Chance Meetings

The music in the small goth club in Transylvania was thunderous, resounding throughout the club and the bodies of all the various clubbers in attendance. A locally-known DJ spun various well-known artists, Sisters of Mercy to Bauhaus to the Cure to Switchblade Symphony. Sweat-soaked humans danced to the dark, bass-heavy music in the darkness of night, drinking away their week’s woes amongst strangers.

It was in the corner of such a club, arms crossed, unmoving, that Alucard found himself. In truth, it was quite a relief from the constant pressure and stress of planning his father’s final death–one predicted since the 16th century.

He had had two centuries to plan for this. And now that it was all but here he found he didn’t know how to feel about it all.

Exactly 200 years since he had killed his father on his own, and saved Richter.

And almost 150 years since Richter had passed on. He missed him every day.

The current Belmont heir, Julius, did not favor Richter in appearance, aside from the typical Belmont traits. He did, however, favor his mother, one Ekaterina Belmont, with her long, auburn hair.

She never wanted this.

He is not the only Belmont alive, this is true, but he is the most likely to become the one to defeat Dracula. His sister is far too young, nevermind Kokoro, still an infant, and Amelia… Amelia would far rather keep to herself at times such as these.

He’s sure there are other Belmonts, their family tree has spread far and wide by now, but… forgive him for not putting stock in their abilities to defeat Dracula. Especially knowing the danger he poses.

Several years after the death of Ekaterina, Julius was taken to the states to be raised by the Morrises, namely Jonathan.

Jonathan never had children of his own, but Julius was close enough to be almost a son to him that it didn’t matter. He took him in, trained him, provided for him, and made sure to provide him with the best he could offer. Julius always said he thought Jonathan would’ve made a great father, if he so chose.

Jonathan Morris died 2 months past, and their whole team took it quite heavily. Alucard was used to loss, but he had to admit he had grown more fond of the Morris than he expected to. Julius had simply stated he needed to be left alone for a time after, that he would be available to plan for the eclipse if necessary, but little else. Even little Leigh-Anne Morris, the granddaughter of his second-cousin, was distraught.

Charlotte was, of course, utterly inconsolable.

In truth, Alucard felt he was intruding on their mourning, regardless of what they told him, so he took time to return to Romania, under the guise of scouting out good vantage points near where the castle normally appears.

Which is how he finds himself in this small club, one he’d grown rather fond of in the past several years, alone, in the corner, nursing a plum brandy.

It’s a break he’s needed. He’s missed this.

As he continues to people-watch, bodies writhing as they swat at unseen cobwebs, or swish like snakes, he finds his eye drawn to one individual in particular.

He seems to rather enjoy the music, dancing as though he will die tomorrow. His body is plastered in fishnet and shining latex, his stark, ivory white hair reflecting lights of the stage.

The man is a vampire.

Alucars keeps a close eye on him, contorting and twisting to the pulsating music with the crowded room, and for a moment they lock eyes, the man’s scarlet gaze meeting Alucard’s own of molten gold.

The man offers a small smirk, before returning to his dance, losing himself in the heavy bass and rising guitar vanish, overtaken by the low and moaning dulcet tones of Andrew Eldritch.

The vampire is, admittedly, one whom Alucard has become passingly familiar with in his many years, though they’ve never met. A vampire who has lived for ages, longer than Alucard, perhaps even longer than his horrid father, and yet here he is, amongst the humans, adapting to the current time as well as any.

The vampire is, admittedly, one whom Alucard has become passingly familiar with in his many years, though they’ve never met. A vampire who has lived for ages, longer than Alucard, perhaps even longer than his horrid father, and yet here he is, amongst the humans, adapting to the current time as well as any.

Alucard finds he somewhat wishes he had such a proclivity; though he occasionally finds things he enjoys, such as this newly created musical subculture, taking inspiration from the imagery of his childhood, and that which became dominant during his life with Richter. But he finds he still struggles to understand humanity, their nuances, the hidden rules they expect one to follow. Alucard does not understand it, has never understood it. Perhaps he never will.

Alucard stares at the drink he holds, swirling it leisurely. He tends to prefer cocktails, horrid concoctions of sugar and alcohol, but finds he seeks comfort in a drink he has developed a nostalgic taste for, one that has little effect on him, though he finds he still enjoys it from time to time.

He must be far more distracted than he realizes pondering his own difficulty understanding humanity, as he hears a throat clearing in front of him, head snapping up to see the vampire he had been observing standing in front of him.

“Fascinating to run into you in a place like this.”

Alucard hums.

“I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced. I am Joachim Armster. And you are Alucard, correct?”

“I am he,” he answers.

The two pause, clearly finding themselves unsure of what to discuss. They know each other by reputation; there’s hardly any need to acquaint themselves. And yet, what else is there to talk about?

Alucard hates awkward conversations. He’d rather simply leave.

“What is it that brings you here?” Joachim asks.

“To Romania, the land of my birth? Where all those I’ve loved have lived and died? Or here, to a hole-in-the-wall club with decor I’ve been surrounded by for my entire life, in a city where no one remembers me?”

Joachim’s eye twitches slightly. “Either.”

Alucard looks distant for a moment, as an uncharacteristic bout of authenticity takes hold of him.

“Preparing. And mourning.”

“I see. Preparing for what, exactly?”

Alucard frowns. “Nothing that concerns you.” A pause. He sighs deeply, running his hand down his face. “Apologies. Recent events have taken more of a toll on me than I would prefer to admit.”

“I see.”

More silence follows, its awkwardness filling the air around the two.

“And you, Joachim Armster? What is it you’re doing in Romania?”

He tilts his head. “Let’s call it… meeting an old friend.”

Alucard hums.

Silence envelops the two again, as Joachim appears to give up on conversing with Alucard, and return to his regular activities.

Very well then, he thinks. He’d rather not deal with the uncomfort of running into him again, so he departs for the night.

———

It is a bleak, gray day, a touch of chill striking the air, when Alucard finds himself in the cemetery Richter Belmont, Maria Renard, and Annette are buried in.

He had already visited his mother’s grave, and certainly spent long enough with her to boot. He had visited Trevor and Sypha and Grant, and even parted with the rare word or two for Hector. He even took time to visit Lyudmil, betrayed as he had felt by his turn towards darkness. But a part of him always wanted to wait until the last possible moment to visit the three he had spent the happiest years of his life with, fleeting as they were. He had long accepted the deaths of the others, he had had to, but Richter, Maria, and Annette…

It has been 150 years since he lost them, but he finds the wound they left will not close.

He brings three bouquets for them: red camellia and heliotrope for Richter, geraniums and marigolds for Maria, jasmine and lilac for Annette.

He speaks to them for hours of his adventures since he last visited them, of Julius as the latest Belmont heir, and all the progress he’s made, of their plan to defeat Dracula permanently. He speaks of Julius’s fate, of how he knows Richter would hate to see another Belmont trapped within this cycle, but that he knows how proud he would be. He allows the time to slip away, telling mundane tales of his time in the modern world, of how much he wishes he could show them, tale after tale so he didn’t need to leave them.

He doesn’t realize night has fallen until hours after, the well of stories having run dry hours ago, and yet still, he finds it difficult to pry himself away from the two. He lays next to Richter’s grave, as he spent many years laying in his bed, and pretends he can still feel the heat of him. He leaves a plush tiger that struck him as looking remarkably similar to Byakko for Maria, and he leaves a small kiss on Annette’s grave.

It isn’t until nearly 3AM, according to his watch, that he finds he can bear to part with the three.

As he stands, resolving himself to leave them again, he sees another figure, a bit distant. The other appears to be dressed in a shining leather jacket, staring at a grave in the distance, standing in a way that almost appears to be a float, had Alucard not known better.

Normally Alucard would leave others to their grief, but something strikes him about this individual. He finds he can’t quite describe it, but… they look out of place among the graves. It catches him off guard.

He ventures closer to the person, finding his eyes did not deceive him, the individual is floating. Not only that, but he seems to have a dark vampiric aura, and shining silver-white hair–

Ah. It appears this is his new acquaintance.

Joachim floats in front of a grave of old, crumbling stone, moss and lichen-eaten. The design seems simpler than most graves, without the more ornate designs that came in later centuries. There do not appear to be any name markings on the grave, but he doubts any engravings would be legible even were they present.

Whoever lie here has been dead for a long, long time.

Alucard suddenly feels wrongfooted, as though he is intruding on something he should not be, and turns to leave.

“Alucard.”

“Joachim.”

Joachim sighs, turning to face Alucard. He does not seem by any definition happy to have been interrupted during such a private moment, but neither does he seem surprised.

“What was their name?” Alucard finds himself asking, before he can stop himself.

Joachim seems to almost, almost, affect a slight smile, before answering.

“Leon.”

There’s a silence, but it feels less awkward than it did at the club. More… reverent.

“He… did me a favor. A long time ago.”

“This is why you’re here?”

Joachim snorts. “Please. I didn’t come all this way just for him. I have my own matters to attend to.”

It’s clear this statement is only somewhat based in fact, but the extent to which this is true, it’s unclear.

Joachim narrows his eyes for a moment, his head affecting a slight tilt. "Why are you here?"

Alucard takes a deep breath before he answers.

“What do you know of Nostradamus’ 1999 prophecy.”

“Enough.”

“I’m… scoping out potential locations for the spell we plan to use to bind the castle to the eclipse. That’s my purpose for being here. Though, I could also… have use for potential allies.”

“Hm. What Mathias chooses to do with his time, however distasteful I find it, doesn’t concern me.”

“Mathias?”

“Dracula. Mathias. Vlad. ‘Father.’ Whatever you may know him as.”

Alucard’s brow knits together. He’s never heard the name Mathias applied to Dracula before. Does there still remain more about his father he doesn’t know, even after 600 years–even noting the 300 of which he was admittedly asleep?

His confusion must show on his face, as Joachim elaborates. “Mathias… Cornivus or Cronqvist or some such. Your father’s human self.”

Alucards frown only deepens. “You knew my father as a human?”

“Vaguely. Briefly. The man was a haughty, arrogant ass who betrayed his dearest friend after his own wife’s death. Hardly any different from the man you know. Surely you’ve heard the tale?”

“My father never spoke of his life as a human, I’ve never heard of this Mathias.” He pauses, mind full of questions, before asking, “What else do you know of him?”

“Very little. I was… indisposed at the time I would have known him.”

Alucard pinches the bridge of his nose. He certainly longs know more about this topic, and all the things his father never told him or his mother, but it the reason for his current presence here.

“If you knew my father as a human, however little, you could be of great help to defeat him.”

Joachim’s eyes glisten with something, as he seems to mull the prospect over.

“What would you want from me, if I were to agree–hypothetically of course?”

———

It is nearing dawn when the two depart, Joachim having agreed to offer some assistance to Alucard and the current Belmont, apparently named Julius, and their merry band. He hardly has any desire to risk his life for anyone else’s sake, but… well. He has always hated Mathias. And a promise that Dracula will never return, well…

“Perhaps I will be able to return your favor after all, Leon Belmont.”