Before

"Let me see!" Circe pushed closer and grabbed Marpessa's wrist to more closely examine the ribbon tied there. The rest of the student witches clustered around, all wanting a chance to touch the precious artifact. After all, it was from the human world.

"Careful - Watch it, Hekate!" Marpessa struggled against the press of bodies around her. "Don't rip it, please!"

The other witches backed off a bit at that, but only a bit. Circe kept herself bent over the ribbon, protecting it from the crowd. And twisting Marpessa's arm in the bargain, she noted.

It was a pretty thing, and worth fighting over. Made of fine storm-blue Roman silk with gold thread twisted in elegant designs throughout, it shone in the dim light of their classroom like a jewel. Marpessa was lucky to have it, and twice as lucky to have recieved it directly from the Mistress herself. She had already vowed to never undo the knot the Mistress had made and to keep it on her wrist forever and a day.

"I'm jealous," little Ianthe sighed. "Why do only you get a favour from the Mistress?"

"Because I helped her carry all her herbs up from the forest, and read her recipes from the ancient books, and helped the skeletons pin her dress. This," Marpessa held her arm high after wresting it back from Circe, "is a favour rewarded for long and dutiful service." The rest of the student witches gasped and sighed appreciatively.

"Shouldn't you be studying, instead of circling and chatting like a flock of birds?" Euphrosyne's cold words cut through the younger students' voices like a knife. Marpessa glared at her, furious at both the fact that she interrupted deserved glory and that she was, technically, right.

Euphrosyne shrugged and smiled in the face of Marpessa's anger, as if she did not even notice. "Do you not agree, Marpessa? After all, it is our magic that is our crowning glory, our magic that allows us to best serve Lord Dracula."

Marpressa's suitably cutting reply - even if she wasn't sure what it would be - was interrupted by Penelope calling them all to sit down and prepare for the next lesson and she was forced to walk to her seat still stewing about it. Circe patted her shoulder as they sat down, and Ianthe gave her a little smile. Still, it was rubbing the smooth silk around and around her wrist that calmed Marpessa's heart the most. Euphrosyne couldn't take what that meant away, no matter what she said.

A few days later

Marpessa kicked off the ground and held her broom steady, focusing on keeping herself in the air as long as possible. "But why shouldn't I go to the human village?" she asked as she started to list to the left and nearly sent herself off her broom overcorrecting. "The Mistress keeps asking for volunteers out of the human-ish monsters, I'm sure she'd be happy to take me."

The bat flying around her head landed on her broom right in front of her hands, and the sudden change in weight sent them both tumbling to the ground. Marpressa glared at the bat, now a boy, sitting carelessly in front of her as she rubbed at her knees. He ignored her as he always did. "I keep telling you, because it's /boring/," he said, as if going outside the castle was ever boring. "You'd hate it."

"Let me decide that!"

He frowned at her, something odd in his eyes. "But it really is boring," he said again, the same tedious reply as the past month.

"So? Who cares if it's boring?" Marpessa felt her patience begin to falter and just barely avoided adding something she'd regret at the end. "Just let me come along. I'll help carry the medicine."

The Young Master kicked out his legs and mulled it over. Stubborn ass, Marpessa thought. She knew he didn't want her coming along for some reason other than the filthy dullness of human villages or he would've given in by now. She just didn't know what the real reason was.

Eventually, when Marpessa was on the edge of shouting at him to get on with it, the Young Master said, "Look, you don't want to come right now. Everyone's sick and locked up in their houses all day, so it's even duller than usual. Once the illness dies down a bit you can come along, all right?"

Marpessa wanted remind him that she could just ask the Mistress directly and he wouldn't have a choice but to let her come, but the same odd look in his eyes made her hold back. He looked worried, which was strange and unusual enough to make Marpessa worried as well. So instead she just nodded and said, "All right. I'll hold you to that."

"I don't know why you're so obsessed with this anyway," the Young Master grumbled as she dragged her broom out from under him. She still needed to practice her flying, and she couldn't do that on the ground.

Once her had her broom back she jumped into the air again and answered from the air, "It's more exciting than being cooped up in the castle all day." The Young Master rolled his eyes at that, but she'd never let him know the real reason. Because Circe and Ianthe and Euphrosyne didn't go. Because the human villages had lovely bits of silk all the way from Constantinople. And her deepest, strongest reason: because the Mistress went to the human villages. Marpessa rubbed at the silk tied around her wrist and grinned to herself, and didn't stop even when she crashed to the ground again.

In the evening

Marpessa and Circe were playing with the zombies by seeing just how close they could get to touching the rotting heads without actually touching them when it happened.

There was no warning. One moment Marpessa was laughing at Circe for slamming into a zombie in her haste to avoid touching another, the next the Master was there, furious and cursing and it took Marpessa the longest five minutes of her life to realise he wasn't cursing at her.

She and Circe clung together, unable to believe the Master's words. The Mistress, killed. Killed by humans. The village of Rovas had turned on them, had dragged the Mistress out and had her burned to death, had tried to kill the Young Master as well... It couldn't be happening. It couldn't be real.

But the Master smelled of smoke and blood, his clothes smeared with ashes. But the Young Master clung to his side, unseeing and unhearing, his own clothes ripped and coated with dirt.

But the Mistress wasn't with them.

The Mistress, who had patted Marpessa's shoulder and praised her for her spells. Who had smiled when Marpessa brought her a mess of nettles and overlooked her wild hair and dirty feet. Who had encouraged her to fly. Who had never said an unkind word about anyone, who accepted the creatures of the castle more than they accepted themselves, who had ruled over them with judgement and grace...the humans had killed her?

There was no reason for it. There could be no reason for it.

Circe had her head buried in Marpessa's shoulder and was letting out wet, strangled sobs. Marpessa vaguely felt her shoulder becoming damp but she didn't move. The Master was gone but she didn't move. Her legs were becoming numb from the cold stone but she didn't move.

Humans, Marpessa felt, were the most wretched, cruel, loathsome creatures on this Earth.

The next day

"You go," Ianthe whispered.

Circe agreed. "You two are friends."

Marpessa felt that this was rather overstating the matter, but she also felt it was someone's duty to check up on the Young Master and it might as well be her. She left her friends behind and crept to the door, carefully, silently peeking inside.

It was dark, which she had expected. There was a dark shape on the bed that was probably the Young Master, and so Marpessa moved just a bit nearer. She'd never heard silence this complete before. It felt like emptiness, like she was the only living being left in the castle. She took one last fortifying glance back to the hall and Circe's worried face, then approached the bed. "...Young Master?"

"Go away."

Well. That was a dismissal, and no one would say she hadn't tried. Marpessa took a half step backwards - but the Mistress wouldn't have left, so Marpessa forced herself to stay. "I...I just wanted to let you know, the castle mourns with you, and the Blade Masters are assembling the creatures into troops so- so the Mistress will be avenged, you'll see. I'll help." She straightened up and tucked her broom behind her waist in the proper fashion, trying to speak like an adult. "If there is anything you require, my lord, I will do it."

More silence. She wasn't sure if he'd even heard her. Finally the lump stirred and came upright. Longer after that the Young Master spoke. "Is it...I mean, do you think... Mother would have wanted..." He trailed off after that, and there was another long pause before he spoke again. "No, never mind."

Was that it? Marpessa shifted her weight awkwardly and looked back to the hall. She could leave now, right?

"...I hate humans."

"So do I!" Marpessa realised too late how eager that had sounded and scrambled to recover. "After what they've done...it's terrible."

"Yes." The Young Master seemed to fall back in on himself. "Marpessa...can you keep something in strictest confidence? Hear something and not tell anyone?"

"I know what keeping something in confidence means," she said, and realised too late again that that was a bit too tart. "I mean, of course."

"...I knew there was going to be trouble."

"What?"

"Not- not directly! Just...everyone had turned cold and vicious lately. Even Aunt Zoe snapped at us. I didn't think it was worth bringing to Father, so... But that's why I never let you come along. Because they would have been cruel." While Marpessa was still reeling from this, he continued even softer, "They killed her for being a witch. They tried to baptize me. If you'd been there..."

Marpessa bit back every snappish, angry recrimination. "I'd burn them all!" and "You should have told the Master" wouldn't help here. She felt vaguely proud of herself for realising it. Her hands were shaking on her broom and she felt like she was going to fly apart. In an odd sort of way, it was relieving. The strange numbness was gone, to be replaced with rage and determination. The Mistress had always treated the humans kindly even though they didn't deserve it and paid the price. You couldn't trust humans. The Master would make them all pay, make the rivers and oceans of blood in payment. And she would be there with him.

She reached out to the Young Master, the silk ribbon on her wrist catching the light. Looking at it gave her strength, strength to keep going, strength to avenge the Mistress. "Don't be sad," she said, putting all her newfound power into her words. "You just trusted too much. And now we know their true faces, we won't let it happen again. Not to anyone else. I swear to you."

Three years later

Marpesssa sailed down the bloodsoaked hallways of the coliseum without ever needing to touch the ground. It was a wonderful feeling, once she never quite grew tired of. On her broom she was weightless, floating, unbound by the earth. She hummed as she flew, unable to stop the delicious feeling of freedom bubbling up in her chest. The worn silk ribbon flapped on her wrist, frayed edges trailing.

The creatures of the coliseum chattered at her as she swept past, friendly and welcoming. A Blade Novice waved and clicked out that he was sure the Young Master was finished with the latest batch by now, and if she wanted a round of her own she'd have to come back later. Marpessa laughed and thanked him, feeling a bit sad about missing her chance but proud of the Young Master for finishing off the latest in record time.

The main arena opened before her and Marpessa called out as she came in, "Hello, Young Master! Finished already?"

The Young Master turned to look at her, movements oddly sluggish. His eyes looked tired and dead and his voice not much better. "Hello, Marpessa. Yes. They didn't put up much of a fight."

It seemed not. The human prisoners were sprawled across the ground with their backs showing, like they'd tried to get away. Only one woman was lying face up, her guts torn out and splattered across the sandy floor. One particularly fat man had his entire back hacked open, white and red mixing in the wounds. More were piled up in pieces, a dismembered arm there, a snapped leg there...the stench was atrocious. Marpessa was more or less used to it after three years at war, but so much of it at once still made her wrinkle her nose up in disgust. Filthy creatures. She brought her legs around and kicked one out in a way she hoped looked charming and not childish as she asked, "Did any of them do anything interesting?"

"Not particularly." The Young Master didn't seem to notice her pose at all, and he wasn't even cleaning his sword as an excuse. "They just died like all the rest." His tone was still flat and disinterested.

Marpessa didn't quite understand it. If the Master had her killing humans all the time, she'd at least try to enjoy it more. It really seemed as if the Young Master was suffering from some sort of imbalance. She floated over to one of the corpses, the one with the slit throat, and kicked the head back and forth as she talked. "Well, at least clean your sword. Kuan Sheng will bloody your hide if you don't."

"Ah." At least he pulled out a cloth to wipe away the blood.

"If you're getting bored with these, ask the Master to bring in some Turkish warriors. I heard they've been sniffing around lately." She kicked with a bit more force and the head popped right off to bounce across the sand. Marpessa enjoyed watching it roll. "I bet those would be a proper challenge for you."

"It doesn't matter. Everyone dies the same."

"Haha! That's philosophical. Or are you saying no human is a challenge any more?"

The Young Master looked at her, face serious. "I'm saying a corpse is a corpse. To me it doesn't matter who they are."

Marpessa leaned back, balancing herself on the narrow broomstick as she considered this. "That's a good thing, isn't it? Should I congratulate you?"

"No." He looked away. "I don't think I'd care even if I killed you, now. That's all."

"Why would you kill me?" Marpessa asked. "I'm not a human. There's no reason for us to fight." Was that what was bothering him so much? How silly.

"We're just for fighting humans...but you remember, don't you? That Mother was human?"

"The Mistress was one of us!" Marpessa snapped. How dare he! How dare he say that! The Mistress was an honourary member of the Witch's Guild, bestowed by Queen Helene herself! "It was the humans who murdered her, though she showed them nothing but kindness! Meaningless corpses are all they deserve to be!"

He just looked at her, expression completely blank. When had he learned to control his face so well? It didn't seem like the Young Master Marpessa remembered. "Well, if you say so, I suppose it's true."

"It is true." She kicked at the corpse some more. "But really, if you're that bothered about it...well, I'll try to show up earlier tomorrow and you can leave it to me instead."

A year later

"No one's going to come here," Circe said, full of conviction. She was bouncing up and down with her broom, and the constant motion of her flaxen hair was a constant distraction to Marpessa. "We're too far away from the Entrance Hall. The zombies and Axe Knights are going to get all the hunters and we'll just be sitting uselessly in the back."

"It's not fair," Marpessa agreed. Witches were assigned to the upper halls in accordance with their ability to fly, but it meant they never, ever got to kill one of the humans that dared assault the Master's castle. They had fresh air and a lovely view, but no hunters. "I wish, just once, one of them would make it up here. I'd fry them in a second!"

"Are you wishing for the death of our fellow creatures of the night?" the elegant voice floated down from above, and Marpessa grimaced to see Euphrosyne flying down to meet them. As usual, Euphrosyne was nothing but perfectly poised on her broom, legs crossed exactly how they should be, chest forward, hair falling in graceful waves down her back. Circe stopped her bouncing, a guilty expression on her face. Marpessa resisted the urge to smooth out her own tangled hair and just looked coolly at the newcomer. Euphrosyne met her look with a matching one of her own. "Well, Marpessa?"

"I wish to show my strength and skill as a member of Lord Dracula's forces," she said. There. Let Euphrosyne find a problem with that.

Of course she did. "First of all," she said, raising one delicate finger into the air, "you must realise your place among the army. You have only just earned your hat, and-"

Euphrosyne's lovely voice cut off with a harsh, bloody gurgle.

Everything seemed frozen. Euphrosyne had a dagger in her throat. Where had that come from? Hunters didn't come up here! But there was a dagger in Euphrosyne's throat, one that jerked sickeningly as she struggled to breath through the horrible wash of blood. Euphrosyne's hands clawed at it, even as it ripped into her flesh and Circe reached out to stop her-

By some mad instinct Marpessa shoved her away just as another dagger flew through the spot her hand had been. The fiends, attacking them as they cared for each other! Marpessa could see their enemy now, a skinny stick of a man, half naked and clutching a dagger in his rotten teeth. He climbed through the window and flipped to the small platform meant for an Axe Knight, more daggers at the ready.

He took the dagger out of his mouth slowly, savoring their wide-eyed horror. "Here you are, then," he said in a horrible, creaking voice. His eyes burned with madness. "Tell me where your master is, little girls. I have a few words I'd like to say to him."

To Marpessa's shame, it was Circe that acted first. She threw out a scattering of lightning balls, wild and without aim, but it forced the enemy to jump and tumble out of the way. He scrambled up the bare wall with no trouble, like some sort of crawling lizard, quicker than lightning.

But not quicker than Circe. She flew up and up, Marpessa only half a broomstick behind, and pelted the man with more electricity and fire from the height. He threw another dagger but this time, this time Marpessa was ready, her fingers twisting to form an unbreakable shield in front of her and his shot fell harmlessly away. Circe's electricity hit him a moment later, smashing from every direction and sending him reeling. Marpessa gathered light, heat, flame in her hand and flung it out, burning the enemy's flesh right off his bone and that made him fall, tumbling over and over again before he hit the bottom of the hall with a wonderfully final crack.

"Euphrosyne!" Circe cried out as she dived. Euphrosyne had caught up on one of the small platforms that occasionally popped out of the walls, lying broken and small. Her blood pooled beneath her. Her chest still rose and fell with each shuddering, painful breath, but each time was slower. "Euphrosyne! Don't die!"

Marpessa felt numb again. It was obvious to anyone watching Circe's pleas were in vain. That was a fatal wound. Euphrosyne hadn't a chance. It was like the Mistress' death all over again, but now right in front of her. She and Circle gathered around Euphrosyne, petting her hair, saying soft, soothing things, hoping they could- could- could ease her passing.

Monsters weren't supposed to die. Humans died. Not them.

Euphrosyne shuddered one last time, bled one last gout of blood that covered Marpessa's hands with gore and stained her ribbon brown and black, breathed one last pathetic, gasping breath.

Marpessa didn't know why she was crying. She hadn't even liked Euphrosyne. She just couldn't stop.

400 years later

Marpessa idly floated around the Floating Catacombs, letting her foot trail across the broken brick and watching it crumble. Guard duty was dull, but she told herself for the hundredth time it was important. Shaft's idea of using a Belmont to guard the castle had failed - of course it had, Marpessa didn't know why the Master bothered with the stupid priest - so now they had to protect the Master. As soon as whoever had done it would get here.

Somewhere above her Ianthe yawned.

Marpessa tucked another bit of hair under her hat and dropped down a bit to look at the entrance. The red light was giving her a headache, and she didn't like this Galamoth who'd taken over. She hoped the Master would awaken soon and send him away. But until then, her duty was just to float here and wait.

A noise. Heavy footsteps past the gaping door.

Marpessa sat upright on her broom, ready for the hunter. If they had come here, then Circe and Kore were already dead. Her hands clutched the broomhandle. She'd avenge them.

A shadow detached itself from the mass about the entrance and stepped into the glaring light, and Marpessa was surprised to find that she recognized the hunter.

The Young Master - no, he was too old now, Master...he called himself Alucard now for whatever stupid reason - Master Alucard looked at her calmly. He'd grown up fairly handsome, Marpessa allowed, but his hair had been bleached to an awful-looking blond. He seemed to have been washed out entirely. His sword rested comfortably in his hand.

They stared at each other for awhile, neither wanting to move.

It was Master Alucard who spoke first. "Marpessa, stop. This isn't what Mother-"

That broke the spell over Marpessa as well, and she drew herself up to glare at the traitor, the bastard son of their Master, Circe's killer. "But I will not," she replied, voice ringing with righteous determination. "They killed the Mistress, didn't they? This is war."

She raised an elegant hand, the tattered silk ribbon fallen away centuries ago, and gathered electricity in her palm.