Half an hour had passed until the sun was completely risen, although not very visible, hidden behind dark thick clouds of a brand new day in Budapest. Yet again, the town has found back its peace and quiet of its monotonous mornings. Though the sun was desperately trying to make its way through the clouds, this was far from being a happy day, indeed.
At least the daylight wasn't harmful for everyone, there. Among the very few pedestrians wandering around, was ambling a very intriguing individual.
It was Lucian, champion of the Lycanthropes.
An invisible mask of hatred and confusion and dark eyes expressing nothing more than rage and sorrow, he was sauntering down the streets, not sure of his own whereabouts and where to go. "What in blazes am I still doing here?" he wondered silently. He who thought he could rest in peace, now that the Vampire-Lycan hybrid has been created. He who thought he could rest, with her again, in her arms. With his beloved Sonja, once again.
No. Instead, he was still here, in this bloody world full of greed and retribution, he wasn't really sure why. The only thing he knew was that somehow and some why, it wasn't his time yet and that his task on this planet was far from being done.
At least he knew that he had some goals to accomplish. Most important of all, he had to find back Sonja's lost medallion, for it was the only thing left of her. And then came the other things on Lucian's to-do list: kill Viktor, kill Kraven, and by the way any other Vampire who would have the misfortune of finding themselves on the path of the ruthless Lucian. Basically, they were killing plans, as usual.
And perhaps find out what has become of Michael Corvin and his little Vampire friend. Selene, as he recalled. As far as Lucian was concerned, Selene had crossed over to the other side of the war by herself converting Michael into what Lucian has tried to create for centuries, and by the way, saving a Lycan's life.
Yet, Lucian had no clue about Viktor's last stand with Selene and that he had perished because of her, a Vampire, one of his Death Dealers. Though he knew that if Michael's mutation had indeed succeeded, whether the hybrid or Viktor had to die, it was unavoidable. Lucian only hoped it was Corvin who had survived. "Killed by the only thing he fears the most," he imagined as a weak smile appeared on his dark features.
His mind went back to Selene. "That slut who ran me over with her Jaguar," he thought musingly. "After all, she turned out to be smarter than what I expected her to be," A sudden smirk appeared on his features as he thought of Selene biting Michael. "If only Viktor was there to assist one of his Death Dealers turning against him and his Coven."
His smile slowly vanished. There was nothing to smile about. There would, if Sonja was still alive and with him. But she wasn't. Lucian's heart ached as he thought, "Why am I still here? Why do I still live? Why couldn't have I just died and been with her again?" The only thought of her made his heart sear like hell.
Lucian suddenly felt an awful pain plaguing his head. He stopped walking and leaned against the brick wall of the closest building, bringing his hand to his forehead. It was burning hot. Suddenly, a dim haze started to appear before his eyes. He could now barely see where he was and what was happening before him.
And in his mind, he saw her. It was her, it was Sonja. He saw her, her big emerald eyes gazing into his own. She was wearing a long burgundy gown and her long, beautiful golden-brown locks were graciously resting on her shoulders and going down her back. She was dazzling.
Although it was only a thought, a mental image of his beloved, an illusion, it was as if she was truly standing before Lucian's eyes. But Lucian knew better than that. Sonja was dead, he knew it. He could pretend as much as he wanted that she wasn't, but he knew she was and could never stop mourning her unwarranted death.
But still, he could see it before his very eyes, this vision of her. It was the only thing he could see, now. He just couldn't help himself from staring, gazing at her - or what appeared to be her, as if she were really there, with him again.
And she smiled at him. A smile that seemed so real. A smile that Lucian had not seen in centuries, even when he dreamed of her, which was every night. As far as he knew, all the dreams of Sonja he was having were involving her own execution, and were always ending the same painful way: Sonja letting out a shattering screech and Lucian himself screaming her name to anyone who was there to hear him, which means no one, because it was too late: Sonja was already dead.
The vision before his eyes seemed so real that Lucian had completely forgotten that it was a vision. And so he smiled back at her. And for once in the six hundred years he had spend suffering and mourning Sonja's death, Lucian felt good. It felt oh, so good to be with her again - so he believed - and to feel the warmth her smile was bringing back to his hardened heart.
"Sonja…" Lucian almost whispered. He was in a daze. 'Sonja' 's smile widened, and so did Lucian's. He wanted to step to her, to take her in his arms and to never let her go, but for some reason, he couldn't. Couldn't make any movement, whether it was because of the fact that he was too astounded by this 'presence' or that he was somehow held back by a mysterious weight.
Or maybe it was simply because of the fact that his body was infected and weakened of silver nitrate, that had turned out to be futile on his system. All pain was worth living, if it meant to be with her again. And so he took a heavy step, always gazing at her in the eyes. He yearned to feel her, embrace her, kiss her… Another step. Lucian was then four feet away from her. He was afraid that if ever he tried to touch her, she would vanish, but yet again, the vision seemed so real that he had completely forgotten its true nature. Another step.
To his surprise, the vision started to dissipate, as Sonja was beginning to blend with the white haze that has been surrounding him, them. And when the surroundings came back to normal, Lucian could now see the very few pedestrians passing by him, giving him some curious glances.
Looking around him, Lucian remembered that the Sonja he's been seeing was only another hallucination. Though, never had it happened to him before. It seemed so much like a dream, although it wasn't. It was too real to be a dream. Too real to be any kind of hallucination. "A sign, perhaps?" Lucian silently wondered dreamily, but then shook his head, "What am I thinking…"
Back from his lost thoughts, Lucian shook his head and decided to continue his walk. Despite that the vision of Sonja before his eyes had dispelled, he could still imagine her. He could still picture her beautiful smile brightening his mind and heart. Never, in six hundred years, has he felt like that. He felt… good.
Lucian arched a surprised eyebrow at this thought. Yes, he did feel good. But still, he couldn't understand how could an image of Sonja manifest itself to him. "Why? Why now?" he thought.
Perhaps, this was something he still didn't know, but soon to be figured out.
Back at Ordoghaz, in the basement of the West wing of the mansion, was a cold and damp room. Similar to the Elders' crypt, only much smaller. And in that room, was some kind of sarcophagus, untouched and unvisited for years, centuries.
A frail hand emerged from the inside of the topless coffin and lay on the border. Weak eyelids slowly opened to discover long-forgotten emerald eyes.