Part Eighteen
Adrian's bare feet carried him silently through the Hold for a stretch, aimlessly making his way around several floors until he found himself standing before the distance mirror, looking at his own reflection in the dark. His mind was racing, replaying snippets of everything he'd said in his own defense and what Trevor had levied against him. The injury was too fresh to examine closely yet the pain made it impossible to ignore. He'd never been forced into defending himself that way before. He was used to standing up for his values, but this was different. This wasn't about right and wrong. It was about trust. Understanding. Acceptance. He needed time to find his bearing, take a moment to lick his wounds, regain his composure and think of how the situation could best be resolved. What a mess.
He sighed heavily, feeling guilty for reacting the way he had even though it was justified. Adrian knew he could have handled himself better. He'd let Trevor get him worked up, and in the end had stormed off after making a childish comment about not belonging with them which he knew wasn't true. Sometimes it was hard to feel like he belonged anywhere. He was willing to admit it was a touchy subject for him, and in that moment his emotions had gotten the better of him. He lit the nearby lantern and turned his attention to the mirror, studying himself in the flickering light.
His eyes were soft warm gold staring back at him. They caught the firelight and glittered, flecks of deeper gold laced through the lighter shades. They were framed in long, pale blonde lashes which he knew were rather effeminate. His hair and eyebrows were the same fair blonde. Tendrils draped over his shoulders and down his chest, curling at the tips. He had often wondered what he looked like to other people. Did he look human? Did he look like a vampire? His complexion was light, lacking the darker grey of vampires, but also not as warm or pink as human skin. It was unlike that of anyone he'd ever met. He bared his fangs. They were smaller than most vampires', but still needle sharp and quite capable of piercing flesh. Not human. Not vampire. Something in between that shouldn't exist. Something that didn't belong anywhere. His eyes were drawn to the new scars on his throat and chest. It was the first time he'd seen himself in a mirror since he got them. They were ugly and very noticeable, marring his previously smooth flesh. The mark his father had left him with had been one thing – at least he'd received it defending something important – but these new scars carried no such vindication. They denoted only his own failures. He looked away, wrapping his arms around himself and feeling physically ill. He had never experienced revulsion at his own appearance. On the contrary, Adrian knew he was attractive, and he liked feeling that way. It felt good. It gave him confidence. Would that change now? Would people see his disfigurements and scowl in disgust, or was that only his reaction?
He resisted the urge to shatter the glass as anger flared – he needed the mirror to find the castle – there was no sense in making that any harder. No matter how incensed he was over what had just transpired he also needed Trevor and Sypha's help. He would have to push his feelings aside and remain focused on their greater goal, but things were not going to be the same anymore. How could they be after what had just come to light? A simple apology wasn't going to negate everything Trevor had said. He wasn't sure he could forgive the hunter's lack of confidence in him so easily, as much as he wanted to.
Just when he was starting to feel like things would be okay between the three of them everything had been turned on its ear. It wasn't fair. He had worked hard to earn their confidence. What Sypha had offered him was unexpected and confusing, but it was also touching; it wasn't fair that it had become such a disaster.
He knew he was wallowing in self-pity. He needed to stop. His mother had never allowed such deleterious behaviour. It would be far more beneficial to put his energy to use than spin in hapless circles.
With that decision firmly in mind he redirected his focus from himself to the mirror he was standing in front of. He ran his hands along the metal, tracing his fingers over the scuffs that marred it. It was a lovely piece, the frame made of good-quality iron with few impurities. It had been polished and oiled at one point to keep it from rusting, and it was still entirely intact save the scrapes and cracked glass. It was likely at least four hundred years old, which was why its condition was so remarkable. With one claw extended, he carefully made the corrections that were needed to restore the mirror's functionality. It only took a few minutes and he could feel the energy emanating from it. It hummed silently under his palms as he grasped the edges of the frame, the magical frequency responding easily to his touch. Aside from his sword he didn't handle many magical objects. It was good to feel this one come to life in his hands.
A curl of anxiety grew in the depths of his stomach as he acknowledged that he could now use the mirror to see anything he wanted. He wasn't sure he was ready for what it would reveal. He was thankful that he was alone for the moment. Standing in front of the mirror, he placed one hand on each side of the frame in the correct locations to activate the spell that was inscribed in the metal. He stared into his reflection.
Show me my father.
Adrian watched as his image blurred and was slowly replaced by something different, a familiar face wearing a gloomy expression of sadness. His features were unchanged, though he perhaps looked more gaunt than usual. He appeared weary and grim, his black hair hanging around his face, much of it shrouded in darkness. Adrian could see flecks of blood dried on the edge of his cloak, nearly indiscernible from the black and red fabric. His father. Adrian nearly lost the image, his heart clenching and his breath hitching at the sight of the man's image in the mirror. The last time he'd seen his father's face was when it was contorted in insane rage as he was attempting to tear his heart out. He could still feel the tips of claws buried in his chest, his ribs snapping, the layers of muscle and tendon being easily shredded by his father's powerful blow. His scar veritably ached at the memory. His eyes were burning with the threat of tears and he made no move to stop them as they slid down his cheeks. He studied the picture the mirror showed him, looking at the details around him, willing the glass to zoom back, to show him Dracula's surroundings.
He was outside. Obviously it was dark, but the moon was bright and he appeared to be in a clearing, trees thick at the edges. He was standing over a hole in the ground. A grave. Freshly dug, as evidenced by the shovel stuck in a large mound of dirt beside him, and the dirt clinging to his claws. As Adrian watched he bent, his cape sweeping around him, hiding what he was doing. Adrian remembered playing under the cape as a child. He would tuck himself in its folds, laughing as his mother chased him and threatened to tickle him until he squealed with helpless surrender. His father had been a good sport, offering him safe-haven while his mother obtusely pretended she couldn't find him. In the end they'd both ended up wrapped in the cape together, Dracula inevitably turning the tables on the tickle-war and subduing them both mercilessly until the three of them were laughing so hard they were nearly crying. Adrian shook the memory from his mind and watched the image of his father gathering something from the ground. When he stood again there was a figure in his arms. A human body. Adrian frowned into the mirror, trying to understand why his father would possibly dig a grave for a human.
The dark-skinned man had been relieved of his heart, a gaping wound in its place. The body was not fresh. By the look of it it had been dead for some time, the features distorted and misshapen. The wound was dried at the edges and crusted with blackened blood. The man was bald, the outline of his skull visible beneath the thin veil of his flesh, the eyes sunken behind closed lids. Some simple tattoos marked his face. Adrian recognized the style of his clothing: black armor edged in gold details which covered his neck, shoulders and the undamaged portion of his chest. He was one of his father's officers, then. A bright red sash wound around his waist, confirming his assumption. A general. A human general in his father's army. That made no sense.
Adrian hadn't met many of his father's current officers. He'd already been asleep under Gresit by the time Dracula assembled his forces. He knew some of the other vampires he associated with, but he had not known of any humans. That went pointedly against everything he knew of his father, who was not trusting of humans even before Lisa's death. He pondered for a moment, watching as the corpse was carefully lowered into the open grave. Dracula then stood over it, simply staring sadly down into the darkened pit. He was speaking, but the mirror only transmitted images, not sounds. After a time his father took up the shovel and slowly began to fill the hole with dirt, one scoop at a time. Whoever this human was, he had been important. He had been someone his father cared for enough to bury with his own hands. It pained him that he would do this for some nameless human but when Adrian had needed him he had been met with murderous violence. The image flickered for a minute as he lost his concentration and he released the edge of the mirror, unable to see through his own tears.
His hand went to his heart, his eyes falling closed, He let himself be pulled into the painful memory that he had tried very hard not to think about since going to sleep beneath Gresit. After Lisa's death Dracula had been inconsolable, mad, brokenhearted. He had refused to see reason when Adrian attempted to talk to him. He kept repeating that all of them had to die. In that moment Adrian had realized that there was no other option but to stop him. His own heart was freshly broken from losing his mother, reeling with anger and sadness, and rather than comfort, Dracula had attacked him. He'd been dealt a mortal blow and was left to try and crawl to safety and pull himself back together alone.
He shook his head, trying to shake the memory away, not wanting to relive it again. It was too easy to get dragged into the sorrow of it. He looked back to the mirror, gripping it once more.
Show me the castle.
His wan reflection muddied and shifted until the image of the castle loomed large and beautiful against a backdrop of dark forest. It looked damaged. There were holes in some of the turrets, the battlements were missing entire chunks, and the figures of sculpted dragons and gargoyles had been smashed. Several windows were broken and some of the connecting bridges between the high towers were no longer intact, but the castle was there in all its glory, limned in the light of the full moon which sat low in the sky behind it. Adrian's heart ached strangely at the sight, as if he could walk inside and all the horrors that had transpired in the last year and a half would simply cease to be. It was a twisted illusion. He imagined his mother would be there, alive and well, smile bright and full of love. Home. His home, which he missed terribly despite everything which had happened. His grip on the edge of the mirror tightened.
His eye was drawn to a mass in front of the main entrance. He pushed the mirror to focus on that area and the image shimmered and reformed, bringing into view an all too familiar scene.
Pikes.
They jutted obscenely from the grass, horribly out of place in the otherwise peaceful looking forest. Each was at least ten feet tall or more, tipped with a sharpened point. Each pike was fashioned from an entire tree which had been jammed harshly into the soil with supernatural force. They stuck up at odd angles, different heights and diameters. Seven of them in all, each adorned with its own macabre ornament.
Corpses.
Seven dead bodies were impaled upon the pikes, their arms and legs swaying gently in the breeze. Their flesh was still grey and pale in the light of the moon, eyes sunken or rotted away, but recognizable by their fangs, their claws, and their adornments indicating rank or station. All of them were vampires. All of them were Dracula's own officers.
Seven of Dracula's vampire generals, impaled brutally on pikes in front of the castle.
Adrian refocused, making the mirror show him each disfigured corpse to he could study it and try to determine what had transpired.
Carmilla was the one he recognized first. She was a horrible bitch that Adrian had never liked. He didn't have a shred of pity to spare her, no matter how awful her death was. She had been needlessly cruel, and had never afforded his father much respect. She'd obeyed him grudgingly, always secretly plotting her own schemes for power. She was little more than a woman who had been damaged by men for centuries, and sought a desperate kind of revenge. Her heart had been black and empty and her loyalty was questionable at the best of times. The world would certainly not miss her and was absolutely better off without her in it. Her face was stretched and torn upon the largest pike, her skull split by the force with which her body had been jammed onto it. The wood stuck straight out of the top of her head. It had forced her eyes and tongue to pop out and dangle over what remained of her face. Birds had already pecked them away. There was blood all down the length of the wood, painting it black in the moonlight. She had been alive when she was impaled, Adrian realized. Her white hair wafted limply in the breeze, her long red claws sunk into the wood of the tree trunk, perhaps in some vain attempt to free herself before she'd died. It was a horrible death and she had very likely deserved it.
Raman and Sharma were the two he recognized next. He'd met the Indian vampires once as a young boy when they had paid his father a visit. They commanded many troops, and had a large and heavily populated territory. It was to Dracula's advantage to have them on his side. Likely he had summoned them to serve in his army. His father was royalty among vampires and they could not easily refuse his summons without facing retribution. Adrian didn't know how willing these two were as allies, but they had seemed to be friends when he'd met them before. Each of them wore a variety of gold decorations, jewelry and shiny armor. They hung dead from the wood which impaled them, their trinkets glittering in the night.
He knew Godbrand as well. The leader of the viking clans, Adrian had met him on a few occasions. He was memorable for his crass attitude and offensive war tactics. He was contorted oddly on the stake. It had penetrated his backside and had exited through his chest, making his head hang backwards. His corpse was already rotting, beginning to sag lower and peel away from the wood. His tongue was swollen fat in his mouth, forcing his jaw open so his fangs gleamed in the moonlight.
Cho. Adrian had never met her, but he knew of her. She had ruled Japan's vampire clans for ages. She was extremely old, perhaps one of the only vampires he knew of who had lived for millennia. He knew it was her by her robes and the geisha makeup she wore on her face. It was marred in death, her face deformed by the pike stabbing through it. It came through one of her eye sockets, her brains leaking out around the edges.
The other two staked corpses bore European features. One of them was a huge man. He had been beheaded, his body and head impaled separately on the same pike. Adrian didn't recognize them, but he knew his father had commanded the loyalty of many neighboring nations, so it was reasonable to assume they were from one of those places.
The entirety of the vampire world was going to be thrown into upheaval and turmoil as a result of these deaths. It was inevitable that more war would follow as each region was left without leadership and new contenders would vie for positions of power. Vampires sought the subservience and respect of those they managed to overpower or manipulate into obedience, and control over the human populations upon which they fed. These deaths would only lead to more war.
Adrian stared at the gruesome scene, trying to understand. It was well known that Dracula had a penchant for punishing those who betrayed or wronged him by impalement. He'd witnessed it before. Lisa had refused to tolerate such brutality in front of the castle, but Dracula had still employed this method of punishment behind her back. He'd made sure Adrian understood the importance of sending messages to their enemies. Such demonstrations were not merely posturing. They were a promise of what would happen to anyone who dared to defy them, and they were effective. Most vampires would really prefer not to end up mounted on a stick for all to see. This kind of death was mostly reserved for acts of betrayal and treachery. The generals must have turned on him. All of them, together. It wasn't hard to see why. As soon as they realized that his intent was not to corral humans into controlled populations of livestock, but instead to annihilate them entirely, they would have questioned his orders. Individually none of them could have refused him, but together they must have thought to stop him. Overthrow him. They should have fled, for their own sake. Still, it was unsettling to see all of them lined up on display; collected together were several the most powerful vampires in existence. Dracula had crushed all of them and he was no worse for wear. Adrian certainly had his work cut out for him. His father was nearly impossible to kill. Even if he were staked or beheaded, Adrian doubted he would remain dead. There were old stories of him being beaten before in one manner or another, and he always somehow managed to claw his way back to the Earthly plane. Rumors of such things circulated, but his father had refused to ever discuss them or offer any confirmation as to what was truth and what was merely the product of gossip and misinformation.
Adrian released the mirror, allowing the images to fade and his reflection to reform on the surface of the glass. The castle was obviously not in a major city at present. Maybe his father was retreating and taking time to reformulate a new plan of attack. The dead human had something to do with it as well, he was certain.
Trevor and Sypha would need to see this. There was no point in revealing more until all three of them were together to watch.
He would have face his companions sooner than he had hoped.
He was hesitant to go back to them, although it wasn't Sypha he was upset with. He knew it wasn't really fair to lump her in with Trevor in this matter. She hadn't been the one making wild claims based on assumptions and half-truths. She'd been caught in between their argument with little opportunity to offer her own input. That was unfortunate, because she might have been the voice of reason. She was good at that, especially when he and Trevor were too pig-headed to settle their own disputes.
Only this wasn't some petty disagreement in Adrian's eyes. Trevor had hurt him deeply. He'd listened to Adrian explain, sure, but had immediately jumped to his own conclusions without leaving space for discussion. Trevor had employed all the finesse of a battering ram. His words had been like a series of targeted attacks. He said the most hurtful things at the worst moments and Adrian hated the acid taste of his own anger in the face of it. He hated being forced to explain himself to the only people he thought would understand him in the first place. He was crushed by the misconceptions Trevor held onto after so many months together. Adrian was not unreasonable. He could forgive some of it without any explanation. Trevor had been raised to hate vampires. He'd been hunting monsters his whole life and he'd obviously never befriended any of them. He'd even been bitten by a vampire, which was probably as terrifying as it was painful. It was reasonable that he would assume the worst of them in general. That much Adrian could accept. He had expected that part.
What he hadn't been prepared for were the assumptions Trevor had made of him personally. As far as vampires went Adrian knew he was probably the tamest, gentlest one around. Couldn't he see that? Why did Trevor have to expect the worst of him? He felt that he had more than proven himself to be different. To be more. He thought Trevor had deeper confidence in him than that. He thought they had become very close, but maybe he was misreading things.
He considered some of the exchanges they'd had since things first became intimate between them. Trevor was obviously attracted by his vampire characteristics. He'd made that clear the very first night at the inn and several times since. Adrian had touched him with his claws and even grazed his skin carefully with his fangs. The hunter had been nervous of that initially, but had relaxed when Adrian assured him of his safety. Since then he'd never appeared bothered by or afraid of that side of him; on the contrary, he liked it. Trevor even encouraged him to perform oral sex, which was rather a terrible idea if you didn't have complete confidence in the vampire who's mouth you were putting your cock into. They had kissed plenty of times and Trevor was often drawn to his fangs, teasing them and intentionally arousing his instincts. He'd never shied away from Adrian's bloodied countenance either, not in the cage, or any other time. Even tonight when he brought back the deer there was no mention of his blood-soaked state. He hadn't reacted at all. If they had not discussed it specifically Adrian would never have guessed what was going through the man's head.
He must have some odd illusion that Adrian's animal-only diet was keeping him safe. If he really believed vampires went feral over the taste of blood as he had described, then as long as they never spilled it between them it was possible that a relationship could work. He was willing to accept brutal killing as long as it was restricted to animals. As long as Adrian didn't try to bite him or Sypha. As long as they were safe. Except there would always be a nagging worry that the thing sleeping beside him could become a monster at the slightest provocation. How unsettling. Adrian didn't think he'd be willing to accept those terms if their places were reversed. But… was this really so different from Adrian being willing to bare himself to a vampire hunter? Trevor could kill him too, if he were so inclined. The difference was that Adrian didn't question the hunter's self-control.
Maybe Trevor liked the danger. Maybe he liked knowing Adrian could kill him by accident, as he had so eloquently phrased it. Killing and death were nothing new to him. Savagery, rough living, all of it was taken in stride. Trevor didn't expect Adrian to be soft and gentle; evidently he believed he was accepting Adrian for what he was. He just had a skewed perception of that. The hunter himself was by no means a saint. He had killed men and monsters alike and he didn't lose a wink of sleep over it. He was less remorseful than Adrian himself was over causing death. Perhaps he felt he'd found a partner who could understand and accept his own violent inclinations. But what about Sypha? Trevor didn't worry about leaving them alone together. He didn't babysit her. Adrian smiled at that. She could easily defend herself. She didn't need to be watched after like a helpless woman. She could set people on fire with a flick of her finger. She was terrifying. Trevor had found two people who could look after themselves and would never be frightened victims. Two people who wouldn't shun him for what he was and the things he sometimes had to do. All three of them were potentially dangerous monsters if you looked at it in the right light.
Adrian sighed, turning from the mirror. This introspection was not constructive. He could stand here all night musing about why things had played out this way but it wasn't going to be resolved by reflection or dwelling. The only way to fix anything was to go back downstairs and face them. At the very least they needed to be able to work and travel together. He didn't know that he was ready to outright forgive Trevor or crawl into bed with the man just yet, but they had to at least be on speaking terms. He sighed, walking away from the mirror. As uncomfortable as it would be to go back, it was far better than brooding on memories of his father trying to rip his heart out.
He put the lantern out and left the room, wandering to the edge of the walkway which wrapped around the entire floor. He peered over the railing into the blackness and without hesitation launched himself over it and dropped like a stone past several floors, gracefully coming to the bottom of the Hold with barely a sound. He approached the room with the cots silently, lingering outside of it and listening to what Sypha and Trevor were talking about.
"-thick skull." Sypha was speaking as he came into earshot. She sounded like she was scolding someone. Trevor, obviously.
"Syph I said I was sorry, I didn't mean to be-"
"An asshole? No that comes naturally, doesn't it. I can't believe you. Do you have any idea how the things you said would make him feel? Do you think before you speak Trevor?"
"What, did you want me to lie?"
"No, I didn't want you to be so dense in the first place! How could you think any of that?"
"Well like I said, I didn't see any evidence against it. What the Hell was I supposed to do? Not say anything then worry about it after you got your neck ripped open? You don't get second chances with vampires Sypha. They're immortal. We aren't. One little slip and you're bleeding out on the floor. I've seen it enough times to know."
There was a pause, in which Adrian imagined Sypha pinching between her brows and fighting back the urge to set Trevor on fire. He smiled to himself. Just knowing that Sypha was mad about this made him feel a little better, even if Trevor still didn't sound convinced. "Trevor Belmont you test my patience."
"Sypha you can't tell me you weren't thinking I might be right before he explained. I didn't hear you coming to his defense."
"Oh no. You don't get to turn this on me. I will admit when I saw the bite scar you showed me and heard the things you said it scared me, but all I needed to do was remember that its Adrian and that was enough. Just looking at him and seeing how hurt he was by your words was enough. Yes, there are things I don't understand about him, but I'm not afraid of him. I trust him. Trevor... I love him. And I love you. It hurts to see you do this to him, especially after everything he's been through. He doesn't have anyone else, you know? We're his people. We're his friends and lovers and you basically told him you think he's some kind of monster."
"I don't have anyone else either, Syph. I never have. Nobody ever gave a shit how I felt when they were screaming me out of their towns and throwing piss pots on me and calling me a demon worshiper. Nobody coddled me and told me they cared or that they were sorry. People are shit."
"Then it should be easy to understand why you need to be better than that. Don't be shit Trevor. Be better. I know you are kinder than that. You've risked your life to help people more than once. You say you aren't afraid to die, and you throw yourself in harm's way all the time. You don't have to do any of that for Adrian. You just need to trust him. Pull your head out of your ass. Apologize to him."
"I… want to. I know he's not like the rest. I believe all the things he said tonight. He's more important to me than anyone but you. I hated saying those things and seeing how much it hurt him. But its hard to forget that feeling of teeth in me. What if we mix feelings and intimacy and blood together and he gets twisted up in it, carried away? What if he hurts you?"
There was a pause and Adrian wondered if they'd noticed him, but then Sypha spoke again, her voice softer and not so angry and sharp.
"I already told you before, its my decision and I've already made it. I want to do this. I'd really like for you to be okay with it. You can be there too, so you'll know I'm safe. I don't think its going to be a big deal, honestly. Its probably going to take a minute and be over with and all of this worrying and arguing will have been for nothing. Besides, it isn't fair to always make him conform to our human ways. He's not only human. Blood is important to vampires. It means something to share it. I love knowing that part of me will be inside him and make him strong. Its amazing to me."
"You're a strange woman, Sypha."
Their voices trailed off and there was fabric rustling, and Adrian imagined that they were embracing. His heart fluttered oddly at Sypha's words. What she had said about sharing blood meaning something was very insightful. His stomach felt like it had butterflies in it. She had said she loved him. He wished he hadn't heard it this way, listening in on them talking privately. He hadn't been meant to hear it, but now that he had it felt warm and soft inside him. It soothed a part of him that was painfully lonely and raw.
He entered the room, trying to make some noise with his feet on the stones so they wouldn't be startled by his sudden appearance. It was hard to come back like this after storming off. He didn't want to be the one to extend the olive branch. He wanted Trevor to hang his head and ask for peace, but they had more important matters to attend to at the moment. After everything he'd just heard he knew it was going to take Trevor some time to fully come around, but at least it sounded like he would. Eventually. Adrian didn't plan to give in too easily, though. He deserved an apology. A real one, not something forced by circumstance or propriety (not that Trevor was ever motivated by the latter).
The pair were indeed in the process of hugging one another tightly, Sypha's small figure folded into Trevor's muscular arms. The hunter was still bare-chested and Adrian's eyes were drawn to the scar at his shoulder for a moment until they shifted and it was hidden from his view by Sypha's head. Trevor looked up as soon as he passed through the doorway, sensing his presence before he even made it fully into the room. Maybe he'd known Adrian was eavesdropping the whole time. When their eyes met Adrian didn't look away, he simply regarded Trevor with the most guarded expression he could muster until the hunter looked uncomfortably to the side. Some tiny thing inside Adrian felt a measure of satisfaction at that, like he'd won somehow. That was probably not healthy. Sypha turned to see what Trevor was looking at and her face lit up when she saw him. She shrugged Trevor's arms off of her and came to meet Adrian halfway across the room, putting her hand on his arm.
He glanced at her uncertainly. He didn't want Sypha to think that his insulted feelings were in any way her fault. She gave him a watery, hopeful look and he felt himself soften in the face of it like so much melted gold. He wasn't meant to hear all the things she'd just said, but he had heard them and when he looked at her he couldn't help the way his heart skipped and his stomach flip flopped with a giddy sort of happiness.
"Adrian," she said with relief and pulled him tightly against her, wrapping her arms around his chest and squeezing him with what he assumed was all her might. She put her head on his chest and held him for a long moment. "I'm sorry," she whispered against him so only he could hear.
He blinked down at her as she held him like he was the most important thing in the world. His arms came around her gently to return the hug, her scent and heartbeat a balm to his frazzled emotions. He kissed her hair and murmured that it was okay, closing his eyes and letting her hold him until she was ready to let go.
He was aware of Trevor watching them with a frown.
When Sypha released him she stayed beside him with an arm curled around his waist. He looked from her to the hunter. "I fixed the mirror," he said before any discussion of earlier events could begin. "Its working properly. You need to come look."
He paused to pull on his boots, coat and gloves, not wanting to wander around the Hold bare foot and half dressed any longer. The sensation of the soft leather sliding over his hands and the high collar brushing the edge of his jaw was an inexplicable comfort to him. It felt like he was protecting himself from Trevor's judging eyes. A silly notion since the man had seen him naked on numerous occasions, but it was there nonetheless. The hunter evidently harbored no such inclination, not even bothering with boots as he obligingly followed Adrian and Sypha from the room.
A few minutes later the trio were gathered before the mirror once more, the single lantern lit and sputtering through some imperfection in the wick. It caused the flame to dance wildly and make hissing noises. Trevor was hanging back, not saying much and steadfastly ignoring Adrian, who was quite content with that for the moment. Adrian turned to he and Sypha, explaining everything he'd already seen in the mirror in full detail. He described the bodies on the pikes, the human man Dracula had been burying, and the damage to the castle itself.
"I don't know who the man he was burying could be. I wasn't aware of any humans in his company, or why he would have one there in the first place. My only guess is that it could be the devil forge master who he has been using to make night creatures. If that is the case then it could be a great boon that the man is dead because it will limit how many night creatures he can make, but that doesn't explain why he cared enough to bury him. I find it difficult to believe that the man was a friend, but it seems the only logical conclusion. Its fairly obvious that he was killed when the rest of the generals turned on my father."
Trevor was leaning against a bookshelf with his arms crossed over his muscled chest and a vaguely bored look pasted firmly over his features, though he was obviously paying attention. He didn't offer any comment. He just regarded Adrian with an indifferent sort of frown. Adrian knew him well enough to see past it.
"How does the mirror work?" Sypha asked, perhaps trying to break the tension between them.
"You place your hands here and here," Adrian showed her, taking her hands in his and setting one of them over each of the correct positions. He lingered against her, recognizing that it was childish to do so purposely just to irritate Trevor, and doing it anyway. He had his gloved fingers over hers on the mirror's frame, his body close behind her. "Its magical, you should be able to feel the energy."
"Oh I can feel the magic from it," Sypha said with a grin. "Its humming, like your sword."
Adrian released her hands and stepped back once she confirmed she felt something, so his thoughts wouldn't interfere with the mirror. "Yes, its ready for you to direct it. Look into the glass and tell it what you want to see. You have to keep concentrating on it or you will lose the image. Give it a try."
Sypha nodded and took a preparatory breath then stared intently into the mirror. Within seconds an image formed, a large city with a river flowing through it. Adrian recognized it as Braila from a trip he'd taken with his mother to purchase rare ingredients for medications she wanted to make. They'd returned home with far more than that, purchasing numerous bolts of fine fabric and several cases of an imported wine which his father was especially fond of. Braila was an important city because it was located near the borders of several other regions. The large waterway flowing to its ports allowed for trade with neighboring nations as well as transport to and from Wallachia. It was a bustling metropolis with many beautiful buildings and historic bridges arching across the canals, and a plethora of markets trading in local goods such as livestock, crops, wax, honey and salt. People came to the markets from many nearby nations. The city was an essential part of the Wallachian economy.
Unfortunately the scene before them was not as Adrian remembered it. Sypha had called up a bird's eye view of the entire city and much of it was decimated, although more than half appeared intact. Right in the center of the city where the largest bridges had been was instead a gaping black area of destruction. Sypha closed in on the damaged part which came into view revealing massive amounts of rubble, corpses littering the streets and the canal brimming with hundreds of bloated dead.
"Shit," Trevor said, coming closer so he could see as well.
Sypha pulled the view closer, zooming in on a heap of corpses which were piled together in an open space where several buildings had once stood. Trevor pushed his way forward and examined them more closely.
"Those are Dracula's vampire soldiers," he said, pointing to the figures clad in black. "And those are vampires too, but not from Wallachia. Maybe Styrian," he commented, pointing to the bodies clad in silver coloured armor with pointed helmets.
They looked at the massive pile of corpses. People were dragging more of them over and throwing them on the pile as they watched. There were other dead in the piles as well, several night creatures, and the rest appeared to be human. Most of the dead were vampires, however. Adrian didn't know how large his father's army was, but certainly a huge portion of it was dead before them, slowly being collected by the survivors. Many more were already burning on pyres nearby. It seemed the whole city was working to dispose of the heaps of corpses as quickly as possible. A lot of beautiful, intricate buildings had been destroyed. The cities largest bridge lay smashed to pieces. There were craters from explosions, the streets chopped up in places by the supernatural battle, but overall the city appeared to be recovering. It had fared better than Gresit or any other city which had been hit by the night horde unopposed.
"This must be where his generals turned on him," Adrian speculated aloud, looking over the destruction. "But where is he now?"
Sypha let the mirror go and the trio were faced with their reflections, all of them side by side in the glass, their faces darkened by the lantern which was still sputtering behind them. Sypha was in the center, Trevor to her right and Adrian on her left. He met Trevor's eyes in the reflective surface and the hunter stepped back, breaking his gaze away. Sypha sighed, visibly irritated by the animosity between the two men. She stood up and regarded Adrian.
"You two are going to have to talk to each other eventually," she said to him, but loud enough that it was obviously directed at Trevor as well.
"Sypha lets just find the stupid castle," Trevor said with exasperation, poking at a bookshelf to keep his hands busy. He plucked a book from the shelf and flipped it open as if he were reading it. Glancing at the cover Adrian was pretty sure he couldn't read the language but all he did was snort smugly, turning his attention back to the mirror.
"We should look inside the castle, see what state its in," he suggested. "Also we should find its location. Its nearly dawn; will need to rest before we can go anywhere. We've lost most of the night already."
"What the fuck?" They both looked at Trevor as the shelf he'd been pretending to be interested in suddenly collapsed and books spilled onto the floor at his feet. He didn't seem to notice, interested only in what was behind it. His hand smoothed over something and he frowned, knocking on the wall. A hollow sound echoed though the room.
"Its a false wall," Trevor said, pulling down the row of books below the one that had just fallen. He threw them carelessly to one side and grabbed the wooden shelf with both hands, yanking it forward and out of the way. He tossed it down as well, sending it skittering over the floor until it came to a stop halfway across the room. He was left standing before the now cleared span of wall, approximately the size of a doorway.
"A secret room," Sypha said excitedly, her eyes flashing as she forgot the mirror entirely and darted over to Trevor who was inspecting the wood for some kind of handle or method of ingress. After a moment he grew impatient and leveled a kick at the boards, shattering the brittle old wood easily even with his bare foot. He tugged the pieces away. Adrian watched with interest, wondering what sort of lovely secrets the Belmonts had deemed important enough to hide within their already hidden, booby trapped underground lair. He got that uneasy sensation that he'd had before entering the Hold and this time he wasn't going to ignore it. He shrank back, standing well out of the way, just in case. He wasn't taking a chance on getting impaled, trapped or poisoned a second time.
"Shit," Trevor yanked his hand back quickly, stuffing his finger into his mouth. Adrian smelled his blood. "Fucking cut myself for nothing. There's nothing here," he remarked once he'd cleared the wood away. All that lay behind the shelf was a stone wall. "It really sounded hollow," he said, disappointed.
"No, wait," Sypha said, squinting at the wall and spreading her hands over it. "There's magic here. I can feel it. I can smell it."
She felt along the bricks, trying to determine what was at work and how to get past it. She closed her eyes, placed both hands flat on the wall and just stood there for a moment. Trevor pulled his finger from his mouth to inspect the small cut. It wasn't deep, just a little gash on his index finger. A few drops of blood welled in the slice as he held it in front of his face. After everything they had discussed that evening Adrian wasn't about to comment.
"You sure Syph? It just looks like a wall, feels like it too I'll bet," he answered her, his tone skeptical. He put his hands over the wall, searching for anything out of the ordinary. The small bit of blood on his finger smeared over the stones and there was a blinding flash of light. Adrian didn't hesitate for a second, he disappeared from the room as fast as he could, his aura flaring red around him. He reappeared in the hall outside, patting himself all over, nervous that he might have been caught in a trap once more.
"Where'd Adrian go?" he heard Sypha say from the other side of the wall. Satisfied that he was still in one piece, but unable to shake that sense of danger which he had learned well not to ignore, he poked his head into the room warily.
"I'm here."
The entire wall had simply disappeared like so much smoke. It just evaporated as if it hadn't really been there at all. In its place was an opening to a darkened alcove that was emanating a deeply unpleasant sensation which made Adrian's skin crawl. He hung in the doorway, unwilling to go any closer.
"Why are you out there?" Trevor asked him with a raised eyebrow.
"I'm not going anywhere near that room," Adrian stated firmly. "Its… creepy."
Trevor snorted derisively at that. "I don't feel anything."
Sypha punched him in the arm. "It must be an anti-vampire spell," she offered by way of explanation. "Its certainly strong. Trevor I think your blood activated the doorway. It must only be accessible to Belmonts."
Adrian watched from the relative safety of the entrance as Trevor stepped into the darkened, closet-sized space. "Holy shit," the hunter breathed once he was inside. There were some shuffling sounds and a dragging, scraping noise and he came out pulling a large chest behind him. Adrian dared to take a single step into the room so he could see what they were looking at, but he stayed well away from the entrance to the secret alcove. "It can't be," Trevor breathed, running his hands along the gilded edges of the chest.
"Its… an old box?" Sypha guessed, but it didn't look as if Trevor had heard her. He was still examining the container as if the entire thing were made of gold. Adrian had rarely seen such an amazed look on his face.
"I know what this is," Trevor said finally, hunting around for something to break the lock with. He grabbed a rusted axe that was part of a display of armor and smashed the lock with the blunt head of the weapon, snapping the entire lock mechanism off of the chest in one strike. He knelt in front of the box and slowly opened it. Adrian watched with interest, trying to ignore the sensation like a hundred beetles walking all over him that was coming from the closet and to a lesser extent, the chest.
The lid creaked and fell back, revealing… a weapon. A weapon that Adrian knew immediately would seriously injure or even kill him if it were to strike him. He shivered, the unpleasant skin crawling sensation intensifying.
Trevor caressed the metal reverently, gathering it in his hands. The links of chain tinkled as they shifted in his grip. He stood up, holding the item between his hands and staring down at it with a queer look of excitement on his face.
"What is it?" Sypha asked, moving to stand beside him and giving the unusual weapon a good once-over.
"This," Trevor said, his voice laden with pride, "is the Morning Star."
As if to give emphasis to his words, he slipped into a battle stance several paces away from Sypha, deeper into the room. He wrapped one hand over the handle, grasping the chain a few feet from the end with his other hand and swinging the dangerous looking thing in a few small circles, testing the weapon's weight and movement. The total chain was nearly as long as his leather bullwhip, but he only used the last two or three feet in the tight quarters. Adrian nearly flinched when Trevor took a few experimental shots at some old junk in the corner, knocking his targets with the weight of the bladed metal flail portion on the end of the chain. Satisfied, he coiled the chain up and looked from Sypha to Adrian. "This weapon has been in my family for generations. Its the most powerful weapon we have against vampires. I thought it had been lost during the excommunication. I never expected to find it down here."
Sypha looked on the item with renewed appreciation, glancing at Adrian out of the corner of her eye. "You look like you're going to be sick," she pointed out.
Adrian stood up straighter, trying not to look so obviously disturbed. "I'm fine," he said tersely, though he knew it was unconvincing.
Trevor eyed him curiously. "Its consecrated silver, and also has a very strong anti-vampire effect. You can sense it?"
Adrian nodded slowly, glancing back to the shadowed room. "There are other items in there," he said, stepping back again, out of the way.
Sypha looked like she wanted to run into the little closet to see, but she stepped back and let Trevor go instead. "This is all your stuff Trevor, these are your family's artifacts. Your blood unlocked the door. You go."
Trevor attached the Morning Star at his waist and stepped back into the closet, rummaging around for a moment. He came out with a book and a smaller box made of wood. He handed the book to Sypha. She brought it closer to the lantern and Adrian eyed it warily. It was without a doubt the source of the horrible sensation of dread that had been coming from the closet. If he were in his wolf form his hackles would be all the way up. As it was he fought the urge to hiss and simply backed a little further away from the offensive thing, not even wanting to look at it. The book was large, the cover made of a strange greyish leathery material. It stunk. The face of the book was inlaid with a number of gleaming white shards arranged in some kind of image. Sypha ran her hand over the grotesque thing with curiosity, not yet realizing what it was made of.
"This is strange," she said, her brow creasing as she studied it, chewing her bottom lip between her teeth.
Trevor looked from the book to Adrian and back again, touching the white fragments that were stitched onto the cover with… hair. "Oh fucking gross," he said finally, realizing what it was.
"What?" Sypha asked.
"Its made of vampire flesh," Adrian supplied, remembering several books in his father's libraries which were bound in human skin. He hadn't liked those either. "And teeth. And hair."
Sypha made a disgusted expression and nearly dropped the book, but she managed to hold onto it, running her hand along the cover, over the numerous long white fangs which were sewn into it. She opened the cover, carefully turning through the pages, quickly absorbed by whatever was written on them.
"What does it say?" Trevor asked her, peering over her shoulder.
"Its…" Sypha trailed her finger running along the script of one page. "This may be very useful," she said finally, looking up from the book. "Adrian does this image look familiar?" she asked, pointing at something on one of the pages.
Adrian gulped, not wanting to seem afraid, but truly not wanting to go anywhere near the book. He inched marginally closer, trying to see what she was indicating from across the room. Trevor eyed him but didn't say anything. He took another step, all the little hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. Sypha was pointing to a diagram but the image was extremely detailed and he couldn't specifically tell what it was, though it was certainly part of the castle. He forced himself to go a little closer.
His ears began to ring, his teeth aching with shooting nerve pain going all the way into his sinuses. The ringing intensified as he got closer to the book until it was all he could hear. He hesitated on the spot, fighting a visceral reaction to run in the other direction as fast as he could. Sypha didn't seem to realize – how could she? She stood up with the book and moved closer to him. The ringing grew so loud he put his hands over his ears to try and stop it but it was coming from inside his head, pressing on his skull. His teeth were twinging with exquisite pain and his vision began going fuzzy at the edges.
"Hey Sypha hold on. Something's wrong," he heard Trevor say from far away. He was aware of the hunter stepping towards him, moving between he and Sypha, and of Sypha trying to go around him with a concerned look on her face.
He tried to take a step backwards and everything tilted and wavered, the ringing so loud it was as if he could see it. The world went painfully white, his limbs flailing at the last second as he tried to regain his balance, but he couldn't tell which direction was up anymore. He crumpled, unable to stand under the overwhelming pressure that felt like it was crushing his head. The last thing he felt was his head cracking on the stone floor, then everything went mercifully black.
~o~O~o~
A/N:Well. Treffy finally got the Morning Star! And Adrian got... the heebie jeebies! Sorry to end it on a bit of a cliffie, but its not a terrible one. Obviously that book is bad news for vampires.
And more importantly (depending on your priorities) nobody resolved anything from the last chapter! Complete and total refusal to talk about it from both our boys. Such maturity. I can't say I'm impressed by either of them. Poor Sypha, always having to be the adult. (By the way she's younger than both of them, only 19 because I said so but forgot to mention until now)
In other news, some shit went down in Braila and Dracula's generals all ended up on pikes.
I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I am eager to hear what you thought. More coming soon.