Castlevania Nocturne: A Sneak Peak

Sneak Peak: Striga and Morana

The closer he got to Striga, the tighter the knot pulled in his heart. It would lead her to him like a rope through a labyrinth, Morana too. Vance kept his head high, breathing in the night air and letting the scents of the woods trail into his nose. The stars glimmered over the midnight woods with the hill of Machecoul far behind him, the lights of the houses flickering dimly. I'll keep you away from the humans while I figure things out.

Vance halted and bared his teeth, feeling his chest clench. His eyes pinned on the ring of standing stones on the nearby hill, making out two shadowy figures in the center. His heart lurched, but not from the connection.

"Should be easy." He took a deep breath. "A good greeting and a catch up. Not like you haven't seen or heard word from your own brood in over five hundred years." Another deep breath.Emmaline, you need to keep Emmaline safe. Muster it up for her. She was his child as much as he was theirs, bound by blood without inheritance.

It's not like the vampires who raised him in his new life would hurt him, certainly not Striga who turned him.

Vance bravely strode up the hill, the knot clenching ever tighter until he found himself within the circle of standing stones, where his sires waited.

To Vance's eyes, neither Striga nor Morana had changed in the past five centuries. Save for clothes, but even vampires kept in line with the fashion. (At least relatively, they wore traveling clothes, and Vance wondered who Morana had to torture to get a coat and dress Striga's size.) Nobody spoke when they saw each other. Eyes locked on one other until Vance steadily approached, bowing his head low in respectful greeting to his elders.

"Rise, it is unbecoming of you." Striga lifted his chin with her sharpened claw. Vance straightened and looked upon the one who turned him on the brink of death. His maker, his vampiric sire. Emotions flooded him he believed would never feel again. Awe, endearment towards a parent, even a little bashfulness.

"You are home,my child." Striga wrapped her burly arms around him and pulled her progeny into an iron embrace. She nuzzled his forehead, emitting deep thrums within her chest. Morana joined in, wrapping her arms around him and nuzzling his cheek while thrumming. Vance felt like a lost child finally returned home. He blinked, startled by the tears blinding his own eyes.

"Demons below, you stink!" Striga wrinkled her lips moving back from him. "What have you been up to since we've parted ways?"

Morana snarled in agreement, cupping Vance's cheek like a small boy. "Why do you reek of angel? Has that vulture harmed you? We shall rip her wings out of her sockets and wrench her mortal heart from her chest if she so much as frayed a hair on your head!"

"Whoa whoa, back it up a bit !!" Vance exclaimed, undead heart racing as he stepped back. "Nice to see you too! Missed you all these centuries! Mother." He glanced at Striga. "Mum." At Morana. "Relieved to say I am well. I have been well. I never expected to see you here."

"Neither have we, my son." Striga thrummed, taking her lover's hand. "We feared you vanished off the face of the continent."

"In a way I did." Vance admitted. "I was overseas for a century and a half. America was quite nice but it's good to be on the home continent again. I've been in France for eight years now."

"Eight years." Striga growled. "And you did not bother to find us? Why?"

"It's been....."Vance sighed. "Busy. I have my own obligations in this commune. Honestly I didn't think you'd be desperate to see me again, ever since I decided to leave on my own. I never felt welcomed in Styria, and Carmilla always gave me disgusted looks while I was around."

"No." Striga assured him. "You were wise to leave, every vampire leaves their brood to forge their own path, and Carmilla made it easier for you."

"That bitch." Morana growled. "Treating our son like an outcast yet cherishing us as a sister. We should have spoken words with her."

"We should have, but that is past." Striga comforted her mate. "Carmilla is centuries dead and our child has returned." She thrummed, gazing on Vance with endearment. "The reassurance was knowing you weren't killed, I would have sensed your dying breath in my lungs."

"Nope." Vance chuckled. "Still breathing. Say? How about a good hunt, the three of us just like old times? The moon is new and the darkness blinds our prey."

"What a perfect idea, my child." Striga thrummed in approval, staring hungrily at Machecoul. "We shall wash that purified stench off you with fresh blood."

"Ah no! You can't eat the humans there!" Vance quickly intervened. "You said something about an angel? Well she protects the people in that town, and she is very powerful. Perhaps the most powerful angel I've ever seen, and I've only seen few!"

"Of course." Morana bared her fangs. "Every damn inch of this country the shepherds guard their flock.

You are wise, my son, perhaps that is how you survived this long in its territory. Most vampires do not believe angels still walk among their livestock. Some do not believe in them at all."

"Thanks.." Vance. "I certainly didn't believe they had a smell."

The bonded vampires glanced at each other.

"Typical Vance, focused on the scent in front of him and but never of the surrounding wolves." Snickered Striga.

"Easy on him, my love. He wouldn't know the scent of an angel. He is far too young." Morana rubbed his cheek.

"Excuse me? I am eight hundred years old mind you!" Vance clicked his fangs . "I may not be as old as you ladies but I'm no spring chicken either!!"

"Of course not, my child." Striga said warmly. "But to linger in an angel's territory long enough where its sweet reek masks your lovely scent is impressive. If it weren't for the bond we share, Morana and I would have killed you on your approach. How long have you been here?"

"Apparently long enough where I smell like an angel." Vance shrugged. "I didn't know that was the scent, I just assumed it was the general smell of the area. There are a lot of wildflowers in this country.

"I do not blame you for that assumption." Morana understood. "Most vampires do not recognize their scent, and the damn pigeons conceal themselves well. This country is crawling with them! Virtually every province is covered by their shit! I still wonder why we even linger in France?"

"The squabbling animals make easy prey." Striga's teeth glinted in the night.

"Oh yes, they are easy pickings." Morana agreed. "Some even offer their enemies to us. Humans can be useful after all."

"I'm guessing the revolution has been beneficial to you." Vance commented. "Well you won't find any of that squabble here. No violent upheaval, no riots, no beheaddings. Machecoul is as boring as it gets. Even the humans are bland."

" Didn't you say the angel guards the humans?" Striga questioned.

Shit!!! Vance mentally cursed himself. "She does, but I've hunted under her nose years after accumulating her own scent. Not all the time, just when I'm feeling a little daring." He wanted to pat himself on the back for adding the truth. "I advise heavily against it. You'd two would stick out worse than a sore thumb." He flared his cloak and turned northwestward. "I know a good place to hunt. Let us run together as we did long ago, as shadows beneath the darkened moon."

The vampiresses smiled. "Yes. Our brood is one again." Striga approved. "Let us hunt as sire and progeny together."

"It has been ages since we drank blood as one brood." Morana said wistfully, her eyes and mind drifting towards the town, detecting a familiar scent. Impossible.