Disclaimer: I do not own HunterxHunter, nor do I profit commercially from these writings.

Lucian's Story Part 11

FATHER

Lucian sat on the cold ground with his back leaning against a slab of stone that had been part of the floor. Around him was the pieces of stones and woods, large and small, warded off by a Nen barrier that prevented him from being crushed to death when the whole compound fell on him. The Nen barrier hummed with power, and its glow provided minimum illumination that was barely enough for him to study the girl in his arms with his one unscathed eye.

"Bia…" He whispered with hoarse voice, as a charred hand gingerly stroke her blood-stained hair. The trembling of his hand wasn't because of the pain—he couldn't even feel anything anymore—but more of the fear for her.

Bia was cloaked in a golden glow, and she lay motionless in his lap and arms. There was no breathing, no beating of heart. Her blood had stopped flowing from her torn throat, and the blood had stopped trailing down her pale skin. She lay there like a doll, unmoving and lifeless.

"Prințesă... De ce sa întâmplat asta? (Princess...Why did this happen to you…?)"

But she lived still. She was alive, but her time was frozen. The golden glow that shrouded her like a cocoon shielded her from the flowing time of the universe, sealing her away from the hands of Time. The only reason why Lucian could touch her without any effects on himself and her was because he was the one who had frozen her time.

With his Nen.

If there was one thing that Kurapika and the kids—and everyone else but Kuroro—never knew about Lucian, it was Lucian's Nen. Lucian never used his Nen. In his 'life' as an undead so far, there were only very few occasions when he had been forced to use his Nen, and one of those time was when he had used it to save Kuroro Lucifer's life, so many years ago in the earlier beginning of their friendship. Of course, he had made Kuroro swear to never tell anyone about his Nen.

Lucian's kind had made it a point to give the world the impression that vampires did not possess Nen like living humans, and for good reasons. Vampires were undead; neither alive nor dead. They were indeed alive in the practical sense of the word, but technically they were living in a frozen time. Because of that, vampires couldn't indefinitely reproduce Nen like humans could. Their Nen reserves were limited. Contrary to its effect on their human counterparts when harnessed, using Nen excessively could kill a vampire. It was a vampire's life, even more precious than a vampire's blood. The more Nen they used, the shorter their life would be.

"Îmi pare rău… (I'm so sorry…)" He whispered to her.

Lucian was no idiot, contrary to popular belief. He knew why Bia had been butchered like an animal. That gypsy woman—Madame Sforza the tarot-reader, a little voice in the back of his mind reminded him—had spilled Bia's blood with the intention of getting him to drink her blood. She was a sacrificial lamb. He had also seen the mark on Bia's neck; it was the mark used in tovarăș ritual. Madame Sforza had wanted to make Bia his tovarăș (Lucian had been so distraught about Bia that he didn't realise that a simple tarot-reader shouldn't know about the tovarăș ritual).

But he couldn't do that.

She is yours… The little voice in the back of his mind—his inner demon—whispered to him.

He wouldn't...

Her blood is calling to you...

Not his curse on her…

Yours...

"Why the hesitation, puiule?"

Lucian froze. He'd know that voice anywhere, and only one person called him that. Puiule, the term of endearment for children in his native language. He used to hate it when he called him that because it was just embarrassing. But now... Lucian looked up and was amazed to see the figure cloaked in darkness standing at a respectful distance.

"Old man." He breathed out with his cracked voice.

How did his Sire reach this place without digging—oh right. His Nen. His spatial manipulation Nen ability that could bend dimensions and split his spatial awareness into different points in different dimensions, which would allow him to be in different places at the same time. The manifestation of the word 'ubiquitous'.

Very few vampires were actually capable of creating an ability out of their Nen. In fact, very few of vampires knew anything beyond very extensive use of Ten, containing all of their Nen in their bodies without a single leak for survival. Personally, Lucian only knew of five vampires who knew how to manipulate Nen beyond Ten; his Sire and his butler, his dear aunt Countess Báthory and her Head Maid, and himself.

So he knew how his Sire was here, but it didn't explain why he was here.

"She is one breath away from Death." His Sire said quietly, as if not to disturb the air. "You can't freeze her time for much longer. You will die, and so will she."

Lucian wanted to snarl at his Sire for stating the obvious, but he couldn't even find the energy to do so. Lucian envied his Sire; one of the reasons why the man was THE Count was because of his insane reserve of Nen as a vampire. Hundred and thousands of years of living as an undead, and his Nen reserve was still greater than many vampires' combined. Lucian benefitted from this as he inherited the same kind of insane Nen reserve—a vampire fledgling inherited its Sire's Nen traits—but he bitterly thought that his Sire would probably outlive all vampires in the world, including himself. He would probably get to see the end of the world.

"Do you know why you are very lucid and aware right now, although you have lost too much blood to be functioning properly?" His Sire asked with soft voice. His Sire's voice had always been soft and velvety, ancient and knowing.

Lucian had wondered about it. He was supposed to be a mindless beast by now, so why wasn't he?

"Because she is here."

She is yours...

"...What?"

"She drank your blood, Lucian. Your blood is inside her, sustaining you, even as it is destroying her from inside out."

Lucian paled at that. Vampire blood was lethal poison for human bodies, especially when digested. Only tovarăș could consume vampire blood without dire consequences to their health and life, and that was only the blood of their vampire companion and no other else. But when did Bia—

"She consumed your blood by accident when you were attacked by the Crusaders."

And Lucian remembered. Like a slap across his face, Lucian remembered. Blood dripping down pale face. Purplish red on white. Beautiful...

"If you were to die now, she would follow you to death soon."

"I just need to give her my blood. Then she'll be okay!" Lucian countered desperately. Yes! A human poisoned by vampire's blood could be cured by the same vampire's blood.

"Under normal circumstances, yes. In her case, no. She is too far gone. The poison is already too deep inside her. Too much of it, and left untreated for too long." The Count eyed the white-haired girl in Lucian's eyes critically. "It is a wonder that she has survived this long."

Lucian sagged painfully to the stone behind him, his face looking down at Bia in his arms. She looked so peaceful, like she wasn't dying and was merely sleeping.

"I'm killing her..." The one he tried so hard to save. He was killing her with his blood. His damned blood.

"You have four options, Lucian." The Count said at length, with soft voice. "I could turn her into a strigoi (vampire) myself, if you so wish. Or you could drink my blood to recover yourself and then turn her into a strigoi yourself. Or you can turn her into a tovarăș, which you can do without consuming my blood. Her part in the tovarăș ritual has been completed; the mark on her neck is proof. Or you can condemn her to death."

At this point, Lucian was staring at his Sire with scandalised eye.

"You must decide." The Count continued, ignoring the glares that he was receiving from his fledgling. "The choice is yours. Her fate is in your hands."

She is yours...

"It's a cursed life." Lucian spat.

"Is it? Curse or not, it is a matter of perspective." When Lucian didn't say anything, the Count spoke again. "So you will abandon her to Death? She is still so young, still have so much ahead of her. Will you deny her that? If not for your sake, at least do it for her sake. And Kuroro Lucifer's."

"He will hate me for it." Lucian said it with so much conviction that the Count found it ridiculous.

"If he is half the person you've told me about, then he will understand."

"Kurapika will kill me…"

The Count tilted his head sideways slightly.

"She would rather have her daughter dead than being given a second chance?"

"A twisted second chance." Lucian closed his eyes, scarred face scrunched into a look of pain and regret.

"But she will not be alone."

Lucian opened his mouth to refute his Sire, but found that he had nothing.

She is yours… And you are hers… The voice in his mind; his demon, whispered to him.

"She will have you by her side." The Count said again, voice softer. "And you will have her by your side."

As we had our Sire with us always when we were a fledgling... but we rejected him... His demon murmured quietly within his mind, echoing his own thoughts.

A quiet rustle of cloth told Lucian that his Sire was moving from his spot, closer to him. However, Lucian didn't expect to feel a warm touch to his forehead. In his surprise, Lucian looked up to find his one eye meeting his Sire's pale grey ones at his eye level. Smooth delicate fingers were touching Lucian's feverish forehead, and Lucian could feel the faint thrum of his Sire's power radiating from the tips of those fingers; gentle yet lethal. Lucian watched with awe and amazement as his Sire—his great Sire who always seemed larger than life—had lowered himself to his knees and proceeded to press his cheek to Lucian's.

"Dăinui (live/endure/survive), puiule…" His Sire whispered. "For my sake and your dam's, live."

Lucian almost cried. His Sire almost never initiated physical contact, expressing most of his strange affection through his words and favours. He certainly never heard his Sire sounding so emotional, voice on the verge of cracking. It made his Sire seemed so...achingly human.

When his Sire drew back, Lucian almost reached out to him, already missing the contact. He missed it. Those gestures of affection, he had felt them so long ago. His memories of his human days were dusty and faded, but he now remembered those warm ones. With embraces and kisses. Of gentle caresses and soft laughter. Of his Sire and...someone else.

Lucian blinked. Who was that? The person standing next to his Sire. Who was that?

"Tătic (dad)... Cine este asta (who is that)?" Lucian asked his Sire, eyes still distant.

Lucian hadn't realised that he had reverted to his juvenile way of calling his Sire. The way he had called his Sire when he was still a human child, when his Sire was not yet his Sire. Just his father. His daddy.

So distracted he was by the vague image of that mysterious person in his foggy memory and his Sire's words that Lucian didn't even notice when the air wavered and the Count fading into nothingness with a wistful look on his face. Regret and misery. Longing and wishful thinking.

Tears dropped ceaselessly into the water bowl that she was using for scrying, the water bowl created by her Nen that was connected to the barrier that she had erected around her darling little prince. It didn't bother her that her tears were disturbing the image that the water was reflecting for her; the image of her son trapped under the earth with the white-haired girl in his arms. She was too distraught to even care about the silly water.

Longing and regret. Misery and wishful thinking.

With trembling hands, Madame Sforza skimmed the surface of the water delicately. Touching but not touching.

"Domnul meu (my lord)... Iubitul meu (my beloved), scumpul meu (my precious)..." She whispered, voice strained and tears dripping into the water. "Mi-e dor de tine (I miss you)... "

She had missed him. Terribly so. How many hundreds of years had it been since the last time she had seen him? The love of her life, her other half.

"Ce ma fac eu fara tine...? (what am I doing without you?)" She sobbed.

Lucian. For Lucian. She was doing this for Lucian. Her dear, dear little prince. But if only she had him by her side… Then it would have been less lonely. Less painful.

"Dragostea meu, te voi întâlni din nou? (My love, will I meet you again?)" She whispered to the water, heart in her throat.

She wished, and she prayed. Her tears kept falling, even as she pressed her hands to her face to stop the torrent. But the tears kept falling.

She wished and prayed. She had wished for a lot of things.

But wishes and prayers were not always answered, and wishful thinking never got her anywhere.

"For my sake and your dam's, live."

Lucian couldn't believe his ears, but he had heard that loud and clear. Dam… He had a dam… But where was she? Why couldn't he...remember her?

"Bia…" He whispered to her, although she couldn't hear him. "I have a dam… A mother…"

The barrier surrounding him hummed softly, as if answering him. Responding to him. Soothing him.

"I never knew… I didn't remember…" He continued softly, hand stroking her hair. He then turned to look down at her. "Just like how you also don't remember your grandmother… Heen told me. You had a grandmother. Her name was Ellie. She helped you escape from that wretched place Bensalem at the price of her own life. She sacrificed her life for yours and Heen's. You had a great grandmother."

Lucian looked up, and he eyed the barrier surrounding him.

"Do you think my dam is still alive?"

The image of that tarot reader woman flashed in his eyes. Madame Sforza. He had first met her when he was traveling with the gypsies decades ago. She had always looked so sad, her smile strained and lonely. She had slashed Bia's throat ruthlessly and thrown her at him, and she had looked hopeful. And looked at him with longing.

"I want to meet her."

The barrier hummed again, sad and wistful.

Lucian turned back to Bia, and with a nudge from his mind he released Bia from the cocoon of frozen time. It scared him how the blood immediately started flowing with vengeance, creating more stains on her white hair and white gown. It dripped to the cold stone floor with a drip drip drip that was too loud for him in that empty space. Her body started twitching again at the sudden rush of blood. Her eyes flew open, wide and scared. When those pale blue eyes spotted him, however…

She is yours. You are hers.

They calmed.

"Will you stay with me?" He asked her.

Bia made a weak movement with her hand, and Lucian took that small trembling hand in his. Bia squeezed his hand weakly. In his long long years of living, Lucian had learned many great and small things, and one of those things was lips reading. And he could perfectly read what Bia was desperately mouthing at him.

"Please…"

Lucian squeezed her hand back, firm and steady.

"Te-am accepta, așa cum m-ai acceptat. Eu voi fi tovarăș dumneavoastră, așa cum va fi a mea. (I accept you, as you have accepted me. I will be your tovarăș, as you will be mine.)"

Ours...

He whispered the last part of the tovarăș ritual, and he bent down to her neck with mouth wide open. The barrier hummed, and the inscription around Bia's torn neck glowed brighter. Bia released a breath, and she slowly closed her eyes.

Author's Note: In case you get confused, yes Lucian's Sire has the ability to manipulate time and space. So as he is terrorising the Holy Saint in Hiera Sedes, he is also underground with Lucian at the same time. In essence, the previous chapter and this chapter are happening at the exact same time.

By the way, about the part of Madame Sforza crying her heart out for her man, that was not me being a hopeless cheesy romantic. I did my research and it is said that Romanian are romantic and that is how they phrased their expressions. They are very affectionate and romantic. So girls, if you want a romantic boyfriend, get a Romanian guy.

If you want to see how the Count looks like, go to my profile and the link to his sketch image is there.