Let the Symphony Last for Eternity

Written By: Lady Lunar Phoenix

A/N: Not much fixing here...

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

The mausoleum had been undisturbed for centuries, multiple generations of spiders had created their own brand of architecture in the building, spinning their vast webs from corner to corner. Adding a delicate lace that draped itself over the long wicked candles that had not been lit for just as long a time. Dust added to the delicate threads that, in light, gave a timeless yet mournful symbolism of the passage of untouched eternity. No one came to visit this lonely place of the dead, the humans who had lived in the village around it had long since been killed or ran away, the monsters knew better.

Once upon a time, the small chapel that rested before the mausoleum was surrounded by a small, modest village. Until the day they burned an innocent woman who had been accused of witchcraft. Once Dracula had been through with that town nothing 'but' the chapel remained standing. Dracula couldn't destroy it, for the same reason he allowed the Chapel in the Castle to exist at all. Lisa had been very religious despite being married to a vampire and mother to a dhampire.

Now, centuries after those terrible dark times, the skies above the town ignited with vivid blue and gold light as lightning danced. Akin to rivers of energy pouring from heaven into the evil choked earth below. The flashes of light spilled into the dust coated windows of the mausoleum, casting its light against the stone slabs, turning the melted candles into skeletal fingers that stretched towards the dark ceiling as though begging for that river of power.

Perhaps the heavens answered the beseeching fingers, surely there had to be some symbolism to how the rumble of thunder merged so fluidly with the scraping of stone on stone. The stone lid that rested on top of the vault was carved into that of an angel resting on its side, clutching a parchment in their arms. Long haired and androgynous the gender as well as the sacred texts further hidden under the deep dust. Yet the lid moved in stages, swirling up ages old dust into the air with each move or knocking it down like dried earth crumbling. Revealing bits of the text, but even then the lid didn't slide ungracefully to the ground, rather the edge lowered with the utmost care. As though unseen hands moved it with all the care of a new mother with her first born. Revealing beneath it a dark wooded coffin protected on all sides by the carved elaborate stonework.

Dust hung in the air, drifting back to the ground lazily restoring everything to a dusty untouched look, save the revealed coffin. Though lightning still danced in the sky outside, illuminating the room at intervals, not a drop of water fell from the dark, heavy clouds above. Yet it was between these flashes of light that the lid to the coffin disappeared.

Black leather gloved hands gripped the sides of the vault pulling the figure inside up into a sitting position. Vampires did not need air save for talking, with a heart that had long since grown still and a body that did not starve for oxygenated blood. There simply wasn't a need. So the first things he had to remember was how to breath in and out, once more using muscles stilled for so many long years again. Sight came back slowly, in the brief illuminations of light that came from the electric storm outside.

Within those flashes of light, he could see the long loose waves of his hair, blonde so pale it bordered white. A clear sign that the spells he once wove had truly dissolved over time. As his body slowly caught back up to speed, and the habit of actual breathing was restored he finally found words in his head that needed to be voiced.

"Why?" his body may have retained some form of fitness despite the ages, but it took a bit of work to get words out of his mouth. For anyone else, it would probably seem abnormal to be able to wake up from such a long sleep and not feel stiff or disorientated. There was no difficulty in raising his hands to his face to examine, to insure that he was, in fact, awake. Even as he pressed his hand to his upper chest to check the subtle vibration of his words. "Why have I awoken?"

This was supposed to be a sleep that lasted eternity. A long dreamless slumber that could be punctured with the occasional nightmare of his mothers' death, but nothing more. So what could have happened to wake him up? He gripped the vault more firmly as he pushed himself to his feet, meanwhile his mind slipped back to when he cast the original spell. The anchor he had used was the very conflict between the personifications of good and evil, the innate holy powers of the Belmont clan, against his fathers' evil.

So why was he awake? There could never be a clear victor in such conflict, good without opposition turned on itself and would become evil. Evil would churn like chaos until good was manifested. He closed his eyes and let his own dark senses stretch their wings after so long, the flashes of lightning in the sky, the rumble of thunder did nothing to pull his focus away. But just elevating his senses to that level caused him recoil, the presence of his father's castle should have meant that his father had returned. But he sensed none of his father's anger induced madness, the castle was without a master? Impossible.

But his 'touch' was discovered, the darkness that had been encroaching and retreating with each flash of light suddenly didn't retreat. His fathers' darkness flowed about him like an ocean, yet it didn't swamp him like he expected. A vortex of pure darkness, untainted by rage or hatred, instead it flowed like a gentle river, in the flashes of lightning he could almost make out figures in this darkness. But never hostile, always looking like a child curious of this new development. What had happened?

He stepped outside his coffin and vault, before reaching into that vast darkness that surrounded him, reaching for that sense of curiosity. Yet in the instant before contact, the vortex flew away like a flock of startled bats. Leaving him both wary and concerned, his father was immortal, but his memory could not be 'that' terrible. So why did the darkness seem curious about him, not just curious but unskilled? Dracula had taught a great deal about the darkness to Alucard, so what happened to the steady flow of power?

Shaking his head, he discarded the thoughts as he went about opening the sealed chests that carried his weapons and armor. Dust had not touched the armor as it laid in the chest, the dragon helmet still looked just as threatening as it had been the day he had been given them. Beneath it rested the rest of the armor, dark as night with gold trim and clasps that allowed for a cloak to be attached to it. Resting before the muzzle of the dragon helmet was a single sheathed sword, he curled his fingers around the hilt as he lifted up the blade. Pulling it free from its sheath one would think he had tended to the blade the day before, rather than centuries.

Between the flashes of lightning he could see his own eyes staring back at him, reflected by the light of the blade. He took a moment to study the blade before resheathing it and donning his armor.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ The Cliff \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

"Do you have to go?" He asked, when Alucard turned his back on the group he had been traveling with. "I realize it must be difficult, but, you're our friend, you shouldn't have to suffer alone."

"You can not begin to understand my suffering, my blood is a cursed one, it would be best for the world if I were to simply disappear."

He had stood on that same small cliff centuries ago, walking away from the first group of humans he had ever interacted with since the death of his mother. It had been difficult back then, he hadn't eaten in quite a while and the hunger was gnawing at the back of his throat. It was easier this way, to leave and sleep instead of fighting the hunger for the rest of his life. Now he stood alone, overlooking the same lake that rested below his father's castle.

"Perhaps this is the fate of my cursed bloodline." Perhaps in the end, sleeping wouldn't do enough. The balance of power was far more damaged than he realized when he first woke up. The castle rested above on a cliff, but that was all there was. The rage tinted aura that had existed when his mother died was gone. Could his father have finally have lost his rage?

But no, even if his father wasn't angry there was something wrong. He could feel the taint better now that he was here. A taint that was enough to make him take leave of the cliff and begin a run for the castle. The Belmonts' holy power was bleeding into darkness, a new unholy magic was being born within the castle walls.

The balance was being knocked aside, holy powers were turning malevolent while darkness was seemingly both subdued and merciful. The trees were a blur as he ran by, wind pulling at his cloak and hair slowing down his speed, his inhumane abilities allowed him to glance up and see that at the highest point of the castle, there was light. The Master Chambers of his father were in use while the drawbridge to the castle was lowered and the gate pulled back.

Even after all this time his father opened the gates for his return. It was an act that unnerved him, even as he continued rushing forward as the sound of the ancient wood falling into place on the stonework gave a loud deep thud. But even as the chains grew slack, they started to be pulled taunt again. He didn't slow down, he knew how high he could jump and so long as he got to the drawbridge in time he knew he could still get into the castle.

The thick wooden gears that time could not touch due to the state of the castle began to rotate again. Fitting the thick chains between them like a giant's teeth grinding away as the drawbridge was lifted up slowly. Though the law of nature demanded that all things turn to dust in the end, the wood in the drawbridge and the metals that held it together bore no more decay then something that had been around a year. One would be hard pressed to believe that these things had existed for centuries. Hard to believe that the castle fell in on itself two hundred years ago after the lord of the castle had been killed.

Harder to believe he was coming home despite the fact that he had aided in his father's death, or that his father would let him in the castle. Which was were the guilt and thoughts ran through Alucard's mind as he jumped onto the angled drawbridge and half slid half ran down it onto the castle grounds. Behind him the gate swung shut in time with the drawbridge slamming shut while a lone warg lifted its head and gave him a passing glance.

He said nothing to the beast before he walked by it, ignoring the sparse landscape about him like he hadn't aided in the death of his father. Like he didn't just run out of the castle as it fell about him ages ago. For he had complete and total rights to enter his fathers' castle unannounced as its Lords' son and the Prince of Vampires.

"Welcome home, young master." There was a zombie maid standing off to the side, a vase tucked against it as the maid curtsied for him. 'Welcome home'?!

He gave the being a glance before looking ahead of him and giving the castle a proper look. The floors were swept, the rug looked to be new, the walls themselves still had signs of chunks having fallen down. Though the castle was its own being, it took forms that appealed to his father, but having said that. Was the whole of the castle like this?

"Have you alone been attempting to clean the castle?"

"No, young master. It's through the effort of all of us, so that your father, the Lord will find things to his pleasure."

The sensation of rage that he was so accustomed to since the death of his mother was strangely absent. But so was the sensation of chaos itself, it was as though the castle had been cleaved of its chaotic dark attributes and left almost akin to any other structure. Yet the warg outside and the maid here clearly marked this castle as still under his fathers' influence.

"I wish to see the Lord of the Castle," a simple order to an underling.

However, the maid looked ready to drop the vase she had been holding, her near lifeless eyes suddenly became lively in a horrified sort of way. Alucard had never been raised to doubt his actions or words, he was raised to understand the importance of his station. But given the look he just received he was starting to feel as though he should double check, just this once.

"Is there a problem, that you feel it is necessary for you not to comply?"

The zombie looked ready to melt in fear, she clutched the vase to her chest more tightly before giving an audibly shaken "no. This way young master."

He followed the zombie down the long hallway, the candles lit and the lightning outside illuminating the whole hallway. Not that he needed a great deal of light to move about, but that was beside the point. However moving past that point, he found a much bigger jump and a rather modest zombie.

"Ahh, young master..."

He didn't say anything, he merely turned around and waited while she thanked him profusely and made the jump. He could hear the ripples of wind on the maid uniform and the squeak of embarrassment before heeled shoes landed on stone steps.

"Thank you, young master!"

He didn't say a word as he turned abruptly and jumped down to the stairs as she moved up them towards a moderate sized stone that the stairs were built into. A human sized tunnel allowed for the pair to travel on without climbing above it. While the zombie continued carrying that vase...

For a moment Alucard wondered why the maid kept carrying the vase, if it was meant to go outside, wouldn't it have been easier to put it down? Return for it after she had led him to his desired destination? Then again she 'was' a zombie and while a more recent deceased given the state of her body, she could only retain so much information. Or maybe she was scared his father might slay her on sight for leading Alucard around and forgot to put it down. The pattern out of the room repeated itself as she had to jump up to the next ledge.

They passed another Warg when Alucard found himself outside again, to the left in the distance where stakes driven into the ground with bodies impaled upon them in gruesome manners. The maid had dropped down, and was already climbing up the other side when he turned his attention to the storm clouds overhead. He was home, as insane as that sounded he was back in the castle and hadn't been assaulted once by anything.

The sound of air being sliced with a sharp blade brought his attention to the center of the small area he was in. The maid was gone, but Death faded into view with his scythe in hand back swinging back to rest against the spirit's shoulder.

"Ah, Alucard. What is your business here?"

"I've come to put an end to this," Alucard replied, his hand reached for the hilt of his sword as he faced one of his old instructors.

"Ever the insolent boy... But there'll be no games here. If you will not behave, be gone. There be enough plots without your meddling."

"I will do neither. Step aside, old man," perhaps Alucard had a bit too much pride in himself. The creak in leather and subtle grind of metal touched his ears as he began to draw his sword at the presence of one who could easily be a threat.

"Ha, such arrogance, very well. But I shall see you very soon."

Death gave a wave of his arm and suddenly Alucard felt his armor and weapon ripped from him. The straps that kept the armor in place undid themselves with a snap before yanking away from him, his sword stripped from his side in the same manner. Even his shield was pulled away by Death, leaving him with no way to defend himself. If the rest of the castle proved dangerous...

"What?!" Offended? Alarmed? Where could one even begin with how Alucard felt at that moment. Even as Alucard was processing what just happened, Death flew up into the sky...

"Damn it!"

Alucard's head snapped up to see a white coat tumbling towards the ground from a good distance above. A human would have been killed when they hit the ground, however; this being managed to twist himself into a proper position and landed rather neatly on the ground. For a human.

From his elevated position Alucard watched as the stranger began picking up small thin sticks, and a strange clear bag with something white in it. A Dark Child? How was there a Dark Child in the castle that didn't serve his father? And the stranger didn't, he lacked Dracula's chaos induced cruel touch. Shoulder length white hair, a long white coat with a fur collar, the clothes were a little odd to Alucard. Then again he had been asleep for quite some time and couldn't be counted on to have an up to date knowledge on clothes. Perhaps it was people wore in this day and age?

"Didn't your parents teach you it's rude to stare?"

The stranger turned to look at Alucard with such a gaze that Alucard was struck dumb for a moment. How could it be that this person held a gaze that could freeze him in place? The annoyed gaze continued as the stranger waited for an answer. But Alucard couldn't find a way to even motivate himself into speaking, and after a bit the gaze on him shifted into mild confusion and Alucard felt the freeze on his body lift.

"Can you hear me?"

"Yes, I apologize, your sudden arrival startled me," Alucard answered, shaking himself loose of the misgivings he had of this stranger.

"Oh... well yeah I didn't plan to just drop in like that," the stranger replied looking mildly embarrassed himself. "I actually just wanted to roast some marshmallows, but that didn't sound like a great idea in the library and it's raining at the outer wall."

"I see... and you travel the castle unarmed?" Alucard asked, noting the lack of weaponry or armor on the stranger.

"Look who's talking," the stranger retorted as he speared a 'marshmallow' on a small stick. Reminding Alucard that Death 'had' just stolen all his means to defend himself.

"Death forcibly removed them from my persons, it would seem that at least he is not so welcoming towards my presence here."

"Oh," the white haired young man replied, his expression rather thoughtful. "Death has never spoken to me," the young man noted more as an after thought. He put the stick in his left hand, then held his right hand out as though he was holding a weapon. Just as his father had taught him, Alucard watched as a two handed sword materialized into the strangers' empty hand. "Here."

Alucard dropped down from his platform, eyeing the offered weapon with a trained critical eye. "What are you doing?"

"I'm giving you a weapon, you should be fine if you don't go to the Master Chambers. But the maids said that one of the vampires sired a Belmont so you should have something on you, just in case."

The sword was an Estoc, Alucard could tell that much, but the thought of Trevor being turned? "What do you mean by 'a vampire sired a Belmont'? How could that even have happened. Why entrust me, a stranger, with a weapon to defend myself with?"

The stranger tilted his head to the side, still holding the sword but raising it up a bit higher as though to remind Alucard to take it. "I'm staying out of that mess, so that's all I know, as for why I would just give you a weapon?" Alucard took the sword from the stranger as said person shrugged nonchalantly, "I do whatever I want."

The stranger began walking towards where the impaled victims of Dracula were left and though Alucard had no idea why the stranger would be walking 'there'... Well he was still curious.

"What is your name?"

The white haired young man looked over his fur covered shoulder at Alucard. "It's 'Soma', Soma Cruz. And yours?"

"Alucard."

Soma turned to look at Alucard fully, one pale eyebrow lifted up at the name before he tilted his head to the side. For a short span of time Soma held Alucard's gaze, but it was inward directed, as though Soma was trying to recall something from his own memory. But if he found something or not Alucard didn't know, just that Soma began to smile, "Dracula spelled backwards? Any particular reason?"

"I do whatever I want," Alucard echoed Soma's original reply calmly while lightning struck the earth behind Soma. A vortex of storm clouds, rain in the far distance, fires starting from lightning struck grass and there was Soma. Smiling a mysterious smile that grew into a quiet, amused laugh.

"Good answer, keep doing whatever you want."

'Thank the darkness, the Lord and young master seem to be getting along!' the maid thought as she peeked out from the doorway.