Castlevania: Lisa's Last Words

Chapter 5: Soul Searching

Count Dracula once again took to the nocturnal skies, his heart weighed down by the prospect of revisiting a place he had sought to expunge from his memory. The village where Lisa had met her tragic demise was the first to suffer the brunt of his crusade against humanity, leaving naught but ashes and devastation in its wake.

Despite the passage of four centuries, Dracula had no difficulty locating the remnants of the village, guided by a magical sigil that led him to the spot where Lisa's body had been laid to rest. He had attempted to revive her, but her soul had long since passed into the great beyond, leaving behind a hollow shell, a mere facsimile that could never truly be revived.

The area, once laid waste by his wrath, had been reclaimed by nature, with long grass, vines, and plants covering the ruins. The few remaining tombstones and the blasted remnants of the stone church stood as a testament to the destruction he had wrought. Dracula had cursed the land, ensuring that no human would ever find shelter there again.

As he walked among the ruins, any lingering desire to destroy humanity left him. He had no desire to revisit the ghosts of the past carnage, and instead, made his way directly to the buried stone tomb where Lisa's remains lay entombed. With a wave of his hand, the entrance opened, and he descended the steps, his heart heavy with grief.

"I have returned, my love," he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. Opening the coffin, he gazed upon Lisa's charred remains, now little more than bones slowly turning to dust. For hours, he stood there, lost in happy memories, forever tainted by her loss.

The silence was palpable as Dracula stood vigil, his heart consumed by the weight of his memories. The flickering torches cast eerie shadows on the walls, their gentle dance a poignant reminder of the transience of life. The air was heavy with the scent of decay and forgotten dreams, a poignant reminder of the ravages of time. And yet, even in death, Lisa's presence still held sway over him, a bittersweet reminder of the bond they once shared.

At last, he found the will to speak, his voice barely above a whisper. "Forgive me, my love, for what I must do." He knew that only one could carry out what was required here. "Death," he called out, his voice echoing through the darkness, summoning the Grim Reaper himself.

As soon as Dracula spoke the name, Death appeared in a puff of smoke, his presence immediate and unmistakable. "My Master..." Death's voice trailed off as he took in the surroundings, his gaze settling on the tomb where Lisa's remains lay. He knew this place well, having directed its construction himself, a testament to his master's enduring love.

"Report. What of the castle?" Dracula asked, stalling for time, his mind heavy with the weight of his memories.

"All is quiet, my lord. No incursions have been made on the grounds," Death replied, his patience endless. He knew his master was avoiding the real reason for the summons, but he would not press the matter.

Dracula hesitated, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I must find her again." He finally admitted, turning to face Death, his eyes filled with a deep longing. "Chasing remnants of Lisa. You must think me a fool."

Death's expression was neutral, his voice devoid of judgment. "Not at all, Master. You're not the first nor will you be the last to wish to be with your loved one once more." He paused, his gaze piercing, his words a gentle rebuke. "I suppose this has to do with Adrian, Master?"

Dracula nodded, his eyes clouding over, his mind consumed by the memories of his beloved. "In part. Enough talk, let us begin." With a wave of his hand, Lisa's remains began to float, and Dracula gently placed them within the pentagram etched into the stone, the symbol of their eternal love.

Death began to speak the incantations, his voice low and hypnotic, but Dracula paid little attention, his mind focused on the ritual's purpose, his heart heavy with the weight of his memories.

Death's voice faltered, his expression regretful. "This... This will leave nothing behind, my Master." He confessed, his words a stark reminder of the ritual's cost, the price of their eternal love.

"Let it be done," Dracula said, knowing that this ritual could only be performed once. If it failed, finding Lisa's reincarnation would be almost impossible, but he vowed to himself, It matters not. I will find her again, one way or another, though millennia may pass.

Death nodded and completed the incantation. Lisa's remains were once again and for the last time engulfed in flames, purple flames which coalesced into a smaller, thicker purple flame with a blueish center, the symbol of their eternal love. The flame sustained itself without fuel, and at Death's command, it presented itself to Dracula. He cupped it in his hands, feeling a warm and inviting heat, though it did not burn him, a reminder of the enduring power of their love.

"I do not know when we shall meet again," Dracula said, his voice tinged with sadness, his heart heavy with the weight of his memories.

"In time, Master, we shall," Death replied rhetorically. "For what is time for beings such as us?" His words a poignant reminder of the enduring nature of their existence.

Dracula smiled, a rare sight, his eyes filled with a deep longing. Death had a way of cutting to the heart of the matter, a reminder that even in death, their love would endure. "Return to the castle and guard it as always. I may not grace it again for a very long time." His words are a testament to his love for Lisa, a love that would transcend even death itself.

Death nodded and vanished in a puff of smoke, obediently following his command as always. Dracula pondered requesting Death's accompaniment, but the castle required protection, and his affairs there demanded attention.

At his behest, the purple-bluish flame ascended into the air and swiftly departed. Dracula followed, assuming his imposing gray wolf form to pursue it. While he could manifest as anyone or anything he desired, his predilections lay with the bat, wolf, and mist forms. With unwavering determination, he burst forth from the tomb and hastened after the flame, his velocity far surpassing that of a normal wolf.

Had Dracula been attentive to his surroundings, he might have noticed the direction he was headed. However, his focus was solely on the flame, which led him back toward the village he had departed from the other night. As the village came into view on the horizon, he cursed his fortune. The flame proceeded unerringly toward the village, and Dracula was convinced that some higher power was playing a cruel joke on him. Death would not dare to, but destiny would not hesitate to mock the Count.