Witchcraft (Castlevania) (Alucard X Belmont! OC)

Chapter 29

Trevor had quickly spotted the figure wandering around Targoviste. They were quite easy to spot, in long flowing robes of white. Hard to keep it such a color with all the dirt and shot around. Especially in streets far away from camps. "Strange for a priest to be out here?" Trevor mentioned them once to Sypha.

Sypha studied them, as though it wasn't as if the figure was in the same places the pair had been since they arrived in the city. "I don't believe them to be clergy," Sypha said, "I can see where you get it from, but I've seen plenty of clergies and none dress such as that. Far too materialistic for their beliefs."

Having met plenty of other strange characters in their lives, the two tried to ignore the constant presence of the robed figure. Of course after some questions. Trevor was sure to bring it up with one of their conversations with Zamfir. "The person in the robe, you said you killed all priests," he pointed out to the strange and secretive woman.

"Ah, they arrived weeks ago, been poking their nose in places they shouldn't but no one has been able to catch them," Zamfir explained, like the person's presence was an issue. "They are kind to the people, so I elect to ignore their curiosity."

"So, you've never spoken to them yourself?" Sypha questioned, "Or how about seen their face?"

"As I've said, no one has caught them, and those robes hide them entirely, even has a veil over their face. As if 'the eyes of humans shall not lay upon thee,' they're own words," the woman scoffed, obviously fed up with the person's presence.

Trevor hemmed and hawed, "Thought you said you haven't spoken to them."

"I also said they are kind to the people, will answer anyone of their questions," Zamfir scoffed.

"Unlike you," Sypha mumbled under her breath. The topic changed from the figure onto the treatment, and assistance, toward the people of the city. 

the figure disappeared from everyone's mind until they arrived in the underground court just after the vampires. "You!" Trevor yelled at them, throwing a knife right at the heart, They were such a suspicious person, and fully covered, of course, they were a vampire.

The figure had expertly caught the knife before it could pierce the body. "Belmonte," the figure sighed, dropping the knife. "You can't blame me, that fool has always been good at hiding away."

Trevor was mildly frightened the figure knew his name. His family crest was much more hidden than it had been in the past. And just one look and the figure knew who he was. The confusion stayed until the figure pulled down the hood. He knew that face anywhere. The same map of scars, the same features, yet everything else was off a bit. The green eyes shone more blue than natural. The bright red was dingy with greasy and dirt. The skin once rosy from the sun was pale and sickly. One would easily believe it to be Vendta, but the look behind those eyes was not that of his sister.

A shining broadsword appeared in her clutch and she dashed forward, with a destination in mind. Vendta never learned how to wield a broadsword, too large for her stealth tactic. She moved as quick as the wind like there were wings on her back, yet they stayed hidden. She could kill every beast with one swing of the magnificent broadsword, but only cared about those in her way, and not those attacking the people. Vendta would always put others' safety before anything else. As well as her fond use of using what magic she had, Vendta would use it as well as her weapons, not just blade alone. 

Every detail of this person Trevor picked up as he fought as well. All significant enough to take note of, but there was one thing that told him that was not his sister. She never flinched at the fire. Sypha had erected large walls of flame, which the unknown figure would approach and deal with easily. Vendta tried to hide it, but Trevor knew of her fear of fire. Vendta would commonly glance at the nearest torch, making sure the flames were behaving. Vendta stayed away from fire after the battle, hiding the fear in her eyes. Now the person who should be Vendts didn't even flinch.

The figure disappeared behind the curtain as quickly as they could have made it there. Which was just as long as it took for Sypha and Trevor to defeat the vampires and creatures of the night the figure had left standing.

"Was that Vendta?" Sypha asked, finally processing who they saw.

"It looked like it, but that was not Vendta," Trevor said, heading to the curtain. "I'd bet my life on it."

The two stepped through the curtain to find the figure pinning the vampire against the wall. Unlike the others, the blade was not instantly killing this one. Despite how much pressure they were putting onto the neck of the vamp, not even a drop of blood was shed. "They're fighting you, aren't they Micheal?" the vamp hissed. A large wall of a mirror formed and the figure was pushed through. Before either could react the vampire flew through as well.

-*-

"Varney of London," the vampire introduced himself as he landed on the bed, " You're conspirator and benefactor."

The body that had fallen into the wall of death magic laughed as they got to their feet. "Of course lying isn't below you know is it," the scoffed at the vampire. "Don't listen to a thing he says mortal."

"And who might you be?" Saint Germain asked of the white robbed figure.

They scoffed, holding their sword aloft. "I am Micheal, the one in charge of this world. You may call me God."

Both men laughed. "All I see before is a small sniveling girl," Germain scoffed, "Now let the real God work." With bare a wave of a hand, the body was pushed beyond the wall of death magic.

"No human can become God," they pointed out as if it was nonsense to think otherwise. "What you wish to achieve is nothing but a farce to the capabilities of a true God."