Walking through the crowds gathered near the town square of Warrakya, a
woman in an old cloak watched the proceedings with little interest. They
found another 'witch' it seemed. Now, the local clergy were doing what the
old woman had seen too many times. The 'witch' in question was hooded and
being dragged by barbed cords. Around her, various townsfolk cursed the
woman and threw various effects ranging from fruits to small stones. With
a frown on her face, the old woman watched as the 'witch' was tied down to
a block and the executioner came forth to do his dirty work. Shaking her
head, she turned away as the ax fell and the witch's head dropped into a
basket below.
"Fools... every one of them," the aged Sypha Belnades muttered to herself as she allowed the control of the golem she created to die. Fooling everyone into believing that the construction was the witch they wanted to see dead. It never ceased to amaze her that the local clergy, nor the people could ever figure it out. As far as the ancient witch was concerned, it was state induced dogma that was the cause of ignorance among the masses. Which lead to fear, hysteria, paranoia, and, of course, these witch-hunts that should have ended centuries ago.
Sypha was no stranger to persecution. She faced it ever since she could understand how cruel humanity could be to itself. Her small family had been outcasts when Warrakya was just a small hamlet and even to her adulthood, it didn't end there. However, this was not the time for a pointless interlude.
"Dame Belnades!" a voice from behind her proclaimed. Leaning on her walking stick, she turned to see three men, two in their mid-twenties and another in his fifties, approaching her.
"Ah, Master Baldwin. Salutations. I trust you and your son are doing well?"
The elder vampire hunter bowed cordially to Sypha, thumping his chest with a closed fist. The two young men behind him bowed in a similar manner.
"Yes. We were following some leads given to us by one of the Belmonts. I have heard that the Count is using human beings as his servants to revive himself."
"It would not have been the first time." The aged woman looked to the sky, thinking aloud. "From all I've seen, it was man more than monster that has summoned that creature to our world."
The man that stood beside Grant spoke up, "but that doesn't make sense. Why do men summon him?"
Turning from the sky, Sypha peered into the young man's eyes and asked, "And who might you be?"
"Ah, this is Nathan Graves. My apprentice," the elder Baldwin said. Through the introduction, Sypha could see Maurice's son wince at hearing Nathan's title. Something was wrong and unless Maurice found a way to mend things, their relationship could become strained rather quickly.
Turning back to Nathan, she smiled a bit and placed her withered hand on his shoulder. "Since you now carry Sonia Belmont's blessed weapon, you must take care. The forces of darkness will try all the harder to do you harm. Not just with claw, spell, and sword. But they will use words to try and fool you into selling yourself for nothing."
The look in the boy's eyes was unmistakable. It was innocence of not ever seeing battle, yet the determination to endure any coming trial.
"Fear not, Lady... Belnades?"
She nodded once. "My name is Sypha Belnades."
The young hunter blinked. "Wait, wasn't that the name of the sorceress that married Trevor Belmont?"
She nodded again and chuckled. "Yes, but I assure you, the name is purely coincidental. Were I the real Sypha, I would be well over three-hundred and fifty years old by now."
Maurice placed a hand on Nathan's shoulder. "However, she is related to the sorceress by blood and name. It's one of the reasons why she helps us so often against the Count."
Sypha waved the compliment off. "Come now, I'm just an old woman. I can't do that much."
The old man simply smiled, "You've done more than people will ever appreciate."
At that moment, a horse drawn carriage passed through, forcing Sypha, Maurice, and the two younger vampire hunters to move out of the way. From the inside, a beautiful woman gazed out at the two boys and smiled. With skin of such fair complexion to make it appear flawless, sparkling azure eyes, full pouting lips, and her dark chestnut hair trailed about her bare shoulders made her nearly irresistible to the male gender.
And to Sypha's chagrin, it seemed she had already worked her magic over Nathan and Grant. Frowning, she struck the point of her staff into the ground to bring the two young men back to reality. More than that, she had seen this woman before and knew that only trouble followed such. Turning back to the two younger men, she said sternly, "Never forget, boys, that evil can take shape even in the most beautiful of forms. It's how the devil catches the unwary."
It took a moment for Nathan and Grant to get their bearings and absorb Sypha's words. They turned to each other and Grant said, trying to justify their actions, "Forgive us, Lady Belnades, but we're not perfect."
Sypha snorted, "Of course you're not. Neither am I, nor anyone else. There is but one that can claim such, but even then, he shall not do it. Anyway, you must learn from the mistakes of others before they become your own."
She turned to Maurice and bid him a good day before staggering off on her cane. She was a busy woman after all. Though age had stolen much of her mobility, it did not stop her from moving as much as she could. After fear, inertia was the great killer. You either move forward or backward, or so her father said. When you try to stay in one place, you stagnate and die before you even know what's happening.
And so, moving on, Sypha went to the docks where she was to see some a friend off. What made this one rather unusual was the fact that she was supposed to attend the execution earlier that day as the condemned.
For the past several years, she assisted women that were accused of witchcraft to escape and start new lives further west. With any hope, they would be able to book passage for the American continent and start there. What many claimed to be witchcraft was nothing more than paranoia, alchemy, and medical condition brought by bad environs. Sypha often saw it as a poor ruse to simply weed out people that got in others' way.
So, it had become a habit to create golems and replace them with the accused on the night of the execution. That way, people would believe them to be dead and the real people would escape. It sounded cliché, but Sypha was not one to brood on logistics.
Disguised as a traveler on her way west, she waited for their rescuer as Sypha staggered to her over the boards to the boat. She wished to say farewell to the woman that had spared her from an unjust death. Sypha had obliged her, though a bit reluctantly since she was not one for farewells.
"Dame Sypha!" Helaine, one of the accused cried, throwing her arms around the old woman. "Thank the heavens thou art well." She was only a child of fourteen, studying to join a nunnery, and accused by the mayor's son. Sypha had suspected foul play on the boy's part, but kept her opinions to herself as she embraced back the young woman.
"I wish I was, but I am old and am ready to rest."
With tears of joy and sorrow flooding her eyes, she pulled back and whispered, "God save you, my friend. When I first met thee I thought thee a witch, but now I love thee as an angel."
The compliment sounded odd to Sypha, but smiled nonetheless, "You think too much of me, child. Rather, I would have you do well to others when you start over."
"I thank thee again, Dame Sypha. God bless and keep you." The young girl wrapped her arms around the old woman's shoulder again, tears soaking her face and Sypha's cloak. Sighing, the older woman patted the girl's back. Sypha had said enough good byes in her time and one more would not make much difference.
"Just be careful, child." Sypha admonished once more as Helaine stepped upon the deck of the boat. The other hands were beginning to pull the ship off of the harbor and onto the river. The fact that she would be long gone before the clergy noticed gave no small amount of joy to Sypha.
With a sigh of relief, she turned and headed back towards her humble abode near the outskirts of the city. The sooner she got out of the town, the better.
*
Walking along the path, Sypha hobbled on her cane, making sure to avoid the little pebbles that littered the trail. They were annoyances if anything else. However, Sypha had long since learned to ignore such things, mostly because they were a waste of time. And time was not something she had an abundance of.
"If only that were true," a well-bred soprano voice chimed in from behind Sypha. The aged woman turned to see the same woman from the carriage earlier. Her smile was malicious as it was beautiful, as though she held the upper hand in a duel of wits.
"What be your business with me, harlot? I have nothing you want," Sypha grumbled.
"Only to tell you to stay out of my lord's business."
Sypha chuckled. "What thing could your lord fear from a helpless old woman?"
It was then, Camilla's smile faded, replaced by a feral snarl. "You're a poor liar, witch!" No sooner had the words left her lips, a blazing inferno consumed Sypha. Within seconds, her robe, hair, and skin were completely incinerated. Nothing human could have hoped to survive such a spell.
But then again, Sypha was not exactly human either.
In Sypha's place, a small maelstrom of chaotic energies circled around the semi-skeletal remains, creating a mantle and cloak to give the lich a somewhat majestic appearance. The lich took an appraisal of her appearance and sighed. When her mouth opened, mist blew from nowhere as though she were still breathing.
"You do realize that it took me far too long to be able to maintain that disguise."
Camilla snorted. "For a flesh harvester, you certainly do try your best to maintain morals that don't exactly apply to you."
Sypha pointed a bony finger towards Camilla. "Though my body may be long dead, my soul continues to fight against the likes of you and the count. You shall never hold sway here."
"Your petty threats don't scare me, lich. As far as your kind goes, a lich that serves God is as ludicrous as it is contradictory."
If Sypha still had lips, they would have curled into a smirk. "Some would say the same about man, made in the image of God, serving he who would lead them to eternal misery."
Camilla frowned as she began to circle the lich. "I am above such petty classifications. I serve he who will reshape this petty world."
Sypha, unperturbed, looked Camilla in the eye, though she had none. "One day, long ago, your mother grew hungry for power. The count came to her, and she did sell her soul to him and became his bird of prey. And using the same charm that you wield, she did bring many down with her. Her soul was finally released when Simon Belmont did her in."
Camilla's eyes were much wider than before. She had never known her origins and to hear it from her hated enemy was quite galling. "And what of you, lich? Surely the power that flows through your blood is the same as mine."
Turning away, Sypha looked to the distance and whispered in reminiscence, "One day, my mother's mother was barren and without child. She was beginning to grow aged and desperate. And the Count came to her as he did to your mother. But she cheated the Count, learned his tricks, and yet retained her soul. Since then, our family has used the count's gifts against him and we've not failed yet. I am your match, succubus, but I'm not your kind."
Camilla's face remained neutral, despite her overwhelming desire to tear the lich apart. She turned to see her carriage draw near and as it stopped, she turned to Sypha. "How dare you make such an assumption that you could compare yourself to me? I'll not say this again, lich. The Baldwin and Graves boys shall belong to me and the likes of you shall not stop me. And if you should dare interfere, I'll end your pitiful existence," then a smirk drew upon her face as she turned to face her carriage, "and I'll do it in my sleep."
Remaining still, Sypha countered, "You'd best not sleep while I am awake, because your sleep in the Pit of Sulfur is imminent."
Camilla laughed lightly at Sypha's threat as the door opened for her. "We'll never know... I intend to live forever." With that, the door shut and sped off, leaving the lich alone to plan the Count's downfall.
Four months later...
Sypha, still in her true form and hidden beneath a cloak, beheld the Count's castle in the distance. She had tipped Maurice and his two students about Camilla's plans and they had entered the castle last night. However, a whole day had passed and there was still no word of any one of the three and Sypha could not help but fear the worst.
Though Sypha was indeed powerful, trying to face both Camilla and her servants was too dangerous. However, she had noticed Nathan Graves through some of the windows running through the minions of Dracula as if they were nothing. It appeared that the young hunter had things well under control. Still, she could not see Maurice's son and it worried her. By all rights, he should have been fighting at Nathan's side.
Then, her previous encounter with Camilla brought an unpleasant possibility to mind. What if she had seduced Grant to the side of the Count? She could see the potential of a great warrior within him and for the Count to have such an asset would be most dire indeed. She had no other alternative. She had to enter the castle and help. Living for as long as she had brought with it enough experience to stay discreet so Nathan would not wonder why a lich was helping him.
To her surprise, she found the castle littered with the remains of the undead and other monsters that served the Count. It seemed that she had definitely underestimated the boy, Nathan. He was certainly maintaining the reputation of the vampire hunters, if nothing else.
A stirring from deeper in the castle caught her attention from the monsters' remains. In addition, she could tell whom it belonged to. Camilla was near.
*
To her surprise, the young hunter Nathan had already dispatched Camilla. In her true form no less. As Sypha suspected, Camilla was nothing more than a succubus, a disgusting apparition of desire with a human body to lure the unwary to ruin. Yet, to the lich's surprise, Nathan had not only resisted her charm, but her words as well. It came as no surprise to Sypha to see Camilla not understand that there was still the spark of nobility in man. And with Camilla's defeat, Nathan continued his trek to the Count's throne room.
Stepping silently, she drew near the struggling form of Camilla, trying to find an avenue of escape, knowing all was lost.
"Oh, how pitiful the forces of evil. Their bonds of unity, so fragile and fleeting."
Camilla turned and sent a hateful glare Sypha's way. "I knew it! You helped him, didn't you?"
Sypha folded her bony arms and replied calmly, "I did nothing. If the boy had any help, it certainly was not of this world. At least, that's how I see it."
Regardless, Camilla snorted, "And now what do you want? To gloat? To hold it over me for the rest of my life?"
The lich raised a hand and with a chant in a language unknown to the world of man, commanded the stone around Camilla to bind her. To Sypha's surprise, Camilla tried repeatedly to free herself. However, Sypha's magic was much stronger in this case and any hope of escape was futile.
The lich then knelt beside the succubus's head and stroked her still pristine cheek with a bony finger. "No, my dear. I have no need to gloat. I simply came here to collect."
It only took Camilla a second to realize what Sypha was referring to, but by then, it was too late. From outside the chamber, blood-curdling screams echoed through the halls, but no one was there to hear. Soon after, the screams grew silent.
*
Pulling the hood back, Sypha pulled her locks of dusty blond hair from beneath her cloak and over her shoulders. With a satisfied sigh, she stretched her arms above her head and reveled in the new sensations she experienced. It was certainly nice to have a body that wasn't falling apart every other day.
"I see your magic still works, Sypha." A familiar voice noted from her side.
Sypha turned and smiled at the seemingly sudden appearance of the Count's half-human son. They had kept in touch over the many intervening years and it seemed no different when they fought alongside Grant DeNasti and Trevor Belmont. Only the latter two were long dead.
"That it does, Master Alucard," she replied with a cordial bow.
Waving the fringes of his cloak aside, he stared at the castle where the conflict between the current hunter and his father were taking place. As tempting as it was to join Nathan, Sypha insisted to simply let him do as he wished. The sorceress' testimony of Nathan's victory had prevented him from joining the final battle, taking place at that moment.
"So then," Alucard started, turning back to his companion, "who was it this time?"
Sypha snorted, "A high class tart that thought the male gender was nothing more than a smorgasbord. Almost as bad as some of the men that lived from one woman's bed to another. She turned out to be a succubus. It was not the same that assaulted you some years ago, but one that melded itself with a human."
The Dhamphir nodded in comprehension. This would not be the first time that demons who served his father combined their essence with that of evil minded humans to become something worse. He had met many more in the past. Most of them had the good sense to die when they tried to stop him. However, there would always be the random few that would escape under his and Sypha's notice.
With a sigh, Sypha's shoulders drooped slightly. "And at some future date, there will be another to take her place. There always will be."
"Henceforth, the Belmonts, your own family, and others will continue to fight him."
"That's not what worries me." Sypha folded her arms and looked pensive as the castle began to rumble. "Ever since we fought against your father that first time, I've been watching the circumstances of his death and rebirth. It's been getting harder to keep his servants in line. In addition, I've been sensing something different about the Count. I have a theory, but it's as good as we're going to get for now."
"And that is?"
"He's growing resistant to death. With every resurrection, his spectral essence creates a new anchor. With every anchor, it creates a new layer that makes it easier for the Count to return. If it's true, then the Count knows this as well. Eventually, he will become so resistant to dying that nothing we can do will stop him."
With a frown, Alucard turned back to the castle. "So, the enemy grows stronger and more cunning with every defeat."
Sypha nodded, "We can't prevent it, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't keep trying. And who knows, maybe one of the future Belmonts will find a way."
Alucard allowed himself a rare smirk, "And not the Belnades?"
Now it was Sypha's turn to frown. "They're in hiding right now. Some of the Counts allies have been hunting the sorcerer families under the pretense of those wretched witch hunts."
Alucard was not surprised. Many humans could be easily manipulated by fear and panic. The Count's servants used that tactic often and with impunity. And when their fellow men were accused of dark arts, they could be stirred up easier than a hive of bees. Were it not for Sypha's foresight, many of the vampire hunter families would be dead.
The castle in the distance began to shudder and collapse in on it. Apparently, the Graves boy had won. One by one, towers lost their support and fell into the lake or the courtyard. Even the cliff that the castle normally stood upon was falling apart and the many dungeons within would be buried.
During the destruction, both Sypha and Alucard noticed three people running for the lives from the castle. It appeared that Nathan was much more capable than Sypha gave him credit. He had saved not only his master, but his 'rival' as well. With any luck, Maurice's son would learn of his mistakes and become as good a hunter as his father.
Turning around, Alucard mumbled, "And so, the cycle begins anew."
Following close behind, Sypha noted, "Let's hope that some day, we'll be able to break the cycle."
Craning his head backward, he asked, "Think you will live long enough to see that happen?"
Though the comment was meant to lighten the mood, the grin quickly faded on Sypha's face. "I don't think so. Eventually, all this harvesting of mine will eventually wear on my mind. At worst, I could join the Count in my madness." She increased her pace and took a hold of Alucard's sleeve, "I hope you realize what you have to do should that happen?"
The Dhamphir gently removed her hand from his cloak and nodded. "If it does happen, make sure to give my regards to Trevor and Grant."
Not expecting that answer, she blinked a few times before smiling back. "Should the Lord let me pass through the pearly gates, I'll be sure to do so."
The End
Notes: Noticing the lack of Sypha Belnades in most Castlevania fics, I hoped to somehow add something that would give an idea as to what kind of person she was. Sadly, I failed. Instead, the whole 'holy lich' idea came as a bit of unusual inspiration and the idea was fresh enough in my mind to go along with it.
Oh and Helaine the witch and the whole conversation between Sypha and Camilla was inspired by a Mystery Science Theater 3000 movie called, 'The Undead'. It stunk like rotted cheese. Which is why I enjoyed it so much.
Next, all the pseudo-mysticism that Sypha spouted is just silly. Not to be taken seriously, internally, or literally... despite it being used in a literary sense in this story. :p
If you noticed something wrong with this story, let me know. I can take the heat. I want to get better, not worse from fooling myself into thinking that I can actually write something good. :p
Finally, all things related to Castlevania belongs to Konami.
"Fools... every one of them," the aged Sypha Belnades muttered to herself as she allowed the control of the golem she created to die. Fooling everyone into believing that the construction was the witch they wanted to see dead. It never ceased to amaze her that the local clergy, nor the people could ever figure it out. As far as the ancient witch was concerned, it was state induced dogma that was the cause of ignorance among the masses. Which lead to fear, hysteria, paranoia, and, of course, these witch-hunts that should have ended centuries ago.
Sypha was no stranger to persecution. She faced it ever since she could understand how cruel humanity could be to itself. Her small family had been outcasts when Warrakya was just a small hamlet and even to her adulthood, it didn't end there. However, this was not the time for a pointless interlude.
"Dame Belnades!" a voice from behind her proclaimed. Leaning on her walking stick, she turned to see three men, two in their mid-twenties and another in his fifties, approaching her.
"Ah, Master Baldwin. Salutations. I trust you and your son are doing well?"
The elder vampire hunter bowed cordially to Sypha, thumping his chest with a closed fist. The two young men behind him bowed in a similar manner.
"Yes. We were following some leads given to us by one of the Belmonts. I have heard that the Count is using human beings as his servants to revive himself."
"It would not have been the first time." The aged woman looked to the sky, thinking aloud. "From all I've seen, it was man more than monster that has summoned that creature to our world."
The man that stood beside Grant spoke up, "but that doesn't make sense. Why do men summon him?"
Turning from the sky, Sypha peered into the young man's eyes and asked, "And who might you be?"
"Ah, this is Nathan Graves. My apprentice," the elder Baldwin said. Through the introduction, Sypha could see Maurice's son wince at hearing Nathan's title. Something was wrong and unless Maurice found a way to mend things, their relationship could become strained rather quickly.
Turning back to Nathan, she smiled a bit and placed her withered hand on his shoulder. "Since you now carry Sonia Belmont's blessed weapon, you must take care. The forces of darkness will try all the harder to do you harm. Not just with claw, spell, and sword. But they will use words to try and fool you into selling yourself for nothing."
The look in the boy's eyes was unmistakable. It was innocence of not ever seeing battle, yet the determination to endure any coming trial.
"Fear not, Lady... Belnades?"
She nodded once. "My name is Sypha Belnades."
The young hunter blinked. "Wait, wasn't that the name of the sorceress that married Trevor Belmont?"
She nodded again and chuckled. "Yes, but I assure you, the name is purely coincidental. Were I the real Sypha, I would be well over three-hundred and fifty years old by now."
Maurice placed a hand on Nathan's shoulder. "However, she is related to the sorceress by blood and name. It's one of the reasons why she helps us so often against the Count."
Sypha waved the compliment off. "Come now, I'm just an old woman. I can't do that much."
The old man simply smiled, "You've done more than people will ever appreciate."
At that moment, a horse drawn carriage passed through, forcing Sypha, Maurice, and the two younger vampire hunters to move out of the way. From the inside, a beautiful woman gazed out at the two boys and smiled. With skin of such fair complexion to make it appear flawless, sparkling azure eyes, full pouting lips, and her dark chestnut hair trailed about her bare shoulders made her nearly irresistible to the male gender.
And to Sypha's chagrin, it seemed she had already worked her magic over Nathan and Grant. Frowning, she struck the point of her staff into the ground to bring the two young men back to reality. More than that, she had seen this woman before and knew that only trouble followed such. Turning back to the two younger men, she said sternly, "Never forget, boys, that evil can take shape even in the most beautiful of forms. It's how the devil catches the unwary."
It took a moment for Nathan and Grant to get their bearings and absorb Sypha's words. They turned to each other and Grant said, trying to justify their actions, "Forgive us, Lady Belnades, but we're not perfect."
Sypha snorted, "Of course you're not. Neither am I, nor anyone else. There is but one that can claim such, but even then, he shall not do it. Anyway, you must learn from the mistakes of others before they become your own."
She turned to Maurice and bid him a good day before staggering off on her cane. She was a busy woman after all. Though age had stolen much of her mobility, it did not stop her from moving as much as she could. After fear, inertia was the great killer. You either move forward or backward, or so her father said. When you try to stay in one place, you stagnate and die before you even know what's happening.
And so, moving on, Sypha went to the docks where she was to see some a friend off. What made this one rather unusual was the fact that she was supposed to attend the execution earlier that day as the condemned.
For the past several years, she assisted women that were accused of witchcraft to escape and start new lives further west. With any hope, they would be able to book passage for the American continent and start there. What many claimed to be witchcraft was nothing more than paranoia, alchemy, and medical condition brought by bad environs. Sypha often saw it as a poor ruse to simply weed out people that got in others' way.
So, it had become a habit to create golems and replace them with the accused on the night of the execution. That way, people would believe them to be dead and the real people would escape. It sounded cliché, but Sypha was not one to brood on logistics.
Disguised as a traveler on her way west, she waited for their rescuer as Sypha staggered to her over the boards to the boat. She wished to say farewell to the woman that had spared her from an unjust death. Sypha had obliged her, though a bit reluctantly since she was not one for farewells.
"Dame Sypha!" Helaine, one of the accused cried, throwing her arms around the old woman. "Thank the heavens thou art well." She was only a child of fourteen, studying to join a nunnery, and accused by the mayor's son. Sypha had suspected foul play on the boy's part, but kept her opinions to herself as she embraced back the young woman.
"I wish I was, but I am old and am ready to rest."
With tears of joy and sorrow flooding her eyes, she pulled back and whispered, "God save you, my friend. When I first met thee I thought thee a witch, but now I love thee as an angel."
The compliment sounded odd to Sypha, but smiled nonetheless, "You think too much of me, child. Rather, I would have you do well to others when you start over."
"I thank thee again, Dame Sypha. God bless and keep you." The young girl wrapped her arms around the old woman's shoulder again, tears soaking her face and Sypha's cloak. Sighing, the older woman patted the girl's back. Sypha had said enough good byes in her time and one more would not make much difference.
"Just be careful, child." Sypha admonished once more as Helaine stepped upon the deck of the boat. The other hands were beginning to pull the ship off of the harbor and onto the river. The fact that she would be long gone before the clergy noticed gave no small amount of joy to Sypha.
With a sigh of relief, she turned and headed back towards her humble abode near the outskirts of the city. The sooner she got out of the town, the better.
*
Walking along the path, Sypha hobbled on her cane, making sure to avoid the little pebbles that littered the trail. They were annoyances if anything else. However, Sypha had long since learned to ignore such things, mostly because they were a waste of time. And time was not something she had an abundance of.
"If only that were true," a well-bred soprano voice chimed in from behind Sypha. The aged woman turned to see the same woman from the carriage earlier. Her smile was malicious as it was beautiful, as though she held the upper hand in a duel of wits.
"What be your business with me, harlot? I have nothing you want," Sypha grumbled.
"Only to tell you to stay out of my lord's business."
Sypha chuckled. "What thing could your lord fear from a helpless old woman?"
It was then, Camilla's smile faded, replaced by a feral snarl. "You're a poor liar, witch!" No sooner had the words left her lips, a blazing inferno consumed Sypha. Within seconds, her robe, hair, and skin were completely incinerated. Nothing human could have hoped to survive such a spell.
But then again, Sypha was not exactly human either.
In Sypha's place, a small maelstrom of chaotic energies circled around the semi-skeletal remains, creating a mantle and cloak to give the lich a somewhat majestic appearance. The lich took an appraisal of her appearance and sighed. When her mouth opened, mist blew from nowhere as though she were still breathing.
"You do realize that it took me far too long to be able to maintain that disguise."
Camilla snorted. "For a flesh harvester, you certainly do try your best to maintain morals that don't exactly apply to you."
Sypha pointed a bony finger towards Camilla. "Though my body may be long dead, my soul continues to fight against the likes of you and the count. You shall never hold sway here."
"Your petty threats don't scare me, lich. As far as your kind goes, a lich that serves God is as ludicrous as it is contradictory."
If Sypha still had lips, they would have curled into a smirk. "Some would say the same about man, made in the image of God, serving he who would lead them to eternal misery."
Camilla frowned as she began to circle the lich. "I am above such petty classifications. I serve he who will reshape this petty world."
Sypha, unperturbed, looked Camilla in the eye, though she had none. "One day, long ago, your mother grew hungry for power. The count came to her, and she did sell her soul to him and became his bird of prey. And using the same charm that you wield, she did bring many down with her. Her soul was finally released when Simon Belmont did her in."
Camilla's eyes were much wider than before. She had never known her origins and to hear it from her hated enemy was quite galling. "And what of you, lich? Surely the power that flows through your blood is the same as mine."
Turning away, Sypha looked to the distance and whispered in reminiscence, "One day, my mother's mother was barren and without child. She was beginning to grow aged and desperate. And the Count came to her as he did to your mother. But she cheated the Count, learned his tricks, and yet retained her soul. Since then, our family has used the count's gifts against him and we've not failed yet. I am your match, succubus, but I'm not your kind."
Camilla's face remained neutral, despite her overwhelming desire to tear the lich apart. She turned to see her carriage draw near and as it stopped, she turned to Sypha. "How dare you make such an assumption that you could compare yourself to me? I'll not say this again, lich. The Baldwin and Graves boys shall belong to me and the likes of you shall not stop me. And if you should dare interfere, I'll end your pitiful existence," then a smirk drew upon her face as she turned to face her carriage, "and I'll do it in my sleep."
Remaining still, Sypha countered, "You'd best not sleep while I am awake, because your sleep in the Pit of Sulfur is imminent."
Camilla laughed lightly at Sypha's threat as the door opened for her. "We'll never know... I intend to live forever." With that, the door shut and sped off, leaving the lich alone to plan the Count's downfall.
Four months later...
Sypha, still in her true form and hidden beneath a cloak, beheld the Count's castle in the distance. She had tipped Maurice and his two students about Camilla's plans and they had entered the castle last night. However, a whole day had passed and there was still no word of any one of the three and Sypha could not help but fear the worst.
Though Sypha was indeed powerful, trying to face both Camilla and her servants was too dangerous. However, she had noticed Nathan Graves through some of the windows running through the minions of Dracula as if they were nothing. It appeared that the young hunter had things well under control. Still, she could not see Maurice's son and it worried her. By all rights, he should have been fighting at Nathan's side.
Then, her previous encounter with Camilla brought an unpleasant possibility to mind. What if she had seduced Grant to the side of the Count? She could see the potential of a great warrior within him and for the Count to have such an asset would be most dire indeed. She had no other alternative. She had to enter the castle and help. Living for as long as she had brought with it enough experience to stay discreet so Nathan would not wonder why a lich was helping him.
To her surprise, she found the castle littered with the remains of the undead and other monsters that served the Count. It seemed that she had definitely underestimated the boy, Nathan. He was certainly maintaining the reputation of the vampire hunters, if nothing else.
A stirring from deeper in the castle caught her attention from the monsters' remains. In addition, she could tell whom it belonged to. Camilla was near.
*
To her surprise, the young hunter Nathan had already dispatched Camilla. In her true form no less. As Sypha suspected, Camilla was nothing more than a succubus, a disgusting apparition of desire with a human body to lure the unwary to ruin. Yet, to the lich's surprise, Nathan had not only resisted her charm, but her words as well. It came as no surprise to Sypha to see Camilla not understand that there was still the spark of nobility in man. And with Camilla's defeat, Nathan continued his trek to the Count's throne room.
Stepping silently, she drew near the struggling form of Camilla, trying to find an avenue of escape, knowing all was lost.
"Oh, how pitiful the forces of evil. Their bonds of unity, so fragile and fleeting."
Camilla turned and sent a hateful glare Sypha's way. "I knew it! You helped him, didn't you?"
Sypha folded her bony arms and replied calmly, "I did nothing. If the boy had any help, it certainly was not of this world. At least, that's how I see it."
Regardless, Camilla snorted, "And now what do you want? To gloat? To hold it over me for the rest of my life?"
The lich raised a hand and with a chant in a language unknown to the world of man, commanded the stone around Camilla to bind her. To Sypha's surprise, Camilla tried repeatedly to free herself. However, Sypha's magic was much stronger in this case and any hope of escape was futile.
The lich then knelt beside the succubus's head and stroked her still pristine cheek with a bony finger. "No, my dear. I have no need to gloat. I simply came here to collect."
It only took Camilla a second to realize what Sypha was referring to, but by then, it was too late. From outside the chamber, blood-curdling screams echoed through the halls, but no one was there to hear. Soon after, the screams grew silent.
*
Pulling the hood back, Sypha pulled her locks of dusty blond hair from beneath her cloak and over her shoulders. With a satisfied sigh, she stretched her arms above her head and reveled in the new sensations she experienced. It was certainly nice to have a body that wasn't falling apart every other day.
"I see your magic still works, Sypha." A familiar voice noted from her side.
Sypha turned and smiled at the seemingly sudden appearance of the Count's half-human son. They had kept in touch over the many intervening years and it seemed no different when they fought alongside Grant DeNasti and Trevor Belmont. Only the latter two were long dead.
"That it does, Master Alucard," she replied with a cordial bow.
Waving the fringes of his cloak aside, he stared at the castle where the conflict between the current hunter and his father were taking place. As tempting as it was to join Nathan, Sypha insisted to simply let him do as he wished. The sorceress' testimony of Nathan's victory had prevented him from joining the final battle, taking place at that moment.
"So then," Alucard started, turning back to his companion, "who was it this time?"
Sypha snorted, "A high class tart that thought the male gender was nothing more than a smorgasbord. Almost as bad as some of the men that lived from one woman's bed to another. She turned out to be a succubus. It was not the same that assaulted you some years ago, but one that melded itself with a human."
The Dhamphir nodded in comprehension. This would not be the first time that demons who served his father combined their essence with that of evil minded humans to become something worse. He had met many more in the past. Most of them had the good sense to die when they tried to stop him. However, there would always be the random few that would escape under his and Sypha's notice.
With a sigh, Sypha's shoulders drooped slightly. "And at some future date, there will be another to take her place. There always will be."
"Henceforth, the Belmonts, your own family, and others will continue to fight him."
"That's not what worries me." Sypha folded her arms and looked pensive as the castle began to rumble. "Ever since we fought against your father that first time, I've been watching the circumstances of his death and rebirth. It's been getting harder to keep his servants in line. In addition, I've been sensing something different about the Count. I have a theory, but it's as good as we're going to get for now."
"And that is?"
"He's growing resistant to death. With every resurrection, his spectral essence creates a new anchor. With every anchor, it creates a new layer that makes it easier for the Count to return. If it's true, then the Count knows this as well. Eventually, he will become so resistant to dying that nothing we can do will stop him."
With a frown, Alucard turned back to the castle. "So, the enemy grows stronger and more cunning with every defeat."
Sypha nodded, "We can't prevent it, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't keep trying. And who knows, maybe one of the future Belmonts will find a way."
Alucard allowed himself a rare smirk, "And not the Belnades?"
Now it was Sypha's turn to frown. "They're in hiding right now. Some of the Counts allies have been hunting the sorcerer families under the pretense of those wretched witch hunts."
Alucard was not surprised. Many humans could be easily manipulated by fear and panic. The Count's servants used that tactic often and with impunity. And when their fellow men were accused of dark arts, they could be stirred up easier than a hive of bees. Were it not for Sypha's foresight, many of the vampire hunter families would be dead.
The castle in the distance began to shudder and collapse in on it. Apparently, the Graves boy had won. One by one, towers lost their support and fell into the lake or the courtyard. Even the cliff that the castle normally stood upon was falling apart and the many dungeons within would be buried.
During the destruction, both Sypha and Alucard noticed three people running for the lives from the castle. It appeared that Nathan was much more capable than Sypha gave him credit. He had saved not only his master, but his 'rival' as well. With any luck, Maurice's son would learn of his mistakes and become as good a hunter as his father.
Turning around, Alucard mumbled, "And so, the cycle begins anew."
Following close behind, Sypha noted, "Let's hope that some day, we'll be able to break the cycle."
Craning his head backward, he asked, "Think you will live long enough to see that happen?"
Though the comment was meant to lighten the mood, the grin quickly faded on Sypha's face. "I don't think so. Eventually, all this harvesting of mine will eventually wear on my mind. At worst, I could join the Count in my madness." She increased her pace and took a hold of Alucard's sleeve, "I hope you realize what you have to do should that happen?"
The Dhamphir gently removed her hand from his cloak and nodded. "If it does happen, make sure to give my regards to Trevor and Grant."
Not expecting that answer, she blinked a few times before smiling back. "Should the Lord let me pass through the pearly gates, I'll be sure to do so."
The End
Notes: Noticing the lack of Sypha Belnades in most Castlevania fics, I hoped to somehow add something that would give an idea as to what kind of person she was. Sadly, I failed. Instead, the whole 'holy lich' idea came as a bit of unusual inspiration and the idea was fresh enough in my mind to go along with it.
Oh and Helaine the witch and the whole conversation between Sypha and Camilla was inspired by a Mystery Science Theater 3000 movie called, 'The Undead'. It stunk like rotted cheese. Which is why I enjoyed it so much.
Next, all the pseudo-mysticism that Sypha spouted is just silly. Not to be taken seriously, internally, or literally... despite it being used in a literary sense in this story. :p
If you noticed something wrong with this story, let me know. I can take the heat. I want to get better, not worse from fooling myself into thinking that I can actually write something good. :p
Finally, all things related to Castlevania belongs to Konami.