Disclaimer:
I don't own anything Cowboy Bebop, just the plot line and original parts.
The Sorcery of Love
Chapter One:
"Any news?"
"Northern Ireland. A little town south of here called Baganoe."
"Thanks." The clinking is heard as several silver coins fall from the only hand of the large man. He turns and nods towards his companion, and they exit the pub.
The pair mount turn to their horses. One is a black Arabian, its sleek shadowed skin matching its rider's dark cloak. The other is a bloody Bay and tended by the one-armed man. He leads a third horse by a thick rope, a Palomino, which is burdened with sacks and blankets- this is the only horse with bit and bridle.
"Let's go," says the cloaked rider.
"Spike, it'll take nearly a week straight south to arrive, give or take a couple of days."
"That's fine. We'll arrive right at the next moon, then, won't we, Jet?"
"Yeah. Baganoe," he begins as they start their horses with faint squeezes of their legs, "is a small town known mainly for its production of sheep. There's a river that flows nearby that small boats sometimes travel, or that the folk fish at. The road winds viciously to avoid a swamp. We could take the path going through and only save about a day, providing that the drought down there is still going on. If it's rained in the past week, or even the past two weeks, the roads will be flooded, but we won't know it until we're deep enough into the forest that we'll have lost at least two days. The best way would probably be to take a somewhat un-traveled path that we'll find a good bit west of the road that is taking us now- the only problem is that there are some rambunctious natives about there. A third way curves around the area completely and delays us by two days, but ensures our safety."
"Hm. And this is the fastest way? Through the swamp? A week? No use even going. That bloody thing will hear we're coming in three days from his buddies. Isn't there a more direct route? Something faster?"
Jet allowed the moment to linger a minute. "Yes, there is." Another long pause. The golden horse snorted as it trotted, shook its mane. The metal pieces to its outfit jingled lightly.
"Well?" He said as he pulled a slender pipe and tobacco from his pocket.
"Spike, why do you still have that old thing?" He said, looking at the old white object with small puffs coming from it as the leaf was lit.
"Don't change the subject."
"Spike, it's bone. It's not making the tobacco any stronger, I'll tell you that."
"What's the faster route?"
"What old memory are you dragging around with that old thing? You should keep around a wooden one. At least it makes a good makeshift stake."
"Jet. The fastest way. What is it? This trip's for nothing if we don't get the rewards and money from that town."
"It's- we'll need to take a right at the next fork. It leads to a cave beneath a single hill, standing alone. The other end comes out right on the other side of the swamp."
"Good enough for me. Let's go."
"But, Spike, it's-"
"Let's go."
"Damn it, Spike, listen. That cave-"
"I don't care about anything but getting this vampire's reward. The faster it's in my bag, the better."
"Spike, the ca-" A cloud of dust is formed as a harsh squeeze is applied to the blackened beast's back and it sprints down the pebbled road. "You idiot..." Jet mumbles as he mounts. "We'll be killed." He urged his horse forward.
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"They're getting nearer," whispered a cloaked creature in a rich, feminine voice. "They're on the wrong trail to find me, but they're heading in the right direction."
"No reason to get worried," says a woman from her lazy perch on a musty, yellowing canopy atop a large bed.
"Of course, you're not worried," she whispered, drawing her eyes up towards the other occupant of the room. "You think you can lure any hunter into bed, and then you bite them for the kill, you little witch." She laughed cooly.
"Well, at least you got the last part right." She added her own carefree laughter. "I am a master of magic. A sorceress, a witch!" Laughter rang out through the castle, tears came to her eyes from the strength and clarity.
"Only by blood."
"Oh, get over it. You just can't stand knowing that there's something I'm better at than you. Besides, shouldn't we agree that blood is a very admirable way to get something?" She smiled, flashing her cat-like teeth.
"Blood is never an admirable way to do anything, especially your meals."
"Well, it's better than wasting away like you're going to; I think I'll just put up that little crystal-ball thing before you worry yourself to death over it. I'm telling you, no mortal guy is worth the trouble."
"In your eyes, yes, I'm sure that that's true." She looked back into the misty sphere, at the moving picture of the horseman. "But to me... I'll gladly take the stake or the sword through my throat, if it is by him. It wouldn't be worth it to live like this if he will only despise and fear me. I will wait for him."
"Man, Julia," she said, shocked at the seriousness invading the room. "You've got it bad, haven't you? I'd hate to ever be attached like that."
She closed her eyes. "He's searching for me. Either to be with me, or to kill me- I know not which."
"How do you know?"
"Why else would he keep me with him?"
"If you're talking about that stupid pipe," she said, her voice spilling the ridiculousness of it across the ancient carpet, "you're nuts. Maybe he keeps it so that he remembers you, but come on. As far as he knows, you're gone. Vanished into thin air. He heard the rumors. You're dead. What was it, killed by a silver bullet in a werewolf hunt, a bystander by a cemetery with a single red rose at hand. It was raining, wasn't it? Washed away all of the blood, and in its mad rush to escape, the werewolf trampled the bloom until it washed away with the blood. Washed into a grave, where a vampire was sleeping, very young, buried only a small while earlier. No body, so they called you a ghost for a few minutes- then they found the grave upturned, the dust from where the vampire perished as the clouds disappeared. They knew you had been bitten. The other vampire must have gotten away- standard bite and run on a dying victim. No surprise that the new vampire was still weak and clumsy after it emerged a full-fledged vampiress. Oops, well, she's dead twice now- by bullet and blood loss. Hunt the vampire! Oh, what's that? The vampire's already out of town? Great, not our problem anymore. Wolf dead, vampire gone, looks like the town's safe now!
"But of course you lived on," she purred, fighting to injure the ordinary, beautiful woman before her by repeating the words back to her that had been said so many times earlier in her arrival. "You lived on, and the bullet? Pull it out. A few days later, the arm that was shot comes clean off. You grow another one. Interesting, isn't it, that you lived in my mansion at the time? Now then, what to do with this arm that was torn away by magic? Well, store the blood, your own blood, to keep you from having to drink as long as possible. What now? What with the muscle and bone? The muscle will be good for the cats, give it to them, give it to the wonderful large striped creatures. Not the bone, of course, because they might choke on it." She rolled her eyes at this point, then continued with her story. "Now, what to do with this bone, the nails? Why, bone is strong, make something of this! But what? Well, it'll make a great little scare for the occasional nomad. But wait! What about beloved Spike? Why, doesn't he need something to remember his lovely Julia by? What can he have that can be of bone? The bone, would it not disgust him? Give him something familiar. Disgusting, bone from my shoulder. Make a pipe of it, that in his bliss of the smoke he might dream of she who he once knew and loved. Send it with a rose, red rose, nestled in the white bone. Carve a rose along the edge. Pack it with rose petals, in a basket covered with roses. Red roses, like you brought me, wanted to bring to me, at the cemetery, where I died. Now I give you the roses, and a little of me, remember me.
"Such a cruel joke, he thought. He thought about it a lot. Yes, a cruel joke, the cruelest. How can I show that she is dead? She was a vampire in her last moments. She is dead. All vampires shall follow her, may they all die. Hunt the vampires. Hunt the vampires. Kill them. Kill them. They beg for mercy? They never drank of a human? Did Julia ask for the silver? Did she banish the red? Did she crave the darkness? None of them, none of them, none deserve to walk about. Destroy all those who are like her, let them die as she did. Where are they? Where? Ah, people are asking questions. Why does he hunt them when they are not in his own town? Threatening his own family? He has no family. No town. Why, then? For- money. I will destroy the vampires, and to hide it, demand money for my service. I'm right, you know, Julia. I'm right.
"You've told me that story, Julia, enough times that what I just said is word for word as what you say." She smiled, watching the shimmering blue eyes of her fellow vampire. She smirked as a single tear traced down her white face, soiling her paling blond bangs.
"You know, Julia," she began, jumping from the canopy and walking to the door, "you're withering away. You've got to eat. You can't starve yourself to death- you'll just keep withering until you're just a puddle on the floor." She paused, listening for any sound that she had heard. She sighed at her over-serious roomate. "Oh, come on. If you've wasted away before lover boy gets here, how can you expect him to recognize you? You need blood to keep you looking human. Spike wouldn't want you to be miserable, would he?"
"..." She heard the rustle of clothing as Julia arose from her seat. "Ok, Faye. Let's go."
"That's a girl. We'll head to that old mansion near here- there's almost always some scraggly kid hanging around. You know, near Baganoe." She grinned. "With any luck, your little black rider will meet us there."
"..."