Convincing people Leon was human was not particularly difficult. Not usually. This group was odd, since they seemed so adamant he shouldn't exist, but he knew a way around it. Temporarily taking off his glove, Leon used a silver knife to make a small incision on his hand. The fact the blessed silver did not react at all to his skin nor blood seemed enough to set the trio at ease.
As his blood hit the air, Leon kept a close watch on the vampire. He had made no moves, but Leon was not stupid enough to think the vampire had not noticed his blood-or his test. He kept his guard up.
Neither of the other two would, apparently. So, convincing them of the danger of the vampire would have to wait, at least until he gained their trust. There was another obstacle to focus on.
Convincing people of his goal and his ability to see it through had always been the most difficult part, or so Leon thought. No one wished to know of or believe in a powerful vampire lord in their country, but even those who knew needed convincing said vampire lord could not be ignored.
At least the three before him-hunter, scholar, and vampire soldier-accepted his fighting skills. One less thing to convince them of, if he could convince them of anything.
"Despite the fact he had been moving around, constant travel is more harmful than beneficial to a vampire," Leon explained. "Besides which, he gained quite an amount of power in the way he turned. He is certainly strong enough to overcome any regional vampires and set himself up as a ruler of the area, which gives him time to create a stronghold. This 'Dracula' must be the same vampire I was chasing, especially since you say 'the Belmont family moved here while chasing him.'"
"Well," the hunter-and-supposed-other-Belmont hedged, scratching at his unkempt chin stubble, "it's what I was told, anyway. We were a family of hunters, we followed the work."
Leon, despite being unsure how this man would know such things, or if he was an actual Belmont, said, "Yet I and Trefor were the only ones who travelled here. There were no others."
Trevor-and wasn't that a funny naming coincidence-grimaced. "Right."
"That's another thing you keep saying." The vampire leaned in from his side of the table, eyes flinty. He might've been angry about having to sit and listen to someone he wished to kill, or he may have just been sore about losing the previous fight, but most likely, Leon thought, he was just as cold as the other vampires Leon had hunted. Regardless, Leon stood-or sat-strong under the penetrating gaze. "Why do you keep acting as though you are truly Leon Belmont when it is quite clear he would have been dead by this time?"
"Well why do you keep saying I'm dead?" Leon shot back.
"And why," Trevor lamented, "does no one listen when I say he's from the past?"
Sypha reached out and patted his hand from the other side of the table.
Earlier, they had found a small round one to have their discussion, just large enough for a person on each side. Apparently, they thought Leon needed watching and placed Trevor and Sypha on either side of him, which left Leon and the vampire glaring each other down while the other two played mediators.
"I'm listening," said Sypha. "Unlike everyone else here, it seems. Trevor, what did you say Leon mentioned that made you believe he was from the past?" Trevor hummed.
"First, I guess he mentioned having used some spell meant to preserve the materials here. Which explains the magic explosion." He rubbed a hand over his neck watching the others at the table. "Then he mentioned the exact year Leon moved the family-er, himself, I guess, here. And he knew the name of his travel companion, which was so long ago in our family history, no one outside of the family should know or care about it."
Sypha nodded even as the vampire crossed his arms. "What was his name?" asked the Speaker.
Leon blinked as her eyes turned to him, a little flutter of surprise in his stomach, but he answered. "Trefor. He was my travel companion through most of these lands, all the way from Alsace in the Kingdom of France, though of course that was not his homeland."
"It was Wales," Trevor piped in. "At least, I think so."
"That's... correct."
Trevor shrugged, his movements jerky, as though choosing between several actions all at once. He cleared his throat and added, "He's who I was named after, apparently. So."
"Ah! That explains it," Sypha said. "I had wondered why your name didn't sound Wallachian."
"Fine, so he knows things Leon Belmont would know," the vampire cut in. "What, exactly, makes us so certain that he is the true Leon and not simply a well designed trap to protect the Belmont Hold?"
The vampire leaned back and Sypha stopped her happy wiggles, both looking once again at Trevor. The hunter coughed, eyes flicking over to Leon several times, but then away again each time.
"The last thing... is physical proof." Trevor finally met Leon's eyes. It looked as though he was chewing on the inside of his cheek before speaking again. "Could you pull out your weapons?" When the atmosphere grew tense, Trevor backtracked, waving his hands back and forth as though trying to negate his previous implications. "Just to set on the table. It'll make sense."
"So long as I don't get attacked," Leon mumbled in acquiescence. Eyes mainly on the vampire across from him, Leon reached down for both his sword and his whip. Those were his main weapons and probably the ones Trevor meant. Either that, or Leon would have to remove all his hidden knives, an advantage he wasn't keen on giving up.
Onto the table went his sword and whip; He curled his fingers around Sara protectively, just long enough to reassure himself before letting go.
The others leaned forward for a better view. "Alright Trevor," said the Speaker, "What are we looking for?"
But the vampire's brows furrowed, and he traced the details of both weapons with his eyes. When he brought his head up to look at Trevor, the hunter graced him with a nod.
Leon frowned. What were they meant to see which the vampire had caught on to? A feeling itched in Leon's hands, which suddenly felt bare.
"Here," Trevor said. He removed his own sword and laid it across the table next to Leon's. A gasp sounded, along with a hum, and a small hiss through clenched teeth. The other two must have seen what Leon had: The swords were identical.
From the length and shape, to the adornments of the scabbard, to the hilt and even the decorated pommel, the two swords shared the same blessing of the Belmonts.
It wasn't possible. Leon leaned back, eyes trapped on the vision before him. Leon had the sword custom forged before he left France. It had been both a replacement for what he had given up when he left the crusades, as well as an oath of protection for any who suffered from creatures of the night. There should not be another like it, yet there it sat, a perfect duplicate, down to the crest stamped on the scabbard.
What did it mean?
Could he have really come into the past? Leon was flabbergasted, but starting to think the bizarre suggestion was actually the most likely-the only one which would make sense.
And while the Speaker seemed to be thinking along the same lines, the vampire appeared to need more convincing.
"Are you certain this isn't just one of several similar blades found down here? Or that it didn't simply manifest when the trap was sprung?"
Trevor sighed and reached down to his sides again, digging around in his belt cloth until he came up with a whip. But not the whip of metal links he'd fought with before, no. The whip was leather, oiled and well taken care of, and it sang of magic. It was her.
Leon placed both hands on the table and nearly stood, feeling like he might shake right out of his skin. "Where-?" he choked. His mind was made up now, solid as a tombstone. He had to be in the future. There was no other way for this whip to sing at him with Sara's magic, fainter, but distinct.
Trevor leaned back, arms crossed, but his smirk had no fire behind it-as though he put on a mask for the sake of performance.
"It's blessed, as I'm sure our resident bloodsucker knows."
"I do not drink blood, Belmont." Leon broke out of his trance staring at the whips to stare at the vampire instead, sure his incredulous disbelief was written all over his face.
But Trevor just continued, ignoring the obvious falsehood. "Well, you can't summon, conjure, or manifest items which are already blessed. It'd make the job a lot easier if that were the case. You can touch them if you don't believe me."
The vampire ignored the more genuine smirk sent his way. "That's perfectly alright. Sypha?"
She nodded, hands hovering over both whips. "I don't sense anything strange about either of them, but I never had an inclination towards that sort of magic."
"It's not magic," Trevor sighed.
"And it's not a blessing." Leon sat down as the other three rounded on him. He gathered up his own whip again, hands gently curled and gut heavy as a building stone. "There is a story behind my whip. But it was never a blessing. It is the end result of a great and noble sacrifice."
The vampire scoffed. "Why am I not surprised to learn that a Belmont weapon required a sacrifice. What did you do, kill a girl under the moonlight-?"
Leon stood so quickly he knocked over his chair. Despite the resounding crash of wood hitting stone, Leon roared right over it, "Do not, ever, speak so flippantly of those events again."
The vampire stood as well, fluid and sharp, all at once. Sypha was summoning magic and Trevor was saying something in a 'calm down' tone, but Leon couldn't even spare a thought to them, a fever burning in his heart and his mind drowning out all others as he glared across the table. His face was burning and his voice growled and cracked.
"This whip was made through one of the most difficult decisions of my life. It was a sacrifice I still think about, still mourn, and is one that would never have happened had that vampire not decided to spite God." Leon felt the words tumble from his mouth, emotion sweeping over him like high tide until he was at the mercy of the ebb and flow. "I keep this whip as a remembrance, a promise, to make sure that sort of sacrifice is never needed again. And that is why she continues to power the whip with energies which are the bane of all those who walk the night."
"She?" the vampire muttered. He no longer wore that expression of flippant condescension, but even at his small input, more words burst from Leon.
"You couldn't possibly understand the pain of losing a loved one to your own hands."
Echoes followed his final sentence, everyone at the table ceasing to move, Leon's breathing hard from his impromptu shouting. As it slowed, Leon finally saw the vampire past the haze of anger. He appeared as a statue, brittle and unmoving, face an implacable mask except for the eyes, which refused to lift from the table.
Sypha and Trevor were eyeing the both of them worriedly: Sypha's hand hovering near the vampire as though to reach out, and Trevor with one foot back, looking as though he might either flee the scene or move between Leon and the vampire. In an attempt to calm down-he didn't wish to break the current truce they had-Leon took in a few breaths through his nose, letting them out slower and slower as he allowed his shoulders to relax from where they'd tensed up.
"Perhaps," Sypha's voice cut through the forced silence, "We should take a small break before speaking again. I have several things I need to check on anyway."
Silence rang for a few more moments before the vampire said, short and curt, "Fine."
He left the table, cloak swishing dramatically behind him as he melted into the shadows of the cases. Sypha sighed, cast Trevor a glance, and said, "Please keep an eye on your ancestor," before also taking off into the shelves.
Trevor got out minimal protests, mostly just little sounds of surprise, before she too was out of sight. Sighing, Trevor sat down heavily into his chair.
"So," he said, fiddling with his weapons as he placed them back onto his person, "anything you want to do?"
Leon also sighed, sinking down into his own chair. "I feel like I've done enough, for now." Even if he didn't understand why it had the effect it did.
With a wry smile, Trevor said, "Honestly, I'm kinda glad to see the family's golden patriarch still pisses people off."
"Please don't call me that."
"Yeah, yeah."
"...So. Do you think you're really my descendant?"
"Disappointed?"
Leon shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, unable to keep a smile off his face. "I suppose I'm glad the family is still around. I was..." I was afraid. Afraid of what I might bring upon myself, my descendants. That I might not be able to... continue the way I promised. "I was uncertain of what the future might bring."
Trevor hummed, tapping his fingers on his own biceps. "I don't know how long you'll be here, so maybe there are some uh, some things you should know. While you're here."
"I... alright."
"...God I wish I had some alcohol. Get comfortable then."
I'm back! It makes me so so happy to hear when people get excited about this fic. ~(⁰▿⁰)~ hehe. So please let me know what you think! It makes my day(s).
Alright, so we finally got everyone to sit down and talk. I think that went well... ^^; Sorry that Alucard is just "the vampire" for now, but Leon is still mad. And wary. He'll get over it. Maybe the little one-on-one time with his 20x great-grandson will help. x3 Or he'll just get more depressed... Damn. Like, the early Belmonts had it so rough in the "shit happened to my family" department.
Alucard... well, he's really thinking about what he's doing now. I always got the impression he was numbing his emotions to "do what needed to be done", which is why he broke down during/after Drac's death.
Funnily enough, most of the time I spent on this chapter's editing was research. Which it should not have been. Why did I spend so much time looking up medieval history when Castlevania is notoriously anachronistic? You tell me.
On an unrelated note: Leon is from Alsace, Walter Bernhard's castle was in the dense forests of Germany, and No One can convince me otherwise.
Anyway, until next time! Stay safe, ilu! ~ヾ ^∇^
