Trevor Belmont is looking around the town of Gresit from atop the wall, watching people mill about the town center. With the night creatures asleep so early in the morning, the people had no fear wandering the streets.
His eyes catch something golden.
She's a short thing with a full chest, her curves barely held in by the robe she was wearing. It had to be foreign, all red silk with golden trim, gold flowers lining the bell sleeves. It came down to her ankles, her thick winter clock with a fur hood, dyed black with gold lining, matching her black boots was the same length.
A pretty little thing.
She turned and looked up from the apple she was eyeing, meeting his gaze. Golden eyes widened before she smiled, waved, and turned, pulling her hood over her head without buying her apple. A haunting melody started, seeming to feed right into his ears. No one else seemed to notice the woman's voice, so he hopped off the wall and followed the blonde woman.
"Oh-oh, close your weary eyes. I promise you that soon the autumn comes to darken fading summer skies. Breathe, breathe... breathe," she sang, her form drifting through the crowd easily. No one seemed to notice her, either used to her presence or simply not noticing her.
He was pulled to the edge of the walls, far from the people of the town, and the song seemed to bounce through the trees.
"Days pull you down just like a sinking ship, floating is getting harder, but tread the water, child, and know that meanwhile... Rises the moon." She giggled, the noise making the trees sway.
"What are you?" he asked, widening his stance and putting a hand on his whip.
'Wouldn't you like to know?' she hummed, amused. 'How long it's been since I've smelled Belmont blood.'
"You should know there's not many of us," Trevor huffed. This entity was malicious. The air was light, playful. This wasn't going to be a fight, but he stayed ready.
'No, I supposed not,' she agreed tiredly. 'How fickle humans can be about what is evil and righteous. Did you know healing people also gets you killed nowadays? Madness.'
"I'm sorry for your loss." She appeared again, delicate hands removing her hood. Red dots decorated her cheekbones and her pupils were only slits, but her face was soft with grief. Now that he's had a good look at her, she was surely foreign. Eastern? "Your song?"
"Something I sing to my children to get them to sleep. They've been restless with all this mess going on." She smiled, a weak thing. "I'm Milo."
"Isn't Milo a man's name?" he asked, getting a laugh.
"Yes it is. How astute of you, Belmont," she giggled. "This isn't my normal form, but I find humans are more pliable when they're looking at a young, pretty face." She shifted, a man taking her place with a lean build and long limbs, though not much taller.
"Neat trick," Trevor complemented.
"Your name, stranger?"
"How do I know you aren't fae?"
"Too true," Milo chuckled. "I already know your name, Trevor Belmont, but if withholding your name makes you feel better, I suppose that is up to you. So, Stranger, what brings you to Gresit?"
"Not the scenery," he grouched. "Beer and a bed, mostly." Milo hummed, taking in the Belmont, before nodding.
"Come along then, Stranger. I think I've got what you need." He shifted again, moving to take his arm and lead him back into the town. People stared, jealousy so thick in the air that you could cut it. She simply kept walking.
"The people here seem protective of you," Trevor pointed out quietly. She snorted, looking up at him and batting her eyelashes.
"Protective? Maybe. I've been keeping them safe from the hoards. Dracula's little nightmares don't come within two miles of me. Scared, or ordered to, not sure."
"You've got it in with the King of Vampires?" he asked. She hummed, grinning.
"There was a time I slept with the 'King of Vampires', as you call him. He's nothing but a huge bookworm that has the social skills of a wet badger," Milo laughed, bumping her hip into his, trying to share her humor. "We are stopping somewhere first, though. I'll bring you somewhere warm for the night after. It is almost nightfall, after all, and we wouldn't have the last of the Belmonts freezing. What an unheroic death."
"One I've earned," Trevor grouched. She bumped their hips again, giving him a glare, before they entered a run-down building full of Speakers. She looked around, greeting them, before doing a headcount.
"Where is your Elder?" Milo asked, concerned. "Has Sypha not returned?"
"No, we haven't seen either of them. The Elder went out a few hours ago, but hasn't returned. We were going to go look for him," one of the Speakers explained, looking panicked. She waved it away, shushing them.
"It's dangerous for you, now. Let me go and find him and Sypha. Stay here, loves. Come along, Stranger, we're going hunting." Trevor went along with her pulling, grumbling all the while, but following anyway.
"You've been mingling with Speakers?" Trevor asked, looking down at the supernatural creature before him. Milo looked up at him before continuing forward. "Do they know what you are?"
"Their way of life is built around what I am," she huffed, puffing her cheeks. "I, too, am a messenger and keeper of stories. I have many, and each of my limbs counts two human lifetimes." Milo paused, taking a deep breath. "I smell rust. Come along, Stranger."
They moved, checking the alleyways, before coming upon two priests attacking an old man. Trevor sighed, moving to free his arm from her and grab his whip, but Milo stilled him.
"Elder?" she called, satisfied when the priests whipped around like they'd been struck. "They aren't bothering you, are they?" Milo pulled Trevor with her, her smile kind.
"Not at all, my dear," he assured. His lip was cut, and a bruise was starting to form on his cheek from a hit. "Who's this young man?"
"A stranger I've met. Couldn't get a name out of him, poor thing. I was planning on taking him with me, give him some food for helping me," she lied and simpered, brushing past the priests. The large one grabbed her arm, pulling, but she didn't budge a muscle, just kept moving. "I also heard from your train that baby Sypha hasn't returned. You wouldn't tell me where she went off to, but I'm worried."
"Hey!" the priest growled. "This is none of your business, woman! Take your John and leave." She paused, turning to face him finally, letting go of Trevor as anger flushed her face red.
"I am not some whore you can insult," Milo threatened, hiding her claws with her cloak. "If you want to keep your tongue in your head, it'll be you who leaves."
"Take care, sirs. She isn't one to threaten lightly," the Elder Speaker warned. "No need for such violence, my dear." Huffing, she tucked herself into Trevor's side again and lead the three of them back to the Speaker's shake, seething. "Thank you, for your help, Milo, and yours as well, stranger."
"Trevor," he corrected. "She knows my name, just refuses to use it."
"You wouldn't give it to me, Stranger, so Stranger you shall be," she hummed, standing on her toes to ruffle his hair. Milo sobered, turning to the Elder. "Where is Sypha?"
"He thinks she's dead," one of the Speakers informed darkly. "We cannot move on without burying our dead, it is not our way."
"So let me get this straight," Trevor interrupted, "you think she's dead, and you don't know where. You won't move on without her."
"We came to Gresit hoping to help the people here, but the hoards are avoiding this place," the Elder huffed. "My granddaughter has heard the legend of the Sleeping Soldiers and thinks they're here, in Gresit. She went in search of them."
"I'll tell you that they are here," Milo confirmed, humming at the harsh breaths. "I'm the one that buried them here. I'm also the one who made that legend long ago, back when I was young. I know where she is. We'll see if there is something to bring back to you, Speakers. I promise to find her." She looked up at Trevor, grinning with pointed teeth. "Come along, Stranger."
"Why am I coming with you?"
"You want that warm bed and good drink, don't you? I've lived for hundreds of years, no one has stronger alcohol than me." She laughed as Trevor sighed, tugging him along. He grumbled, but wandered with her. She pulled up her hood, humming the same tune she's been singing in the woods, and lead him to a chapel.
"Can you go in here?" Trevor asked with a raised brow.
"Christianity holds no sway over me," she snickered. "I once crucified a bishop on his own steeple."
"I'm guessing he earned it?"
"I should have done worse."
She wandered around the chapel, letting go of Trevor and jumping up onto the back of a statue, humming. She slid down a shoot, waiting for Trevor at the end, and wandered through the hall as the lights all came on.
"Wait," he growled, looking at the lights and pipes. "This looks just like the inside of Dracula's castle."
"And who do you think was there when he made them?" Milo asked, shifting into his male form again and stretching. "Come along, Stranger. You need not worry about anything harming you here. I've kept it all in one piece, so there shouldn't be any danger of a collapse. I've told you, monsters don't come within miles of me for a damn good reason."
He lowered his hood, unclipped the hook and put it over his arm, revealing a window in the robe. The skin of his lower back was smooth, unblemished, before nine tails sprouted from them and waved about lazily, twitching as soft ears flicked on top of his head.
"A fox spirit," Trevor breathed.
"Yes, Stranger. My people call them kitsune, a messenger for the gods and a trickster. They can offer protection and good fortune, or be devious and malicious. Come along, Belmont, we have a Speaker to save."
"You know what got her, don't you?" Trevor accused, jogging to catch up. "You said you keep this place."
"A stone cyclops moved into the entrance not that long ago," Milo admitted, rolling his eyes. "I let it stay there as an extra defense for my wards. It did its job well."
"Well, know it has a Speaker," Trevor hissed.
"That is why you're here, right, Stranger? To kill monsters?" Milo teased. The hallway opened up to a large room, the lightbulbs buzzing with electricity and blue light on the statues filling the room. Some were missing limbs, their pieces scattered about, but Trevor's eyes were drawn to the statue in the middle, one cloaked and shielding her face as if it would protect her. "There she is. Hello, Sypha."
He wandered over to her, making a loose circle, before nodding. He popped a hip and crossed his arms, looking at Trevor with a raised eyebrow.
"What? The only way to free her is to kill the cyclops. I have no doubts you can: one, do that on your own, two, you know where its den is," Trevor bitched, listing them off on his fingers.
"I'm surprised you can count that high," Milo teased. "I could do all that, but what fun would that be? Surely, this is light work for someone as esteemed as a Belmont." The ground started to rumbled, the broken tiles clattering together, and Milo snorted. "We don't even have to go looking. Good luck, Stranger." He dissipated into golden smoke, his laughter ringing around the room like a death chorus. Trevor only cursed, readying his whip.
--~~--
Sypha huffed as Trevor continued to ignore her, rounding on the man with a pointed finger and a sharp tongue. The Belmont had only rolled his eyes. She had somehow gotten him to look into the crypt, leading him past the body of the cyclops and into various traps set by the kitsune.
"I'm telling you, that fox spirit we've been following is no good," Trevor gripped back, grabbing the back of Sypha's robes to pull her away from a wall that intended to crush her. "He said he made this place, and I don't think he's going to like us down here fucking around."
"Milo?" she asked, surprised. "You've met Milo?"
"Lured me into the fucking woods and practically gave me a heart attack before leading me around all of Gresit," the hunter grumbled, throwing his hands out. He stilled as he caught sight of a golden, misty fox. Its solid red eyes tracked them without pupils, seeming to find amusement in their suffering. "Yeah, fuck you too."
The little fox snickered before jumping down from its perch to walk alongside them. Sypha squealed, crouching to pet the fox, letting it sniff her hand before scratching behind its ears.
"They're supposed to be messengers of the gods," Sypha explained, offering her arms, delighted when it hopped up to let her carry it. "To be kind to the foxes is to bring about good fortune." The fox started humming, a tenor that sounded familiar to the both of them.
"That same song," Trevor huffed, listening to the mechanics around them click and creak. "What is it doing?"
"I can feel magic reacting to the song," Sypha informed, looking around. She seemed to be able to see something Trevor could not. "Maybe it's deactivating the traps for us." The fox barked, rumbling as it pressed its head under her chin.
'Come on, then. I suppose I can let you through the rest of the way unhindered,' Milo's voice echoed, too large to be anywhere but inside their heads. 'I've had my fun.'
"Done trying to kill us, are you?" Trevor snarked, glaring as the fox in Sypha's arms hissed at him.
'Well, with an attitude like that, Stranger.' Laughter rang out, bouncing around the room. 'Follow them, they will lead you.'
Foxes appeared, silently watching the humans as Sypha led them deeper into the tomb. She marveled at the huge gears, at the magic dripping off them, and the state of the wood in such a damp place. Trevor followed with thin lips and a hard stare, making sure the foxes stayed in his sight and a hand stayed on his whip.
The Vampire Killer whip wouldn't do much against spirits, not ones like this. Iron was more useful, but without Milo even visible, the most he could do is get the spirits to dissipate. Keeping that in mind, Trevor followed the Speaker magician into a large room with a raised dais, Milo standing with his back to them beside a rather large coffin. One hand rested on the lid, the song he'd been singing to still the traps echoing around them.
"Milo?" Sypha called, petting the fox in her arms. The humming stopped and he turned, his tails lashing.
"Do you know the story of the Sleeping Soldiers, the whole story?"
"The Sleeping Soldiers, one light, one dark, will be met with a scholar and a hunter to save the world," Sypha recited, pouting as the fox leapt out of her arms to meet its master, sitting at his feet, facing them.
"It's true." Milo chuckled, a low, hollow noise. He patted the lid. "Here are your soldiers."
"In a coffin," Trevor growled. "You led us to a coffin? What's in there, vampires?"
"Close," he agreed, turning to face them fully. "Dhampirs. Dunpeal is another name they go by. Half-bloods. I think it's time they awaken, don't you?" He knocked on the lid, smiling. "It's time to wake up, loves."
The lid hissed open, revealing two forms curled around each other, eyes still closed. Milo hummed, chuckling at the foxes that left their post to crowd the coffin. They had missed their princes, too, after all.
"Welcome back Sunshine, Moonlight."