A bump on the carriage was enough for Alucard to wake up from a short nap. He opened his blurry eyes and contemplated the pale late afternoon, with no bright sunset tones; a thunder announced more of that greyish weather. On the opposite bench, Sypha entertained herself with the botanics book. And, of course, the horses won't conduct themselves. A neck tilt was enough to show Trevor's head on the coachman's bench. Thankfully, he likes it. He searched his memory for any dream he had and could not remember one.
He opened his jacket just to certify that the letter to Leo Alexe's family was still there, in his inner pocket. It was enough to recall the conversation with the poor merchant, broken in many places, just one of the many troublesome trips the three had made to the otherwise pacific hospital of Ploiesti. He found Leo on a bed of a collective bedroom, awaken and ruined. The man, who, in spite of everything, showed finesse and a good education, wept and sobbed like a chile when Alucard kneeled by his side to explain him what happened. Leo asked for God's forgiveness a thousand times and repented a thousand others. Alucard gently held his shoulder, quiet for most of the time, with no desire to scold him at all.
That's when I had this idea. He asked Sypha for a sheet from the occultists' journal, found both quill and ink, and, in the candlelight, suggested that he wrote down a letter. "Where are you from, sir? Give us an address and we'll go there." Leo could not write more than two words, so Alucard put the sheet on the stool besides the bed and waited for them to recite it. He got the letter in his pocket to remember the exact words.
"Dear Alina,
I find myself, right now, in a hospital bed, in the convent of the city of Ploiesti. Misfortune befell over me: I crashed from the window of the tavern where I am a host and fell from the first floor. My right arm and right leg remain intact, but I broke both left arm and leg on the fall. The sisters still can not tell if I shall walk normally again, or how will my arm be after the fracture. I also broke my nose and my cheekbone, but I am already a lot better. It is, now, the second or third day after the accident; I spent the others unconscious, without being able to eat, see, or hear. I closed my eyes near the window from which I fell and opened them some hours ago, between the walls of the hospital.
My goods are under well care, in the warehouse of the good tavern, and I hope to get better every day, being watched by the skilled sisters. I also hope that God looks after me, as well as after you that wait for my return, our blessed family. No accident will break us apart like that, and I will be back soon, for everyone's relief. Kiss the boys for me, and a kiss for you, too, my love.
From a very missing,
Leo.
P.S.: Wonder not about the handwriting in most of the lines; I can not write properly. A friend redacted it for me."
Friend? He smiled towards the empty of the road. Trevor called from the coachman's bench and asked for someone to read the map. Alucard found it in one of the bags to confirm that the next village was still an hour away. They set up camp there, on the roadside, covering the horses against the cold after feeding them, then lighting up the awaited campfire. Trevor was the first one to mention making food, a soup made of dried provisions that was a good call for that chilly evening. Chewing some beef jerky, Alucard watched Trevor and Sypha sitting close to one another, even if under different sheets. When the meal came to an end, Trevor leaned on a pine tree and she laid her head on one of his legs. It must be the healthy leg. He didn't scream so far.
"How's your knee?" Sypha asked.
"Better. I wouldn't say it's healed already, but to stop using it helps," Trevor sighed, "Can you pass me the arnica, please?"
"Are you talking to me?" Alucard pointed at himself.
"To whomever is near the baggage. In that case, yourself."
Alucard searched for the bottle the tavern keeper filled with the alcohol solution. He looked around to see the creeping plants on which he sat.
"I think we found a lot of these ones," Alucard plucked a flower and handed it to Trevor with the bottle, "Appraise it."
"I'm not the one reading about botanics. Sypha?"
"What?" She had a tone of someone who did not want to be woken up.
"Is this arnica?" Trevor put the flower in front of her face.
"It's easier if you smell it," she turned to the other side, burying herself in the blanket.
Trevor approached the plucked flower to his own nose and made a face of being convinced. He asked for the posy to tie some more of them to it, applied the alcohol on his leg, and handed it all back to Alucard to put back in the baggage. Alucard himself also laid back on a tree, totally sleepless, watching the snoozing two. How many times they might've done the same, and no one was here to see it? He let out a deep sigh and enjoyed the silence.
"What's wrong?" Trevor asked, out of the blue.
Alucard opened his eyes and glanced at him, then facing the starless sky.
"Nothing. Nothing happened, at least. It's just…" Why am I going to talk to you about it? "...In some days, I lament more than in others."
"And what's for today's lament?"
Do I really need to talk about that? Alucard let out a dark laugh, remembering Katrina with the endless trembling, Leo's suicide attempt and coma, the hysteric nun not feeling her legs and the newly blind Mother. The dead priest, borderline putrefact, and the thief in Sohodol he did not even see. The desperate family in the stable, scarred forever. And, to top it off, family is a thing I don't have anymore. His gaze went back to Trevor. But you don't have it either. Sypha was supposedly in her deepest sleep. Someone has to sleep in peace among us.
"It's just the losses," Alucard shook his head.
"In order to lose, one must only have something first," Trevor looked down and caressed Sypha's hair, "Or so they told me."
What do we have to lose, me and you? Alucard cracked his neck and made himself more comfortable.
Trevor picked up a bunch of dry pine twigs and threw it to the flames. "I think we'll be arriving Bucharest in five or six days," he stoked the fire, "I don't know what are we going to find there."
"Besides Leo's family."
"This. It might be a wasted trip, it might be not. But, at least, we have a direction to follow."
"I doubt there's nothing to do in such a big city," Alucard frowned.
What would I be doing if I had stayed home? He looked inside himself and did not find many answers. Sleeping, maybe.
Trevor looked at Sypha, still petting her red hair. "I hope she'll be fine."
"What's wrong with her?"
"Nothing. I mean, right now," Trevor seemed to hesitate, still murmuring, "Bucharest was where she lost her parents."
Alucard swallowed it dry. Alone in this world we are. He felt the need to go pick up a blanket, but most of this need was to walk. He got up to go to the carriage, skipping the roots and walking somewhat lazily. I knew some about her parents, but… Brooding the last night in the castle, he recalled the late night chats and the secret words in his journal. Well, it'll still take some days. He went back to the spot where he sat, him and Trevor keeping a funeral silence in the part of the night in which they were still awake.
The next day began with a muddy road and an unceasing drizzle. A weak bridge awaited for them before the next village, one that should be crossed with all prudence and little weight. Trevor pulled the horses by their reins and one by one, except for the last one, which struggled to bring all the wagon on its own. Some people from the village and from the hovels before it went out to watch the scene, some of them shouting and clapping. I don't wanna scare the horses, I don't wanna scare the horses… At every new beginning of a racket, Trevor repeated the sentence in his mind like a prayer, to prevent from screaming back at some stupid villager. After reorganizing the horses, Alucard sat on the coachman's bench with him, claiming to look for some fresh air, and Sypha did not leave the wagon, supposedly entertained with her book.
He conducted the carriage up to the next village, which name he did not fancy asking either. When they left it, Alucard poked Trevor, asking him to look at the map. They rode by a large path that crossed a grove, after a small farm or another. Trevor peeked at the sheet, with an eye on the road and another one on the map.
"What is it?" Trevor asked.
"I'm afraid to inform you that we're going to cross another-"
After a short hill climb, he was able to see it from there; Trevor suddenly braked the horses. Another bridge, a big, broad one, was full of beams, fixes and other building structures.
"Isn't it exactly what I needed?" Trevor rolled his eyes and let himself get floppy on the bench.
He conducted the carriage a bit more, up to the riverside, where there were campings as far as the eyes could see, of varying sizes. A tired, hunched worker with a saddened semblant passed by carrying a thick board.
"Excuse me, sir," Alucard called him to ask, "Could you tell us how's the bridge repairment status?"
The man assessed him with a strangeness face. "It opens tomorrow, if we're lucky, son. This weather delayed us."
"…Thank you, sir."
Trevor left the bench and let himself fall lying down on the grass. Looking at the brighter side, I really needed to leave that bench a bit. There was no sun to need to hide the face, but he covered his eyes with his forearm and heard some movement around. In a glance, he saw the other two sitting by his side, Sypha with the book and Alucard looking at the time and the passing people. Soon, a shadow was projected onto his face, and Trevor took his arm off of his eyes to see what was that about. A man around thirty, with dark hair turning gray, stared at him with hands on his hips.
"Everything fine, boy?" The man asked.
"Yes, sir. I mean, no, sir," Trevor got up and pointed at the bridge with an open hand, "It's easy to find out why."
The man laughed. "I know, right? We set up camp right there, for the same reason. My name's Florin. We were delivering some hay to Targoviste and its surroundings. Right now, I was going to the tavern-"
"Great," Trevor said, "'Cause you'll show me where it is," he noticed Sypha taking her eyes off of the book and gave him a mean look, "What's wrong, you don't wanna come?"
"I'm not in the mood to read in the middle of such a mess," she shrugged, "I'm staying."
"Whatever. If you need me, you know where I am," he turned his back and started following his new acquaintance.
"Isn't it a good idea to take the carriage inside the village?" Alucard opened his hand to show the rain that started falling.
"Do it while you still can, Trevor," Sypha giggled.
"Oh, please. Have you ever seen me not conducting a carriage?" Trevor climbed up to the coachman's seat again, "Florin, need a ride?"
"Gladly, my friend," the man joined the other two in the back.
Sypha yawned inside the carriage, at the same time that a horse neighed and tapped its hoof on the ground. The coincidence made her laugh, and the flame she had in her hand, to illuminate and to warm herself, flickered with her body. She turned a page of the book and came across a beautiful illustration of a blooming rosebush, with a description of the similarities between it and the apple trees on the other page. That's intriguing. She left the book on her lap and pulled the blanket a bit more over herself without succeeding. Looking to the side, she saw a distracted Alucard sitting on the tip of it. He noticed the pull and apologized, moving to the left of the bench. She thanked and went on flipping pages of the book.
It was not enough for her to warm up in that chilly stable. I could use some Trevor here. It was not enough reason to follow him in the tavern, where they would have no privacy and lots of noise. And I won't get him out of there any time soon. She indeed wanted to read, but she craved silence, more than anything. On the following page, she read: "The apple seeds shall not be ingested, since, in big amounts, they contain a toxic substance still to be identified…"
"You shouldn't fear nature, but respect it, for sure." Sypha smiled, turning another page. Isn't it, Dad? Her grandfather said the same, but her father's voice occurred to her more frequently. She lost track of how many lives they saved, father and son with the same gift. How they cured her toothaches, her childhood fevers, her first feminine discomforts. And, if we needed a roof over our heads, Mom was there to set it. She was not as nearly as affable and smiling as they were. She was a master of building and fixing, and could set up and dismount a camping as fast as a bolt.
In a day like any other… Well, not really. I was grounded. She felt a lump in her throat, accompanied by a sad smile. Together with the other children of the Speakers, she tried to set fire to a barrack. After a scolding like no other, she could not leave to see the city. After that, the city guard appeared at the doorstep of the abandoned house where they hid. They normally showed up to evict them from wherever they were. However, they came with news and a pair of corpses. "A drunkard with a club, we believe. I don't advise that you take off the shrouds."
They rested together in a shallow grave, outside the city, side by side as they had always been. I didn't even have the chance to tell them I loved them one last time. She had cried with her grandfather for days on the road, leaving the city before they had more problems, and for months later. Why do certain things have to happen? The tears came on their own and fell on the pages of the book, a volume she got from the library of the castle without a second thought. She put out the flame and hugged herself. Soon, she was sobbing. Why?
She heard Alucard dragging himself again, this time closer, and felt him put his arm over her shoulders. Sypha could not breathe and hid her own face with her hands. The pain in her chest would perhaps never leave her. He hugged her gently and pulled her closer. Sypha ended up resting her head on the shoulder that sheltered her.
"This book was my mother's," Alucard whispered, as if he talked to himself, when she was sniffing without a word, "It may be yours now."
"Thank you," she made an effort to smile, even in the dark, "I wish you haven't seen me like this."
"You've seen me way worse."
I think we're in the same boat, then. That silence bothered her, like an insect flying around her ears. Trevor's touch was nothing alike; it was like staying quiet with one another was the best option.
"I'd like to talk," she said.
"And what do you want to talk about?"
"Watch out. I'll light up some fire," she held out a hand in front of her and conjured a flame, "I don't know. Ask me questions."
"Questions?"
"About whatever you want."
He took a moment to think. "How do you like the book?"
"It's fascinating. I want to devour it, but I'd rather take it slow."
"That's good," he nodded, "And did you come across something you didn't understand so far?"
"Some things, but I didn't really take notes."
"I hope you've marked the pages, then. And what would you like to read next?"
"About chemistry, or history, or…" Sypha hesitated, thinking two, three, four times before letting it out, "…Your journal, maybe."
"My journal?" He laughed nervously, "Well, that's what we have in the baggage. Do you want to read it now?"
"Not really. You can tell me what's written in it."
"Even if you don't want to read it?" He frowned, "What do you want to know?"
"All that matters."
"Everything matters," Alucard giggled, "So?"
"Tell me everything, then," Sypha felt blood rushing up to her face and dimmed the flame.
"To begin with, I talk about my days, about what happens to me," he enumerated it with his free hand, "About my thoughts, my fears, hopes, and past. I talk about my parents, about me… About you."
"About us?" About me, for sure, "What about us?"
"Do I still need to ask questions?
"I think that counts as a question," Sypha laughed.
"Well, I… I write about who you are, how you are, what you do. What else?"
"It's up to you," I know some of the answer, but I want to hear it from you.
"I also write…" He hesitated, "About the things I feel, even the ones I don't understand quite well."
"What kind of things?" Sypha noticed feeling a palpitation.
"I thought I was supposed to ask questions."
"It's not like it's a rule. But, wait. What are you talking about?" He did not answer, "The things you feel… About us?"
"In a way, yes," Alucard's arm was tense, and he turned his face to the opposite side.
Sypha felt a rush in her chest, and the only way to deal with it was to talk until it was gone. "What do you mean?"
"It's complicated," he sighed and relaxed.
For the love of god, tell me what it is. The palpitation that bothered her was even worse. Is it what I'm thinking? Isn't it? Please.
"It's complicated for me, too," the words escaped her.
Alucard turned his face to stare at her with eyes wide open. "For you?" She did not reply, "What's complicated for you?" He gently grabbed her shoulder, repeating the question.
"You," Sypha whispered, "You are complicated to me."
It's not like I can, but… Alucard turned her to face him and hugged her tight. Sypha corresponded it better than the first time and found in him an unexpected warmth that crossed the physical matters. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, smelling a perfume in his clothes that she did not expect to find. And if things were just a little different, you wouldn't even be here with us.
"Are you sure?" He let go of her to look into her eyes again, "Do you mean what you're telling me?
"What am I telling you?" She struggled not to stutter.
"That I'm… Complicated to you."
"It's just…" Sypha tried to catch the words in the air like butterflies, "You're here so close to me, yet so far."
"I'm right here."
But I can't. She held his arm tighter, letting all air escape her lungs and letting go of him, losing all strength. If I could, I'd have already done it. They hugged once again, in a touch that brought them comfort of another nature. Alucard rested his chin on her head and caressed her back. What about now? When they left one another, Sypha felt her energy left her, too, and that she had forgotten her surroundings for an instant.
"In the library. Do you remember?" She giggled, "I feel like a fool when I look back to it."
"What do you mean?" He frowned.
Sypha laughed out loud the second time. "You didn't notice it?"
"Notice what?"
"When I, you know… When I tried to approach you."
When Trevor didn't exist in that way to me, and I couldn't take my eyes off of you. The memory was a sharp sting that would not go away. When, in the middle of that sea of books, I met you in the corridors, with that serious face of someone who carried the world on their shoulders. She closed her eyes to avoid crying again. When you ignored me until the prophecy came to be.
"Let's say I wasn't fertile ground for that kind of thing when we met," Alucard shook his head.
"I thought of it. That it was nothing personal."
"No, it wasn't," he laughed, "Maybe it is clearer now."
Now that we have this problem called… She stopped herself from putting a name on the situation. It would've been better if none of us had dared to tell.
"What time is it now?" Sypha asked.
"It's late, I believe. And no Trevor so far."
Thank goodness. He made quite a scene because of a lie that wasn't even for him.
"Well, I believe he's safe and sound in the tavern," Alucard completed, shrugging.
"I believe he's wasted, you mean," she snorted.
"That, too. Are we going after him, or…?"
"It'll be good to go for a stroll." I'd stay here for the rest of the night, to be honest.
"Is there any chance he'll be bothered by the time we spent here?" Alucard frowned.
"We could've slept, or played checkers, or tried to set the stable on fire. Would he know?" Sypha got up and headed to the exit of the wagon, "He trusts me. That day in Ploiesti was just a bad moment."
"And a bad choice of mine, don't forget it."
She side-eyed him and held out a hand, unmaking the moody face with a smile. "We've talked about that already. Come."