Chapter Text
The birds went quiet, their songs abruptly ending. The trees stopped the rustle of their leaves, and the animals, sensing the shift, retreated into the shadows, their eyes wide with a primal fear as they observed the group standing in uneasy silence.
A flutter of wings and piercing screeches broke the stillness. The animals scattered, scared of the bloodlust they sensed. Yet the woods watched on, a silent witness of what was to come.
From the night sky, a whirlpool of bats descended, spiralling downwards just above the ground. A large figure came into sight amongst them. He emerged with pointed ears, and eyes that glowed a deep red.
The temperature around them dropped.
The group shook and muttered. A large man held onto his whip tightly and tensed but the rest watched on warily.
‘Speak.’
An elderly man, clad in blue robes, flinched at the ancient voice but did not falter. ‘Thank you all for coming,’ he trembled slightly. ‘Your attendance is appreciated as I’m sure the journey here was troubling.’
‘If you mean getting hunted and almost killed, then troubling indeed.’ The old woman, adorned in gems and a glittering robe, croaked from her cross-legged position on the floor. Her sleeve raised as she shifted and the ‘W’ branded into her skin flashed briefly.
A dark-skinned woman spoke up. ‘Though I suppose we should be glad it’s not a Belmont this time.’ She caressed the hammer hanging from her hip as she looked towards the hunters.
Henry Belmont glared. ‘This time. Yes.’
‘Now, now.’ She sneered. ‘Threats aren’t a good way to start an alliance, are they?’
‘She’s right.’ A hand settled on the young man’s shoulders before he could retort and he relaxed, leaning into his mother. ‘We need to work together.’
‘If we’re all done having a spat.’ The group froze as Dracula spoke again. ‘Shall we begin business?’
The Elder Speaker tensed at the attention. ‘Yes. I’m sure that in the past year, you have all noticed the increased working of the Church on the common folk and its effects.’
The group said nothing, lost in memories.
‘And I’m sure we can all agree that it goes too far. My caravan is unable to approach a town to spread our teachings lest we be hunted down and hanged.’
‘They drowned my daughter, one left without the gift, to prove her worship to the devil.’ The gems on the old woman's hand sparkled, though the Matron’s eyes were cold.
Ignis spoke, caressing her hammer. ‘An entire group of my people were chased out of our lands. They could not return when only ashes remain.’
‘They killed my father, head of the Belmont clan,’ Henry snarled. ‘And they tried to burn the rest of us.’
Dracula spoke not a word, observing them all in turn as they spoke. None asked for his story, his reason.
They all knew it.
‘This cannot go on,’ the Elder Speaker urged. ‘We will either be driven out of Wallachia or hunted.’
‘Without the Belmont’s they cannot do any large damage.’ The Matron observed. ‘They will have small victories only.’
‘No. My scouts saw them speaking to the Guard. They mean to bring them in.’
They were all still.
‘That is troubling.’
‘Can you not deal with them?’ Ignis questioned.
‘We are no longer in standing with them.’ Henry gritted. ‘And though we try, we are still hounded by other attacks.’ He shot a look at Dracula.
‘And there lies the crutch of our problem.’ The Elder cut in before damage could be wrought. ‘We cannot fight a war on two sides. I have a suggestion.’ He assessed them carefully. ‘A truce.’
‘Truce?’ The word was echoed several times.
‘Between whom?’
‘How would this work?’
‘Between all of us. And for it to work we’d need trust.’
‘Fat chance of that.’ The Matron cackled.
‘We need to try.’
‘And the wording of this truce?’ Henry asked.
‘That is yet to be decided. But, if you don’t want to join, leave now. We have no time to waste.’
Despite their previous jests and quips, the group did not move. The memories of their loved ones stayed their positions and the chance of a future cemented it.
‘We need to work together to uncorrupt the Church and to stay our hands against each other.’
‘And how would we ensure this?’
The Elder turned onto the Matron. ‘While I do not want this, it is most likely our easiest course. An exchange.’
‘Of?’
‘I have members in my caravan whose magic transcends that of our knowledge. You have those who have none. I’d suggest that we acclimate each group to different surroundings.’
‘Hostages?” She spat. ‘You’re mad.’
‘Guests.’ He shook his head. ‘Would you trust me without it?’
Arguments broke out, each member of the group, but one, letting their opinion be known. Hours stretched, dawn broke, and the birds began to sing again before appropriate conclusions were made.
‘You lose that Grimoire and I will find you,’ the Matron threatened.
Ignis rolled her eyes. ‘Give me a break.’
‘And Dracula.’ The Elder still trembled though he hid it well. ‘Since you have stayed here for this time, I take that to mean you mean to offer something of your own?’
The King did not speak, his red eyes seeming to burn with flames. Unbeknownst to them all, memories of a woman’s cries echoed through his mind and the anger he’d uselessly unleashed mocked him.
‘I have several items, not from this time, that I shall grant to each of you.’
Delight entered their eyes, hunger for future knowledge all but consuming their thoughts. What were their sacrifices compared to the knowledge of immortals?
Yet, before they could respond, Henry had already spoken, ‘That’s not enough.’
‘Oh?’
‘For all we know you have multiple copies of these stored in that castle of yours. It’s not a worthy exchange.’
‘And you? What do the mighty Belmonts hope to offer?’ He drawled.
He snapped. ‘I thought you’d be thanking us Belmonts, all things considered.’
Dracula hissed, his fangs bared in offence. The casual reminder of what had happened, of what almost happened, of a woman’s cries and burns, ripped through him.
Both men glared at each other, an impasse reached. The air was thick with tension, each man's presence glaring. These were not ordinary men. They were the bearers of mighty family names, each representing a mighty legacy. Their shared history was fraught with conflict and distrust. Offers of peace felt hollow, and gestures of goodwill were suspect.
What could ancestral enemies hope to give each other that could stay either hand?