Aria of the Ascending Soul

Written By: Lady Lunar Phoenix

Beta: Just the sheer length of time since I wrote this chapter.

A/N: Didn't touch up much here, deaged Soma a touch and went a word or two.

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At birth it was noted that Soma Cruz was an odd person. From his first breath he wailed and screamed, the baby cried no matter what anyone tried to do. His anxious parents wondered if there was a problem, was their first born in some form of pain? Had they done something to prohibit even the infants first few precious hours of life to be pleasant? Had they failed? They begged him as his mother gently bounced him in her arms, in that way that all parents seemed to do. It worked for others, but their little one didn't seem to care. Quickly gathered toys, silly sounds, nothing soothed the baby, until a stranger all in black appeared. He had spoken words that neither parents understood, yet he wore a cross so they assumed that perhaps he was a type of priest. But in that meeting their son stopped crying, from there he became a very quiet child.

Children were wild things really, adults always trying to understand the very things they lost when they grew up. The sense of wonder that a child could and did experience set them off like bouncing balls, from where they were released to whatever grabbed their attention. Some children didn't stop, going from one end of the room to the other, others were cautious of anything new and hung back. Either responses were normal and quite natural, but Soma was a contradiction upon himself. He didn't hang back with his parents, but he didn't run towards anything new or shiny either, instead he strode. Once he selected something to focus his attention on, he turned his direction towards it, he didn't waste energy with senseless flailing towards a goal. He was forever in control.

That calm, self assured, confident demeanor that was decades too soon to be something that a child possessed. Children had a tendency to cry when they looked at him, scared by his calm, cold demeanor, but the grown ups could find no fault in this. Pale features, white hair, with such vivid blue inhumane eyes that did not belong on any childs' face. From the cradle to high school, even now in collage they feared that inhumane gaze.

Bullies on the playground, became bullies because they were taught that the strong always prey upon the weak. Flippant excuses such as 'I know what is best', or 'do as I say not as I do', or even 'I am the parent and you will do as I tell you' did not justify the failing of communication, the restriction of love or warmth, or the maturity to know when and what behavior was proper. No one bullied Soma, not a single boy or even girl. One look from his eyes could cower the biggest bullies, sending them home crying. Even on those very rare occasions, the parents of said bully would be reduced to fear at the sight of Soma Cruz.

A school councilor once asked him, in his professionally compassionate voice, for a reason why Soma looked down on everyone else. It surprised him, he never thought about it, or noticed anyone around him that might feel that way about him. In the honesty of that question, Soma had sat in the oversized chair for a good bit of time pondering that. His reply had caused the councilor to wonder, as well as his parents, about Soma. But for Soma it was a simple answer to a question he couldn't, at the time, explain himself.

"If you feel that I am looking down on you, then I guess I am. I don't know why, I guess you want to be looked down on. But that's kinda strange for a grown up to want to be looked down upon by a kid, right?"

Age six had been an interesting age with that revelation. Not just because of the councilor's question, the subsequent attempts at making him 'open up', but the fact that by then he had made a friend of his own. Mina was a nice girl, who never seemed to have a problem with the way he looked at her or acted. It may have been odd, that such a young boy's only friend was a girl from a shrine. But this never bothered Soma either.

By the time Soma reached the age that involved hormones and looking at girls, he had a different response to the presence of others. But it was a long night after a trip through the Castle of his Soul that he understood what he had been doing...

He came home without a word, gathering up a host of old year books from over the years of his youth. He dropped them onto his desk before sliding out of his thick furred coat, as the sun continued setting on the first day after all the insanity of the castle. He flipped open each year book, until he found himself, the school uniforms, the cold looks that always felt so natural to him. So much so that he never felt he stood out or looked odd to the rest of the school system, society, possibly the world if they knew of him. The earliest one he had, showed a small boy with soft snowy hair, and an expression worn of someone who just heard something stupid. They always told children to smile, before they took the pictures. But Soma found the instruction to just 'smile' rather stupid and instead raised an eyebrow in apathy. Second year was better, the photographer explained the purpose of smiling, so he did. It came out with only the slight twist at the corner of his mouth, the slight upturn that indicated he 'was' smiling. But it had a pleasant effect of softening his normally stern visage.

Both year books were placed side by side so he could see himself at those ages, before looking up at himself. One was a look of annoyance almost, one of gentle admittance to a softer look, but both expressions were grossly out of place in a child. In a normal child at least, because now Soma knew he was far from that idea. Looking up at himself, he stared at the white hair that framed his face, not much different then when he was a child. The pale skin, the vivid blue eyes that stared out at him from the pale frame of his own features. Other children bore open, excited expressions, innocent, they all looked innocent while Soma himself looked like a soul that had already been around.

He kept looking for the Vampire Lord that was him in those blue eyes, kept hunting the gold that could over take his vivid blue eyes. Tongue licking against his teeth as they sought out the fangs of a vampire. He tried calling up the Succubus soul, but the moment he did, his reflection vanished from sight, denying him the chance to see his other self. So he was reduced to this, the black turtle neck that wrapped around his upper body, the blue jeans that covered his legs. Simple style he once thought, but coupled with his coat and he saw a modern age vampire lord.

He stared at himself for a long time, hands bracing against the mirror in his room. Watching as the shadows played upon his face, from the light on the other side of the room. Assessments made of people over the years began to take a different shape then before. For the innocent mind of a child, it was the unexplained emotional distance of someone who didn't know or care. For the adult...

It was the predator, the alpha hunter sizing up potential prey. It was that lost understanding that radiated through out his life through his eyes, his posture, his being. He was the hunter surrounded by the milling masses of prey. Even now, as he sat there high above the other humans who came to see the Holy Pope, he hunted. He'd catch himself doing it without thought, sizing up people, their lifestyles, their habits, their movements all in a fraction of an instant he had it. The complete mock up of who each person was, their strengths and weaknesses. The nervous tick, the arrogant smirk, the down cast eyes, and the up turned chin all of it was evaluated since childhood and put into file.

Mina was immune to him though, easy prey, was what he felt, but his instincts did not wish to carry it out. Indeed, shortly after his awakening and his realization he didn't crave anything from this knowledge. Before he sometimes wondered, then shrugged it off as something he would either eventually figure out, or forget about. His forgotten self craved an explanation, which caused his predator behavior to be more pronounced. Now that he knew, the hunger was satisfied and he was left to his own devices.

"Why did you awaken me? I was happy the way I was!"

The words were spoken, but meant something else. His dark side had been there the whole time, but only in the back of his mind. The modern world was filtered into his subconscious where his memories rested. The door between the conscious and the subconscious had been firmly shut until he came to the castle. But it wasn't a bad introduction, with each new soul a crack was placed inside the structure of that door.

Soma didn't have time to figure out the details in using his powers, he only had time to understand the basic aspect of 'using' them. Understanding the subtle nuance was shoved in the back of his mind for another time. Shoved in the back where his ancient self slept, hearing the muffled sound of the living world through the door. Each new soul was presented like a small eager child's question to their wise parents. Tapping at the door, crying out to understand this new thing that they had found. Patient, sleepy answers were called back in answer for each new soul, even as every question put a new crack in the door. Like parents on their child's first Christmas the old soul stirred to answer questions, strengthening the child's ability to survive. Until the Castle shattered the door separating them and forced him out of 'bed'.

The focus that was Dracula, the drive that was the Lord of Darkness that had been sleeping was now his defense mechanism. Dracula understood the weird feelings he held inside his head, the pull of the darkness around them. But what Dracula knew didn't automatically mean Soma knew, what should have been awareness became intuitive. Which meant, he couldn't figure out what the problem 'was', just that there was a problem that needed to be dealt with. Because to find out 'what' the problem was, meant surrendering to those dark memories. He wouldn't survive, if Celia showed him anything about himself; he couldn't handle pure dark, negative emotions.

Which was why he was here in the Holy Church of the Vatican, after his classes had ended in Japan. Why he sat above everyone, looking down from the balcony and avoiding the weaker masses as they moved. He wanted to see the Pope, needed someone to talk to and despite being close to Yoko... he didn't think she would be the right choice. Arikado had yet to return to the Sanctuary and when he approached Julius or Yoko previously, they seemed to think he was just 'lonely'. They wouldn't talk to him, instead reassuring him that Arikado would return. They were busy about something, activity found in lack of movement. Busy, just busy.

So he sat there waiting, because roaming alone through out the Vatican felt like something done in poor taste. While true he could travel further into the church then the general public, it still felt rude. Proper decorum and all that, especially after he de-handed that one Cardinal. So he sat there waiting for his escort to arrive, studying the masses as he did so. In the distance he saw a small head of brown hair making it's way towards his balcony and he straightened up in his chair.

"You will be requiring an escort, if you are to travel through the Vatican unattended by Yoko or I."

It bothered Soma sometimes, how easily the Dark One could slide into place in his life. How practical it felt when Arikado would just 'appear' out of seemingly thin air. More so the fact that he didn't feel angry about it or startled, instead feeling as though it was normal. In the quiet hours before dawn he would realize how normal it felt to have Arikado around. If it was because he was a Dark Child or something else, Soma couldn't tell and he worried holes into the questions. "They're still afraid of me."

"Only a fool would not be afraid of who you are and what you represent. That aside I will be lending you my attendant in the church. He's about your mental age and maturity level so I feel this will work well."

Soma didn't trust a word out of Arikado's mouth upon the words 'mental age' being spoken. His eyes had narrowed and he had looked about quietly for signs of this 'attendant'. "What's his name?"

"Elmo."

'How in God's name can he say that with a face so straight that levels look on in envy?' Soma thought before blurting out a cheeky, "can I tickle him?"

"Only if you are the same age as him."

Elmo proved to be, in Soma's words, a baby in Vatican robes. A small child of six years with a soft face that didn't help stop people from wanting to tickle him probably. Just to make him smile and laugh. The boy's hair was dark brown, his eyes a soft shade of green, in essence the opposite of Soma's own childhood in many ways. He was a harmless looking boy, with a set expression as he tried to carry out his duties. Those duties being, escorting the Dark King around the Vatican.

"Hello, Mr. Cruz," Elmo pipped up, as he finished climbing the stairs to reach Soma. "They said you were looking for me?"

"Yes, Elmo, guide me to the Pope, I want to talk to him."

Elmo was prone to stare at him or even Arikado when the instruction to 'take me to the Pope' was given. Probably due to the fact that normally a child so young did not have such freedom to do so. It was clear that the Dark Gentleman and Mr. Cruz could find the Pope with ease on their own if they so wished. Yet the fact that it was intentionally given as a duty to little, helpless him that always amazed him. The Dark Gentleman had picked him out of the choir line up and since then, Elmo ran errands for the stranger, as well as Ms. Yoko, and now Mr. Cruz.

The errands were never hard, fetch quests mainly or to be led around, in fact, stoic and cold as the Dark Gentleman was, he was nice about it. If the request came during choir practice then the Dark Gentleman would simply sit and wait out rehearsal in the main chambers. Their sole audience for their practice until it was time for him to guide the Gentleman.

But that was neither here nor there, now it was time to get Mr. Cruz to the Pope!

"You don't know where he is do you?" Soma asked, a quirk of his lips that softened his aloof expression into something a little more approachable. The tips of Elmo's ears turned red whenever he was embarrassed by something. Usually by being requested something he didn't know off hand. So far, every time Soma had made the request, the tips of those ears went red. He lightly ruffled the child's hair in amusement before moving off letting the boy follow him. That's how it really went, Soma guided the small boy while he looked for the Pope.

Which made it no surprise when people often commented on the white lion that walked with the lamb, as the pair walked through the Vatican.