Still, there was something between them, a bond that Isaac couldn’t quite cut off. That had to be the reason he had allowed Hector to remain in the castle, the reason they both met up like this from time to time. A reason why he hadn’t killed the man who had betrayed Dracula. 

Perhaps Isaac was turning soft.

He furrowed his brow, displeased. The mere fact that he hadn’t burned this place to the ground was already an indication of that. This whole situation was ridiculous. Irritated, he sneered, “Are you still writing a romance book?”

“This?” Hector’s lips quirked. He set down his quill finally and thatched his fingers. “No, it’s a biography. Of sorts. Though, there will be some romance in it.”

“So it is full of useless things,” Isaac sniped, wanting to wipe that strange expression off Hector’s face.

“It is not all useless.” A ghost of a smile flitted across his face as he peeked at his paper. He looked oddly soft, not at all like the man who used to hammer demons together day and night. “It is merely a moment of sunlight, of beauty.”

“Sunlight?” Isaac scoffed, derision dripping from his every word. “You are a poet now, I see. You have changed.”

“Or moonlight.” Hector stared at him, his expression unreadable. “You cannot tell me you have never felt the same.”

Isaac frowned, not liking where this was going. “The same?”

“I am not the only one who changed. The Isaac of old wouldn’t be here right now.” Hector ran a hand through his hair, his nails lightly scratching his scalp. “We both would have let everything around us rot.”

“I simply picked the lesser of two evils,” Isaac countered, raising a brow. He set down his book on his lap and crossed his arms. “And who is to say I will not push this country to crumble.”

“We wouldn’t be here if you wanted to do that.” Hector chuckled, shaking his head. “Have you considered that your choice wasn’t evil in the first place? You didn’t kill me. That has to count for something.”

“Have you considered I still might?” Isaac turned away. The most annoying part was that Hector was right, that all of this did mean something, though he wasn’t quite ready to consider what. Something in him had started ticking after Dracula’s death, after he had wandered through the searing desert, beasties in tow. 

He remembered an old woman and her regretful mutterings.

He remembered a town filled with the dead. 

He remembered Dracula’s smile as he talked about his wife. 

A moment of moonlight, Hector had called it. It was more like a sliver of light, a flickering candle. Something that could easily die with a single sigh. The world was filled with evil, but there were isolated incidents of something more, something better.

It would only disappoint him in the end. Somehow, that didn’t stop him from thinking about it. From staying in this castle and ruling over this country and talking to Hector when the mood struck him.

“If you want to kill me, do it after I’m done writing.” Hector rolled his eyes as he turned back to his life’s work. His quill was already back in his hand. “I do not want this work to be in vain.”

“Perhaps if you wrote about something less useless, that wouldn’t be the case,” Isaac scoffed.

“Read it after and tell me then if you find it useless.” Hector pursed his lips as he flipped a page, finding the right spot to write. “You know, perhaps you are the lesser of two goods.”

What a silly idea. Isaac picked up his book once more. “I see your story has already scrambled your brain.”

-x-

There was always a silver lining. Since she was young, this phrase had been Sypha’s guiding command, her defining belief. Even the darkest night couldn’t stave off the morning light, even the worst person had the capacity to be more, and for every horrible action, there was a good one out there. Evil may exist in the world but it can be matched, if not outdone, by good.

And then the world went to hell in a handbasket.

In the name of love and despair, villages burned, people died, and neighbours turned on one another. Her people were easy victims, chased from city to city with no reprieve. 

Somehow, despite that, a part of her still believed. This was only out of fear, after all. When Dracula was vanquished, when the demons disappeared, when the world returned to normal, all of this would stop. 

She had been a fool.

“Sypha,” Trevor whispered, his voice low as he grabbed her arm and pulled her flush against his chest. He was still the stronger of the two, his arms caging her in place.

In another time, her trembling might have been in anticipation of what was to come. Now, she was filled with a cold, white fury. “What?” she growled, her voice echoing in the vast, underground catacombs. In the distance, someone flinched and it filled her with a sickening satisfaction.

He tightened his grip. Ducking his head slightly, he tried again. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” she replied evenly, keeping her rage from her voice. He was stronger but she’d practiced enough defensive spells to break free from even the strongest chokehold. Sypha’s gaze flicked from right to left as she scanned the vast chamber around her. Some areas had caved in, rubble blocking side passages and side rooms. The catacombs were fragile. She’d have to be careful with her magic.

Trevor glared at her. Even without seeing it, she could feel it; they’d been together for too long for her to not notice it. A trace of irritation leaked into his voice. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t.”

“I’m not going to do anything,” she replied, clenching her jaw. On the other side of the room, there was a tall, wooden door. No doubt it led to the ringleader behind this mess. It shouldn’t take more than a small, well-placed explosion to open it.

“How long have I known you?” He snorted. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“You clearly haven’t known me long enough,” Sypha snapped. Having had enough, she tugged his arm. “Now let me go. I want to burn this place down.”

“That’s what I thought.” He loosened his grip slightly but still kept her in place. Trevor sighed. “Look, I know how you feel—”

“Do you?” She shoved him away. Sypha felt like the living embodiment of rage and destruction, here to mete punishment instead of justice. She spun around to him, her fingers red hot as though she were playing with fire. “Because I don’t.”

It had been one thing when they’d gone to the capital, when the guards had served corpses and abandoned the living. It was quite another when another, newer cult had sprung up from the ashes of the old one, still trapped in the belief that the dead would rise again. That some strange power would bring the world back to what it was. 

All the while ignoring the plight of the living. The wounded filled this catacomb, their pained moans ignored. Orphans cried and starved with no one to turn to. And all the while, beyond that door, the aid sent here was wasted on a delusional few.

Sypha pressed her hand to her chest as she snarled, “How am I supposed to feel? When I see all of this, what exactly am I supposed to think?”

Trevor’s shoulders sank slightly, though his expression didn’t change. Maybe it was because he had always seen the worst in people, the eternal pessimist, but he never seemed as outraged as she did whenever they stumbled into these situations. He scratched his neck. “Look, I…I understand you’re angry. That’s normal—wait, why am I the common sense one here? That’s your job.”

“I’m not in the mood for jokes,” she growled, magic sparking on her fingertips. 

“Well, it was worth a shot.” Trevor shrugged. He didn’t approach her, sensing just how she’d react if he touched her. “Look, just…save it for later. After we’ve figured out everything, okay? We can’t really stop it if we don’t know what’s happening.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“I know.” Trevor smiled wryly. “Life’s full of it.”

“Fuck.” The most infuriating thing was that he was right. In another situation, she would have said the same thing. Or Alucard would have, if he were here. Sypha gritted her teeth. “Fine. But then it all goes.”

“You can burn it all up after,” he agreed genially.

She clicked her tongue. The demons were gone. Most of the vampires had returned to their abodes, if not outright perished. There was no reason for this anymore. Yet, suffering still persisted in pockets of the country, like weeds springing out of cracks.

Part of Sypha had believed it was all a defense mechanism. She should have known better.

She had forgotten just how cruel people could be.

-x-

Lisa had once said there was no such thing as good and evil, just shades of grey. Even the best actions could have unintended consequences, even the worst event could have a good result. Alucard grew up believing that. And even now, despite all that had happened, he still believed it. 

However, Trevor’s smirk right now was pure evil.

“Soooo,” Trevor drawled, stretching out the word torturously. He leaned against the kitchen counter as he held up a rag doll that looked just like him to the flickering candlelight. “You made these.” Glancing at Alucard, he smirked and poked the doll’s cheek. “It’s really cute.”

There was a barbed punchline somewhere. Maybe Alucard should murder Trevor before he heard it.

Not noticing or caring about his impending doom, Trevor turned the doll over in his hands. “I didn’t realize you were so lonely while we were gone.” He started to play with the arms and waved one. “Poor wittle baby.”

“You should never have returned from the dead.” Alucard glowered. The effect was diminished by the large steel pot he was holding. There was a time when he killed with just a glance. 

“Trevor!” Sypha snapped, shooting him a dirty glare. She shifted the basket of apples from one arm to the other and patted Alucard’s shoulder. “Don’t mind him. I think it’s cute.”

“That isn’t any better,” Alucard grumbled. He should have destroyed those dolls months ago. At the very least, he should have chucked them the moment the pair had returned from their travels. He had the time. The only answer was that he was growing senile or soft.

“They’re very cute. Our kids can play with them.” Trevor waved both arms of his doll, that insufferable smirk not dropping a notch. “Maybe we should make a third one, for Alucard. So they can play house.” His shit-eating grin grew wider. “You’ll make it, right?”

Perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst idea if their children grew up with just one father. A second one was a wasted redundancy. It was also one less mouth to feed, one less trouble to worry about—there were only advantages to suddenly disappearing Trevor in the night.

“Ignore the idiot.” Sypha leaned against him, her head resting awkwardly on his shoulder as she smiled. “He missed you. Me too. I think I like it best when it’s the three of us.”

If she was trying to distract him, he accepted the peace treaty. This was certainly more pleasant to hear than the moron who was starting to put on a show with the two dolls. Alucard held his pot with one hand and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Do you now?”

She reached up and clasped his hand. “Don’t act like you feel any different.”

“I didn’t say I did.” How could he? His favourite recollections were from when they were together, travelling on the road, fighting off demons, complaining about the chilly nights. And now, the new memories that were filling the lonely, empty castle. 

“You’re a sap. Trevor pretends he isn’t but he’s one too.” Sypha chuckled warmly. “Sorry we took so long to return.”

“It’s fine.” Alucard squeezed her shoulder. “To be honest, that wasn’t the worst of it.”

“Oh?” Sypha looked up, curious. Even when they’d first met, she’d been like that, poking her nose into every problem she could find. “Then what was?”

“It…” He hesitated. Alucard had never intended to say that aloud. His fears were his own.

But she wasn’t one to back off. Determined, she poked his side. “Alucard.”

Alucard looked away. “…it’s just a taste of what’s to come. Maybe not now, but in fifty years…”

“Oh.” Sypha pursed her lips, understanding. “Oh.”

This absence was temporary. It had been hard. It had been lonely. But they had returned.

When they died, there wouldn’t be anything to look forward to. For a brief moment, Alucard could understand just how his father had gone mad. Eternity stretched before him and it was bleak. 

Trevor pushed off the counter, having paid more attention to their conversation than he’d let on.  He dropped the doll and stepped forward until he could jab Alucard’s chest. “Why do you always have to make things so complicated, you sorry bastard?”

“There’s nothing complicated about it,” Alucard muttered. 

“We’re here now. That’s all that matters, right?” Trevor snorted, shaking his head. “If I’d known you’d get so gloomy, I would have just dragged you along with us.”

Alucard stiffened. Miffed, he retorted, “You of all people can’t call others gloomy.”

“The idiot has a point, for once.” Sypha pulled away slightly, just enough so she could take Alucard’s hand off her shoulder and push it against her slowly swelling belly. “We’re here. After that, our kids will be here. That entire village camping in your lobby is here and their kids too. I bet you’ll miss the silence soon enough.”

Trevor grumbled, “Do you have to call me an idiot?”

“It’s an affectionate term.” Sypha smiled and looked up at Alucard. “And you’ll make that third doll. It’s not right just to have the two of us.”

Alucard stared at them both before breaking into laughter. Could his father—could any of the vampires, really, have pictured entire generations of people living in this castle? For all the good and ill that came with it.

“I already miss it,” Alucard replied, drawing them both closer into a messy hug. His future would be filled with moments of loneliness but also moments of companionship. His mother had been right. 

There were degrees to everything.

-x-

It was an odd feeling. Lisa had married a vampire, burned at the stake, and gone through hell, but somehow this situation was the oddest one yet. She and her husband, meandering down a country road, her arm hooked through his. The sort of domestic bliss she had longed hoped for but had never really believed could happen.

Yet, here it was, happening. And without a word of complaint from Dracula despite how slow their journey was. She leaned her head against his arm and sighed happily. 

“What is it?” he asked, attentive as ever. Even in peasant clothing, Dracula stood out. It was hard to hide his intimidating aura no matter how hard he pretended he was human. 

Lisa chuckled. “Just enjoying myself. Though, I think we should head home soon. I miss our son.”

He gave her a long look. “If we walk, it will take some time.”

“That’s fine. All good things do.” Lisa peeked up at him. Now that she had a second chance at life again, she wasn’t going to let her desires slip out of her fingers. “I’m glad we’re doing this. This walk. This journey.”

“Do you now?” he asked, rubbing her cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“Yes.” She absentmindedly stared out over the long wheat fields around them. “You’ve always seen the worst of humanity. I want a chance to show you the best.”

“I’ve seen the best already,” he replied stubbornly. “You.”

“That again.” Lisa laughed. “Alright, then I want to show you other good things. What do you think of people now?”

“That…” Uncharacteristically of him, Dracula paused. He was thinking. Just as she’d hoped. Lisa wanted him to deliberate his opinion, to mull it over and ponder. “I have yet to decide.”