Chapter Fourteen: Distorted Reflections
“So. You seek to know how it is you must complete the whip.” He hesitates for a moment, before continuing, sagely. “Very well. Bring him here.”
“I… at current, Leon seeks a way to gain entrance into the inner halls of the castle, and with him, an ally of his whom I have no trust for. I… know not whether I they will allow themselves to be separated.”
“This… ally. They are a vampire as well?”
Sara nods.
He considers this for a moment. “And might this be the very vampire who has turned your Leon?”
“I—yes, that appears… that appears as the case.”
“Then tell me this much: Has he, has Leon, partaken of human blood?”
Sara hesitates. Has… he? Her mind races as she attempts to recall any sort of tell, any way to determine the answer to such a query yet… she can hardly recall much of tonight’s events, so sudden as everything has happened.
“I do not… I do not know—”
“If he has not… there may yet be a way to save him. To return him to his former self.”
“There… there is hope yet, then?”
“Yes. But to do so… you will need kill the one who made him the way he is now.”
“I… must kill… but… I am no killer; I could do no such thing.”
Rinaldo sighs. “Then there is truly no hope for setting this business to rights. Your beloved is lost.”
He turns to retreat.
“Wait!” Sara cries, and the man stops.
“What must I do?”
———
She dashes back within the castle, finding Joachim and Leon.
Her small frame crashes into Leon, clutching him tightly, for she finds she cannot let go of him.
“Sara! Sara, is everything alright?”
Sara takes a deep breath. “Yes. Yes, I am well. All… all will be well.” Her eyes sparkle as she says this, yet of hope or of dread, she knows not.
“This—all of this, is soon to be as a dreadful night-terror,” Arms upon Leon’s shoulders. As she says this, her eyes, without her meaning, catch Joachim’s.
She attempts to hold her gaze, make as though nothing is wrong, as though she does not obscure anything yet…
Sara’s eyes flick to the ground. The guilt overcomes her, eats at her, and she finds she cannot.
Out of her vision’s corner, she thinks to see him take a step—or, howsoever close the man will come to a “step” in his perpetual float—toward Leon, seeming suspicious of Sara’s motives, protective.
Sara drops her hold, and smiles, and Leon returns her smile, turning to step away.
“And… Leon?”
He turns toward her, inquisitive look coloring his gaze.
Sara unlatches his sword’s sheath from her belt.
His smile widens as extends his hand outward.
———
Joachim’s familiarity with the castle proves quite useful for the three.
While most must enter through the large rooms aplenty, carved of marble and accented with elaborate chandeliers, the three manage to stealth through an obscured passage which few seem to know, yet—to all of their fortune—it seems Joachim at one time made a point to learn of.
Long and meandering are the many halls they wander, and though he shows a veneer of surety, it becomes clear Joachim had at least to some point forgotten the way forward.
Leon must think the same. “You… are certain you yet know where you lead, Joachim?”
Joachim gives a fox-smile. “Of course; I could traverse these halls without eyes.”
Sara tires of his posturing. “And yet you lead us down a path we have traveled twice before. Should we—”
“Hold.” whispers Leon, a moment after ushering their trio into a quiet alcove as they hear footfalls pass in the nearby hallway.
They come to a standstill for a moment, awaiting the passing-by of this interloper.
Except, Sara supposes, it is the three of us who truly interlope within such a place as this.
Whoever it may be passes them by, as Sara lets out a breath she had not known she held.
Joachim narrows his eyes, just slight.
“That was not Walter.”
“But… you said these halls were known to very few,” Leon states.
“A very small number which can be counted upon a singular hand,” Joachim appears deep in his thoughts.
“Then… if that was not Walter, why is it—who could possibly…”
“We haven’t the time to worry on this. Should we continue on,” Sara makes to continue her earlier thought, “I think it best if, perhaps, I lead. We have been in these halls already for God knows how long as Joachim has lead us, and we make no progress.”
“You? You hardly have the instinct of a vampire, nor the abilities of one. You could lead us direct into danger without even so much as realizing,” Joachim counters.
Leon sighs. “If the two of you cannot come to an agreement perhaps 'tis best I lead. I have experience in a leadership role and subterfuge. We must be prepared if it must come to combat.”
Their conversation devolves into the bickering of children, and they must take a moment’s time to deliberate amongst themselves who would lead the three.
An agreement is finally reached wherein they all lead, in their way: Leon keeping watchful eyes for any enemy that may approach, and informing of any knowledge of import regarding best use of their surroundings should he think a fight brews; Joachim offering information of what he recalls—or believes himself to recall, as the case may be—regarding the paths through the castle; and Sara at the head of the group, relegated to persuading rational enemies away from battle, specially so considering that Joachim and, to lesser extent, Leon, are more like to be recognized than Sara, whose lies are far less like to be seen through, by simple virtue of being an unknown within the castle.
Sara has not been known the best at spinning tall tales, yet still it remains their best chance of remaining unsighted, unrecognized.
———
Joachim shepherds them toward a hallway which opens to a large marbled room, the floor glowing such that Sara can see her reflection upon it—as well as that of Leon and Joachim, to her surprise.
Granted, such a reflection is warped, difficult to recognize, yet it is present nonetheless.
Joachim seems to care little, likely having traversed these very halls many a time, leading confident toward another hall, however Leon little shares such apathy.
As he enters the room, he begins striding with purpose ‘cross the room, yet part of the way through, he catches sight of his own reflection out of the corner of his vision, and slows, just slight at first, before coming to a halt, inspecting his appearance for the first in months.
He stares, hand fluttering first to his hair, once kept such that it would not pass his chin, now cascading just past his shoulders, unkempt, matted and tangled. He crouches, in attempt at a clearer view. He seems to inspect the blood which coats his nightclothes, old and browned, though some of brighter red tint.
He looks to his skin, far paler, more gaunt, bereft of the flush of life, of the pink that once tinged his cheeks Sara so enjoyed seeing of him when she would tease him, or when the one caught the other’s gaze upon them for… longer than strictly necessary.
He puzzles over the aspects of his appearance which have transformed for the monstrous, his humanity replaced by sharp, lethal edges and points.
Sara wishes only to know his thoughts on the matter, how such a transformation has affected his own thoughts of himself.
She hopes it would not be for the worse.
As Sara gazes from afar upon her love, Joachim growls from a far corner of the room.
“It would appear this passage has been sealed with a magic… too… strong, for my own abilities alone,” the vampire spits, as if it pains him to admit it outside of his abilities.
Sara wrenches her gaze from Leon, instead choosing to look ‘round the room for some other path forward, pacing the room quietly for another path forth which would not involve fighting through many myriad hordes, before making her way toward Joachim; the whip itself is one of magic, perhaps it can dispel magic as well.
Leon sighs, dismayed, quietly answering, as though speaking to someone near to him, “then I suppose we shall have to discard our approach at subtlety.”
Sara responds to him, “not as such!” and cracks the whip, dispelling the barrier which binds the threshold.
Before Sara can even think, several things happen at once, their order difficult to parse.
Leon’s head whips about to look at Sara as he hears her speak, a look of surprise plain across his face, as he looks to the space beside him, only to see the very copy of Sara herself which had dueled her earlier.
Concurrent with this, the room begins to quake, first slight, subtle, but quickly becoming more substantial before overtaking the room entire.
Joachim shouts at her to tell her what a great fool she is, but Sara does not listen; as the Sara-duplicate lashes at Leon just as he catches sight of her, only just maneuvering backward with a flip, the true Sara lines a shot with her bow, glancing off the side of the second’s whip, and makes a mad dash toward Leon.
Sara slips into a slide toward the duplicate, knocking it off its balance, and some manner of strange rift, a tear upon the very air, begins to open, spouting small pebbles, growing larger and larger as they force the tear to cut itself wider.
But the way forward has been opened.
As the doppelgänger lashes at the both of them, Leon unsheathes his sword to deflect, riposting with two quick slashes, as the snap of the false whip shields it from his strikes.
The pebbles begin to turn to stones, which turn to boulders, growing, quickly, in size.
“Should we wish to continue on, we only have so little time. Make haste,” Joachim asserts, shouting over the loud rumble of stone against stone.
Leon does not seem to heed his words, continuing to fight alongside Sara, but it is as she places her hand upon his arm that he turns to her. “Go, Leon. I will be with you.”
Leon holds her gaze for but a moment, then nods.
As he disengages, the doppelgänger seizes the opportunity to make an attack upon Leon—
—Only for Sara to halt this attack with a lash of her whip. It lashes at her, again, and again, and Sara meets every whip-lash with one of her own, this battle one of blows matched, each and every one.
But Sara finds her time dwindling.
Slowly, she backs herself toward the threshold which has found itself on the receiving end of an endless slurry of boulders, quickly piling upon each other.
“Sara!” Leon shouts, and she begins to see that her path is closing.
As she turns back, she only hardly stops an incoming lash from the whip of the other.
They continue their duel, matching one lash with a twinned lash, as Sara searches for an opening.
As she lashes and lashes, she catches the doppelgänger across the face by sheer accident with her whip, as it reels back a moment.
Sara takes this opportunity to sprint from the fight. The boulders continue to fall, but Sara is so close, she can near reach out and touch Leon—
She feels a sharp pain bloom from her leg, and she stumbles, losing her step, as she continues onward, refusing to relent, but her attempts have already been rendered moot, as Sara grasps her bow and fires, unseeing, behind her, hearing the arrow land true in pure miracle.
The threshold is blocked by another boulder just as she nears it, and Sara collapses.
She can hear stones being shifted, even as more continue to fall, before the two begin to speak, indistinctly.
“—Ara? Sara, are you a—? —An you hear—?” Leon’s voice comes muffled through the stone as Sara struggles to hear.
“Leon! Leon! I hear you!” Sara sits, back to the wall nearest the threshold, taking great care to avoid the falling stones, as they slowly trickle from boulders to stones. She investigates her leg, seeing an arrow as it pokes through her shin.
“Leon… you must continue on, I’m afraid I will only slow you as I am.”
His voice comes louder this time, if still muffled. “Sara, no. I will not leave you. I will not!”
“You must! I… I cannot walk as I am. I have been shot.”
There comes a moment of silence.
“Leon, have you—”
“The arrow, can you see the head of it? Has it gone through entirely?” Leon responds, finally.
“Y-yes, but—”
“Sara, you must listen. have you a blade of any sort?”
“N-no, I have no such blade,” she replies.
There comes a pause yet again as another arrow embeds itself in the wall—far too near to Sara’s head, as the doppelgänger sulks toward her, wrenching the arrow Sara had shot at it from its arm.
“If you are able, snap the head from the shaft as near to the wound as you can.”
“Leon, wh—I haven’t time for this—”
“Then, do the same of the arrow’s feathers. Leave as little stick within the wound as possible, but do not allow the splinters of the wood near the wound, and do not remove the arrow.”
Sara hesitates. “Wh—why mustn’t I remove it.”
“Because it will bleed, quickly, and that is dangerous in a fight. Wait until you are safe to wrap the wound.”
“A-alright, Leon.” Another arrow that Sara only just moves to dodge, falling on her side as she does so, crying out when this causes the arrow to move within the wound.
“Sara! I will be there in just a moment—!”
“No, Leon, you cannot. We must continue.” Joachim responds.
There is more discussion, which evolves into shouting, but Sara cannot entirely parse it, as she devotes her attention go following Leon’s instructions regarding the arrow.
Joachim finally states, “as there is no way to reach you in our current circumstances, we will continue on. Find us when you have finished.”
Leon protests, “Joach—”
“Good. Keep Leon safe, Joachim.”
“I will.”
As the doppelgänger closes on Sara, she calls out.
“Leon—we will see each other again. I swear it.”
“I love you, Sara.”
Sara pushes herself to stand.
“And I love you, Leon Belmont.”