Intermission: He Wakes

Fire streaked through the skies, painting the wind with the smell of smoke, and as they floated far to the east, under the great stain glass arch doors and into the grand sarcophagus catching on the nostrils of something cold and petrified, they disturbed something that was better left, unwoken.__

Cracks formed in the stone, the grey pasture that had once been eyelid, sealed shut shifted open, the dust scattered down as the head shifted in the grand sarcophagus, and the eyes opened.

It was dark in here, reclusive, He enjoyed it... but... something was wrong.

How long had he slumbered? Where was the girl? skipped out again no doubt. He was a fool to allow her to twist him so, and yet...

What was that, to the west, the smell was so faint on the air, thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of miles away, but he wasn't so old as to have lost his ability.

The Bone cracked as he beckoned them to move, the ligaments crunching back to life as the heart pushed blood through the clotted veins, it took several seconds to reanimate, the stone of his skin and the dust bursting free as the long daggers tucked in lightly to his ashy palm, the golden ring clicking into the latch and twisting open the lock.

Those boney claws emerged into the cold air outside, carefully pushing open the grand door where it would make its exodus.

The creak of the hinges screamed in his ears, had nobody tended to his quarters in his absence?

Still, His brain was melting free of its petrification, and on narrow feet, He stepped unto the high podium of smooth obsidian and felt relief as his home wrapped him in its cold embrace.

Vibrations rustled his senses, the cool wind brushing the high battlements, show settling on the high towers, bodies dashing through the halls like blood through veins... He wondered if it was time to break his fast? no... the year was early, what was the date? where was the girl?

_"G'lattaz thi'iris..." _His voice was low and croaky, that of a tone not used in many years.

...His summons was met only with silence.

_"G'lattaz Thi'iris, saal." _He called... what was this outrage, that He had to call a second time?

The Castle shimmered and the great iron doors to his chamber rattled open. forms zipped at the foot of podium's stairway, heads bowed and knelt low as he peered down at them, One Black a night, another adorned in shredded amber cloth, and the third shone of brilliant ivory... and the last, standing with her head low.

"Have you.... not ears to listen?" He spoke in the tongue of the dead "Have you.... not eyes to see?" His legs stiffly travelled down the podium a slow, tired shamble as He raised his gnarled hand, making their head bow lower "Have you.... not tongues to speak?"

"Highest apologies, Maiestatea voastră." The Black whispered as not to offend his sensitive ears.

"Our insubordination warrants punishment, Maiestatea voastră" The Silver conquered.

The Amber was silent, but her ashen form touched the marble floor in reverence.

His eyes like needles pierced into the Maroon of his ward. "And what of you? what... of the one... who abandoned... her rightful place... when I had.... forbidden it?" His voice echoed in every direction as if the castle spoke through his mighty tone.

But the Maroon's head arose from its place and eyes like emeralds kissed away his fury "Do you thirst, Comoara mea?" She asked in a tone gentle as snowfall.

He frowned but took the last step and considered the Crimson maiden with curious eyes. "No. My fast, must not yet be broken. The Winds have carried an oddity to me, It will be seen and explained thusly. This is my command."

The Crimson maiden did not disregard his commands, under any circumstances, and yet, at this request, she seemed hesitant.

His shadow approached from behind, appearing from the mists that crept through the doors, which flew open at his gesture, the length of his claw gently pushing aside the water full of black blood that was her hair.

"This, is my command." He whispered into her ear, and she turned to him, smiling sweetly as honey.

"As you wish, Comoara mea" Her obedience had returned, and she appeared at the balconies edge to see beyond the veil of reality.

He lingered and inspected his charges, the three remaining low, unable to meet his gaze. Beckoning with a methodical gesture, the Silver stood and appeared before him, her stance tight, eyes planted to the ground until he bid her worthy to look upon him "Be at ease. My Flower. Speak to me, of the duration of my rest."

Her body was released from his covetous restriction and her eyes rested gratefully on his "12 days, 6 months and 8 years to the mortal calendar, Your slumber began at the harvest moon, are you famished? or perhaps peckish, maybe I should call for a servant, or of course, I am yours to use at your leisure, Maiestatea voastră?"

He smiled, she smelt of rosewood and cold steel, a clinical and unfeeling thing, ever loyal "No, I will discover the source of this grotesque disturbance, and then I will speak with my strigga alone."

"We are forever your servants, Master." She whispered.

"Does his Majesty have any more use for us?" The Black had spoken. The Silver turned with **** in her eyes.

"HOW DARE YOU SPEAK, WITHOUT LEAVE."

He raised a silencing hand and knelt by the Black's side, raising her soft chin, the Pitch dark of her orbs resting on him as she smiled "You were long missed, dear Knight." He whispered.

"As were you, Miṭhē rājē." She replied.

The Silver looked furious but contained it in her silver brow.

He took her hand and pulled her to her feet "Confer with the Lords, we will hold council this night."

"As You command, Maiestatea voastră." She bowed before vanishing before his eyes, such a vision, He was fond of that one.

"You may take your leave." The Silver grimaced as He peered at her.

"Will... I have... nothing tonight?" she asked with the voice of mouse, though not even the smallest and quietest of vermin could not evade his power.

The Shadows darkened, swallowing the light and crushing the room in dread, infusing the Silver with terror "Take. Your. Leave."

Shimmering at the horror of his potential wrath, she bowed "Da, Maiestatea voastră." And just like that, she had gone, and the shadows retreated. His hand reached down to the last, stroking at the hem of her helm. she quaked in delight, cooing lowly.

"The things I taste on the air, are troubling, Dog... I am wrought with temptation." The Iron of her helm pushed against his shin in a fearful affection. "If the winds speak true, then Your bite may be needed." His words were venom even more toxic than the things.

What a despicable little it was, but its power was unrivalled "Hmmm, back to your kennel, be prepared to heed my call."

It panted happily and vanished with the breeze.

He peered to the balcony, where she stood, palms clasped over her eyes as she looked into the cosmos.

He did not stand on the balcony but lingered in the great archway, as she lowered her hands and turned to him curtly. "Flame, Comoara mea... the flame of accursed one."

The deepest and most evils aura arose from him then "Come here."

She hesitated. "Comoara mea..."

"Come. Here." He repeated, for the third time today. Disgusting. Her body appeared before him and she hid her face, wrought with shame. "Do you dare think that You can hide anything from me? Nothing is hidden from me."

"Valerica hid from you."

His skin became white as ice, flames burning in his ancient eyes "Why do you vex me? You know that a punishment will be in good order?"

"Do you fear the name so thoroughly as to try and strike it from my memory? and what of Rosaria? She has been silent for many a year, her time to return draws closer by the hour, but you scream over scents on the wind?

I am Majesty of the Dead just as You, and I will be treated with respect." She spoke with his voice, a hereditary power.

He lent down, an avalanche pressing into her body "You are an autumn leaf, falling from a dead tree. A cube of ice melted by the summer sun, You are as the dust that settles on the hem of my brow when I sleep. You, are, nothing." The Whisper cut into her, and she closed her eyes as the pain of his words slashed her to pieces.

"I do not hide in a decrepit box, like a coward." Malice? He had not heard malice in her tone for many an age.

"Who possesses the flame? Who did you see? what are you hiding?" He pressed harder, but she never broke. "Your ****--"

She tore open the breast of her emerald gown, the rubies set in its collar exploding to the ground as she revealed her pale chest to him and spoke calmly "Do it.... Do. It." She tempted. "Do it."

The Shadows receded, and He smiled "I feel very awake. we will have time to discuss this at length... Get out of my sight."

She held his gaze with a fierce eye, and marched away at a human pace, each footstep and insult.

One with the Fires of the sun then? One with the flame once held by his father. an accursed thing. and standing in that archway, peering out into the night, King Alucard's white lips arched into a knowing smile.