Trevor found out through the murmur of some passing monks that the baths would be delayed that day. Great, it's past the time that I take one. The peace of the island was kept even with a dead member among them. Note, a dead man that was walking yesterday. He did not know and was not interested in finding out what would happen to Pavel's bones; he highly doubted that the monks would invite the three to whatever ceremony. Trevor threw in the lake the little rock he fiddled with and went back to his bedroom.

As he opened the door, Sypha turned her head back and smiled calmly. He sat on the bed and saw the occultists' journal open on the table, in a page written in her handwriting.

"Still noting stuff down?" He asked.

"I took a break," Sypha got up from the chair and stretched, "My hands end up hurting a bit."

"I can imagine that. I still remember learning the first words," he held her in a hug on the bed, "Wait, 'hands'?"

"Yeah. I can write with both hands. Haven't I told you?"

"Not really," Trevor scratched his head.

Sypha giggled. "It's not like that's a secret, either."

He kissed the top of her head and sighed. Please, write some more. You're beautiful when you work.

"Is it still the copy of the letter?" He inquired.

"It is," Sypha also sighed, "I wanted a memento."

"I know quite well."

Trevor let his head fall until it touched the wall and faced the ceiling. Why did the man have to die? He did not think he would miss Pavel, given his brief presence and his endless chatter. By the way, how the hell? There wasn't even a hint of flesh in that body. Brother Laurentiu had told them that there was nothing but a skeleton inside the habit. And how was that passage, a sumptuous camp killed him? He felt a weight in his chest. It's hard to trust the world out there. He closed his eyes and hugged Sypha tighter. It's hard to trust others.

"Want me to write a bit?" He offered.

"No. 'I'm the only one that can read', remember?"

"Oh. That's true."

They laughed. Sypha turned her face to stare at the open book, with the borrowed letter by its side.

"He was a good man," she said.

"And he seemed very much alive."

"He did," she agreed.

They enjoyed the embrace for another moment. Trevor excused himself to reach for the jug of water by the bed. It's empty. He stood up, and struck by an unwillingness of going all the way up to the fountain, he decided to grab the one in the other bedroom.

He left to the corridor and knocked on Alucard's door. He did not answer. Trevor knocked again and there was no response. With a push on the door, much to his surprise, it was unlocked; it was just jammed on the floor. He popped his head inside and looked around. The darkness from the closed windows made him see about nothing. His foot hit something that did not move, and luckily, it was the jug. Trevor kneeled to grab it. As he approached his ear from the bed, he heard Alucard breathing deeply in his sleep. It's still morning and he's taking a nap. Trevor drank the water without using a cup and began hearing Alucard muttering.

"Huh?" Trevor whispered.

He poked Alucard on the cheek; he was as cold as usual, but a drop of sweat ran on his face. Actually, he's as cold as a corpse now. He pushed the other's face some more and called him. Alucard corresponded by gritting his teeth and not waking up. Trevor took off his hand. Don't go around biting me. He looked at the jug and poured the rest of the water on the sleeping beauty.

Alucard opened his eyes in the scare and raised his torso, awaken as if he was never sleeping.

"Trevor?" he said.

"You're drenched," Trevor put the jug on the floor.

"Of course, you just threw water on me."

"No, you moron," Trevor pointed at him, "Feel your own neck. You're sweating."

Alucard did so and pulled a bit of his hanging jacket to dry his face.

"What were you dreaming about?" Trevor asked.

"A voice."

"Voice?" Trevor frowned.

"I didn't stutter," Alucard stood up, "A woman's voice. It's been some days that I hear it."

"And why haven't you told us?"

"Because I wanted to be sure of a thing," Alucard grabbed his jacket and got from it the necklace with the red pendant they found in the camp, "You were lucky that I was the one to carry this."

They left the bedroom observing the corridor to check if there was some monk. As they noticed it was empty, they entered the other bedroom. Alucard closed it and did the same to the windows.

"I can't write like this," Sypha protested.

Alucard sat on the bed. "Just a moment."

Trevor also sat. Sypha turned her chair around to face them. This kind of meeting is sort of becoming a routine. Alucard opened his hand to show the crystal as he lit up a small dot of light to make the lively red even brighter. Trevor felt a shiver down his spine, one that he could not explain.

"This thing," Alucard whispered, "I think it means trouble."

"Why didn't you get rid of it?" Sypha asked.

"Because it might be important." He turned to Trevor. "The wolf was the woman from the camp, remember?"

"It's the same kind of crystal it had on its neck." Trevor crossed his arms. "It's a simple deduction."

"Exactly. What matters now is that she's been talking to me. Her name's Greta, as Constantin told us back then." Alucard sighed. I'd rather not name such a killer wolf, but she had a name whatsoever, Trevor thought. "She needs help. She's a lost soul in an unknown place. It's hard to understand what she says, but that part is pretty clear."

"And how do you even talk to her?" Trevor inquired.

"I can hear her in my dreams, in between that state of sleeping and being awake. I haven't seen her yet. I can only hear her. And what worries me… She has no idea how am I not turned into what she was. But I have a good guess." Alucard undid the illusion he had been keeping to cloak his fangs. "I think I'm immune to that sort of curse."

"Could've been worse." Trevor felt the same cold shiver. "Now, Constantin told us that the necklace was bought in Targoviste. It's the other way round if we would investigate."

"We can't leave Leo Alexe's family unaware of what happened to him," Alucard argued, "And we're already a couple of days late."

"To be honest, we're not messengers." Trevor shrugged. "Any place that's got a job is a place for me. But-"

"Try not being so heartless just once. Leo's life was hanging by a thread," Alucard interrupted.

Trevor rolled his eyes. "I never said we would do a turnaround to Targoviste."

"Focus," Sypha requested, "Greta is dead, her husband is, too, and almost everyone from their camp. Let's do something about it in another way."

"Which way?" both of them asked at the same time.

"I don't know, as for example…" Sypha rested a hand on her chin. "How does one talk to a ghost?"

Alucard chuckled. "Let's ask one."

Before the midday meal, Laurentiu knocked on the door to ask if both man would like to join the brothers in the communal bath.

"You had mentioned before, sir, that you looked for one," the young man spoke to Trevor, "This is the day, in spite of what happened… As for the lady, I can try and talk someone into bringing you some soap and a barrel of hot water so that you could bathe in the bedroom."

"It'd be great, Brother." Sypha nodded. "It wouldn't be fair if they were the only clean ones."

"I'll guide you there, given that I'm late." Laurentiu stepped back. "I'll have someone handle you the bath and the water."

The three men left in a bit of a hurry, and Sypha was left alone in the bedroom, busy with the last lines of the letter. I'll stay here and find out where's the damn ghost. Alucard's quill was good and precise; it would never spill any ink, and the calligraphy would come out thin and elegant, as is was of her liking. However, the paper of the occultists' journal was not the best. It had shabby edges, a yellowish shade, and some suspicious stains, even on the blank pages. Sypha found a bookworm on the table, running away from the pages, and crushed it with a finger. She flipped some pages back and found herself rereading the paragraph on the general. "Reputation is something that transcends such triviality that is life." She smiled. Good one, Pavel. Someone knocked on the door and she told them to come in.

"Please, open the door, ma'am," the unknown voice said, "I need help with the weight."

Sypha got up and did so. A grey-headed monk appeared alone, maybe in his fifties and with a limp leg, carrying a barrel almost of his size. She helped him take it to the middle of the bedroom, and the room was left almost spaceless.

"Thanks a lot, Brother." She bowed slightly. "I'll have an excellent bath."

"No doubt about that, ma'am. Would you please allow me to ask an indiscreet question?"

If it's not about my private parts… She thought twice before accepting. "Sure, Brother. What is it?"

"As Pavel's letter said," the monk whispered, "is there a Belmont among us?"

"No, sir." Sypha laughed at her own lie. "Out travel buddy is not quite versed in family crests, and he bought that belt from a street vendor for a trifle. God knows where the family's possessions ended up after the Hold fell, huh?"

"That's a relief." He sighed. "It's a blessing to hear so."

You shall never know that Trevor made that belt himself. Sypha shrugged and had an idea. "Can I pay it back with another indiscreet question, Brother?"

"Sure thing. I'm going too far with meddling in your businesses already, anyway."

"It's about…" Sypha approached to whisper, "the apparition in the monastery."

"Oh, yes." The monk nodded. "We already know it was Pavel. It's in the letter."

"No, I don't mean that."

"The general?" He covered his mouth with both hands. "He's like a raven, it's an ill omen. He also perches like one, they say."

"I see." Sypha frowned. "And does he speak?"

"Some say he does, some say he doesn't… I hope that you don't plan to search for him."

"No, in no way or fashion, Brother."

"So, I'm leaving." He turned on his back. "I have to go light up the pire."

"Before, could you hand me the soap and the towels you have there?" Sypha pointed at the fabric on the monk's shoulder.

"Right, right, I almost forgot it." He laughed and gave her the things. "See you anytime, ma'am."

Sypha said goodbye with a handwave. Well, it was not useless. She closed the windows and undressed until she was only in her underwear, entering the barrel carefully. The water was hotter than she preferred it. As she washed her hair, she peeked at the open book on the table. "On the roof was where we met"... "He perches like a raven"…

"That's it!" she exclaimed to herself.

The door creaked as someone entered. Sypha turned her body and saw Alucard coming in, with Trevor on his heels, both wearing clean clothes.

"That's what?" Trevor asked, balancing a towel on his head.

"The general." Sypha poked half her body out of the barrel out of sheer excitement, wearing no more than a brown sleeveless shirt and underpants. "He's one to be up high. It must be easy to find him somewhere like the bell tower."

"Very good." Trevor kissed her. "Now, how do we climb there without being spotted?"

"Climbing is no problem." Alucard smiled. "It only requires the night so that we're not seen."

The day was gone slowly but patiently, among checkers games and Alucard teaching the other two how to play backgammon with the back of the board. When it was time, he left through the window as a bat, enjoying the good weather of that evening, and hanged himself on the bell tower. A monk climbed up there to chime the bell seven times, without noticing a thing on the ceiling. When he was gone, Alucard turned around the building several times, not seeing any sort of ghost.

He was back in the tower and to his usual form, with both arms on the parapet. A bit of the Moon appeared among the clouds and a fresh breeze waved his clean hair. It would be a good evening, if not for the circumstances. He took the necklace out of the inner pocket of his jacket and heard some screaming and crying that pierced his eardrums. With a pair of eyes used to the dark, he stared at the library tower. An arm crossed its wall, together with a head on its hand. The ghost. Alucard waved and the spirit noticed the movement, even in the dark. He left the other tower putting his head back on its place and floating up to the parapet.

"To what do I owe your visit, young man?" The ghost had a deep, raspy voice, inaudible if more than a meter far from him.

"I want to talk, that's all."

"Oh, sure." The general chuckled. "Before anything, the sacrifice, please."

"Pardon me?" Alucard frowned.

"Don't be foolish. At least a small drop of blood, or we have no deal."

"Uh… Sure."

"Come on, I don't have the whole night," the ghost hurried him up, "I'll leave you here and go for a stroll while you stop shaking, all right?"

"I had no idea, sir."

Alucard opened his mouth and began to pierce his thumb with a fang when general Dragoi laughed out loud, a laugh that all the quietness of the islet might have heard. The wind blew stronger.

"What a beautiful cuspid." The ghost put a hand on his chin. "You don't even need a knife, young man."

"Sir, why do I feel that you're tricking me into this sacrifice thing?"

"You're not wrong in your conjecture. Now, quit the 'sir'. I'm not that old." Dragoi took off his head to greet him. "Or am I? What's your name, young man?"

"I'm Adrian."

"I think we can skip my introduction. It's been a while no one comes looking for me." Dragoi played with his mustache. "At least, not among the living. Perhaps if I give an old monk a heart attack, I'll have some company again."

"We had time to meet Pavel." Alucard held back not to call him "sir". "He left us a letter."

"Hmph. Pavel?" The ghost frowned, and Alucard could swear he saw a hint of emotion in that face. "He came here, weeping like a dog, all woe and pain. No wonder. It's harder to die than it is to kill. It'll go away eventually, but when I thought he was beginning to have some fun…" He made a disappearing gesture with a hand. "He vanished. He's really Ana's son, chicken-hearted and a quitter."

"And your son, I suppose."

"With brows like those, is there any doubt?" Dragoi laughed some more. "I met the girl because of a bet. She made one with her friends and lost, and in a camp celebration, they were all looking behind the bushes as she had to suck it up and talk to me. But there was a lot of 'don't touch there', 'don't do that', 'my dear God, what are we doing'…"

"Spare me from the details, please," Alucard requested.

"Jaunty women were more of my liking. How about you?"

Why am I talking about it with a bloodthirsty spirit from twenty-something years ago? "I'd say that I'm attracted to the intellectual kind."

"You go right for the troublesome ones?" Dragoi whistled. "Brave man."

"Anyway." Alucard sighed. "I come to you due to a problem I've been having. We've been having, actually. We're a group, but I'm the most afflicted one."

"Not that I'm a good confessional, but go ahead. Since you've looked for me, I might be of some help." The ghost shrugged.

"Would you know how could I communicate with a lost soul?"

"Well…" Dragoi had a moment to think. "I wasn't lost for too long, but while I was, I didn't talk to anyone."

"And what did you do to find your way?"

"See, young man, when you die, light drags your attention a lot. Fire, reflexes, even the full Moon. It's easier to see them and to follow them. And there are dead ones that don't accept that they're dead, they don't even know they died! To some of them, you've got to do that reality check."

"I think that's not the case. She's just in pain."

"And who are we talking about?"

He got the crystal from his pocket and Greta's voice crossed his ears with a high-pitched shriek.

"Is someone there?" Dragoi asked, pointing at the necklace.

"She might not be in there, but this is the bond we seem to have."

Alucard told the general the story about the camp, from the flames to the slaying of the wolf.

The ghost did not move a single face muscle to the mention of Greta killing three people, nor did he do it when he heard Trevor degolated her. "And was it the woman?" he asked.

"It's the most probable." Alucard closed his hand around the pendant. "All we've got from her is this necklace and a name."

"And what'll happen if you set it on fire?"

"It doesn't read like a good idea."

"It might be a good idea. It'll attract the woman to you. And given that you don't know if she got into her head that she's dead…" Dragoi returned a falling eye to its socket. "I suggest that you try to contact her down here, under my blessings."

"The crypt?" Sypha asked, "We don't have the key."

Alucard shrugged, sighing. "It's the best we could think of, sorry."

"I can try to mess around with the lock." Trevor searched the baggage for a thin lockpick, one made to open doors and chests. "Maybe that'll do."

"I'd ask why do you even have that, if I didn't know you." Alucard chuckled.

"I really fancied setting free from that prison with this thing. The problem is that they break, and then, you don't have it anymore," Trevor said.

"That's no problem at all." Dragoi poked out of the wall.

Everyone screamed, with their backs facing the side from which he appeared. The general laughed like a thunder, ruining the silence of the monastery.

"It's child's play to find out who has the keys." The ghost played with his mustache. "Wait for me just a minute."

Sypha relaxed her disgusted face and put her hands on her chest to feel her upbeat heart. Why do people around me love to startle me? They waited until Dragoi reappeared, showing up with his head through the door.

"Do you have a light step, Belmont?" he asked.

"Uh, how did you find out?" Trevor frowned.

"That thing is not very subtle." The ghost pointed at Trevor's belt. "I think you do, so, up on your feet and follow me."

Trevor left the bedroom with Dragoi by his side and stepping quietly, not closing the door. The two remained silent in the bedroom, looking around, sitting on the bed and apart by half a meter. Right, that's enough.

"Wanna see the copy of the letter?" she asked.

"Sure, please."

Sypha got up from the mattress to pick up the book and the candle. She handed them to Alucard, who thanked her and skimmed through it, coming and going by the pages with a half-smile.

"What a fine handwriting." He did not take his eyes off of the book. "Even more when it comes to the rest of this journal."

"True, isn't it?" Sypha giggled, feeling her face getting slightly warmer.

"I don't know if mine can compare." Alucard got Leo Alexe's letter from his inner pocket and unfolded it. "Please, tell me what you think."

I've seen it before, you just don't know it. Sypha ran her eyes over the paper, a sheet gotten from the same binding where she copied Pavel's words. Still, the elongated, elegant letters were beautiful to her a second time.

"It's readable most of the time, I believe," Alucard commented.

"Not just that, it's really neat." Sypha handed back the letter. "It's quite inclined to the right, though…"

"And that's a precious compliment, coming from you."

"Sypha noticed the blood rushing to her face again and changed topics. "Would you believe if I told you that some Speakers can't write?"

"It's not hard to picture that, but I guess that all of them can read."

"Not among the oldest ones. My grandfather can. He taught my father, and I learned with both."

Alucard's body shrugged, as if he felt a sting, with a hand on his head and both eyes closed. Sypha touched his shoulder and asked what was wrong.

He opened his eyes again. "The woman in the crystal."

She gently squeezed his shoulder. "I wish I could do something."

"I'm fine," Alucard said. Sypha gave him a mean look for the lie. "What?"

She frowned. "Who do you think you're trying to fool?"

"Sorry." With a disheartened smile, Alucard held the hand that Sypha put on his shoulder, and soon let go of it. "I think being fast now is enough for me to get rid of it as soon as possible. And we wouldn't know what to do if it wasn't for you."

Sypha opened her mouth to disregard her efforts when Dragoi's chopped head entered the bedroom, with a sinister "hello" that did not startle them.

"Everything terrific around here?" the ghost asked.

Trevor pushed the door gently, not closing it, and showed off a bunch of keys. "Today's hunting prize." He smiled. "Let's go, everyone."

Sypha helped Alucard get on his feet. They put out the candle to take it away, as well as some others from the baggage and a bit of straw from the mattress, discreetly taken.

They followed by the corridor, guided by Sypha. Alucard crawled on the floor in mist form and Dragoi floated near the ceiling.

"The door creaks," she whispered, pointing at the entrance of the bell tower, "What are we going to do? I don't doubt that we awoke the whole monastery by now, but…"

"That'll be no problem, milady." Dragoi descended from his flight and put himself between the hinges. "Open it and try it out."

"But which one's the key?" Alucard asked.

Trevor approached to compare some keys to the lock, and decided rightfully that the second biggest one seemed to fit. The door made no sound except for the lock. Great. Sypha tapped onto the floor and lit up a candle to find the passage, lifting the trapdoor.

"Since you found your way, I'm afraid that tagging along will just scare the dead girl." Dragoi chuckled. "You know how's the people. I'll leave you here."

"Thanks for everything." Alucard held out a hand and got it back when the ghost crossed it.

"No problem, young man. See you anytime."

Dragoi crossed the ceiling towards the tower and disappeared. They climbed down the stairs, each one holding a candle.

Sypha recalled that the place was short on space, but with so many people, the crypt was even more suffocating. The skulls' eye sockets stared at them as they passed, each one in front of a funeral urn. In the end, one could find the general's, with his crown on top. He's legendary, but being dead, he's just like any other. She looked around, searching for new bones. Where might be Pavel?

"There's not much room to choose, but I think the middle is good." Sypha stopped walking. "Let's dispose the candles in a circle around us."

"You mean a pentagon." Trevor showed two unlit candles gotten from his pocket. He tried to light them up using his own candle and Alucard took them from his hands, doing so in a flash. "You could've asked for it," Trevor protested.

"You could've asked me." Alucard put them on the floor.

"Now, the straw." Sypha avoided an eye roll and unfolded her tunic, containing the loot from the mattress, and put it in the middle. "And the necklace."

Alucard breathed in deep and got the crystal from his inner pocket, positioning it in the straw. He had the compenetrate stare that Sypha met a year before. It looks like he's carrying a weight. She felt a heartache. A weight that's his and only his. Sypha set the straw on fire, a single spark that would spread on its own with time. They all sat crossing their legs.

"What if we held hands?" she suggested.

They exchanged looks and did so, not without a disgusted look from Alucard to Trevor and a look back. It's no use scolding them right now. Sypha gripped tighter on both hands she held and told everyone to close their eyes.

"I want you to know that we're here. That we're listening," she began, "Can you see us? Can you hear us?" There was no change. "Please, speak to us, we want to talk. Don't be afraid."

Sypha felt her left hand being pulled. In that subterranean silence, she heard one of the breaths gasping for a second and then coming back heavier.

"Do not hurt him." She held Alucard's hand tighter. "He's going to help you. The three of us will."

The pulling stopped.

"Follow the light in the middle, that's where we are." Sypha opened a bit her blurry eyes.

The crystal still had its lively shade, but was intact, while the smoke of burnt leather plagued the little air there was in the crypt. Alucard let out a brief, muffled sound of agony, gritting his teeth.

Sypha held back not to tend to him. "Talk to us. What's your name?"

"I'm Greta Florescu," Alucard replied with his own voice, in a tone what wasn't his.

"How old are you?" she asked.

"I'm twenty-nine."

"Do you have a family, Greta?"

"I'm married to Marius Florescu. We have no children, but our Lord shall bestow His grace upon us."

I'm so sorry. "What's happening with you?" Sypha asked.

"I'm lost." His voice became tearful. Sypha opened her eyes some more, and a tear fell down Alucard's cheek.

"How's the place where you are?"

"I can't see a thing. There's no one here."

"You can hear us, though."

"I can, yes, I can."

Sypha took a deep breath. What about now? She held both hands tighter, looking for Alucard.

"Have you touched me?" Greta asked.

"I did." Sypha opened her eyes completely and turned her head to the left. "I just touched your hand."

She saw Trevor pressing the hand he held, with his eyes still closed.

"I felt it on the other hand," Greta confirmed.

"Hold onto us, Greta. We'll guide you." I hope it works, Sypha thought. "Try to walk forward."

Both her and Trevor held the hands tighter, with their eyes already open. Alucard let his head fall and released a distressed moan in his own voice. Should we stop? He panted and trembled, until he suddenly stopped. Alucard opened his eyes at once and looked around, letting go of both hands. He raised his shaking fingers to stare at them, almost screaming in terror when Trevor jumped onto him to cover his mouth.

"Please, don't," Trevor whispered, holding one of Greta's arms above her head. She struggled against it, using the strength of the body she was in. Trevor immobilized her grabbing onto the other arm. They waited and waited until she was out of energy, in an endless cry underneath Trevor's hand. "I won't hurt you," he murmured, "See?"

Trevor tried removing his hand and Greta did not scream. Sypha dragged herself closer. Alucard's face was soaked in tears; he breathed through his mouth and his tangled hair covered his eyes. Sypha created a polished ice shard in the air that would suit as a mirror.

"Greta, look." Sypha gulped. "This is not you."

The woman gasped as she saw another face. "What happened to me?" she asked. They did not reply. "Where's my husband? What is this place?"

Trevor killed you. You're surrounded by bones in a crypt, far from wherever is your home. And you killed every person you could put your paws on.

"What's the last thing you remember?" Sypha inquired.

"The camp at night. Marius hugging me. Florin had left to the village, and the rest was by the campfire."

And there was blood on the grass, a man split in half, another without a leg, and a third one with his chest ripped apart. The scrawny horses were dead, too, and there were two of you left, carrying them all to the grave.

"I was dizzy, my head hurt. I thought it was a sign, our blessing, maybe… the jewel bringing us luck. A child, finally." Greta put both hands on her face and seemed like crying again, staring at herself in the mirror. "What happened to me?

"The jewel was a work of the enemy," Sypha said, "He poisoned you."

"Am I dead?" Greta asked.

They were silent for a moment.

"Yes," Trevor confirmed.

"Am I in Hell?"

"No." Trevor shook his head. "This is but a crypt."

"Where is Marius? Where are the others?"

Sypha and Trevor exchanged looks. We can't tell her.

"They took you to the place where you were born, to rest in God." Sypha held Greta's shoulder.

The woman cried and cried. Trevor held her hand and Sypha hugged her. It's totally different. She hugged a little tighter. It's not Alucard.

"We're setting you free." Sypha let go of her. "But first, we need to know about this jewel."

"A lady sold it to me in Targoviste. For feminine problems, she told me."

"And how was she?" Sypha asked.

"Not very old. She had a strong scent, like a perfume…" Greta shook her head. "She had big, blue eyes, but that's all I remember. Sorry."

"It's fine." Sypha smiled unwillingly. "It's going to help anyway."

"And where are you sending me?" Greta asked.

We don't have a clue.

"To the eternal peace of our Lord," Trevor replied.

And that's a good take, but it's a blatant lie.

"Amen," Greta said, "I'm so, so tired."

"Please, sit here," Sypha requested, "and hold hands with us once again."

Back to the circle, she noticed that the woman was shaking.

"What's wrong?" Sypha asked.

"This young man who's with me," Greta muttered, "Is he going to be fine?"

"He is." Sypha comforted her. I don't know.

Greta lowered her head. "I hope he can forgive me."

Sypha began declaiming Mother Bethania's chant over and over again, with its winding ups and downs, until the words lost all meaning. She opened her eyes to see the crystal. It finished absorbing the fire, becoming incandescent and no longer the color of blood. She saw the birth of a crack onto it and Alucard fell back like a ragdoll, with his eyes rolling, almost hitting a candle. Sypha and Trevor leaned upon him to see if he lived, both sighing of relief as they noticed he had a pulse. They heard the sound of something cracking; as they looked back, the crystal burst, becoming a thin powder in the air.

"Why do I even worry?" Trevor smirked. "He's tough as nails."

You should've kept it to yourself. Sypha chuckled bitterly.

They cleaned each and every vestige of being in the crypt before they left. Sypha found a jug with some lamp oil in a corner, a dusty and old thing, and applied it to the hinges of the door after they crossed the trapdoor. She looked back and saw Trevor struggling to carry a passed-out Alucard upstairs.

"Need help with that?" she asked.

"I think I can do it." He got the deadweight off of his shoulders as they left the underground and held him in his arms, with an effort grunt. "Better now."

He carried you when you were drunk. This is just payback. Sypha held back her speed to tag along. Near the bedroom corridor, there came a monk with a torch, and she almost cheered when she saw he was Laurentiu.

"Good evening, sir and ma'am." The monk had a questioning face. "What's wrong with him?"

"He passed out, I guess." Trevor shrugged. "We noticed he wasn't around and found him on the floor around here."

Laurentiu stepped forward and guided them. "Please, take him to the bedroom, I'll see what I can do."

The young acolyte left them after they put Alucard in bed and he certified he was all right. Trevor and Sypha closed the door and stared at one another.

"I'm exhausted." She sighed.

"It ain't just you." Trevor stole one of Alucard's blankets and sat on the floor. "Come here."

She snuggled beside him, under the blanket he offered. Sypha did not want to talk, and Trevor did not begin a chat either.

Sypha recalled waking up several times during the night when she saw sunlight through a fret of the window. In all of them, she checked if Alucard breathed. He slept the whole night the way he was put onto bed, without moving a single muscle to change his position, and still slept peacefully as she woke up for good. Looking to her side, she saw Trevor with his arms crossed, staring at the window.

"Good morning," she greeted. He said the same with a whisper and a kiss on her cheek. "How are you?"

"Tired and sore."

"It ain't just you, either." Sypha stretched and her head was back to his shoulder.

Shortly after that, someone knocked on the door, and it was Laurentiu calling them for breakfast. The young man detected them in the bedroom with questions to be asked, but said nothing in the end.

"Could you bring us food to the bedroom once more, Brother?" Sypha asked.

"I'll ask them if I can, ma'am," Laurentiu said.

He left. I'm not hungry. Sypha closed her eyes. And I don't really want to see people right now.

Alucard found himself lying on his side and alone in the bedroom. He blinked twice so that the blur on his eyes went away and turned up his body. Tapping onto the inner pocket of his jacket, he found there only Leo's letter. The necklace is gone. With a look around, the barely closed windows let the light in. What time might it be? He sat with his back on the headboard. How did I wind up here? He laid a hand on his forehead. My head doesn't hurt. On the contrary… It feels weightless. He looked at his open palm, closing it again.

What happened last night? His memory of going to the tower and talking to the ghost of the general that haunted the islet was crystalline. A conversation that made very little sense, by the way. He laughed alone at his own absurdity. The rest was a tangled mess made of voices and scenes of the bedroom of the monastery, until he left it, and from that point, he could not recall any more. But a thing is certain. He took a deep breath and felt like something was missing. Greta is gone.

He heard footsteps coming from the corridor. The door opened with a push and Sypha entered the bedroom with a mug in her hand.

"I'm glad that we won't need to wake you up." She handed him the mug, one that he found out to be warm. "It's wine with honey. They told me to give it to you."

Alucard took a sip from it and found it not to be of poor quality. But it has some water in it, that's undeniable.

"Please, don't stay there on your feet." He tapped on the bed by his side.

Sypha sat there, just like the vague memory he had of being that way the night before.

"How are you?" she asked.

"I don't know." He took another sip of the wine. "You?"

"I feel strange." Sypha scratched her head. "So, I think I don't know either."

They both giggled.

"That woman, Greta." Alucard stared at the ceiling. "She's not here anymore."

"I know quite well."

And my suspicions are confirmed.

Alucard smirked. "I won't miss her haunting."

"I don't want it to happen again."

He sighed. "You know, I don't remember much from yesterday. I'd be grateful if you could fill me in."

"It was…" Sypha hesitated. "Strange. I believe that to be the best word, indeed."

"Did you tell her what happened?"

She shook her head. "Maybe it was better that way," she said. I don't disagree. "She apologized to you in the end."

"Greta?" Alucard frowned. "Well, I understand. It wasn't her body, to begin with."

It was mine. His face became somber. Luckily, it was mine. He stood up to feel the blood run in his legs, leaving the lukewarm mug with Sypha.

"Still on yesterday," he continued, "on the topic of the stone, especially."

"What was that?" she asked.

"Maybe you recall hearing me say that I've seen it before," he began discoursing in the bedroom, in that bitter moment, "Greta's soul was fused to the jewel, and it was made of soul, or souls, to sum it up. You might have heard of the philosopher's stone. It's not the same thing, it's the stage of something close to it." He turned to stare at Sypha, completing himself. "The Crimson Stone. It was still in a pretty unstable state, therefore capable of mutating a human being to that point… and capable of creating yesterday's commotion."

"Problems, isn't it?" Trevor appeared at the half-open door, with his usual laid-back posture.

"Yes, your speciality." Alucard half-smiled. "I was about to search for you."