"It's dead." Violet pointed out, teeth clattering as she stared down at the frozen horse carcass before her.
Frowning at the carcasses, Jaune gave the closest one a pointed kick to the chest. Shattering its ribcage, blood and organs oozing out of the wound. Painting the white snow black. The stench of rot almost overpowering. White larva quickly dying to the cold.
"It's dead, alright." Jaune said, bending down and looking at the maggots with a sharp gaze. "And it has been dead for a while too. About a decade, maybe even more. The Vilebloods, that's what they call themselves right?" At his daughter's uncertain nod, he nodded to himself. Airing his thoughts helping to jog his memory. "Well the Vilebloods infused blood into the horses, no doubt what gave them the red eyes. It must also be what caused the blood and organs to still be warm even when it is long since dead."
Breathing out, Jaune felt his eyebrow twitch erratically. Already regretting coming to this godforsaken castle. Such flagrant use of blood sending all the wrong messages.
"Blood is both a curse and a boon." Jaune whispered under his breath, standing up and resting his hand on his sword's hilt. Mind swarming with ideas about what he would find inside. None painted a pretty picture.
Without a sigh, Jaune took off his coat, wrapping it around Violet. It looked comical, almost like she drowned in it, but he just shook his head. His daughter beaming up at him with a smile brighter than the sun.
"Aura can protect you from the cold. You have to bring it out. But come on, let's go inside." Jaune said with a little smile, sending a teasing wink to Violet. Knowing full well that the rose on her cheeks came from being embarrassed.
Walking up the staircase, Jaune breathed evenly, ignoring how his heart hammered in his chest. A sense of looming foreboding enveloped the castle. The feeling only grew more intense when the heavy gate slowly was raised before them. The gigantic wooden and metal gate rising without a sound, being pulled up by magical forces instead of chains. It was the only explanation he could think of for it to be so deathly silent.
"Violet, I want you to be cautious the entire time we are here. And if we were to be temporarily split up, I want you to not go throwing yourself into my arms. Instead I will ask you something only we know, and you will do the same." Jaune ordered, turning to give his daughter a stern glance. Both glad and a smidgen proud that she didn't try and argue with him. Instead only giving him a stern nod.
"What happens if you don't answer right?" Violet asked softly.
"Then you know what to do." Were his only cold words of comfort. Leaving the words hanging for half a moment before walking into the courtyard. A dozen statues of royals in all manner of dress the first thing to greet them. Snow fell gently from the heavens, trees one vibrant green with colour and life now long since choked to death by a long winter. The clouds a mournful grey, with only bleak stonework being the only thing breaking up the monotone white.
Walking up to the statue of a crowned woman carrying a child in one arm and a lantern in the other, he snapped his fingers. Life springing to life in the Dream's lamp. Snow crunched under his boots as he moved to follow the right most path. Curious and cautious in an equal mixture. Throwing a quick look over his shoulder, he saw Violet following him with an expression carved from stone. His coat leaving soft drag marks in the snow.
Grabbing one of the torches he frowned, up close the fire burned closer to a familiar crimson instead of the orange glow he was used to. "Here, what does the fire taste like?" Jaune asked, handing Violet one of the torches while staring into the flames of another torch. A sinking feeling in his gut long before his daughter answered.
"It tastes weird. Not spicy but wet." Violet complained with a pout, before going straight back to sticking the torch into her face and biting down into the flame.
"It's blood then." Jaune said, voicing his suspicions. Grabbing the burning part of his torch, he choked the life out of the fire. Crushing the wick in his hands and holding up a fresh wood that bled red. "That's not good."
"Why?" Asked Violet, munching away on her torch like it was a snack. Poking the metal gate with her misericorde.
"Because if they have infused blood into both horses and torches, what more have they infused blood into?" Jaune answered plainly, holding back a frown. Throwing the destroyed torch to the side, he picked another torch from its cone.
Exploring out of the little statue filled building, he carefully moved over the icy rooks with slow and deliberate steps. Bending down before a half-frozen corpse, pulling out another coldblood from its breast pocket. Feeling how the coldblood rolled and jutted in his fingers as if almost alive. Looking down on the blood in his hand it looked as if multiple dead wills were trapped in the blood, madly struggling to free themselves.
Fishing out his journal, he wrote three quick words before pocketing both the journal and the blood.
"Dad look! There is another corpse down there." Violet called out, an eagerness in her voice. Panic shoot trough him, disappearing just as quickly. Thankfully Violet was sitting on the icy rocks, not standing or in any danger of falling.
Making his way over to her, he saw another ball of ghostly fire floating over the corpse. Making him wonder if she could see them as well or if she just wanted to be helpful.
"Well spotted but let me teach you something." He said, gently chucking his torch down into the little ravine. From the white snow, over a dozen white worms exploded from the snow. Ravenously throwing themselves onto the torch with wild abandon. "Violet, I want you to go back towards the gate. To the fountain on the left, it should be safe there. Can you do that?"
Violet bit her lip but didn't object. Only nodding with determination. Shimming her way down the icy rock and making her way back where they came. Only stopping to throw him one last look before he jumped.
Crushing two of them under his boots, he raised his sword as they harmlessly bounced against his aura. Each jump was rewarded with a swift chop that split them apart. It took seconds before every worm was dead. Kneeling down beside the corpse, a worm exploded out of the corpse. Mandible's biting down onto his aura as the worm gave him a view into its mouth. A dozen sharp teeth, poking at his eye in vain.
Grabbing the worm by its neck, he crushed it until it's head was nothing but mush. Throwing it over his shoulder like the trash it was before continuing to search the corpse. Finding a radial blood gemstone under its tongue. "Maybe I should give it to Violet, after teaching her how to slot them." He murmured under his breath, quickly standing up and making his way up to the fountain.
While the gem radiated strength, it was a waning sort. The gem he had slotted on Crocea Mors while not multitudes stronger, were at least excluding a lasting sort of strength. Not to mention he had already grown used to it and he didn't feel particularly keen on switching until he had more gems at hand.
Coming up from the little fallen area, Jaune smiled at Violet. Hidden behind a statue and peeking out at the creatures scruffling around behind the fountain. Her eyes lighting up while her shoulders fell, a bright smile on her lips before his words from earlier kicked in.
"What's my middle name." She demanded, catching herself. Her misericorde coming up aimed at his throat. Her body coiled to strike at any moment.
"Augustina." Jaune replied, not having forgotten. The tension in her shoulders disappearing as if never there. However instead of making her way towards him, she remained hidden behind the statue. Only peeking out and glaring at the bloodlickers scampering around the fountain.
"Bloodlickers, a type of beast that survives on consuming blood. Mostly blind and deaf, it hunts by tracking the smell of blood in the air." Jaune explained, not moving to join her behind the statue. Only going directly to the fountain, the bloodlickers remaining passive while he searched the corpse. In a side pocket he found two round glass vials with a mercy mist trapped inside. Rolling the glass vial around in his hand, the cloud inside rolled around, just like a real cloud.
Quickly pocketing them, he stood up and turned towards the bloodlickers. The closest sniffing the air with its crimson tongue, it's head jerking towards him. A hunger radiating off it as it jumped like a grasshopper. The sploshing of blood ringing out from the sack that sat on its crotch.
With quick and accurate steps, he stepped around it's lunge. Crocea Mors racing down its side and splitting it's entire left side open. Kicking the blood ballon like a soccer ball, it exploded like a piñata. Sending both bloodlickers into a frenzy of sorts, the wounded one charging at him without any sense of selfpreservation. Crocea Mors danced through the air, lobbing of its long tongue before cracking it's skull open just in time for him to sidestep the other bloodlicker. Smashing his knee it's its jaw, making it bite of its own tongue. A shriek left it, ending just as abruptly as it started with a quick downwards cleave.
Kicking it's deceptively human head, Jaune frowned as he pulled out his journal. "Note, bloodlickers manifest when people are put in a situation where they have no choice but to ingest blood orally to survive. Quickly mutating to fit their new diet." Pocketing his journal, he grabbed a handful of hair and stared into the bloodlickers glassy eyes. Growing more certain of his hypothesis. "Wendigo are created from cannibalism, bloodlickers from consuming nothing but blood. What would a person transform into if they only ate organs, or brains for that matter. What if they only ate bones?"
Knowing he was running down a dangerous tangent he sighed, choosing to instead place the head down onto the snow. Squeezing Violet's shoulder he shook his head before continued forward. Fishing out another glass bottle of mist and swirling it around in his hand.
He got five steps before sighing and pocketing it, a trio of beasts skulking about to the left while another of to the right. Sighing and giving his daughter a look to tell her to stay in place, he dashed to the left. The unsuspecting bloodlicker not reacting even as its head tumbled through the snow.
The smell of blood alerting the other bloodlickers. The closest one leaping into the air towards him, fully intent to squish him under its weight. Quickstepping to the side, he lunged straight at it the second it crashed into the snow. Placing all of his weight behind the thrust. Crocea Mors glinted from the other side of its ribcage. With a silent growl, Jaune stepped back, tearing his blade upward and almost splitting it in two.
With blood running down his face, he turned towards the last bloodlicker, it's blood sack protruding from its crotch larger than him. Pulling a throwing knife out of his vest, he threw it with all his might. Only nodding to himself when the sack popped like a pimple, spilling warm blood over the white snow. The bloodlicker screeching at him, colours of rage briefly coming to life in its eyes as it charged. Launching itself like a spear, long tongue shooting forward.
Placing his right foot solidly in the snow, Jaune made his profile as small as possible. Leaning the tiniest bit to the side to dodge the tongue but letting the bloodlicker impale itself on his blade. His right foot only digging further into the snow as its weight crashed into him. Even without bringing up his aura it was something he could withstand with ease.
Pulling his sword out of its mouth, he cracked it's skull just to be on the safe side. Bending down by the closest corpse, he quickly fished out another frenzied like coldblood. The best term he could come up with for the seemingly random movement the cloths of blood spasmed with. Violet creeping closer with unbound curiosity in her eyes as she crouched down beside him.
"What corpses do you know to search?" She asked as he pocketed the two cloths of coldblood and four more flasks of bottled mist.
"A rune, there is a tool in the workshop that allows us to inscribe runs into our souls." Jaune explained, deciding to give her the truth. "Souls are as unique as people, so not everyone is the same. Some can hold more runes, but can't hold strong runes, while some can only hold a single run but are able to wring every ounce of meaning and power out of it. We have some runes in the workshop, but I'm not comfortable inscribing a rune onto you, given the mediocre selection."
"Don't 'aww' me little lady." Jaune chided teasingly, shooting his daughter a smile. And wasn't that weird. Daughter. He wasn't sure when it began, but some time ago he had begun seeing Violet as his daughter. It was slightly terrifying; he wasn't capable or financially well off enough to be a teenage dad. But here he was. In the snowy courtyard of Cainhurst, with blood dripping of him and chiding his daughter for not doing something stupid. 'I do enough stupid things for eight.' He thought with a smile.
Standing up, they followed the path to the right. Some other bloodlickers scurrying about further down in another ravine, but he paid them no mind for now. They were mostly trapped and harmless while not provoked. They would die of course, but not yet. Unlike it's kin that lied dead at his feet. Having tried to camouflage itself behind a tree and jump them. It didn't go well.
With four more flasks of bottled mist to his name, he looked towards the large wooden door with a frown. He could have sworn it was locked just seconds ago. "Magic at play no doubt." He whispered under his breath. Letting his chest fall as they walked up the staircase. Carefully peeking his head into the castle proper, he frowned. The floors crystal clear, with some hunched over women still scrubbing them. The pillars seemingly fought to be surrounded by most candles, the flames casting warm light over the entre.
His boots echoed with every step on the pristine marble flooring, yet the cleaning women paid it no mind. Looking at them from afar, Jaune could see their fading spirits. The only thing left was a faltering zeal to keep the floor clean. Yet that zeal, the only thing pushing their empty husks along was faltering like a flame. With their gaunt skin and missing eye's, he was of half a mind to call them zombies. The only thing stopping him was their faint breathing, and the sound of a weak heart he could only hear if he channelled spirituality into his ears.
Carefully walking around them, he felt a coldness seep through him. A foreign force trying to make him drop his weapons.
"No." Jaune said simply, staunch determination shining in his eyes. Effortlessly bringing up his aura, he forcefully pushed the spirit out. Apathy and empathy warring in his eyes as a soundless shriek escaped the spirit, consumed by golden fire. "Push it out with your aura." His order was quickly followed by another shriek, this time burnt orange flames consumed the spectre.
Violet dashed to his side, panic in her eyes when a dozen of spectral women stepped out of nothing. Their wrists wrapped tightly together by solid coils of rope and their eyes were covered by multiple wraps of bandages. A thin line of crimson split open their necks, pearls of red drops trailing down and colouring their elegant ball gowns. In their hands they caried an ornamental dagger, the blades pointed towards them.
Reaching for his blade, the echo of leather shoes echoed out from the staircase like the tolling of a bell. In an instant the silver ladies shimmered away, disappearing as if never there.
"Welcome! Welcome-" A smooth baritone voice bounced off the walls. Down the stairs came an older gentleman. Resting a detailed metal helmet under his arm, it was eyeless, the filigree coming down into a beak. Dressed in and old timely constable uniform with a cloak of feathers reminiscent of a raven he cut a dashing and mysterious figure in the dim light. With a white imperial moustache, his high cheekbones and sharp chin made and immaculately groomed white hair, he stood out starkly compared to the common rabble found in Yharnam. He wore his wrinkles as a mark of pride, the crow's feet around his eyes only enhancing the aristocratic grace that clung to him. Sharp blue eyes scouring over them as he gave them a polite smile.
"-Do forgive my tardiness. A rather troublesome crow kept me occupied." He chuckled good naturally. His blue eyes quickly scrutinising them while he came down to the landing, something hard momentarily appearing in his eyes when his eyes landed on the golden pendant in his hand. Gone in the blink of an eye. However malice crept into his spirit, intensifying into a swarm of angry beasts that ran amok inside. "Oh, but where are my manners." He chuckled, falling into a gentlemanly courtesy. "You may call me Viscount Alric of Cainhurst, right hand of the Queen and an old hunter."
'Maybe seeing trough people aren't so bad. Certainly makes dealing with two faced people easier. Maybe I should go into politics?' Jaune thought to himself idly. "Jaune Arc. At your service." He introduced himself, falling back onto the etiquette lessons Gehrman beat into him. Gesturing at Violet, he gave her a little look as he introduced her. "This is Violet Gascoigne, my apprentice."
While his daughter bowed, Jaune took the time to inspect the man before him. Not liking how his spirit flared with newfound purpose the second he properly looked at Violet. It wasn't something carnal, it was a mixture of zeal and twisted loyalty fuelled by love. Thankfully not directed at Violet, not that it made Jaune any less concerned. Knowing that the worst deeds in history all came from a place of love.
"Arc, a noble name." The Viscount replied with a polite smile, rolling the r around in his mouth as if to taste the name on his tongue. "An outsider I take it?" He asked with a rained eyebrow. Continuing on without giving him a chance to answer. "No commoner in Yharnam would dare brandish a weapon with such a crest upon it. Neither is it a crest I have seen before. Came here for healing I reckon?"
"I'm afraid my family's glory days have long since passed." Jaune chuckled, completely ignoring the inquisitive question.
"That did not answer my question. If not for healing, then why did you come to our fair city?" The Viscount asked with an inquisitive if polite tone. Placing a hand on the handrail and slowly walking down the rest of the staircase. Never taking his eyes of Jaune as he frowned slightly. Creasing the wrinkles around his eyes into blades. "If you came in search of glory, or is it women you warrior types desire nowadays? I'm afraid you will find little of both here."
"People needed help." Jaune replied softly. "I heard rumours of a plague and beasts, so I came against my parent's wishes." He answered truthfully. Knowing fully well his mother would call an exorcist, baby proof the house, and have him under indefinite house arrest if she ever found out about his semblance. She meant well, it was just that she tended to be a bit smothering in her love.
"Ah~ to be young and idealistic." Alric sighed, a smile spreading itself on his lips. "You answered the Queen's summons's did you not? I see no other way for you to pierce the blasphemers veil otherwise."
"That I did." Jaune said politely. "Truly, it has been something that have been burning a hole in my pocket recently. One doesn't simply refuse a summon from Royalty after all. I have heard more than one horror story of those who did. All true of course. And as for dinner, that sounds lovely. Please lead the way."
"Then you will find Castle Cainhurst happily willing to share our generosity with you for as long as you are a guest at the castle. Or until your untimely demise, whatever do come first. New hunter's do measure their life expectancy in minutes and hours after all. And the night is still young." The Viscount smiled sharply. "However, why don't we move further into the castle? I'm sure the cooks should have finished decking the tables when we arrive. Unfortunately, as much as it pains me to say, our entre have seen better days. There exists another more ceremonial way into the castle trough the docks. However, I'm afraid you will find only cinders there. We will have to take a shortcut over the rampart and trough the library. I do hope it won't taint your impression of us."
"And thank you for the warning, I will take it to heart." Jaune said, hand coming up in a habitual gesture to scratch his neck. It must have made him look boyish, naive, a boy playing at a man's game. The tenseness in Alric's shoulder's disappearing, his eyes crinkling in delight. Jaune cared little about what he thought, the phantom pain of teeth around his throat having long since made him graduate from the innocent days of boyhood.
"Then please follow me." Alric smiled politely, turning with a flourish. Electricity racing through the atmosphere as Jaune's fingers brushed by his blade. Not willing to risk Violet, he stayed his hand. Instead smiling down at his apprentice. Taking her hand in his. Out in the corner of his eye, he saw the Viscount tightening the grip on his sabre, only from him to relax.
"Don't go running of now." He chided as they walked up the staircase. The electric air disappearing as if never there. Sending her a little wink, Violet nodded somewhat unsurely. Clearly uncomfortable with both the Viscount and the abrupt change of pace. Her eyes constantly switching between sending the Viscount scrutinising glares and looking behind them for the ghosts. Squeezing her hand gently, he let his eyes wander to old mirrors, and any other reflective surface they hid in. Making sure to remember chests and floating ghost balls.
"What do you think of our great city so far? It is truly one of a kind." The Viscount asked when they came up the staircase.
"It is beautiful. The people not so, but they grow on you. Like a bad rash that won't go away." Jaune snarked. Not missing the way amusement fluttered in Alric's spirit for a faint moment.
"If I hadn't known better, I would have thought you have been here for years." The Viscount chuckled, shaking his head and giving a gentlemanly smile. "How goes your hunt? You will find Yharnam's beast are of a different sort. Truly, did you know the Church tried to hide the existence of them. Such shamelessness."
"You are saying that like the first reaction for any ruling institution isn't deny, deflect, compromise." Jaune rolled his eyes. Not missing the subtle glare the Viscount sent him. "Control is the name of the game when it comes to people like that. If you try to go against the status quo, you fill find they are quick to declare you an enemy of state. Should you try to go against the ruling class, you will suddenly find the walls closing around you. But now that you mention it, who rules Yharnam? The Church is a pillar of power; however it is a healing institution first and foremost. So that begs the question, who is actually in charge of the city?"
"A healing institution? Oh you jest. The Church is anything but who they portray themselves as. They are a church in name only, if you dare to do a little digging, you will find they are anything but sacred. They don't even worship the blood they freely spread and preach about. Their so-called god is science. And you will find, in the eyes of the healing church, every man, woman, and child in Yharnam is an unknowing experiment." The Viscount explained, something dark falling over him for a moment. "Now, unfortunately we will have to brave the cold. But I see it will be of no problem for the little missus."
The cold winds raced through the abandoned dinner hall. In the dim light it was easy to gloss over the tarnish on the silver eating utilities as just that, tarnish. But tarnish didn't look like violently splathered blood. 'They were attacked in the night, or evening, when they were eating.' Jaune theorised. Throwing a quick glance at a silver goblet, seeing how they were surrounded by ghosts. If he didn't know better, he would say there were more around them now than when they had first sat foot into the entre.
Snow crunched under their boots as they walked out onto the open balcony. The biting chill wasn't that bad, the most uncomfortable thing was the rapid cooling of his bloodied sleeves. Yet he played up the chill, if only to not raise the Viscount' suspicions. Loudly clattering his teeth and shooting him a glare.
"Why all the statues?" Jaune asked curiously, the statues in the garden nothing compared to the literal maze on top the rampart's. Most depicted men and women in all forms and fashions, where some women were dressed in more finery than he owned while some men were completely naked, or vice-versa. There really wasn't a semblance of order to the statues, they looked to be the work of a mad prodigy high out of his mind and caught between a hundred different types of inspirations. "Some look alive even." He complimented, not knowing if he should look at the statue of a tall woman holding a sword over her head with a scale in her free hand, or if he should look at the misshapen creature resting on her neighbours shoulder.
"The work of Ser Douglas. Quite the skilled sculptor won't you say." The Viscount replied with a polite smile. "He was the Queen's royal painter. And as such he served as the funeral sculptor as well. Sadly he too passed away before he could finish."
"Is that a tradition in Cainhurst? Sculpting a statue of the deceased?" Jaune asked, running his eyes over the white courtyard. Not finding a single speck of blood on the white snow. From above he could just barely make out the erratic movements of the bloodlickers, only the rare flash of crimson standing starkly out over the backdrop of white.
"You would be correct. Instead of being laid to rest under the ground as you might be more familiar with. In Cainhurst a statue is carved in your honour." Alric smiled, a softness that coulndt be smiled falling over him. "But let us not dwell on such gloomy topics. You are a welcomed guest. We can't have you leave with such a dreary outlook on our clan."
'That it is you will let me leave at all.' Jaune thought grimly, already knowing how this evening was going to end. A limping thrall with rapier in hand simpered after them when they stepped into the portcullis. Coming to a stop and bowing when they left.
"Here is our grand library. If some titles do catch your eyes, you are more than free to browse. However, simply writing them down would be enough. A thrall will bring them to your guest quarters later." The Viscount explained politely. Flashing a kind smile as he led them into the library with fast but measured strides.
The door slammed closed behind them, a hundred different candles sprang to life, washing the room in a gentle light. A warmth was in the air together with a scent of books with a faint hint of mould. The coagulating blood on his sleeves turning into a special type of moist that was both wet, slush and ice at the same time.
Following their host trough the towering bookshelves, his eyes drifted casually over the titles. "History of Cainhurst Castle, The science of bread, Divinity – Names and titles of Gods of yore, Blood and It's effects, A Brief Summary of the Tragedy of Queen Yharnam. And of course, the classic, How to Pick up Fair Maidens. Quite a varied collection you have here." He complimented, quickly burning the names of some other titles into his mind. Finding 'Divine Pact's and the power of Divinity and Blood combined' to be particularly interesting.
"Yes, it's quite impressive, isn't it? Here you can find whatever you desire, from the writings of prodigies, fantastic works of fiction, poetry that will make even the toughest man break down and cry. We even have some old tomes we worked on transcribing. Knowledge is power after all, and we of Cainhurst have always been drawn to knowledge." Alric chuckled, shaking his head and running his hand over a desk. "However, as interesting our tomes no doubt are, let us not waste more time than necessary with them. Just down the staircase here, and we will find ourselves in the grand hall proper. It is the first time in the Clan's long legacy that a vicar has been invited after all. A special moment indeed."
'One where my demise is the highlight no doubt.' Jaune had to stop himself from snarking. The Viscount's poisonous politeness beginning to grow tiring. "I never got to ask, why do you hunt? It's so easy to say, 'I hunt beasts', but that doesn't answer the why?" Jaune asked, making idle conversation. His heart starting up like an old card engine. Pumping scalding hot blood trough his veins.
Catching his tongue, Alric had to breathe out. Something pensive flashing trough his eyes as he continued to lead them through the library and into a spiralling staircase.
"For a better future. A hope of tomorrow for my clan. To right the wrongs done against us. Take your pick, vicar." The words bounced off the walls, echoing with a macabre undertone. "If you used your eyes, you would find that a tragedy has befallen our clan. One orchestrated by the church you lead no less. Know that I speak cordially to you, for the simple reason that I am of proper breeding. Unlike those low born curs you call your executioners." Jaune had never heard a word spoken with such venom, yet he didn't interrupt the man. Only rising an eyebrow while Alric hissed. "You will find I offer you hospitality out of guest rights, and nothing more. Many of my fallen kin wouldn't hesitate to split your lowborn neck open. Everything I do, have done, and will do, all have been in the betterment of my people. So tell me Vicar, what about you? Can you say the same? Why do you hunt?"
"To right a wrong." Jaune answered without fear or hesitation. Running a thumb over the golden locket. "And for that I'm looking for a man called Provost Willhelm."
"To right a wrong. Noble words for a man with so much blood on his hands. If it had only been that simple." The Viscount smiled sharply, only giving him a sharp glare as he continued down the spiralling staircase. "That's a dangerous road to be walking. You do your church justice, if there is anything like justice left in the world. Maybe what terrible legacy the church will leave behind will be dampened by your deeds. Yet, I do find that frighteningly unlikely."
"But, even if it is unlikely, I still have hope." Jaune replied calmly. Determination radiating from his very being. "Are you not the same? Is it not hope that drives you? Hope for a better tomorrow for your clan?"
Placing his hand on a wooden door at the bottom of the staircase, the Vicar took a deep breath. Hate colouring his spirit a disgusting seething red. "Duty. It wouldn't surprise me if a lowborn such as yourself have no concept of the word."
With that he led them into the grand hall. Beautiful marble tiles, with velvet carpets, a beautiful burning hearth. The hall was as large as Beacon's cafeteria, if not larger. With grand chandelier's made from the most beautiful of crystal lining the sealing. Grand velvet curtains fell before the gothic windows. The moon's gentle rays peeked through the curtains, making the marble stones looked like the finest white.
Peeling off a white glove, the Viscount threw it at his feet. Spiting at it for added effect. "Do you accept? Or do you want me to explain cur? It wouldn't surprise me for a lowborn not to understand."
"To the death I take it?" Jaune shrugged, rolling his shoulders and letting go of Violet's hand. Frowning when she kept a stonelike grip. Without hesitation, he tore his hand free and bashed a fist into her face. The illusions shattering, revealing stone grey skin and bloody eyes. Before the gargoyle could react, he wrapped a hand around its throat and tore it's neck open.
"I was beginning to wonder when you would notice." The Viscount smirked, running a gentle finger over his helmet. Giving him one last glare as he slipped it on. "You must think little of us. Your accursed Church are not the only ones capable of using Arcana. While I find illusions to be unsavoury, they do have their uses."
"So you have chosen death then." Jaune spoke clearly, slowly drawing Crocea Mors. A terrible scream echoed out as the blade came out of the scabbard. From the handle a scalding heat that boiled his blood radiated from his companion.
"No my friend, it was you who chose death the moment you sat foot on Cainhurst Ground." The Viscount replied, venom creeping into his voice. "However. I do have to thank you. With how vigorous your blood is, the dregs in your blood will undoubtedly be of special quality. Maybe just what the Queen needs to conceive. Ironic isn't it. That our sworn enemy would be the one to give the key to our prosperity." A thankful tone to his voice the entire time. "And-" he continued, his voice taking on a sickly sweetness. "-should the Queen be unable to perform her divine duties, you brought a spare, didn't you?"
"I'm afraid I can't allow you to do that." Jaune replied calmly. 'And I rather not find out what happens should my heart be ritually sacrificed.' Taking a calming breath, he clacked his left molars together twice.
In a split second the world crashed into focus, his already boiling blood catching fire. Adrenaline raced through him, fuelled by his protective fury and a ravenous wrath that painted his vision red.
"Now there's the monster." The Viscount said with a sickly sweat voice. Settling down into a draw stance, eagerness falling of him in great waves.
Blinking, Jaune bent over backwards. The sabre passing right over his nose. Exploding to the side, he spun and charged backwards. Chasing after the bloody crow.
#####
A silent scream escaped Violet as she trashed in her captors stony grips. One moment she was walking with her dad and the Viscount, the next second she had been replaced by a statue and was dragged through the freezing air. No matter how much she struggled the stony gargoyles didn't let her go.
With a snarl, the world turned blue. Her semblance washing over her, giving clarity and a way out. Throwing her legs backwards, she flexed her stomach until it screamed and slammed her feet into the stone gargoyles faces. Her aura enhanced kicks didn't destroy them, yet Violet felt a split second where they lost their grip.
But that was all she needed. With another soundless scream, she pulled her arms out of their stony fingers. Blinking as gravity took hold of her, pulling her down faster and faster. Smashing through the clouds she felt in awe for a moment. The Castle was gigantic. Larger than the Academy by a milestone. Bringing up her aura and blinking the tears away, she saw where they came from. Her stomach sinking when it was on the other side of the island.
Looking down, the ground was rapidly approaching. Closing her eyes and trying her best not to spin out, she crashed feet first onto wood. Splitters exploding around her as she crashed through multiple floors, spinning her wildly out of control until she crashed face first into solid stone. Even with her aura up, the impact knocked the air out of her lungs. Tears welled up in her eyes as she fought back the urge to puke or scream in pain.
Instead forcing herself up on shaking legs, holding her misericorde before her in defence. It was pitch black, what moonlight lighting up the room disappearing behind a cloud and leaving her stranded in darkness. Panic raced through her, on reflex she fell back on her semblance, her vision turning blue. It didn't help against the darkness, but it fought against her panic. And for that she would be forever grateful.
Knowing she coulndt stay in one place for too long, she carefully tiptoed to the side. Making sure she didn't make a single sound.
Ice raced through her veins; her breath came out in panted breaths as she waited for what hid in the darkness to attack her. The cloud moved, and for a moment moonlight washed through the hole. Revealing that her dad's coat was caught on a wooden beam. Quickly looking over the cellar she found herself in, she breathed easily when she didn't see any beast or monsters. Instead only an unnerving picture and some barrels shared the space with her.
Mind awash with ideas, her eyes darted to her fathers cloak. 'Inner pocket, to the left.' She remembered, having seen her dad pull out his pocket lantern from there time and time again. Patting it down, she ignored his journal, pipe, and the bloody cleaning cloth he kept at him. Instead grabbing the lantern with all her might. Tapping it, shaking it, whispering at it, her panic growing as darkness washed over her again.
"Why won't it light?" Violet grumbled desperately, the blue flashing around her eyes. Her growing panic and desperation fighting against her semblance. Snapping her fingers, just like she had seen her dad do multiple times, nothing happened. "Is there something more to it? A secret trick?" She hissed, going back to searching her dad's coat. Praying that he at least carried some matched on himself.
Instead of finding any matches, she found something she was much more familiar with. A molotov. Throwing the hand lantern over her shoulder, she grabbed the biggest stick she could find. Pulling out the cloth and wrapping it around the head before pouring all the oil on it. "I hope this works." She muttered under her breath, swiping the makeshift torch over the floor, an exited cry escaping her when the wick caught fire.
Light returned to the cellar. With a smile of relief, she hurriedly looked around. Instantly grabbing three other torches from a barrel. Not having seen them in the moonlights earlier dim light. Pulling her dad's cloak from under the beam, she gave the cellar one last look. Seeing nothing else in the cellar, she quickly ascended the staircase. Glad she hadn't crashed into it.
The house she found herself in was thankfully deserted. It had to be, given her rather bombastic entrance, yet that didn't make her any less grateful. The Viscount had sent shivers down her spine, something had just tickled her wrong. It didn't help that she had just had a ghost try possessing her. Placing a hand over her heart, she felt her dad's love and protection surge gently.
Knowing she didn't have time to dwell over how her dad had protected her again, she snuck around. Finding the door, she gently pushed it open, heart caught in her throat as it screamed. Not wanting to be a sitting duck, she kicked the door open and darted out.
A salty breeze kicking her in the face. Still smouldering ruins surrounding what could only be the harbourmasters house greeted her. Masts of sunken ships peeked out from the inky waters further down. Even the dock wasn't spared, only some floating pieces of wood tied by rope indicated that a dock had been there in the first place. The wooden pillars gone.
She didn't have to go long to find them. A wet groan caught her attention. Lifting her head, she looked up to find over a hundred breaking wheels. Foul things she had heard her Father warn her about. Wheels where men, women, and even some children had been tied to before having all their bones broken pushed to the sky by tall pillars of wood to have crows feast on them.
Ice raced down her spine, throwing a look back to the dock, she could see a man walking over the water of in the distance. A line of blood guiding him, an executioners wheel on her shoulder, and a golden cone on his head.
Knowing she coulndt stay here, Violet looked around and ran. Swallowing, she darted into the forest of breaking wheels. Looking up at the castle, trying to remember what she had seen while falling. Already knowing where her dad was when a row of windows exploded out, sending pieces of glass racing trough the air. Tongues of fire licking out the window.
With renewed determination she sprang with all the might she could.
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Note: With how much it's said the Vileblood revel in their use of blood. I coulndt help but add it to everything.
Note: I wanted to try my hand at something Dracuale-esque with the Bloody crow always being polite and gentlemen. But that plan went straight to hell when I introduce Jaune's spirit vision some dozen chapters ago. So I ended up with something akin to the wolf leading the wolf, both already planning to kill the other.
Note: Now that Jaune have begun to really grow int himself, Yharnam isn't its usual terrifying safe. It's like on Ng+ or starting a new game after completing the first play trough. Much of the mystique and unerringness have disappeared. And since I don't want to throw him into Yharaghul yet, Violet's first steps as a hunter works as a great way to convey that fear and terror. Especially without the beacon of safety and skill that Jaune have become.