Castlevania: Lisa's Last Words

Chapter 15
Necromancy

Beth witnessed the decisive blow, her gaze fixed upon the fallen vampire as Dracula severed her head from her body. The look in the vampire's eyes reminded Beth of her mother's peaceful expression when she went to the sky. "Is she okay now?" Beth asked, her voice tinged with innocence. "Mom said people who go to the sky are okay forever." Her gaze lingered on the spot where the vampire lay, a poignant reminder of the transience of life.

Dracula hesitated, unsure how to respond. He doubted Beth's mother had phrased it quite so simplistically, but he refrained from correcting her. "I don't know, child," he admitted, his voice laced with a hint of uncertainty. The mysteries of the afterlife were beyond his comprehension, a realm even Death himself couldn't fully grasp. Though Dracula could summon souls from beyond the veil, they remained tight-lipped about their experiences in the great beyond.

Shaking his head, Dracula surveyed the cabin, taking in the destruction wrought by the vampire. The skeletal servants lay in pieces, their remains scattered about the room. Normally, he could raise them anew, but as he focused his will... nothing happened. His powers over the darkness had vanished, a development that defied all logic. Even a bishop could harness the forces of darkness with the right knowledge! What could be the cause of this sudden impotence?

Beth's voice broke the spell of his confusion. "Mr. Dracula? You said holy magic could beat that vampire, right?" Her eyes sparkled with an eager light, her anticipation palpable. "Can you show me how to do that?" Dracula's gaze met hers, and for a moment, he was taken aback by the unbridled enthusiasm shining in her blue eyes, twinkling like stars on a clear night.

Dracula sighed, his expression a mixture of regret and resignation. "I cannot, child. Vampires such as I cannot wield holy magic. I would be a poor teacher on that subject." He acknowledged, his voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "However, there is much else I can teach, if you possess the gift for magic." As a Belmont, it was likely that Beth inherited the ability to harness holy magic, but her aptitude for other forms of magic remained uncertain. The Belmonts had indeed infused their bloodline with magical abilities, but the specifics of this legacy remained a mystery to Dracula.

Beth's eyes widened momentarily, before her face brightened with an unperturbed smile. "Oh, okay!" She pondered for a moment, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Then can I try the Dark Arts thing? What was it you said..." Her voice dropped to a whisper, attempting to mimic Dracula's deep, resonant tone. "I, Dracula, Son of the Devil, call upon thee..." The effect was almost comical, as her natural quiet and meek voice struggled to emulate the Dark Lord's bombastic inflection. "Um... then what was it...?"

Dracula couldn't help but chuckle at Beth's valiant effort to imitate him, her attempt at a menacing tone falling endearingly short. As she faltered, Dracula stepped forward, a gentle smile on his face. "Hold, child, that is not the way." He placed the skull of a skeleton at her feet, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief. "Most forms of magic involve exerting one's will upon the world and giving it form. However, the Dark Arts differ. In this case, you are forming a contract with the soul you summon to reanimate the body."

"The words you speak do not matter, with one exception. You must state your own name to form the contract. Upon which a soul that is interested in following your command will return from the netherworld. Once they have, they will be bound to your will and will follow your commands for as long as the skeleton can function," Dracula elucidated, his explanation flowing effortlessly, a testament to his familiarity with the Dark Arts.

"Okay!" Beth gazed down at the skull at her feet, her determination evident. "Um... I'm Beth. Is there anyone out there that wants to help me?" she asked, her voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty. "Please make this skeleton move." Beth's eyes glazed over as she focused on the skull, her will exerting itself upon the world. The shattered remnants of the skeleton, even those reduced to mere grains, began to coalesce, drawn to their proper places by some unseen force. The bones rattled as the skeleton stood up once again, its empty eye sockets fixed upon Beth, its new master.

Beth, however, couldn't appreciate the sight. "Mr. Dracula...? I feel... really, really tired..." she stammered, her voice weakening. Dracula moved swiftly to catch her as she collapsed, her eyes half-lidded and still glazed over. "Are you there, Mr. Dracula? I... I'm sorry... did I do it?" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Why do I feel so bad?" she moaned, her stomach churning with a sickening exhaustion that left her without the strength to even retch.

Dracula nodded and smiled down at the girl, his expression warm and encouraging. "Yes, you did. It was well done." He glanced at the skeleton, which stood patiently, awaiting its new master's commands. "Do not concern yourself. You simply overused your mana. You are young for Dark Arts such as this." Dracula lifted Beth and placed her on her bed, his movements gentle and solicitous. "With practice and training, your capacity will increase, and such paltry spells will become simple for you." He covered her with a soft blanket and smiled, his eyes gleaming with a hint of pride.

"You will always be safe so long as I am here—" Dracula attempted to reassure Beth, but his words were cut short by a sudden epiphany that struck him with the force of a galloping steed. "Sleep, we will continue your training the next night." His words fell on deaf ears, as Beth had already succumbed to slumber. Dracula placed a hand on her forehead, feeling her pulse through her skin, and was comforted by the steady rhythm before retreating to the cellar mere minutes before dawn's arrival.

Had Dracula not planned around his newfound weakness, Beth's safety would have been compromised. His powers over the darkness had been waning for some time, though the cause eluded him. His strength, powers, and senses were all diminished, rendering a vampire like the one he had faced a formidable foe. Seated in his chair, Dracula pondered the source of this decline, wondering if the darkness itself was rejecting him.

"Death." Dracula's worry was momentarily alleviated when his old friend appeared, Death's ethereal images coalescing into a single, solid form. Dracula would have normally chastised the reaper for such theatrics, but his concerns were too pressing.

"Yes, my Master?" Death bowed before Dracula, his presence a comforting constant in these uncertain times. Dracula scrutinized Death, searching for any signs of anomaly, but found none. The reaper's familiar presence was a balm to his troubled mind.

However, Dracula needed to attend to pressing matters. "Death, has anything become of the castle?" he inquired, his mind momentarily preoccupied with the possibility that his waning powers might be a consequence of Castlevania's downfall. Yet, he knew that scenario to be unlikely, as he would have sensed any such destruction.

"The Belmont Richter returned to the castle seeking you, but found nothing, as there was nothing to be found. Otherwise, the castle has been quiet," Death reported, his voice devoid of emotion. "Is there something amiss, my Lord? You seem... distressed." Death said.

Dracula sat in contemplative silence, his thoughts swirling as he pondered how much to reveal to his oldest subordinate. Death's patience was eternal, but Dracula chose not to keep him waiting unnecessarily. "My dark powers are fading," he declared, opting for blunt honesty. "I am no longer superior to a typical vampire of my age. In fact, my powers over the souls of the dead and hellfire have all but vanished."

As Death deliberated a response, Dracula awaited his insight. Death's knowledge of the dead and undead was unmatched, even by the Dark Lord himself. "Master, Castlevania remains untouched, and I sense no injuries or blessings that could be suppressing your powers. By my reckoning, your power remains as great as it ever was." Death admitted. "One's state of mind strongly influences their abilities. Your state of mind may have shifted, causing you to lose control over your dark powers. Perhaps, on some level, you are actively rejecting the darkness?"

Dracula considered this possibility and concluded that it was plausible. His power had been gradually declining for some time. He raised his hand, focusing on summoning the elemental powers of typical mages: fire, lightning, ice, water, wind... Only fire proved difficult to conjure with ease. "Perhaps. I have found the Void rather tiresome of late, which is why I chose this holiday."

Dracula pondered his next course of action, his mind clouded by the uncertainty of his diminished powers. A threat could emerge at any moment, imperiling Beth, and despite his remaining strength and skill, he felt less assured in his ability to counter such dangers. The recent encounter with the vampire had been a fortunate triumph, owed in part to his opponent's foolhardy confidence.

Dracula sighed, resigned to making the most of his circumstances. "What I have will have to be enough," he decided, his voice laced with a hint of determination. "Return to the castle."

Death nodded, but lingered, his curiosity piqued. "Forgive me, Master, but I must ask: was your search successful? Did you find the reincarnation?"

Dracula's response was succinct. "Yes." He felt a sense of trepidation about exposing Beth to Death, whose presence could prove unsettling, even fatal, to mortals of weaker will. Though her Belmont heritage would likely protect her, prudence demanded caution. "I will send her to you, should anything befall me. Dismissed."

Death nodded and vanished, his departure less dramatic than his arrival. When Beth next awoke, there would be much to discuss, plans to be made, and contingencies to be considered. Though Dracula hoped such preparations would prove unnecessary, wisdom dictated preparedness.