thanks for the interest. i guess we will see how it goes. i am going to be taking some liberties with characters. don't get judgey - dd45

~oOo~

He threw the body down in a heap with the others, brushing his hands on his tunic in disgust. Vile bit of business this was, but had to be done. He was going to have to burn his clothes by the end of the day, the stench was so bad. It clung to everything, the air, the clothing, his skin. He was going to have to take a bath after this, Sypha would no doubt insist. Trevor grimaced at the thought of her insistence. She would haul him by his balls if he gave any guff. But then he had no one to blame but himself for that, seeing as he was the one who asked her to marry him.

He looked up along the hill line till he found two figures with reddish gold hair and smiled. They were giving instructions to several of the townsfolk and they jumped to do their bidding. Even the local clergy stood at attention when Sypha spoke. About time too, Trevor thought he was going to have to gut those sons of bitches at first, but they eventually came around. They always come around in the end.

They had arrived in Dobreta a fortnight ago to find a city in chaos. Roving hordes of creatures spat out from the very bowels of hell had begun tormenting the populace. After discovering that lifting voices in prayer just was not going to cut it, the call went out for aid, landing on his doorstep. He was not of mind to help him at first. That fucking bishop had the gall to call Sypha a witch and talk of burnings at the stake were bandied about. All of that stopped on the first night they were here, after Sypha incinerated a pack of those bloody monsters trying to get through the gates. That and the bishop who was trying to get her arrested as a witch got his throat slashed by one of those hellbeasts. Trevor saw the whole thing but could not get there in time to save him.

A shame that was. Fucking tragic

All talk of witches stopped after that, at least when it came to the topic of bonfires anyway.

It was Sypha though, who was the true hero. He watched her as she and several of the village wise women talked of healing herbs and doled out instructions to the men on the cleanup. She had grown in strength during the time they had been traveling; in both power and confidence. She had a way about her. A way that could win over the most difficult people. An enthusiasm and hope that was so desperately needed during the dark times. She was compassionate and could see into the heart of men in a manner he never could. She simply brought out the best in people. He had no idea how he ever got along without her. Before he met Sypha he could have cared less what happened. Whether to himself or others, it was not his concern. He just did not give a fuck. And why should he? Had not the people of Wallachia spurned him? Had they not rejected him and his family, destroying his home and casting them out into the night? They could all go to hell as far as he was concerned and deserved every moment of it.

It was Sypha who opened his eyes once more. Sypha, who dragged him kicking and screaming into the world, forcing him to see. It was Sypha who showed him that he was worthy, not only to give, but to receive love.

And he did love her, with every part of his being. Which brought on a whole new level of worry for him.

For if anything ever happened to her it would be his undoing.

He was getting old, well, not that old, but definitely older. He was starting to feel it now. It was time to pass the torch to the young as far as he was concerned. If he had his way, he would take him and his own and go live out life somewhere quietly. Safe and far away from the darkness that still seemed to stalk Wallachia. But that was not her way. And her way was now his way.

Sypha felt there was a responsibility they to the people now. To leave the world a better place than they found it, not just for the present generation but for the future generations to come. Trevor agreed with her, to a degree. While he believed that he did have a responsibility to the future generations to clean the mess that his had left, he did not do it for the people. Fuck the people. No. He did it for his own.

He looked to the second figure next to Sypha. A tall solid lad with hair far more gold than red. People said he was like his father, but Trevor did not see it. Simon was the image of his mother, from the color of his hair and eyes to his firm and steady determination to their cause. Although, he could be a little rash at times, acting before thinking, and his language lately had taken a bit of a turn. Where he had learned that language, Trevor had no idea. He made a mental note to have a word with him about that.

Anyway, what kind of father would he be if he left these monsters roaming the lands? The Belmont legacy, while grand at one time, was not the one he wished to leave for his son. Not for Simon. He saw the world differently, now that he had son. He wondered if his father had felt the same.

Trevor turned and began to make his way up the hill towards where his wife and son stood. Once he was alongside of them, Sypha stepped out to overlook the dead twisted pile of monstrosities. With a quick flick of her hand a spark flew and the grotesque pile below burst into flames.

"There were more this time," she said as he moved next to her. The reflection of the fire burned in her bright blue eyes. "They were still weak, but more."

Trevor nodded, his mouth tightening slightly. There had been more this time.

"The magic used to create them, it's almost …" Sypha's nose wrinkled as she searched for the words, "… as if it's incomplete. As if it was held back, making them easier to kill."

Trevor arched a brow at that. He did not think they were easier to kill. He sighed

"We are being tested," he muttered grimly.

"Yes," she replied, "and no."

"No?"

"No. At least, not right out. Ah! It is hard to explain." Sypha threw her hands up in frustration in that way that Trevor had always found charming. Adorable when frustrated, gorgeous when challenged. Sypha scowled at him. "Don't look at me like that," she snapped.

"Like what?" he blinked innocently. He winced as she poked a little finger against his chest.

"You know exactly what," she said dismissively. Her irritation with him did not last for she threaded her arm with his as they began to walk and he took in the warmth of her pressed against his arm

She tapped a finger absently against her lips as she became lost in thought once more.

"It is as if the spell is incomplete on purpose. Not to test," she mused, "to purposely suppress them, but in secret. The magic is … subtle. As if it did not want to be discovered."

Trevor's brow furrowed as he took in her words. Someone was using magic secretly to suppress them? Or was it suppressed secret magic? Not finishing magic in secret? Bloody hell. The whole damn thing made zero sense to him. One thing he was certain of though was that these were not leftovers from Dracula's hordes. They were ferocious and deadly, but did not have near the cunning Dracula's little shits had.

"Maybe some novice Forgemaster?" God, he hated those fuckers. "Some dumbass apprentice maybe doesn't know what the hell he's doing?"

"Maybe," she said softly, now lost in thought. Her finger continued to tap away furiously at her lower lip. Trevor smiled.

"Hey now," he said as he stopped walking and took her hands in his, pressing them to his lips, "we'll figure this out. And by "we" I mean you of course."

Sypha did not smack him as he had expected but she did smile. God, that smile was worth the risk. Burn him to hell, but it lit up her face. The woman was a gamble but her smile alone was win enough for him.

"You," she said as she leaned up on her tiptoes to place a gentle kiss at the corner of his mouth, "are incorrigible."

He grinned down at her, fully prepared to catch a much better kiss when the sound of familiar footsteps approached from behind.

"Father, mother. There haven't anymore sightings or reports of the monsters outside the walls. Although one or two of the bastards may have gotten away. I will go with Grant to hunt them."

Trevor arched an eyebrow. He really was going to have to talk to him about his language. Where did he pick that up? He turned to look at his son. As tall as he was and just as broad, at the cusp of manhood. By all rights he was man, as far as Trevor was concerned considering the things he has seen. But Sypha still wished to hold on to the little boy. Trevor felt she coddled him too much, not that he would ever say that to her. But he would be of age soon and will want to seek to make his own way. Maybe find a wife and start a family. Much like himself at that age. Sypha was just far too protective to see the bigger picture in a man's life sometimes.

"You and Grant will stay here. Those creatures and long crawled back to whatever hell spat them out by now. Gather some of the townsfolk and help organize patrols."

Simon did not like this and the look of disappointment was plain. Trevor took a step towards his son and lay a hand on his shoulder.

"I know you wish to go out, but the need is here. I need for you to show these people what they need to know for after we are gone. The clergymen have come around, but your presence will help keep them in line. Show them what it is to lead. These people need to know they can follow the church while not being cowed by it. Do you understand?"

Simon looked to the ground and nodded yes. His disappointment was palpable but he understood. When they had arrived the town bishop had the townsfolk believing the terror was of their own making. That they had brought this upon themselves. Nothing pissed Trevor off more than the bloody church. A man could have his faith and not be beaten down by it. People needed to see that. Besides, Simon needed to know that while he may be on the verge of manhood, he was not there yet. It was important for the pup to heed his eldars. Trevor glanced around. "Where the hell is Grant anyway?"

"Here my lord."

Trevor almost jumped. Blast that man had a way of sneaking. A hand shorter than Trevor and a few years older than Simon, his brown shaggy hair pulled back with a sash and covered with hidden knives, Grant Danasty was a wiry strong fellow. They had found him when he was still a boy, possessed by a demon. A nasty business that had been but they had managed to save him. Sypha, being the soft heart she is, refused to just leave him and insisted they take him on. When Simon was born, Grant took it upon himself to be some sort of personal body guard slash liege man or something. Trevor found the whole thing ridiculous.

Still he was strong and agile and was wicked with those knives of his. A good ally to have at your back. And he worshiped Sypha. Trevor would never mind another set of eyes looking out for her.

"Dammit man, I told you not to call me that."

"Yes my lord."

Trevor gritted his teeth and suppressed a sigh. "Did you hear what I said just now?"

"Yes my lord."

"Good. I won't repeat it. I'll trust the two of you to get it done then."

"Of course my lord."

"Oh get the hell off then," he growled exasperatedly.

"Come on Grant," Simon said as the two young men began to walk away, his disappointment ebbing somewhat now that he had a task focus on. "Let's see what we can get that bloody clergy to agree too."

Trevor's mouth pursed slightly. He really was going to have to talk to him about his language. He was glad that Grant was with him to help keep him from trouble. He was a smart boy, but he still had a tendency to react a bit too hastily at times for Trevor. He turned around only to find Sypha giving him a flat look.

"What?" he said, genuinely confused as to what he did to deserve that look.

Sypha shook her head. "You really should start letting him make his own choices. He is a very capable young man. Still, I suppose it is good that he has this task, as we will need to leave him in charge after we are go."

Trevor felt his mouth drop open in disbelief. He needed to let him make his own choices?! What was she talking about! He was the only one who could see him for the man he has become. Wait … what did she say?

"Go?"

"Yes, go. To see Alucard."

If Trevor's mouth had dropped open before, his jaw now hit the ground.

"Alucard," he shouted, "why? What for?"

"Because something is moving Trevor. Something is attempting to cover the land once more. Something dark. And whether it is testing us or being held back in some magical way, doesn't matter. It is coming. Don't pretend you haven't noticed the frequency of these raids. They are increasing. And the once place the once source where we may find the information we need, is with Alucard. You see this yes?"

Trevor stood there gawping, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find the words, or even just the opportunity to interrupt with a good argument. Now that Sypha had stopped talking and was giving him that chance, he had nothing. She was right. Something was moving, rearing its ugly head. And Alucard was the most likely source to have the knowledge to stop it.

Trevor raked his fingers through his hair as let out a long frustrated groan. Alucard.

"You're right, I know, I know. You're right. But just because it is right thing to do, doesn't mean it's the smart thing Sypha. The last time we saw him was before Simon was born, and even then he was already different. It was like he was pulling away from humanity. We haven't seen him in years, who knows what he is like now. It is said he never leaves the castle and that anyone who enters is never seen again. It's a wonder we haven't been sent to dispatch him yet."

Sypha walked to Trevor and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her chin against his chest so she looked up at him. Trevor felt his apprehension melt almost immediately. Her eyes were brilliant blue pools a man could spend a lifetime swimming in.

"But we haven't been sent to dispatch him. And he is doing what he promised, protecting the castle and the Belmont Family Hold."

Trevor wrapped his own arms around her shoulders as he pulled her close to him.

"We don't know what we will find there Sypha," he whispered into her hair.

"We will find our friend."

~oOo~

"Concentrate Sonia, focus on the coin."

Sonia sat on her mother's lap and stared at the large gold coin on the table in front of her. It was a unusual coin, unlike any she had ever seen before. Strange markings covered one side while something that looked like a pointy house was on the other. Sonia did not understand why she had to stare at it.

"Look at the coin Sonia, focus," her mother said again. "See how shiny it is, how smooth it is. Think about how it would feel in your hand. Would it be cold or would it be hot. Which would you want it to be?"

Sonia huffed out a short sigh, fidgeting. She did not want to be here, looking at this stupid coin. She wanted to be outside playing. It was not fair. Every other kid in the world got to outside to play, but not her. No she had to sit up in this stupid room and look at these stupid coins. It was not fair at all.

"The coin Sonia," her mother repeated, "cold or hot …"

Sonia stared at the gold coin. She hated that coin. She decided it would be hot because she wanted nothing more right now that to see it melt away forever, never to be looked at again. Just a stupid gold puddle of goo. Stupid coin. She would think about melting it, crushing it and blasting it away forever. She thought she could almost start to see it bubble, she hated it so much. The desk around it would start to turn black and smoke as the coin burned away and then her mother would let her go outside. Then her mother would finally leave her alone about the stupid coin. Her eyes began to water –

It wasn't fair –

Her mother's voice calling her name –

She hated that coin –

Her mother's voice screaming her name –

Sonia snapped back to focus and realized her mother had her by the shoulders, shaking her violently as she screamed her name, the desk ablaze behind her.

"Sonia look at me! Come back to me! Hear my voice baby, please! Sonia!"

Sonia saw the fire behind her mother and began to whimper and cry. Her mother pushed her out of the room before running back in with her aunt. Sonia watched as they put out the fire with a wave of their hands. Sonia continued to cry.

Sonia's eyes slowly fluttered open as she forced herself awake from the dream. The room was dark but for the soft glow from the fireplace. She rolled over and buried her head under the pillows. She hated that dream. It never made any sense to her. And whenever she woke it always had the lingering trace of what seemed like memory. Ridiculous of course. It must just be because she is at her aunt's house. She always had strange dreams here. She had even dreamed something about a man and sword and falling though a mirror. She really needed to take some time off.

Sonia stretched her legs and arms under the soft sheet, untangling her feet from the long gown she wore as she did. She peeked out from under the pillow to look at the fire. That was nice of her aunt to do ... wait …

Sonia shot upright in the bed, the pillow flying to the floor. This was not her room. She did not go to bed in a long gown. She had not gone to bed at all. She was not in her aunt's house. She was in some strange cavernous looking room with a large fireplace, like out of some medieval fairytale.

She stared at the gold coin. She hated that coin. No this cannot be. This is not real. This cannot be real.

Sonia squeezed her eyes shut and opened them again only to find the room did not change. Her heart hammered in her chest and she thought she might be sick. She had to get out of here. She had to figure out where she was and get home. Oh God, she just wanted to go home.

She pushed back the covers and stepped barefoot onto the cold floor. She shivered almost violently and knew instinctively it was not from the cold. She forced herself to place one foot in front of the other, willing herself towards the door. She thought her heart was going to pound its way out of her chest from fear. She stepped out of the room to find a hallway that seemed infinite in both directions. She did not know which way to go and so she forced one trembling foot in front of the other, terrified that at any moment someone would round the corner and discover her. She came to the end of the hall only to find another one. She turned and began to walk again, coming to the end of that hall to find some stairs. Up or down? Bedrooms were usually upstairs, right? She would take a gamble and head down, till she found another landing. She did not want to go so far down she ended up in some sort of dungeon. Sonia fought another wave of panic and began to repeat to herself that she was going to be alright like a mantra. She walked down the hall till she found another set of stairs and began to descend. On and on she went like this, hallway, stairs, hallway, stairs until she finally collapsed in a heap against the wall of yet another hallway.

Her fear faded into frustration as she began to cry. What the hell was going on? Where the hell is she? What the fuck did she do to deserve this? She wanted to scream, so she did. And then she got up and began to run.

She did not know where she was running to. She did not really care. She was just so frustrated, so angry, and just so scared. Something she hated more than anything. She hated being frightened. Working in an emergency department had taught her to control her fear, to dispel her hesitation. She made decisions. She acted. Practically on instinct. She was not about to be kidnapped and caged in some subterranean torture castle. Her heart thundered and her vision blurred. She could practically feel her blood as it rushed through her veins. She had to get out. She was going to get out.

As she ran, she realized the floor beneath her bare feet had become icy cold. She slowed to stop and looked around. She was no longer in some hallway that led to stairs that led to another hallway. She stood on a landing that stood before a huge grand room.

And at the far end, two great doors that went so far up she could not see where they ended, and led outside.

Sonia thought she may cry, this time with relief.

She was running again. Out the doors and into the dimming sunlight.

~oOo~

Alucard stood within among the ruins of the Belmont manor with some consternation as he watched the young woman run off into the woods. How had she gotten past his wards? They were not anything meant to harm the girl. Just a simple befuddlement spell meant to keep her from wandering off and getting into trouble while in the castle. Simple but also quite complex, as spells go, and this girl just burned right through them as if they were rice paper and then ran off into the night.

It was all very vexing.

For a moment he thought it was all for the best. She was gone now, perhaps back to her people, no longer his concern. He could go back to the existence he had created before this girl had landed on his doorstep. But no, that was not possible. She did not wander to this place, a travel seeking respite. She had stumbled through the looking glass and there was no telling where she was from. So very very vexing.

Besides, there demons prowling the night once more. It was far more likely she would die if he did not follow her.

Alucard felt something then he had not felt in some time. It was dismay. Dismay and uneasiness. Dismay at his callousness and lack of regard for the young woman's life. Uneasiness at how readily he was to accept it. What was he coming too?

Alucard stepped out from the shadows and into the fading light.