Alucard remembers the times when it would become too cold inside the castle during his childhood. He would wrap himself up in a heavy blanket and wander the halls seeking the warmth and comfort of his mother. Since Lisa had lived in the castle longer than her son she was used to the coldness of the stone walls, but every so often a shiver would run through her body as well (especially when the castle would be transported to the outskirts of Russia or the mountains of Norway). Dracula was much different; the cold never bothered him, and while serving in the military as a human, he had no choice but to adjust to the freezing temperatures if he were fighting against heathens in the North. Until his discovery of electricity and then the invention of a lightbulb, he only used the castle fireplaces for light. That changed however when Lisa began her apprenticeship with him. To accommodate her and make her feel more welcome he lit the fireplaces. Her gratitude warmed his heart much more than any fire could ever warm his body.
One night, unbeknownst to little Adrian, Lisa left the castle to aid a nearby village during a particularly harsh winter and she would not be back for a few days. He wrapped himself in his favorite blanket and wandered down the halls to his mother's lab. When he could not find her there, he walked to one of the smaller library rooms, one she occupied most often, but she was nowhere to be found. He whined woefully then scurried down the hall to the closest kitchen and dining area. He had hoped to find her there since she preferred to eat later into the night when she was knee-deep in research. When he couldn't find her, he gripped his blanket tightly with shaking fists and cried.
Upon hearing his son's cries, Dracula set his thick book aside and teleported quickly in front of him. He couldn't help but smile as he looked down at Adrian. His puffy eyes, wet reddened cheeks, trembling lower lip, and white nightgown reminded Dracula oddly of a baby cherub.
He is positively adorable; the mirror image of his mother, he mused.
The thought of his wife brought an even wider smile to his face and a small twinkle to his eyes. As Adrian's continued sobs shook Dracula out of his reverie, he bent down to pick him up when the child stretched his arms up to him.
"Papa," he whimpered pitifully.
"What ails you, my boy?" Dracula rewrapped the fallen blanket on Adrian's shoulders and used a corner of it to dab at the remaining tears that were beading on his son's long eyelashes.
"You were supposed to be sleeping, Adrian, what happened? Did you have a nightmare?"
The boy shook his head and held onto his father.
"No, papa."
Dracula arched his brow questioningly. "But you are shaking."
He was aware that Adrian was still susceptible to the cold, and it was something that he had hoped his son would outgrow as he got older and developed more as a dhampir. He also knew that Adrian usually went to his mother with these things, she could practically read his mind; but Dracula preferred for his son to open up more and talk about the things that bothered him, rather than assume that anyone was just supposed to know.
Adrian's frown deepened as he tugged on his father's shirt and stared at him with comically widening eyes.
Stubborn boy.
Dracula decided to humor him a little, so he lifted Adrian and pressed his ear to his stomach, much to his son's fussing.
"Hmm, your stomach isn't growling, so you can't be hungry."
"Papa!"
Next, Dracula lowered him back to the crook of his arm and pressed his palm to Adrian's forehead. Unfortunately for him, his father's palm covered the entirety of his face!
Dracula feigned worry, "Oh my, you aren't burning either! How peculiar, what could possibly be wrong with you?"
He laughed at his son's mumbled whining.
"What was that? You must speak up, how can I hear you?"
Adrian giggled and bit playfully at his father's fingers with his small fangs, which caused Dracula to remove his hand and reveal Adrian's beaming smile.
"Now, tell me what's really wrong, my son."
Adrian visibly shook, "I'm cold, Papa."
He sniffled as his eyes started to water again, shakily he muttered, "I tried to find Mama too, but I can't."
Dracula nodded and patted Adrian's back reassuringly. "I see. Well, your mother left the castle while you were sleeping. She's going to the nearby village to help…the humans," he said contemptuously.
Adrian cocked his head when he saw his father stare coldly into space with a faraway look in his eyes. He didn't know why he looked so mean but he didn't like it.
"Mama will be able to help them," Adrian replied innocently.
"Indeed."
"When will she be back?"
"In a few days." He smiled at his son. "Now, shall we do something about the cold?"
Adrian nodded eagerly.
Once they reached his room, Dracula continued to hold Adrian in his arms as they approached the back wall. Next, he raised one arm and placed his hand on it.
"We're going to try a small spell."
Adrian giggled. "Mama doesn't like spells."
Dracula chuckled. "No she doesn't, so let's keep this between you and me?"
Adrian met his father's eyes and smiled mischievously.
"Right then, this is a simple heating spell. Its main purpose is to warm the surrounding area within a few meters. Raise your hand, Adrian, and repeat after me."
"Okay!"
Dracula hugged him tighter to his body.
"This spell will be more effective than a meager fireplace. You'll never be cold again, my dear boy."
His father's loving words echo in his mind.
You'll never be cold again, my dear boy.
Alucard sat in the armchair facing the fireplace, being warmed neither by the crackling fire nor his fond memories. Mistress Death stood a few feet beside him after refusing to take the seat when he had offered it to her. The eerie chill Alucard had felt earlier died down to a slight discomfort as a result of the awkward silence that hung between them. As he watched the fire, he waited for her to speak. Her mouth opened and closed slightly a few times until finally, she said, "I did not mean to run into you tonight."
"No? Neither did I. It was…jarring, to say the least," he replied.
She hummed in agreement.
For a few moments, he drummed his fingers against the arm of the chair before clearing his throat and turning to face her.
"You said that you were here to mourn." She cringed inwardly. "I want to know how you've come to know my mother."
She sighed heavily. "It's nothing worth mentioning."
"I disagree."
She crossed her arms and scowled at him.
"What good would it be for you to know?"
His eyes narrowed as he stood.
"I watched you caress my mother's portrait not too long ago –"
She scoffed, "— And what of it?"
"You two were obviously close and I only ask what your relations with her were. Have I no business to know?"
She turned her back to him. "You shouldn't concern yourself with such trivial things, boy. Knowing won't bring her back from the dead," she spat.
His jaw clenched. Why is she being so defensive? Was her relationship with my mother so wrong that she chooses not to speak of it? His suspicion grew with every second he pondered this thought.
"I do not come from a place of ill intent." He slowly approached her, hands raising slightly, "I only wish—"
With a growl, Mistress swiveled her head around and fixed him with an icy glare; her wild eyes and bared teeth made Alucard stop dead in his tracks as caution fluttered in his belly.
"...to know," he finished weakly. Her explosive, almost frightening, anger confused him.
"Why?" she asked pointedly.
Alucard held her gaze for a moment before twisting his face into a dispirited frown. He exhaled tiredly and trudged back to the armchair, collapsing into it. Mistress followed his movements. Her face softened as she watched his shoulders slouch and his eyes lowered to the floor.
"Because—you looked at her as my father once did."
As he said that her heart dropped.
He only wishes to know.
She wrung her hands together and chewed at her lower lip, bowing her head in silent shame. For centuries Death had prided herself on her indifference as a detached entity. She only observed the fleeting lives of humans and monsters alike and appeared only to those who had the courage and power to summon her. Contrary to popular belief, it was never she who reaped the souls of the dying but her vast legions of underlings, whom she created. She hardly involved herself with the lives of others and had always intended to keep it that way. However, even she was not immune to the assault of emotions she often ridiculed lesser beings for having. As ancient as she was, these feelings were still new to her and the complexity of it all almost made her sick. In a moment of vulnerability, she had revealed herself to Alucard as she held Lisa's portrait. She was infuriated with her carelessness, even more so when she cried in front of him. This grief exhausted her, and his presence chipped away at her fragile being. His constant prodding only served to anger her further, causing her to lash out. Had she known Alucard would be here, she never would have come.
He reminded her too much of them.
Their child, born of love.
Her lip began to quiver.
When Lisa and Dracula died, she had finally understood grief. Humans (and even some monsters) were created to experience emotions. She was not. She clutched herself tightly and shivered violently.
Damn these emotions, damn them all!
As much as she tried to deny it, she had realized at that moment that Alucard–
"…is all I have left," she whispered, eyes widening.
She ground her teeth and balled her fists.
How much more of this can I take!
She edged towards him with heavy, hesitant steps. As she neared him, she noticed that his hands were trembling, and he was panting as if he were desperately struggling to hold himself together. His anguish filled her with compassion, so she rested a gentle hand on top of his hoping that it would comfort him. When he lifted his head, she avoided his gaze and abruptly removed her hand before he had the chance to respond. She laced her fingers together and resumed her original position in front of the fireplace.
She kept her eyes trained on the dying flames and when she spoke, her voice was emotionless.
"I have existed for millennia, manifesting because of the fall of man. I never spoke, nor laughed, nor smiled, for I had no face to smile. I was born as an indescribable thing, shapeless and slithering and ugly. And in earlier civilizations of men and monsters, I was feared because I was inconceivable..." Alucard swallowed nervously as he watched her shadow twist and writhe in a frenzied mass of tentacles and other horrid, pulsating forms. He struggled to stop himself from summoning his sword. He'd feel safe yet humiliated, so he took her behavior as a challenge.
His skin began to crawl when a deep, guttural, disembodied voice droned in his ears. As Mistress Death continued speaking, this voice repeated her words simultaneously.
"Those who gazed upon me were rendered immobile as terror set in their bones and their spirits became devoid of hope." A violent shudder ran up his spine.
She craned her head towards him and strayed a glance with chilling, empty eyes.
"I just am death, and it's all I ever was," she stated matter-of-factly.
In the blink of an eye, she disappeared with no sound or sign of her departure.
Alucard's heart dropped when he sensed her appear behind him.
She stared down at him from above, observing him with a piercing gaze, like how a predator watches its prey. Strands of her long hair wisped gently around her as if blown by an invisible wind, and the rest cascaded forward, trapping her and Alucard in a snowy white curtain.
Although beads of sweat began to form on the back of his neck, he looked into her ghostly eyes, leveling her with his own cold stare, not wanting to be intimidated (or appear as if he was). They stayed like this for several heartbeats.
Mistress Death seemed like an utter paradox to Alucard. Just how her white hair contrasted with her dark skin, so did her beauty clash with the nightmarish horror of her true form.
How did my mother ever get caught up with this…woman?
When she seemed satisfied her hair settled neatly back into place. She hummed to herself and moved to stand beside the chair. He watched as she hugged her shoulders and looked down at the floor. She inhaled deeply through her nose and exhaled shakily.
With a voice heavy with the weight of sorrow and remorse, she confessed, "As long as I've existed, I've never felt anything towards any other being until your parents came along. I loved them fiercely and now they are gone from me. You are the child born of their love, which means that you are all I have left of them. This world and those in it mean nothing to me, but you are the only exception."
His eyes widened and his mouth gaped like a fish. As terrifying as she was Alucard felt strangely comforted by her words. He had no friends once Trevor and Sypha left. Since their departure, he guarded the castle and the Belmont hold and even defended Wallachian villages from the various monsters that roamed in the night. No longer called the "sleeping soldier" he became the "guardian angel" and remained anonymous to the Wallachians. They praised him but they did not knowhim. He honored his mother through his duty and even felt somewhat fulfilled by it, but unfortunately, it wasn't enough. His isolation ate away at him and caused him to long uncontrollably for companionship. He was a powerful dhampir, son of the dark lord Dracula, and defender of Wallachia. Howbeit, his loneliness reduced him to a shriveling mess, and he considered himself weak for it. Over time he's bottled up this vulnerability and suffered silently. He was as stoic as he was prideful yet being treasured by Mistress made a light blush rise to his cheeks.
"I never even loved myself because there was no need to. My presence simply was death. I existed for no other reason."
She clutched her amulet absentmindedly.
"I knew Dracula far longer than I knew Lisa; he was my friend. I first met him when he summoned me while he was human, begging me to help him achieve immortality. I dismissed his wishes and turned him away, but when he summoned me a third time, he proposed that he earn immortality instead."
"How so?"
She showed him her amulet. "By re-creating this, the Crimson Stone. It's one of the most powerful treasures in the supernatural world."
The Crimson Stone? Alucard's only knowledge of the stone came from brief mentions of it in a few books from the Belmont hold. There wasn't enough information to keep him interested, but he only knew that it was an alchemic jewel created by an ancient Egyptian priest around 3000 BC.
He stood and stretched his hand out to her, "May I?"
She removed the amulet and placed it in his hand. As he observed it, she continued, "It has the power to trap vampire souls and grant it's owner immense supernatural power."
He hummed softly. Alucard was always impressed by his father's proficiency in the dark arts. "Interesting, how did he go about re-creating it?"
"Your father was as skilled in alchemy as he was in science. His vast knowledge was one of the things I admired about him, but I do not know exactly how he did it. However, even if he failed, I would have granted him his wish."
Alucard cocked his brow. "Why?"
Mistress Death flashed her teeth. "I've always found mankind's desire to cheat me to be…commendable. The lengths some have gone through to achieve immortality have been rather—" she smirked wickedly "–entertaining."
He shrunk back at her words, a disgusted frown making its way onto his face. He handed the amulet back to her and placed a hand on his hip.
"That's all good and well, but it still doesn't answer the question about my mother."
Her lips downturned and her brows knitted together as she wandered towards Lisa's portrait again. He followed closely behind and stood at her side, noticing how her eyes were becoming moist.
"Your father and I were like kindred spirits, solitary beings who only ever sought the company of one another. Even still, his loneliness was like that of…" she grasped for a word.
"…an icy well," he murmured sadly.
She nodded. "Right. Our friendship could not fulfill him, and he was miserable even in my presence. I cared deeply for him and wanted him happy. When he met Lisa, I didn't think much of her; I figured that she was his apprentice and nothing more. She was hardly special in my eyes for she was only another human."
She placed a careful hand on Lisa's portrait, leaning forward slightly to stare deeply into her eyes as if she were engaging in an actual conversation with her.
"However, she filled a void in him that I could not and for that, I would always be grateful. He cherished her greatly and because he loved Lisa—" she lowered her hand to her chest, "—I loved Lisa. And because I loved her through him, I desired to know her as he did, until I eventually became fond of who she was and not only what she did for Dracula."
Alucard's head tilted as he smiled softly at her confession. Mistress blinked rapidly to prevent her tears from flowing. Her throated constricted tightly, causing her breathing to stutter, so she turned her body away from Alucard to prevent him from seeing her cry…again.
Damn it. She scolded herself.
Confessing her love for them was nothing compared to revealing how she properly met Lisa. Ever since the day she saved her, a continuously swelling apprehension had settled heavily in the back of her mind until her worse fear was realized. She had saved Lisa but also damned her to an even worse fate.
I can't do this. She thought panickily. I can't tell him; I can't relive this!
"Mistress." His voice broke her from her thoughts, and she groaned internally in anticipation for what she knew he was about to ask.
"Perhaps another time," she replied coldly. "I am tired."
Alucard was slightly disappointed he didn't get the exact answer he was hoping for. He still wanted to know exactly how Mistress and his mother met, but he was still grateful for all she revealed to him tonight. He speculated that it might've only been a simple introduction between them by his father, but as dodgy as she acted tonight, he doubted that was the case. There was something she wasn't telling him, and it made him itch to know.
She lifted her hood back on her head and walked towards the door. As she departed Alucard felt his spirits slowly sink. As strange as this encounter was, he felt less alone with her here, and the thought of returning to his isolation scared him.
"Will you return?" he blurted out before she crossed the threshold.
She stopped in her tracks. "I cannot say that I wish to see you again."
His shoulders lowered in despondency.
"But… if you want me to return, I shall," she said hesitantly.
Hope blossomed in his chest. "I would like that."
"Until then, Alucard."
He placed a hand over his heart and gave a small bow. "Please, call me Adrian. It's what my mother named me after all."
She looked back at him, the corners of her lips lifting into a small smile.
"Alright, Adrian." She vanished in a wisp of black smoke.
Once she was gone, he placed new wood on the rack of the fireplace and summoned fireballs to feed the weakening flames. When he was satisfied, he discarded his coat and settled back into the chair. He placed his chin in his hand as he recounted his first encounter with Death, and eagerly waited for her return.