Pale

Chapter 9: The Fragments

Note: Well, this wraps up this story, hope I have done okay. Deep deep down, I believe D's character is kind and compassionate, so I hope I have shown that in a believable way. I make mention to a forthcoming volume of VHD, one I am very excited about. I'll ramble later. =)

"And I'd give all the world tonight, to be with you because I'm on your side, and I still care. I may have died, but I've gone nowhere." -I'll Be There, The Escape Club

Three Months Later

Well, well!" cried a rotund middle aged man as the very same traveler the town had been whispering about ducked through the minuscule door to his shop. "Vampire Hunter D here, in my potions shop!" the man laughed as though greeting an old friend.

D nodded and moved slowly across the dusty, rather ill stocked potions store, "Horace Ollivander." he nodded in a simple greeting.

"D, my good boy! It must have been 25 years since I have heard a mite from you, and look! You're just the same as…." Horace Ollivander paused, his voice caught painfully in his throat as the Hunter stepped fully into the light. The once glorious face he recalled beneath the Hunters immense hat and thick hair was gone, replaced with the mien of a middle aged, hardened man that was missing his left eye. "Oh my…what…what on Earth has happened to you?"

At this the Hunter answered in an almost amused tone, "You forget that I am half human, Horace."

The shopkeeper however shook his head, "Well yes…but…well my father and his father have all befriended you and aided you when you had need of magical help, and each one was marveled that you never aged a single day. Did…did you really lose your eye? Please just tell me that you're playing a cruel little joke on me?"

"I did." he answered, but disbelief still tinged the shop keeper face up until D lifted the eye patch to show the disconcerting wound. His flesh had healed neatly, but the gaping hole where the eye should have been, coupled with the jagged folds of skin that had once been eyelids, was quite horrific to the unsuspecting viewer. Horace jumped backward with a terrified gasp before he caught himself.

"Oh…I am sorry Mr. D. Sorry about what happened…"

"It doesn't matter. I lost that battle, but it gave me the upper ground in the war. Now, I have something to ask of you."

The shopkeeper stuttered, "Well, you know I have a quite a few magical eyes I could sell you! Some can even see through solid walls, although they do have a habit of moving about to their own will."

At this the shopkeeper could have sworn he'd heard a strange, muffled voice snickering at his words, followed by a mock, "Oh, please, we have to get one D!"

D however appeared to pay the strange voice no attention. It had not been the first time Horace had noticed this oddity about him. "I have need of a wand, Horace."

"A wand?" answered the shop keeper with pride coloring his face. "Well… I dare say you've come to the right man then. After all…my family has been making them for eons, yet I've sold only a mere hundred!" The rotund man beckoned D behind the counter, and into a small room that was cluttered with thousands of tiny, slender boxes. "I wish that for you I could just give you a wand for free, but business is terrible. I fear the age of the Wizards is long dead my friend. The only business I do these days are young lovers wanting love potions, or Muggles using the Orb of Thesulah as paperweights."

"Than it only is fair that I pay double the price." answered D distantly as he scanned the small room, seeking a box that caught his gaze. It land upon a battered golden colored one, he took the box and opened the lid. The wand inside was smooth, slender and pale.

"Ah, that's a fine wand right there. Yew. 13 inches. Crow feather core. An excellent wand for complex spells, alchemy, and well suited to those of Nobel blood."

D nodded his approval as he took the wand into his right hand, a flood of warmth coursed up his arm and as he gave the wand a slight wave, a shower of multicolored sparks emitted from the tip. He pressed a bag full of golden coins into the rotund wizard's hand.

Dumbfounded by the amount he received, Horace stuttered as he spoke next. "Tha…thank you kindly! Might I ask what need does the greatest dhampir and greatest Vampire Hunter…all in all the savior of mankind…need with an ordinary wand?"

"Insurance" D answered vaguely, "Besides, while magic may run within my bloodline, I must be able to focus it, and that's where this wand comes in use." He touched his hand to the brim of his hat, nodding his thanks and goodbye to the shop keeper, and then without another word he turned away.

D paused before he entered the cyclopean ruins towering before him; behind him was a treacherous drop, in which it seemed like all the land of the Earth was sprawled below. D turned toward the dizzying precipice, and pushed back the brim of his hat and glared down at the scene.

His eye could see even the faint ribbon of an unpaved road far below the mountain shelf he was now standing at. And on that dull grey line he could see the shape of a pale skinned woman. The filmy white dress she wore, and the way the wind tossed her russet colored hair made her identity unmistakable. Asenath was following him still.

"Damn…I gotta hand it to that girl; she's not one to give up easily." Rose a familiar voice.

D nodded in a faint agreement. The girl's strength and powers were truly formidable to have followed him into this forgotten land. The verdant, yet empty land D had journeyed to shortly after attaining his wand was a land once known by the name of Lemuria. Several times in the course history it had been a prosperous land that brimmed with culture and sophistication, often times the race that rose to rule it was highly scientifically and magically advanced. But the last time the land had thrived it had been put to a violent end after the OSB's, the Outer Space Beings, had lain waste to the land. As a final resort the Lemurians had erected barrier of magic that sealed it from the eyes of all living things. Yet the Lemurian's had been on excellent terms with the Nobility, and thus granted the Sacred Ancestor and all those of his bloodline, access to the sacred land.

Naturally D had passed through the barrier with ease, yet Asenath, while cursed with Dracula's disease, was not of blood relation to him. She should have been driven to madness in trying to cross, yet it was obvious from her swift pace that she was of sound mind. Perhaps there was something more than what met the eye about the pathetic girl.

Yet he did not give the matter any more thought than that as he turned and passed through the ruins of most stunning of Lemuria's temples. It was perched high within a sky piercing mountain peak, and carved with painstaking detail from the mountains own stone. There was the faint aroma of incense as D stepped within the sprawling temple, it told him that a few of the Lemurian's must have lingered, but he felt no concern for himself. His father had, after all, been their greatest ally.

He lit the guttered remains of candles that where scattered about the temple, as well as a few cones of incense so that soon the temple had regained it's ethereal air. He glanced at the sprawling marble altar laid out before him and then up at the vast gathering of statues that loomed before him. There were twelve Gods and Goddesses in all, some of them possessing features more like animals, while others features that where not of this world at all. The Lemurian's had worshiped any God they chose; these had merely been the most popular. From the center of the gathering of Gods the sternest marble face bore down at the altar, despite the harsh expression of the Gods face it also reflected an expression of infinite wisdom. It was Odin, the one eyed ancient God of the Norse. His face mirrored D's.

D removed the sword from his back, and laid it respectfully down on the floor along with all the other weapons he wore about his form. He than removed his hat, his coat and his cape, but he pulled two things from the numerous pockets of his coat; the first was a long, slender knife that did not have any sort of adornments. The second was the wand he'd bought from the wizard. These two objects he laid down upon the altar.

He wore an undeniable expression of apprehension as he regarded the altar and once again the statue of Odin.

"Oh I know what your thinking." piped up a hoarse little voice. "You're lookin up at Ol' One Eye with his unfathomable wisdom and your thinking "Is this a good idea? Surely you must know." the voice gave a half laugh, " Sure…as usual you'll search for help in the most ridiculous places, I mean now your even asking Gods for help. You don't care a wink about what your right hand…err…left hand man has to think about all this! Because I think this is quite possibly the worst idea you've ever had! Worst than crossing through a hoard of Sandmantas on a horse!"

"Shut up. It's not going to be your Horcrux; therefore I have no need of your opinion." D answered sternly, as he made to remove the golden ring on his left hand.

At this the hand appeared to draw backward with a will of its own. "Hold up a second there! We had an agreement goddamn it. Now I know you have a grand purpose in life, and all that Nobel bullshit, but I am just here to enjoy being alive. I thought we agreed that if I am to fall in battle then to just leave me be. If you go and place a portion of your soul in something to insure your immortality than what's stopping me from being restored right with you! We've been connected since birth, D!"

D clinched his left hand, again regaining mastery over it. "I thought that we agreed that unless it is necessary you're never to overpower my hand." his voice was low, and dangerous. "You recall when the doppelganger of myself was formed with magic. He possessed everything about me, although he chose to exhibit personality traits I'd rather hide. He had everything…except for you. He was me down to the cellular level, and you were missing. I think you've got nothing to worry about." Now, his hand obedient, he pulled the thin wedding ring from his finger and laid it down onto the altar.

"Than…at least remind me once again why you think this is such a good idea?"

The annoyance within D's voice was certainly intimidating, "We've been through this. I can see anytime that I wish into his thoughts, I can see all that he's planning on doing, all the traps he's laid for me. Therefore insuring that I cannot die is only the logical course of action. I must insure that I will survive long enough to destroy him should he prove clever enough to outwit me."

With this the symbiote sighed dejectedly, "I see…making sure that two immortals can fight it out until the earth dies beneath you. Fine then, do as you like Pretty Boy."

"I believe that I explicitly asked to stop calling me that."

"Oh right…okay. Fine, do as you like, Patchy" the hand apologized snidely.

D made no further remark as he unbuttoned his faded and many times mended black shirt and removed it. He paused as he felt the cool metal of the sapphire pendant he wore against his chest, and, in a swift, decided movement he removed the pendant as well and placed it on the altar.

"WOAH! Wait a second now!" Lefty piped up wildly, again moving D's hand to its own accord to face the Hunter. "One horcrux! That's what we've decided! You told me you were only doing the ring, and I told you that's ridiculously obvious. You're making the same mistake Lord Voldemort did. If you wanna do this wisely, make the vessel something plain. Make your damn hat one! Here you go and making them out of the two things Dracula knows you cannot bear to part with. You're a sitting duck!"

With an impatient sigh the Hunter answered the hoarse voice, "No, my father is making the same mistake that Lord Voldemort did. He underestimates me, the same way that Voldemort underestimated Harry Potter. You forget, I can see him, constantly. I have yet to discover a corner of his mind that is barred from my sight. He's been expecting me to make a Horcrux of my own for a while now. He knows my thirst for revenge rivals his. But he thinks I will only have the nerve to make a single one, my mother's pendant. It's been in my possession for millennia, it an obvious symbol for myself and its only natural that I use it first. He's certain the physical pain and mortal agony of tearing fragments of my soul from my body will cripple me. I may take years to heal from it. I am half human after all. He's set all hope on that fact. He'll use all his resources to find where I am resting. That is his greatest weakness. My father sets far too much stock into dreams, he's so confidant in his power to set fate to his terms but that he never factors in change.

So I'll change the plan. I'll have two horcruxes rather than just one. The ring I took from Luna's finger is more precious to me than the necklace. At some point I expect him to take the necklace from me, and to destroy it. Although I cannot predict what strength this ritual will take from me, of this much I am certain. The necklace is a decoy."

"Well…whose to say if this will even work. All the literature we found on the subject of horcruxes implied that you had to have just killed someone for it work. Well, you haven't."

"I believe I have killed enough in my life for the requirements to be vivid enough." D answered gelidly, his tone cutting off any further conversation.

He picked up the ornate dagger, and pressed it against his abdomen. He cast a final glance upward toward the statue of Odin, perhaps seeking some token of strength until he closed his remaining eye and pulled the dagger across his skin. He distanced himself wholly from the sharp pain, and rather meditated upon his past. It was a past that lay drenched in blood and gore. The first memory the returned to his consciousness was the plain, but enraptured face of the first girl, the first human whose blood he'd ever tasted. The frantic drumming of his heart as he drank of her, the way his head swam as the decadent taste filled his mouth was more than vivid enough for D to push aside the gnawing pain of the ritual dagger than was now tearing into muscle. The memory was torn aside and filled with another, the intensity of its presence threatened to rend D's skull. He saw his father as clearly as if he'd been standing before him; saw his father as he'd seen him the first time at the age of 14.

The moment he'd laid eyes on Dracula's face, a face as pale, and refined as his own, he'd known that he hated him. The moment he spoke, his elegant voice like poisoned honey, he'd know that this had been the source of the voice D had loathed even in the womb. D had watched his mother struggle not to be crushed by ever pressing sorrow every day of his life watched her live in constant fear. This man had been the reason for her suffering. He knew it as certain as he knew that he was meant to strike out, to tear down, to kill this man standing before him, claiming to be his father.

In the instant he laid eyes upon him, D had sworn, deep within a heart he'd learned to keep suppressed for Mina's sake, to kill this man.

D's body was now quaking in protest of his actions, but he forced his hand to remain steady and burrow deeper and deeper into his body. They weren't the precise cuts Dracula had used to rip his soul free, but were wild, and jagged. It was clear that the ritual was already having a far more noticeable effect on the Hunter, as blood was pouring from his lips.

D found himself looking upon a large field strewn with the remains of battle. Blood had died the earth crimson, organs and brain matter dotted the field the way rocks should have, and intestines were strewn across the sad remains of battered chariots. D stood alone in the field…save for the thunderous roars of approval that bellowed from the crowd around him. D had been the only remaining gladiator in a group of a hundred. Coolly he turned his helmeted face up from the carnage he'd brought forth, and into the pale, gleeful faces of the crowd. For a fleeting moment the gaze of a beauty whose face was framed with flame red hair caught his eyes, but he swiftly moved on. He sought only one pale face amongst the crowd, the same he'd imagined upon the faces of those he'd just slaughtered.

D felt the jagged pain of the knife as it began to sever his small intestine, he cried out once, blood flowing faster from his mouth, but he did not fail to again grasp the flow of memories he needed to live through. They came in sporadic bursts now, flashes that D could hardly process. There were more glimpses of devastating carnage, of vampires as they crumbled into ash before his eyes, their last expression one of hatred as they regarded D's beautiful, impassive face. Again he recalled Elena's face as his sword plunged into her breast, the agony in her downward turned eyes. He saw Lina's tear filled eyes, before she crumbled into sparkling ash. Myriad more images flashed through him, until at last a single image stood stone still.

It was Mina. Her white gown fluttered out behind her as she gazed almost rapturously down as the drop below her. Blood was flowing freely from her wrists.

And in the next moment she was falling, the wild tread of the Arges River rushing up to met her, and D as well. He heard his mother terrified scream, his father agonized wails, but D did not dare scream. Now more than ever his mother needed his bravery to rely upon. Not only had his true nature as a dhampir unlike any other surfaced on that night, but this moment was also the moment his willing exile began. His bravery had failed him when he'd last held his mother in his arms however, yet even in death she'd pleaded for his strength.

"Mother…"

"D…" she whimpered. There was no madness in her eyes now, only paramount pain and regret.

"I am sorry Mother…" even D did not believe that painful lump in his throat that made it so hard for him to speak, that summoned a sob from his rigid voice. Had he ever before cried? Mina had once told him he'd never even cried as a child.

"I didn't mean…I never…I didn't know what to do once I came here… I couldn't control…" a million excuses came to his mind but none of them could justify the way he'd tormented her these past few years. The way he'd destroyed the only person he'd ever loved. It must have been true what the humans screamed in their rebellion, slavery and death throes…perhaps the vampire race truly was damned. Fated to destroy all they touched and cared for. The first tears to have ever touched his cheeks began to slip down the side of D's face; they were as crimson as the blood that stained Mina's gown.

Mina's wavering eyes caught her son's, and she managed to speak softly, "Don't cry D, not for me."

"Mother…" he only sobbed all the harder and gently cradled her closer. The sobs had taken him captive now and were wrenched painfully from him. He was distantly aware of the fact that he hated the involuntary grip of this emotional attack, the way it stung his eyes and twisted his face, but more so than anything else he was aware of the dreadful thumping of his heart and the knowledge that this would be the last time he would ever look upon his mother's face. Soon he would have to commit her to the cold Earth, and abandon her to rot and crumble into dust. He wished desperately that he could silence those terrible cries that welled every so often from her lips, to stanch the flow of her blood that was carrying the life from her even swifter but there could be no hope for her now…not if she was resistant to the cursed blood. Only one thing would silence those cries.

"I never wanted any of this D…I never wanted to fall in love with the night. I never wanted to raise its child." Her voice was barley understood even to D's keen ears. "But I did. I love you still. Will you promise me to fight the darkness wherever you see it? There are so many like me that cannot dream because of the shadows…will you give them a chance?"

Presently, D's body seemed to be convulsing even as he rammed the knife deeper within himself. Yet his face was a mask of intense concentration, but he was close, of that much he was certain. Physically he could feel nothing but organs within the savaged hole in his flesh, but deep within his psyche he knew the feeling of warmth that spread through his aching flesh meant that his soul must be near. Another image materialized before his consciousness, an image that had plagued both his nightmares and his waking thoughts for 2,000 years.

Her eyes were curiously glazed now, as though she were not seeing the physical world, but one of dreams, one hidden from the eyes of the living. "D…" she whimpered, and her tremulous hand rose and clumsily caressed his cheek than fell leadenly back down to the ground. D knew it had not been him she'd been intending to caress; she'd seen it, that wretched archway between the living and the dead and pulled back the veil. The rest of her words never left her lips, her eyes remained wide horror filled glass marbles and terror transfixed her face forever. She did not move again.

For a moment or two D remained in utter disbelief, staring at the appalling corpse of his wife. He felt it soon enough, a strange snapping within his heart as though it had been released from mystical binds, but it was not a liberating sensation, it was deep and aching one. The Heart Bind had been snapped forever. His gorgeous face knitted with pain and he bowed his head no longer daring to hold back his sobs, he tears flowing like rivulets of blood down his face and down onto Luna. His lips ached as he kissed her cold flesh, as though trying to coax her back into life, and his fingers trembled as he smoothed back her hair. "Come back…come back…come back, Luna. I need you." He wasn't even aware as he said the words; he knew nothing but the rending pain in his heart. Each treacherous throb brought the pain closer and closer, bright and brighter. He couldn't draw in breath. His tears felt like shards of glass.

Amidst the torrent of sorrow a simple thought rose into D's mind, I've killed everyone I've touched, especially the ones I loved the most. Finally his remaining eye flew open, and the gore strained dagger slipped from his grasp. He felt it, that glowing albeit fragmented orb of light resisting deep within his abdomen. His soul.

He reached out with his right hand, yet his limbs still quaked uncontrollably. It wasn't clear if this was a product of his tremendous blood loss or his body protesting against this horrific act, but he found his arms quite useless.

The was a strange sigh from his left side, "Goddamn it!" the voice hissed, "I hope your happy!" the voice grumbled as the hand rose upward by its own accord, and moved toward the blood soaked altar. It curled around the wand that D had apparently been seeking. D willingly allowed the symboite to take full control of his left arm, as it pointed the wand at his ghastly wound.

D spoke, his words the same guttural, alien words that Dracula had spoken eons ago. A thread of light arched from the wound and onto the tip of the wand, the ectoplasmic thread shimmered a brilliant silver. The Left Hand moved the wand down onto the first object, the golden ring. The ring eagerly drank in the silver light; its own form seemed to glow brighter, to soak up the blood that had showered it, before the light faded. Visibly the jewelry looked no different, yet any that touched object would have been held enraptured, and frightened. This ring contained the very essence of a soul crueler than an arctic blizzard, but more enchanting that the moonlight.

D himself had stagger as the fragment was pulled free, his muscles quaking in protest, yet his face showed no emotion as he stared down at the object containing a fragment of his own soul. Next, out of his strength he returned the wand to his midsection and once again, spoke in horrific words and pulled free another shimmering fragment of his soul. Again his body trembled in protest, yet he forced his hand to obey all the same. The pendant his mother had once wore glowed just as the wedding band had, soaking up the blood D had spilled, devouring his essence until it to returned to it's original state.

D groaned lowly and collapsed onto his knees once the horcrux had been completed. Weakly he clutched at the horrific hole he'd torn within himself, and he glanced in wild vain at the pool of blood that he knelt within. His skin seemed translucently pale, the veins standing out in grim contrast. In desperation D lay down onto the ground and began to lap at the blood. He did not appear in any way human, his remaining eye glowed blindingly, and his tongue appeared much too long and pointed to be considered human as he consumed his own life force. Soon however a tinge of color returned to his skin and after hungrily sucking the blood from his fingers he pulled himself up, using the altar for support. The Hunter had easily lost three times the amount of blood that would have proved dire for a Nobel, yet his body trembled only the slightest as he grasped the thrumming fragments of his soul and walked away.

The east exit of the temple lead to a vast, whimsical garden, and it was here that D exited. At first sight the garden appeared choked with weeds, and dead brush, but D's trained eye knew well that had it been night this garden would have bloomed into prismatic scene of beauty. Within the center of the garden meant for the moonlight stood a tall, tired fountain that was still in working order. Yet it was not water that spilled from its form, but a thick river of human blood.

D appeared to stumble slightly as he rushed to the fountain, and wildly he thrust his cupped hands into crimson life-force, and drank from them. On closer inspection D spied a ring of stone goblets across the surface of the fountain, and with a wry smile he took one of the goblets and filled it to the brim. Again and again he drank his fill, and it came as little surprise that as he did so the gaping wound his to midsection began to knit itself together, until only his well toned flesh remained.

Blood founts had been rather rare in the age of the Nobility of course, only the most wealthy of vampires could afford them. The complicated machinery could produce an infinite supply of blood from a limited supply of lives, but the cost of buying the one million young humans needed for the blood to never cease flowing was astronomical. That had been the most value humanity had had in the Nobel age, cattle to be sold for blood. Lemuria however had procured one as welcoming gift for the Nobility, and set it in the night blooming garden D now stood within. It had not been mere chance D had come to this temple to sunder his soul. He'd chosen it for the vast power the land itself carried, and he'd chosen it for blood fount as well. As repulsive as he found the idea of drinking human blood from an ancient fountain, he knew he might not have a choice if the ritual left him weak. Indeed it seemed there was no weakness about his form when he at last set the goblet down. In a pensive movement D inclined his face into the sky, the sun was swiftly making its way to the horizon.

He'd intended to leave the moment he'd healed, yet curiously enough he felt like staying, perhaps merely just to watch the garden bloom. Why not rest for a moment? D found he did not entirely care for the idea, yet he stayed all the same and lay back against a crumbled stone pillar. In time he allowed his remaining eye to close. He was weary of course, the ritual had left him terribly weak, yet when he opened his eye again it was evident only a few hours had past, as the moon hung in a sky tinged with the smallest ray of dying sunlight. Strength was flowing through him just as it was in the grotesque fountain before him.

D had almost finished packing his horse we he spotted a brief, pale flash within the night.

He narrowed his eye; it appeared that Asenath was only feet from where he was standing outside the temple. This was a bold move for her; normally she remained lurking within the shadows to feed her obsession of him. Perhaps she wished to speak to him. Sure enough the girl stepped, trembling slightly into the moonlight and fully within D's sight.

Nobel blood had improved her dull features slightly, there was a hint of a sparkle to her eyes, and her skin glowed with the same pale light as D's yet the scar that marred her lips remained. She still had the starved, crazed appearance she had in life, yet she must have submitted to bloodlust as some point, because there was a distinctive flush to her skin. She was clutching a dark bundle of cloth to her breast. "D…" she murmured, her head was hung so low that she seemed to be bowing in submission of him. "I have to speak to you, at least one more time."

He regarded her coolly, " I've known you've been following me the whole time once again. How is it that you can move about in the sunlight?"

Asenath merely shrugged "How should I know? I was resistant to changing into a Nobel the whole time I was with R…Renfield. Maybe my body just didn't want to give up the sunlight, your father said himself that he doesn't fully understand my ability. But my ability is how I have always been able to find you. Anyone I have ever needed to find, all I needed to do was ask the ghosts local to the area where they have gone, and what they were doing."

He nodded as though faintly interested in the matter, "What is it that you want?"

"I know that you'll never be able to forgive me, and that's okay. I won't ask from forgiveness from you anymore, I think I have a clear understanding of you now. You're not the hero that I wanted to save me in my past life and in this one, but I can accept that now. But I still want to help you D…in any way I can. I don't understand why I can't just leave you be…it's like the moment I saw you I was enslaved…You don't ever need to pay me any attention but I just cannot help but to follow you. Maybe one day I'll find something more to do with this Dark Gift that I never wished for, but until then I will be your shadow. I love you D, more than I can bear. And it's because I love you that I am here, that I am giving you this..."

Asenath pulled back the dark bundle of cloth to reveal a snowy White Mountain rabbit, it looked quite young but strong enough to struggle against the circle of her arms, however the rabbit did not.

D frowned, uncertain what she meant by this offering. Did she mean for him to take this rabbit as sustenance or as a companion? D turned from her, "I am not hungry, nor am I able to care for an animal."

"Just hold her, please!" Asenath cried out, moving to thrust the tiny animal at D. "You have to do this to understand this gift."

D's expression was positively disgusted and he sighed as he reached out and took the creature from her arms. Rabbits were naturally panicky creatures, and easily startled, even domesticated rabbits would struggle the first few times they were picked up by a stranger, and yet this rabbit did not struggle in the least. She went willingly into D's embrace, placing her paws against his chest and sniffing eagerly at him, her ears erect. It seemed as if this rabbit had been expecting his touch, had been awaiting it. Looking into the rabbits black eyes D felt a curious, tugging sensation at his heart. A wave of utter familiarity, of content and simply belonging swept over D as he stared down at the rabbit. That creature simply belonged in his embrace, dependant on his care of her, and in return he would be utterly deserving of the love and companionship she would lavish on him. D simply could not deny the softness, the familiarity of the moment…it was as if he were once again looking at the face of the one which he'd loved the most. True it was a completely different face, within a completely different body, and the surge of tenderness that flooded D was a far cry from passion but all the same, the feeling was undeniable. As unshakable as the name that issued from his lips.

"Luna?" he whispered.

Asenath was beaming, now her face didn't look especially flawed at all. "I can remember everything that happens when another takes my body. While she was healing you she has a conversation with…well…your hand, and…uh…it told her that she wasn't using her full potential to aid you through life. It said what you needed most was to love and to be loved…so it appears that she's reincarnated to be with you again."

D pressed the rabbits head to his chest, laying his cheek upon it. For a moment the Hunter looked innocent, almost vulnerable. Already his belief was unshakeable …he was simply compelled to believe. He kneaded his fingers through her fur; it was almost as soft as her hair had been so long ago. It wasn't exactly the reunion he'd longed for, but he'd take it gratefully all the same. He turned his face from Asenath least the sting in his eyes threatened to grow into bloody tears.

"She doesn't remember much of course, nobody does when they reincarnate. They just have firm emotions and reactions tied to their past lives. I didn't even understand why I was so enamored with you, fascinated with white roses and resistant to the Nobility until Dracula showed me I was once Elena. She knows she wasn't meant to be a wild rabbit, and she knew to come to me to find you. She knows you're where she belongs."

Asenath's undead heart gave a convulsive little throb; it was so wonderful to have witnessed the transformation that had overtaken D in these past few moments. There was life in his obsidian eye, an almost joyous smile on his face, and from the firm way he grasped the rabbit to his chest it was evident that he'd already accepted her into his life.

"I can't care for a rabbit." he said, his voice suddenly anxious, "I had a kitten when I was young that I killed when I got hungry, the cats I had when I tried to deny my calling got impaled and I have killed every horse I have ever touched. And I have killed countless rabbits for substance, and target practice."

"Don't worry, I have faith you'll know how to care for her. I think that's the next lesson you need to learn. Learn to love, you know." Asenath smiled sheepishly.

D said nothing as he looked down to the snowy white rabbit in his arms that still regarded him so curiously, obviously deeming him worthy of her trust. Normally animals would run fleeing in terror from anywhere D was near.

Asenath turned around to leave.

"Wait." he called after her, "I received a letter yesterday from the village of Pantego, there is a Nobel there that wished me to kill him. I am leaving in an hour, you can ride with me if you wish and from there you can do as you like."

Now Asenath was radiant, "I'll go with you."

D stood at the edge of the great precipice, looking down at the thousand…perhaps hundred thousand foot drop that sprawled out before him. Land was merely a dark and hazy memory at the bottom, with vague notions of trees and rocky spires. Asenath sat nearby on a large boulder watching the scene with a silent expression of pride. Luna, newly rechristened Snow White was nibbling furiously at the leather of D's boots.

He held two objects within his hands and he regarded them with only a momentarily glance of disgust before he cast them out over the precipice. A glint of metal caught the moonlight before the Resurrection Stone submitted to the force of gravity and crashed onto the unseen ground below, the obsidian at last smashing into useless, jagged points of rock. The second object gleamed with a glassy shimmer in the moonlight before it too fell and was reduced to dust on the ground, a clear liquid trickled out onto the rocks. It had been the last of D's self concocted addiction. He could just discern the outline of the two objects that had turn these past few months into utter agony, and although he knew it would take much longer to fully erase the pain they'd caused him, now he had no choice but to just forget them and allowed the fragmented remains of his soul to heal.

As he turned away Snow White shot away from him like a streak of white light to scamper into a narrow fissure of rock below where Asenath sat, daring D to come and chase her. He sighed as he rushed to retrieve the rabbit; already the notion that he could not simply leave her behind had taken firm hold of him. The girl stood and deftly bent to retrieve the white rabbit from the furrow and held her out for D. He took her carefully, nodding his thanks.

Asenath caught his eye then, her face again beautiful with the happiness that now animated her. D was well aware that it would be an arduous path to adjust to the changes his life had taken on, to accept the bitter reality that had come crushing down on him but now he would not be alone. Once again he had the one he loved most, and looking at Asenath's now lovely face he knew that he would have her friendship and companionship as well. "I forgive you." he spoke softly.

Naturally she heard his soft words with rapt ears and, quite understandable she leapt up and threw her arms around his neck. "I forgive you too, D!"

He would not have felt compelled to return the embrace even if he weren't holding Snow White in his arms, but he allowed her to cling to him for as long as she wished. When she withdrew D stepped toward his cyborg horse, and gently set Snow White onto the little harness he'd fashioned for her on the horse's neck. The rabbit did not protest this in the least. He mounted the horse and then held his hand out to Asenath. 'Let's go."

Eagerly the girl took his hand.

The End

Hope you liked it! The fourth and final part Dawn of Eternity will likely be up in a few weeks. Most of that is already written down inside my head, and I am excited to see it down on paper, but it still needs some hashing out. I think I accomplished what I wanted with this fic, I tore D down completely to see all that he's really made of.

Dawn of Eternity will bring an end to everything. Originally I only intended to write just one D fan fiction, I am not sure at what point I knew this had to be a saga. At first I didn't want to write an end to it all, because soon or later Kikuchi will take care of that, and I will have been dead wrong about what happened. But….that sadly might take many years. I guess any fan fiction writer with a vivid enough imagination feels that the character they are writing about, but didn't create, is in some small way, their own. I have come to know D as well as I know myself (actually, I think I know him better.) the thought of not ending his story as seen through my eyes is almost blasphemous.

So to my faithful readers, keep your eyes peeled! And make a wish for me….that I get Pale Fallen Angel Part 3 and 4 very soon!! It is out…and I don't have it. *cries*

Your faithful D freak,

Sarah