Castlevania: Aria of the Ascending Soul

Written By: Lady Lunar Phoenix

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Lodovico was amazed that he could feel any of his lower body by this point. Every news agency in the world had been calling incessantly. So much so that his voice mail had started rejecting calls, but he had his prepared statement. He just recited it over, and over, and over until it was as drilled into his head. But his fatigue was more in the spirit than the flesh. So many brothers and sisters aimlessly wandered the halls, whimpering or out right crying. Some stifling their tears long enough to pass him by, but he heard the nasal sounds all the same.

His Holiness was likely resting, older than they he needed it more, but also this was just... 'Honestly if we never Sealed up Dracula's power...' He thought to himself as he saw a small cluster of his fellows grieving. Several looked as though they had aged by a decade after this horror, a few nuns as well, where had those salt strands come from in that raven black hair?

"My Brothers and Sisters, I've been dealing with the media, what is going on?" He asked fighting the urge to add 'now' as he greeted the group.

"Your Eminence, the police have returned! The abandoned guest suite!" One of the priests answered his eyes filling with tears that choked any further words out of him.

"Children! Wall to wall of children, brutally murdered! As if we do not already have a horrible reputation when it comes to them." One of the nuns sobbed into her hands and Lodovico felt his heart fall onto his stomach and send both plunging to his feet.

"Murdered. Children?" he repeated wishing he had misheard it, but they all nodded. Then the descriptions started spilling forth, from slit throats to the fear of where these children came from. After all as many as there were, given how they appeared they should have been noticed... As he stood there soaking in this latest tragedy he realized they must have been theorizing.

There was some interesting things of note, but also a quiet realization. Clearly the news agencies didn't know of this yet, so he could expect more calls.

"Ahh Lodovico!" Marco called out and waved him to his fellow Cardinals side. "Just the man I hoped to see," Marco began as soon as he walked into Lodovico ear shot. There 'were' far more gray hairs in the man's head since the attack began. But so far his face was still the simple structure of an Italian in his mid 40s.

"Is something wrong? I've heard of the children," Lodovico began which earned him a confused expression for all of a moment. One he clarified and watched the Cardinal break into a momentary prayer for those souls.

"Now I feel horrible for wishing to ask you to help me with this." Marco confessed a slight twist of his lips into a grimace. "It is Binachi, Dante pulled me aside and explained that Binachi offered to help him deal with the voice messages from the families of our brethren. Yet as kind as the offer is, he said the messages do not drop in number, as soon as one completed and removed another takes its place."

"Just the two of them? Lord give them strength!" Lodovico couldn't help but shudder, as he had been tasked to deal with the media. An expected duty given his position as External Affairs, but to deal with all those bereaved families?!

"Can you help me? I assumed that you had left your office because you had finished your calls. If we take some that would help Binachi and Dante out..." Marco asked, his earnest expression fighting his own distress by immersing himself in work.

"Of course, with our assistants either occupied helping others or..." Lodovico shook his head before the pair took to walking down the hallway.

"How were the calls?" Marco asked quietly as they walked down these strange foreign hallways that were once their home.

"Tiring, they kept wanting more information than I could give. I just ended up being a recording myself. A momentary lapse of judgment perhaps, but I had longed for an AI to just take the calls for me. Shameful as it is," Lodovico confessed. Some were earnest, other calls stoic... Some were barely masked rage or hate, a few out right mocking to the point where he had to wonder if that really 'was' a publication.

"What is the world coming to? When a tragedy strikes people cheer? Have we not moved past the time when we dehumanized to justify the unforgivable?" Marco lamented, he wasn't wearing his official robes, dressing down may have been frowned upon however, his robes were thick. Sadly stress had a tendency to make him sweat, and the idea of dealing with all those various bereaved families promised to be both stressful and depressing.

"I do not want to think about that at the moment. It makes me ill to think of those cheers when the children are reported." Lodovico admitted, his stomach beginning to churn. "You think Binachi has something for stomachs in his office?"

"Didn't you have lunch?" Marco inquired in concern.

"Yes, and it carried me through my list of numbers, however; it is getting dark."

Marco looked over at a distant window and looked downhearted at that. "We're going to be working through dinner. The nuns will likely bring us food, but... Just thinking of the dead made me think of our own Cherubs. How many times did they tell us, for 'years' no less, that something was wrong and we ignored them? They glimpsed the truth and we ignored it."

Lodovico shook his head before resting his hand on Marco's shoulder. "We did not 'ignore' them. It is our duty to guide them and protect them, and for that we establish what reality 'is'. We were deceived, and in that illusion we literally gaslit them into ignoring the threat itself. No we didn't ignore them. We were and may even still be unknowingly attacked, our duty now would be to protect the flock, even if it means calling up on Dracula himself."

"Lodovico! Have you gone mad!?" Marco's voice dropped into a hushed whisper. "To call upon The Fallen One Himself could be only the greater sin!"

But Lodovico shook his head resolute, "Some of those reporters gave more information than they may have intended. I deal with the External Affairs, but I have received no messages about these attacks 'outside' of the Holy City. Only there were." Marco's look of alarm prompted the man to continue. "While we saw the largest number of those transformations here, they happened in other churches as well. Thankfully, and the fact that I have to ever describe one of our brothers or sisters being 'mowed down on the streets like an animal' as 'thankfully', it happened. The other churches had maybe two or three here or there and certainly not 'all' the churches. While a few had the transformations, but retained their souls. They warned the police in the area that something was wrong and then willingly locked themselves up in their rooms until help could arrive."

Marco covered his face as Lodovico finished. "Brother, we must accept this truth, we are under attack. Whoever this person is, can hide on holy grounds. Who else but the Lord of Darkness can ferret out such a threat?"

"It... would explain a few things..." Marco confessed with reluctance as he recalled the past year. "The Belmonts always could use Holy Water, and the Holy Oils are obviously able to work, so whoever is doing this... Can't be a monster. Or at least a monster easily recognized."

Sobbing seeped out of the edges of the door as they reached Biniachis' office. Bringing both men to pause before bracing themselves. Lodovico took the lead and knocked, the echo of it bounced through his ears and stifled the sob from inside. "Brother, it's us Lodovico and Marco, we came to offer our help!"

Inside the office, Lodovico's words also echoed in his ears as he slumped down into his chair while his fingers sluggishly erased the voice mail. Now answered Binachi sat, defeated in spirit, and watched as the number of waiting voice mails failed to move. There were just too many, the moment he deleted one another slipped into the empty space. So many voices, sobbing, begging, crying, angry, it was just a sea of anguish and outrage that he couldn't swim against anymore.

"Please come in..." He choked out.

The door opened and just the sight of the two men, brothers in their cause and duties, who didn't curse him for a failure or damn him for not doing more...

"Binachi!" Lodovico and Marco strode towards their fellow with determination. The Cardinal looked so utterly crushed, he didn't even try to hide the tears as he sat there. His office was this affair of pictures of his extended family, various crucifixes, books on theology. This average level picture that could have been an extended family drawing.

Except if you were close to Binachi or asked, he would proudly boast that it was his nieces' drawing that she had worked very hard on! That the 'average' was actually extraordinary when one learned the girl had been only about 12 years old when she started.

Finishing when she was just 13.

"Its been hard, Dante realized and sent me to give you some back up help. I just happened to find Lodovico outside in the halls and conscripted him to help," Marco explained as he picked up the box of tissue and was taken back that it was empty. Trash can was full though and the pitcher was sitting on the table but was it empty or full?

"They are so angry and I don't know what to say anymore. The list Dante received is obviously incomplete, so I can't give any answers. Is the person dead because they are a victim of the attack? Did they transform? Or they're just missing struck by the terror of the whole attack? I don't know what to say. I thought I would just check the names and call them back. Only..." he rambled on, the people he called back had been finished so he had moved on to those on the voice mail. Trying to automatically remove the ones called. But there was no way to do so, the system was antiquated, he couldn't just 'move on' to a new call it was: delete or respond to.

"Its not just our church, I've gotten messages from around the globe. I tried to argue that it only happened here, and I..."

Marco started praying as Lodovico began to explain about what the media and informed him.

"My family is ok, they knew nothing about this, or why I was so worried at first. But a little over an hour ago maybe? They must have gotten word because they have been sending me texts in concern. Then in fear, other people, knowing I am of the Church, have begun to reach out to them... Someone, broke the windows to my brothers' car. Wrote slurs on the sides, about 'pedo priests', I have never!"

Marco's shoulders slumped in disappointment. "One tragedy and they would lump all sins on us..."

"I am telling you Marco, this wouldn't be happening if Dracula was still at least in control. Dante overstepped so many protocols when he used the Oil on the Agent. This is unacceptable, the flock is scared and the masses are going to start looking for a scapegoat to attack." Lodovico warned as he looked about, "Let me listen to the messages, I will record 40 call back numbers, Marco can take half and I take the other half. Once we've finished those calls, we will come back for more. But once it is time for bed, I insist you rest. You are not of Internal Affairs, and you 'must' rest as well Binachi."

"I have to go near the kitchens, I'll see what the Sisters are up to and let them know you need to eat. We all do really," Marco spoke up... "And better the phone than a fryer."

"I mean maybe in the eyes of the Lord, your ability to burn 'water' IS a gift." Lodovico offered before wincing at this loud wail. The other two men flinched in response as well as a woman begged for information about her son.

"Given how many rooms now stand empty..." Binachi sighed, "I've had people wanting to come and collect their loved ones things. But how can I permit that when I don't know if the person is actually dead or 'how' they died? The police will not be thrilled that we permitted crime scenes to be tampered. Only for worried people to be infuriated that their family could dare be accused of being a criminal."

"It just snow balls I suppose. Because we don't know the whole list, or what caused those who 'did' change to do so. Meaning we have no way to give closure just 'yes we know your loved one is gone we're dealing with it.'"

"And we're not dealing with media looking for ad revenue, we're talking actual human beings who have loved ones."

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One kitchen had the lights on, the others were dark, yet there were some warm aromas drifting. Simple fare, home made chicken soup, biscuits, inside the kitchen there were cutting boards out and vegetables were being prepared for large salad bowls.

"Oh a large bottle of jam! Wonderful hopefully the children enjoy this..." One nun shuffled over with the jar held in her arms. A delicious grape jam, while some kids might not like it, it was a sweet treat and the poor darlings.

"I found some fruits not enough for the whole church, but still."

The personal cooks weren't there of course, while they had their own homes to take care of. They 'had' been gracious enough to bring in some food to feed the clergy, and left advice about other foods kept in storage. Thankfully some of the clergy knew their way around a kitchen and had found their peace in the joy of cooking.

It was simple, slicing, dicing, boiling or just making a sandwich. Normal kitchen fare, no one was asking for a five star meal and watching those faces light up for a brief moment. Light returning, a simple enjoyment.

"Oh bother who got the onions? I told you warn me!"

"Sorry..."

A priest went scuttling out of the kitchen, rivers of tears pouring down his face.

"... I'm sorry is this a bad time?" Marco asked as he folded the numbers he got and slipped them into his pocket.

"Oooh no deary! Dear Brother Johan has no love for the onion, somethin about an old school accident.."

"He likes onions but it causes his eyes to react worse than ours. Sinus infection went sideways, if it triggers allergies, it takes him to his knees."

"That's why he couldn't come here and stayed at the smaller parish in the city. Its just luck whatever normally irritates him is gone now, so he can actually visit."

"Yeah... no he was making the chicken soup! OH NO!"

Marco stood and watched a flock of black and brown birds suddenly rushed the stove. For a moment Marco thought about entering to help, only for the imposing form of his grandmother to rise up before him. She was a good woman, bless her soul in the Lords care but stay OUT of her kitchen...

"Brothers and Sisters, if I may, we Cardinals will be taking our evening meal in our offices. We're helping Internal Affairs catch up on his work."

"Ohhh no worries, we'll bring it once its ready. Just don't get too comfy eating away from us!"

"Of course not Sister. We only miss this meal because the weight of the work on just two men is far too cruel."

"Its only cruel if you come to help us, we've heard the stories!"

Light hearted laughter, not entirely forced yet sounding so strange and soothing at the same time. Even if it meant being the butt of a joke, just to hear something positive in the church brought up such a comforting feeling in him. Perhaps it was the cooking, the warm smell of food lovingly made, or the slow return to routine. It told people what they should be doing, letting pattern return and giving people rails to follow through these times.

'We can get through this. It is our trial and we 'must' overcome it for the future and restitution to those we failed in the past...'

The weight in his pocket was a rock holding him to the pain, but the air carried a chance at hope.