20. Rue the day

The cold night was dewy and humid, and her steps were swift and floundering. The lone figure traversed the forest path leading away from the castle, her gaze ever watchful. This was, after all, a most surprising country in its savagery, as Ravenna had discovered firsthand. But even though she was afraid, need and fury drove her more than anything else. A need to fly and be away, one which not even her fear of the night and its terrors could suppress. But anger was the most potent of them all. She had been somewhat of a fool.

Her boldness had been daft, and it was a foolish err to think she could anticipate him. But most of all Ravenna felt the greatest idiot for thinking she could help someone like him, in any way, shape or form. A part of her still wondered what had driven her to act as she did. She pondered on what had made her goad him so shamelessly into intimacies he clearly had no intention of pursuing? Ones she herself had no notion of, apart from sparse learnings from forbidden writings? On the contrary, all of it had brought about such distress that Ravenna thought he may actually harm her, such was the insane spark of resent in his eyes at the time. Hateful. Ravenna bit back a sob as her steps gained in speed. But not at first. At first, his mouth had been warm and welcoming, his body so perfectly arrayed to hers, his touch so unexpectedly nourishing and enveloping. And it felt so right to meld into him and all that he was; so honest and raw, as if his own life force surged within her through some arcane sharing... Her brow furrowed.

The blood.

Of course, there had been surely something he did not tell her, either due to reluctance or from an aversion to delving deeper into what was an uncomfortable topic. Ravenna figured it all had a role, but it was yet to be the main cause. More fool you, for dreaming of valiant deeds of caring for vampires and shapeshifters.

In her hasty flight the young woman had taken nothing except her dagger and the clothes she now wore - a pair of worn leggings and a long knee length tunic which she cinched with a leather belt. She had also taken a dark hooded cape from the few abandoned garments found in her borrowed bedchamber. When Ravenna fled from an irate and feral Adrian she ran straight to her room, and as she became engrossed in her hasty arrangements the gifted manuscript caught her eye. The woman recalled herself standing still and gaping at the tome for a good few moments, open as it lay on the bed where she left it.

How could he think I did it all to use him, when I had not even the slightest idea this existed?

He could not have been more wrong, but what was the use in wondering about it all anymore? Unfortunately this creature was clearly lost, whatever he had lived through bursting violently against any attempt of connection. Pridefully, Ravenna at first made for the door, intent on leaving his gift behind if only to prove her mettle. But then the young woman recalled the higher need which drove her, and the main goal leading her weary travels into this God forsaken country. For better or worse, it had been a gift. And she had nothing to prove, despite his delusional and hurtful accusations. And it would be put to good use, for his own redemption among others. No matter that he would never know of it. She took the tome.

Now, as Ravenna trudged through the forest she turned her head up to the sky, only to feel drops of wetness caress and tickle her skin in sharp cold beams. Wonderful. Just what I needed.

She pulled the cloak and hood tighter around her shoulders, and grasping her dagger closely beneath the folds of her garment Ravenna pursued through the forest. She would not rest, she could not afford to. Firstly, it was perilous to linger, and secondly, she wanted to reach a human settlement as soon as possible. She had very little coin left, but it would have to do. Her return journey would not be an easy one in the least, but what mattered was for the tome to reach master Ovidius. Ravenna would have needed more time to read it here, in conjunction with the information she still had to sift through from the vault. But as things stood, even a partial aid was better than none.

She walked for most of the night, her mind full and spirit aching, fortunately encountering no setbacks of any kind. Well there must be some balance, Ravenna considered her luck wryly. She only stopped to rest for a short while, taking shelter beneath thicker crowned trees when the downpour became stronger. It was yet predawn when her wearied eyes caught a flickering light in the distance.

The rain returned. A curtain of mist veiled the view of the world from the castle, and the sound of water striking against its stone walls hammered its tune relentlessly into his mind. Alucard closed the book which had failed to capture his attention, and rising replaced it onto the shelf. There was peace, there was quietude. And then there was the half-empty beat of his heart, yet to be free of a burden he never asked for. Why this place? Why, out of all the places and people sent on one quest or another in this whole damned world, did it have to be her? He still felt her presence, a day after her leaving. Or perhaps it had not even been that long.

As his feet took him to the study, Alucard tried and failed to forget and bury the trembling words thrown at him before he angrily sent her away. They milled and ruminated, leaving him more confused than the son of Dracula ever recalled, and more wanting than he dared to admit.

I feel for you.

And the dreadful irony of it all, was that the moment the words left her mouth he believed them. Alucard had wanted to believe the truth of them, but still failed to go past the wall so suddenly raised between them - one of his own making, at that. His tired gaze flitted to the window, and the dhampir went to lean with his palms against the pane. Well, she was gone now, and there was nothing he could wisely do about it. Nor did he want to, no matter how vividly her taste lingered on his tongue, no matter how much he wished to feel her hands on him again. Alucard had hoped this was all mainly owed to the remnants of her blood still wreaking havoc on his insides, but the stubborn feeling of loss and need persisted. He had done it only to protect himself, to keep it all from spiraling into disaster again.

And this is so much better, his divided mind quipped, and he grimaced before lowering his head. Alucard turned and looked to the narrow table, where two wine glasses still sat empty. Actually, hers was yet half full.

Pride had never been his main sin, and so that prevented Alucard from savagely rejecting the following thought. Had he made some sort of mistake? He could not run after her at the time, with his mind yet on fire and his spirit confused. The damage had been dealt and there was more harm than good to come of it. Well, it mattered little now. Once the darkness had receded from his manner that evening the dhampir sought Ravenna in her chamber, though what for, he knew not. Alucard may have wanted to discuss with her further. He may have wished to at least retract his threat, and give her more time. But when there was no response, he saw that the woman had kept to his condition. She was already gone.

With his thoughts as torn and being pulled apart by doubts akin to ravenous wolves, Alucard left the study to pace through the castle. The structure had regained its aura of pressing emptiness, and his ghostly steps were the only ones discernible through the gloom. The castle was barren, the gates barred once more. There surfaced a wish to be free of it, to leave the confines of its walls where yet another memory of loss now dwelt. Alucard hastened his stride, and wearing his long coat and sword he went outside. The heavy rain dampened his hair and garment, and he raised his head to the skies, allowing the cold droplets to fall and drench his fevered skin and eyes. He began walking again, straight towards the Belmont Vault.

Once inside Alucard pulled the lever which kindled the lights. What struck him rather unexpectedly, was that even here, she still permeated the air. The memory of red forest berries and wine, and something of her on his skin nearly caused him to curl in on himself, such was the longing to taste it again. What have you done to me? he wondered dryly, knowing full well it was unfair to think so. The blood... it is only due to the blood. Soon it would weaken, and he would be free of it. Or so Alucard hoped as he absently touched one of the tomes, still spread over the reading table Ravenna used during her time spent here.

Have I made a mistake?the stubborn question formed again, just as his eye caught another remnant of the past. Not far from him was an object which caused his golden eyebrows to form a frown. A wide, cracked mirror with an unknown script carved into its edges. It was the distance mirror he and Sypha had used to find and capture the castle of his father, once upon a time. It all felt like ages ago.

Alucard tried fighting it. He really did. But the hellish question remained, as did the torment of a longing he failed to completely smother. But there is no other choice. And it was all his doing. Alucard approached the mirror, another new thought brimming with ruthless insistence.

If only to know she was alive. If only to see she was well. He removed his glove, and using his clawed finger began to carve the required arcane symbols into the metal frame of the mirror. Alucard propped his hands against the metal edges. He looked downward with a sigh, a last moment of hesitation.

"Show me the Styrian," he spoke the brittle words unto the mirror, and before his eyes colors and patterns began to seep through the reflective surface in uneven waves.

And then there was her face, the arresting eyes Alucard had always found so unnerving and intriguing, try though he did to avail himself of their beauty. His chest was aflame with the image of her, so far and out of reach now. She was cloaked, and there was resignation in her tired gaze. Alucard could not see any more of her.

His hands trembled anew, and the dhampir rued the day she set foot into this tomb. And the realization that his fear had gotten the best of him struck its blows, and guilt began its festering torture. Deep within himself now lay the ruined remnants of a possible friendship. Alucard rested his forehead against the cold glass, and his sigh misted the mirror. His hand came splayed over the surface, fingers clawing over the vision of her face. "If only you had less pride, and I more sense..." he whispered to no one.

I would never harm you.

Alucard stepped back from the mirror as if burnt, and the image of her disappeared. He placed his head in his hands, and under the weight of his mind, heart and the added burden of his mistake his knees buckled and he fell. But she was alive. She had survived the night, and as he had guessed and hoped, despite her lacking physical skills this woman seemed to thrive on willpower alone. She would make a successful return, and continue her work. She had to.

Now all was well and good, if only he could cease thinking about her. Alucard rose after a good while, wanting to busy himself with the mundane work of arranging items in the vault, an attempt to keep his mind anchored into the present. No sooner had he turned away from the mirror than a shrieking sound filled his ears. Screaming. There was struggling. And then his heart was beating wildly, as when faced with impending peril. No, these sensations, though alive and real, were not his.

Alucard sharply turned and approached the distance mirror again, placing his hands on either side of it. He took a deep breath, and before he could change his mind he spoke the words.

"Show me where she is."