A/N: In this chapter, I give mention to the Valerious ancestor, Dracula's father. Only problem, is that I don't know how it's spelled. In the movie, it sounded like 'Valerious d'Elder' so that's how I have it written. If any of you can give insight as to the proper spelling of his name, I'd be more than happy to hear it, so I might correct what I've written.
Update!: I'd like to give thanks to Maelstrom for answering my question with the correct spelling of Valerious the Elder. =)
╔╪Van Helsing 2 :: Shades of Gray╪╗
by: Ayame
╓Chapter Two╖
┌Constructing Malice┐
- Transylvania -
The castle had been abandoned: not even the livelihood nor the greed of the peasants and common-folk had swayed them to come in and raid the place of its riches and splendor. Obviously, they thought far too highly of the Valerious family to ransack the domicile, even though the prince and princess were not going to be coming home. Either that… or someone or something did a very good job at keeping them away. Surprisingly enough, after three years, there were hardly signs that this palace had not been lived in – not at all like that the ruin the Castle Frankenstein had fallen into only a year after the master had taken leave from the world of the living. But then… the Valerious mansion hadn't been raided by townsmen carrying pitchforks, axes, torches, and battering rams, now had it?
Cobwebs could be seen, dispersed sporadically against walls or hanging from the beams near the ceiling, moving ever so slightly against any minor draft that slipped through the room. But that appeared to be the only signs of a house not lived in. Dust did not ladled the well-polished surfaces of desks, or tables – as one would have thought after years of neglect – lint did not cling to the soft fabrics of the furniture or bedding, and the lamps and torches within were kept well oiled and lit during the evening hours… or at least… that was how they found it when they had arrived in Transylvania only two days ago, and that was what they had discovered upon the hour that they had spent in the castle, looking things over.
Just off the main dining hall she stood, light brown hair falling loosely about her shoulders, eyes of hazel-blue drinking in her surroundings. Her gown was of rich, earthy tones, greens and browns, and clearly that of nobility, and she stood tall, her posture alone marking her status in life. Admiring the artillery that had transformed what she was positive had once been a grand hall of wondrous splendor meant for receiving guests into a miniature fortress, she moved slowly down the corridor of the ground floor, the heels of her boots clicking against the surface of the marble floors. Her anticipation rose as she neared the sitting alcove that housed the map of Europe. Covering the expanse of the wall, an impressive piece of work that seemed to be detailed of the most rare or exotic types of inks and oils, she gazed at it, as though it were something completely fascinating and otherworldly.
"It's beautiful, don't you think? Such a lovely piece of art." Her voice was throaty and purposeful when she spoke, directing her comment to the young lady who was already examining the painted cloth canvas. With a start, the other girl turned around, surprise visible over her features, but only for a moment before placidity took its place. The girl did not speak or even try to answer her question, however. She simply gave a curt nod, locks of her long, honey blonde hair casting dark shadows that marred the alabaster tone of her face, but disappeared against the black of her dress.
"Lady Margot." The deep tenor that rumbled behind her brought her attention from the girl who stood beside the map. He had approached silently, stealth being one of the qualities for which she had employed him. Graced with hard features, and thos distinct unrefined that could only be suited for a man who spends most of his time in the out of doors, Borrachius looked nothing like the warlock that he was supposed to be. Nor did he act as she would have expected one to. He did, however, have dark features, which suited him well when he took to casting spells. With a smile, she turned to face him, the other girl and the map now forgotten.
"Have you found my cousin?" Margot smiled pleasantly at him, but he did not return the smile. It was no secret that he did not care for her or her actions in the least. Those who had a chance to travel with Margot must have simply thought he had alternative motives for being one of her companions. And she was sure that they were correct. Not that it really mattered. Rather than respond to her question, Borrachius turned and walked away, the message that, should she wish to know the whereabouts of her cousin, she'd better follow him, quite obvious. Glancing over her shoulder, she looked toward the blonde, before following in the warlock's wake, the smile never leaving her lips.
The library had been constructed on the second floor of the castle, and was a vast room, housing shelves of assorted books which lined the walls, and made up aisles across the carpeted floor. Beautiful furnishings of oak, mahogany, and cherry wood made up the desks, tables, and chairs set out in front of tall, double-paned windows, next to an ornate, marble-mantled fireplace. The room remained warm despite the rapidly dying fire that had been lit some time ago. Margot had stepped through the doors, followed swiftly by the two that had been downstairs with her. Fendori stood near an area of shelves close to the doorway, absently flipping through the pages of a book he had retrieved. Dressed in long robes of a mahogany color with his chin-length, sandy blond hair pulled into a neat ponytail, features reminiscent of that of an aristocrat – smooth, handsome, and well-defined – he looked quite saintly for his role of being a dark priest. He nodded to the three that had entered the room, raising his eyebrows inquisitively only for a moment before letting his gaze fall back on the pages of his manuscript. He remained stationary as the three gathered into the room, moving close to the fireplace where Margot's cousin rested.
"The ashes of Princess Anna are all that remain." Borrachius spoke brusquely and eyed the cloisonné urn of gold, silver, green, and blue that sat in the center of the mantle. He watched as Margot approached it, her steps seemed to be deliberately slow, as though in anticipation of actually being in the same room. She reached up, and with delicate hands, brushed her fingertips against the smooth enamel surface. It looked as though a landscape had been etched into the design, depicting leaves or emerald, land of gold, skies of silver, and deep sapphires to represent the sea. Margot's expression changed to something that Borrachius would have called thoughtful.
"I see…" was her reply to his statement, but for all intents and purposes, she wasn't really speaking to him. "This urn… whoever had it made for her… they took very deliberate care to make this design… this likeness of the ocean…" Letting her head bow a little, eyes cast toward the embers that were glowing in the fireplace, she let out a sigh, locks of wavy brown hair cascading to covering her features. "So the rumors are true. She met her demise when working with that… Van Helsing character." Venom captured her voice as she spoke the name of the demon hunter. There was a long pause as eyes fell to Margot, either in interest or in patient boredom, as she straightened and moved away from the fireplace. Turning around, the light swish of her gowns the only sound to accompany the soft crackling of fire embers, she clasped her hands in front of her, a coy smile slowly growing across her lips.
"Well, I'm just going to have to do something about this. It simply won't do to let this… murderer go unpunished, now will it?" Slender eyebrows rising, Margot let her hazel gaze fall on each of her companions, as though to have them challenge her words or decisions. They didn't, though it was obvious that Borrachius would have liked to. Fendori simply flipped through the pages of his book, as though he weren't interested at all. It was only the blonde girl, the cleric, who looked her directly in the eyes. Margot looked toward Borrachius and tilted her head toward the fireplace mantle. "Get the urn. We take it with us. I don't see why she should be left alone in this enormous castle. Not when she can find a proper resting spot amongst my family." That smile had returned… the one she was known for: it was chilling and sly. Without saying anything more, she started toward the library doors.
"Lady Margot." It was the blonde who had spoken.
"Yes, Alma?" Alma took a step forward, her expression unreadable as usual. If anything, that was the most unnerving thing about the girl. She smoothed out the front of her simple black dress which was decorated only by the ebony buttons that rose from the hem of the gown, up to the collar of the neck. Eyes of the deepest blue bored into Margot as though erecting a challenge, and for the air of authority that Alma was displaying at this moment, she looked quite young.
"What about the son of Valerious d'Elder?" Her question was straight-forward and implying everything that the others had been wondering, but hadn't said. One look at Fendori showed that he thought her question… or that Margot's answer… was laughable. Borrachius, urn in hand, still had an expression that would have made even a foul mood quiver. Margot only smiled.
"Don't worry, love. I'll get to him very soon. Very soon indeed." She remained calm, confident, a combination, when speaking of Dracula was probably not a very good one. Borrachius decided to add in his thoughts.
"Just because you wield the power to control dead hands does not mean the prince of all darkness can be controlled. Vampires are not the same as dead humans." His dark eyes were hooded, as unreadable as Alma's expressionless face. Margot raised her eyebrows in a smirking manner.
"Well, thank you, Borrachius, for that marvelous assessment. Next time I need a lesson in folklore, I'll be sure to call on you." Turning around, she started though the door, but paused briefly, glancing over her shoulder. "But until that time comes, don't underestimate the power of a necromancer. I will have my vengeance…" there was a short pause. "Against the Van Helsing." Saying nothing more, she slipped from the doorway, disappearing into the hallway. With a sigh of disgust, Borrachius exchanged glances with Alma, and then followed the other woman.
Fendori gave a light chuckle, setting the book back on the shelf, and let his gaze drop to Alma as she started toward the door as well. The cleric didn't seem to share the same joy as him, for as she stopped, she gave him a serious look.
"Do you find this situation amusing, Fendori?" He could hear a slight hint of ridicule in her tone, but more so, antipathy. He shrugged as he studied her, taking in her slender figure and her simple black dress. Her waist length hair was naturally a golden color, but under the lantern light, it took on a chestnut tone. He gave a twisted smile.
"No, of course not, Miss Alma." She didn't look as though she believed him, and she had good reason not to. Fact was, he found their entire situation to be very derisory. But he didn't elaborate. After a few more moments of staring each other down, she took her leave, stepping through the tall library doors and disappearing into the corridor. With a snicker, he started out of the library as well, running his fingers though chin-length sandy colored hair. Events for them were going to be moving a whole lot faster from here on out.