" Of course Father grasped the intent at once. He closed his eyes, obviously trying to dredge up something from long-neglected memory. "I barely remember what she was like...a happy child, I believe. She - I think it was her - especially loved birds. She'd watch them for hours, like a cat. Her name...what was her name." He frowned. "Sophia? Yes, I think so. Sophia, for wisdom."

"Oh." Birds...she would have gotten along well with the Owl Knights. Adrian felt, abstractedly, that it was too bad - but that was what happened to children. You lived or you didn't.

"It was all long, long ago in any case. All of this, all of them...they belong to the past. Not here and now," Father said. He sighed. "...I committed terrible sins to get here. That is not a thing that can be erased. But without them, you would not exist and Lisa...who knows what would have happened to her."

Adrian kicked his legs, trying to think of some useful or comforting remark. "Father Johann used to say that sin is a mistake humans cannot help but fall into, except by the grace of God." He felt very adult to say it, for all the words were not his own.

"For we all bear the sin of Adam on our backs," Father said, and Adrian had the feeling he was quoting as well - quoting something he didn't entirely believe. "And so humanity will ever choose to fall."

Adrian wasn't entirely sure Father Johann or especially Mother would agree to that. "Well...as long as you don't repeat it, it may be all right. After all," he said, brightening a bit, "you have Mother and me here, now."

"So I do," Father agreed, his tone quietly reserved. He looked over at the mixed potion, long since finished. "Speaking of your mother, her medicine is ready. She may take it to that village at any time." He made to pour it into a bottle for safe travelling, only to be pre-empted by one of the skeletons and forced to settle back, looking slightly irritated.

"Good," Adrian said. He hoped Irina got better soon, he missed talking with her.

"She'll probably want to leave first thing in the morning - if you finish things up with Blademaster Kuan Sheng tonight to his satisfaction then you may go with her," Father said. "Just be sure to get back early enough to meet with the Librarian," he added, fixing Adrian with a hard look.

"Yes, Father," Adrian said, internally torn. Kuan Sheng would work him to the bone, and leaving first thing in the morning meant he'd barely have time to lie down, with the only thing waiting for him on return being more Greek, this time under Father's watchful eye. He'd be paying for that for days. Normally going to any of the surrounding villages with Mother would be worth it, but not Rovas.

It was all Father Nikolai's fault. This had never been a problem with kindly old Father Johann, with his shiny bald head and slow, soft voice. Father Johann had been from an old family of the area, and he understood. The vampires would take the criminals and the bandits and leave the humans alone, and in return the humans gave up their criminals and left the monsters alone. It had worked perfectly - until Father Johann had died and Father Nikolai had taken his place. He wasn't from any of the villages, Adrian thought with some resentment. He was a refugee from Constantinople!

Now people gave him unfriendly looks in the street, no child but Irina and Luka would talk to him, and even Aunt Zoe, Mother's best friend, snapped at them with fear in her eyes when they come to visit. Mother said that they must endure it and prove themselves like the saints of old, but Adrian knew he'd never be a saint. He'd rather stay at the castle, with the witches and skeletons, then try to understand his humanity or whatever Mother wanted him to do. Not that he'd ever tell her that, of course.

"You don't sound as enthused as usual," Father said, breaking Adrian out of his thoughts with an unpleasant jerk. He looked amused at Adrian's stricken expression. "Did you have a fight with one of your little human friends?"

Adrian's fang dug into his lip. He wanted to explain everything, no matter what Mother thought. 'Your father will just be upset. He'll do something drastic, and it won't help at all. We must simply endure this,' she had said. Even an hour ago Adrian wouldn't have thought such a thing could happen, but after hearing Father's story, seeing that rage - maybe he would do something drastic. Something terrible. But he didn't want to lie to Father.

"It's - I don't like the new priest, Father Nikolai," he said, risking as much as he could. "He's not kind like Father Johann was, and he just - he likes to hear himself speak, I think."

"Mmm," Father said. "Well, it is a sad truth that many priests have heard not the call of righteousness, but the call of power. Let him enjoy his petty games. They won't be able to touch us here." Father returned his attention to the book of alchemy, which he had been perusing, and said half to himself, "Perhaps I should make extra salves as well. They are always hurting themselves, after all."

Adrian hoped Father was right about Father Nikolai. Before he could offer his opinion on making more salves - it seemed a good idea to him - there was the patter of running feet combined with a rough, bouncing scraping sound and Marpessa skidded into the small laboratory room, fiery hair flying around her head and skirt bumped up above one knobby knee. She smoothed both in the same motion as she dipped into a deep bow, so fast Adrian got the barest glimpse of her face. Her broom stuck up correctly but inelegantly from the crook of her elbow.

"Lord Dracula, the Lady Lisa, Witch Helene, and Devil Pruflas request your presence in the Iris Room of the inner quarters at once, if it pleases you," she said, obviously trying not to pant for breath. She must've sprinted the entire way.

Father pushed himself up with an air of resigned irritation. "Refused to listen to sense, did they? Then I will have to step in after all." He closed the book of alchemy with a snap and the skeletons ran to tidy up the table. "Adrian, go to Blademaster Kuan Sheng and don't slip off again. And you make sure he goes, little witch."

"Yes, my lord!" Marpessa said without looking up.

"Yes, Father," Adrian said, scrambling off the stool before he was lifted off by the skeletons. Time for more bruises - Kuan Sheng was an unrelenting master, but there was no one more skilled with the sword in the castle. Possibly the world.

Before he left, though, he found he had one more nagging question. "Father? May I ask a question?"

"Yes?" Father replied, looking over his shoulder. He was already halfway to the door. "Make it quick, we both have duties to attend to."

"What happened to Leon, after you left?"

"I cannot say, I never saw him again," Father tilted his head, considering. "Perhaps he was able to take over my lands and finally get out of debt. I should think - hope that he destroyed the whip. But he is dead now, in any case." With that he swept out the door, the past dispensed with, the present calling.

Once he was safely gone Marpessa straightened up and rubbed at her back. "So what have you been up to, if you've been skiving off on your lessons?" she asked Adrian.

"You saw what, I was helping my father," he answered archly. They walked together down the polished marble hallway, feet soundless on the cool stone. A faint clicking to the left betrayed Stolas as he paced up and down, beak clacking soft theories of magic only he could hear. "We were doing very important work."

"That so." Marpessa sounded sceptical, but accepted it. "Is this more medicine for that village? When are you going to let me come along? The Mistress said I could."

"Ah..." Mother had been talking about letting some of the most human castle residents come with them to Rovas, something about bridging gaps and bringing people together in the light of brotherhood, but Adrian didn't want Marpessa to experience the coldness they'd been getting lately. For one thing, she knew how to throw fireballs and wasn't shy about using them. "It's not fun at all, just a bunch of humans and their houses. You'd be bored."

"You just want to keep it all to yourself! Fine, I'll just stay here and actually attend my lessons." Marpessa humped and trotted ahead, but only as far as the statue of Nike before slowing and letting Adrian catch up again. The bats clustered in the ceiling chirped at them in recognition or amusement, which they ignored with as much dignity as they could muster.

They were nearly to the great hall, colder and emptier than the warm halls of the alchemy laboratory, when Marpessa spoke again in a clear attempt to restart the conversation. "What were you talking about with the Master back there? Who's Leon, and why would he destroy a whip?"

Adrian considered telling her the full story, but dismissed the idea almost instantly. It was Father's story, not for him to repeat. Finally he shrugged in a way he hoped conveyed something boring and inconsequential. "He was just telling me a story."

AN:

I got the idea for this a little after finishing Shield of the Patriots, after reading one too many Sorrow-era fics where Julius knows EXACTLY what happened with Leon. It doesn't work that way! I realise why it happens, of course, because someone needs to info-dump at Soma and we know how Arikado info-dumps (he doesn't). But the idea of the other way, with imperfect retellings getting some details right, but not all...I was intrigued. So I wrote this.

I wrote it in a bit of an unusual way, I'm usually a very linear writer. Start at the beginning, keep chugging to the end. This time I wrote all the stories, with character reactions sketched out so I could have the teller react to them, and then went back to fill in the gaps. Hm...tell me if you noticed.

The Greek Adrian quotes is the first couple of lines of the Odyssey, which as good a place as any to start learning ancient Greek. Translation, both bad and good, is from fnon of FFA IRC. Thanks to foxinthestars and LadyHarken for the beta.

While part of the point of this was to show different views of the events of LoI and you're supposed to pick up on the differences and stroke your chin, I did rewrite some parts of the story to just be less dumb. So Leon being way in debt and that's why he doesn't have a sword is not Dracula forgetting or editing or only true from his perspective - that's my attempt to make Leon giving up his sword actually fucking make sense. Assume that after he got back he gave up his lands and title to become a vampire-hunting hobo. Otherwise, everything in LoI is assumed to have happened exactly as in the game.

And speaking of chin stroking, you might wonder what story Alucard would tell, if you managed to drag it out of him. Or what Leon told his kids.