I'm not saying it was a...good choice after the fact. [Sypha will readily admit that much. Thinking about them, their garments (nightshirts - she hates that she knows this now) flapping in the wind, heads flopping back on their necks like unattended puppets, sends a twist of unease through her gut.] But we've all done things we regret out of hurt and fear. Those mistakes don't define us unless we knowingly repeat them.
[Very slowly, very carefully, Sypha reaches out to tuck his hair out of his face. She does not cup his cheek the way she aches to do, or run her thumb along his crumpled brow. But she can make sure he can see her if he so chooses.] They hurt you. They gained your trust first, and they hurt you. But I know you Adrian, and I know you were trying to warn others away from being as suicidally stupid as best you could. So don't you try to tell me what I do and don't deserve.
[There's more she could say, about how she and Trevor are hardly paragons of great sense or success themselves, but no. Not now, not until he stops thinking of himself as less than human for melting down.]
[Alucard flinches when Sypha reaches towards him. It is only through sheer grit that he doesn't jerk away entirely - he'd just send himself on the floor, most likely.
He tries to listen. He does. But in all of Sypha's words all he hears is justification for awful acts, all in her voice. Somehow that just makes it worse. He's put her in a position where those actions have to be said to be understood. Not acceptable. But understood.
[For the third (fourth? fifth?) time, Sypha draws herself away. Specifically, she slides off the table and steps towards the door.] All right. I'll join Trevor in the Hold. It hasn't got a magical search function, he probably needs the help.
We'll...see you at breakfast. [Or she'll track him down again. Conceding to his wish for space, while he's like this, is as much as she's capable of doing.
And even then she cannot do it quietly. Sypha goes to the Hold, all right, but she stops at the bottom of the pit that once housed the circular staircase. Using pistons of ice, she shoots chunks of debris into the air and blasts them apart with wildly flung fireballs. This goes on until she's wrung out, dripping with sweat, the urge to scream killed by her grunts of effort.
She's utterly unsurprised to find Trevor watching her from the Hold's reconstructed doorway. His gaze is an open question, and Sypha does not hesitate to lay out the answers she's found.
When she's done, Trevor disappears into the woods with a hatchet in hand, lips curled back over his eyeteeth. He comes back in the wee hours of the morning with enough split logs to warm the whole Castle for a week. His anger, it turns out, is more productive than hers, at least when there's no alcohol on offer.
They don't talk about it within the Castle's walls, both too conscious of Alucard's superior hearing and silent footsteps. And Alucard, well, he holds to the letter of her request, if not the spirit of it, by appearing only as a lanky white wolf.
It makes for interesting breakfast conversation, but Sypha knows she's not the only one concerned when he turns up for the next meal the same way. And the one after that. And the one after that.]
"We can't keep on like this." [Trevor says one evening as they return from the Hold, his arms weighed down with all the books she's annotated for copying or translation. He grumbles about playing the glorified pack mule, but he never says no.]
We just have to wait him out, [Sypha reasons, because she feels it too. The ticking clock over their heads. The pressing knowledge that they're no closer to solving the riddle of the Infinity Corridor. The fact that Alucard's been a wolf for days.] He's been through something terrible. And he never had a chance to heal from the other terrible things that happened beforehand!
"I know, but-"
Also, he mentioned there might be more useful information in Dracula's private library, but not where it was or how to get into it or even if that would upset him!
"Yes, but-"
And I'm not leaving him again! I can't! We can't! He's our friend, he deserves better from--
"Sypha, I am trying to agree with you!" [Trevor has to all but holler to cut her off. They're outside the kitchen now, staring heatedly at one another. Sypha breathes hard through her nose, days of poorly stifled emotion boiling her blood. Trevor stomps into the room and dumps her books at the table, then turns back to her.] "We won't leave him. But we may need to truss him up and toss him in the wagon, that's all I'm saying."
[Sypha slumps towards him, coming up close and then leaning into him until her face is buried in his chest and his arms come round her shoulders. She hides her wobbly lower lip and reddened eyes and muffles her uneven breaths.] I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make it sound like you don't care. I know you do. I'm just...everything's so awful. I want to fix it. I don't know how.
[That first night, Alucard doesn't remove himself from the library at all. Movement requires too much effort, and that has been drained from him utterly. Telling Sypha what happened - even just a version of it - left him utterly bereft of the ability to do more but drown in an exquisite sort of misery that he had gotten used to. The kind that clawed at him and pulled him back down against the rock bottom sea of despair that he had been drowning in since he and his father first argued about proper recompense for Lisa's murder.
He has just enough energy to turn into a wolf come morning, and he wills himself to the breakfast table only because Sypha will come and find him if he is absent. There's a part of him that still cares and wants the esteem of the other two, all while the rest tries to pull away. The wolf is unhappy, yes, curled up in a tight little ball of fluff and growling if anyone attempts to pet him, but the wolf is there.
The next few days are the same, save for the fact that there are always two baskets of foraged goods on the kitchen counter. Sometimes a rabbit that needs to be skinned before cooking. Enough for two to live on, and whatever Alucard is doing for food, well, it too is probably in the woods.
Eventually the wolf grows restless. In the deep, dark parts of the night, the wolf is Alucard again, quietly going through Dracula's private library. An octagonal room with impossibly beautifully bound books, the calf skin and human skin impossible to differentiate from each other. Neat handwriting on the spines indicate years or collected research topics, and Alucard goes through the card catalog to see what of these Corridors can be found.
In the library, he deposits five books besides Sypha's research area. But Alucard isn't there when she finally comes to see - just that wolf, curled up in front of vent pushing out warm air.]
[What passes for 'routine' resumes after her mini meltdown in the kitchen. Neither Sypha nor Trevor set a date on their eventual departure, but it looms over her just the same. If they can't pin down a possible location for an Infinite Corridor nexus, then they'll need to get back out in the world and track down rumors of Dracula's cult. It's early summer, the roads will be full of travelers and traders, even other Speakers - the best time to hunt by word of mouth.
She'd like to know more about the Corridors first. Starting with: how to close them. Saint Germaine hadn't seen fit to share that information before everything went wrong.
Although...suppose she modifies a locator spell to search out Saint Germaine?
Sypha dashes to the library, but pulls up short at the new stack of books on 'her' desk. They're uncommonly well bound, unlike anything she's seen even in this unparalleled library. She traces the cover of the topmost volume and looks around for any sign of Alucard, the only person who could possibly know where to produce even more wonderful books from the Castle.
No dhampir graces the place with his presence, but she does find the wolf. Sypha hesitates by a worktable for a moment, then marches over and sits down on the other side of the vent. She folds her legs tailor-style and opens the first of the new books on her knee.]
You had luck in the extra special secret library, I see!
[The wolf doesn't lift his head when the scent of Sypha fills the room. It is a familiar thing, yes, a mix of old tomes, well bound leather, and that perpetual scent of green that comes from traveling the road for a lifetime. He stays still, curled up where he is and appreciating how wonderful it is to just suck up all the warm air.
But then Sypha approaches. Hell, just gets comfy, and the wolf can only just snort in quiet acknowledgement that she's there and has decided that this is where she's going to do her research. None of Alucard is surprised, admittedly, but it does take a little out of his plan to be fluffy and alone.
He lifts his head from being a curled up tight little fluff ball and rearranges himself. Now, his head rests on his paws and gold eyes look up at her.
There's a nod. Yes, he did. And there are bookmarks sticking out of the journals.]
[Let it be noted that Sypha does not reach over and immediately run her fingers through that plush-looking fur. In fact, she's due retroactive credit for keeping her hands to herself these past few days.
But where it's easy to respect humanoid-Alucard's icy demeanor now and then, it's much harder not to smile down at the wolf with its tail flipped over its nose. Impossible not to giggle when it nods, even though she's well acquainted with the intelligence behind those eyes.]
Excellent work, Inspector Lupus.
[She settles in to read, flipping from marked section to marked section with avid curiosity. Oh. This one's in Enochian, which immediately sets her pulse racing - the older a source, the more likely to be a root version which others mirror.
The Corridors, it posits, connect not just time, but also space. And yes, possibilities, a near infinite variety of them. The power needed to bring the Corridor to bear on a single version of Vlad Tepes found at the end of this particular branch of probability was...more than she can get her head around, bigger even than the massacre at Lindenfeld. That Night Creature must have had an earlier reservoir of power, or else the Corridor itself was dormant and sluggish in some sense. Sypha frowns and hunches forward, so intent on the words her nose nearly brushes the pages.]
Well, that at least gets the wolf to pick up his head and offer the Speaker a disapproving glare at the new nickname. Not a fan, Sypha. Not. A. Fan.
But the moment passes. Alucard settles back down into his tight little fluff ball, the only thing moving being his eyes. He can track which books Sypha has gone through with ease, and it seems like he's found a few good ones if her nose on the page itself is any indication.
He can be proud enough with that. But the day progresses, and Alucard eventually needs to stretch. The great lumbering wolf uncurls itself and lets out a looooooooooong whine as muscles adjust to a new position.
More than that though, one stretched the wolf walks right over to Sypha. Tilts it's head, because surely she must have found something in all of that.]
[tic tic tic go claws on the varnished floorboards. Sypha lowers her book and squints against a sudden headache - or perhaps it's been there a while and she just hadn't noticed - surprised to find Alucard standing right in front of her.]
The Corridors only anchor temporarily. Although, 'temporarily' may be measured in geological terms here, rather than human comprehension. Any map we dig up has no guarantee of being accurate, and Saint Germaine's not around to explain how to construct a detection device. Oh, and attuning a Corridor takes a truly mindboggling amount of power. Enough that your father didn't consider them a potential option to save your mother, or, or find a version of her from a reality just a little to the left of our own.
[She pauses for breath to rake her hair from her face, but leaps right back into infodumping.] The unwilling sacrifice of all the souls in Lindenfeld would have done part of it, but I think the unwilling reinvestment of souls by the Forgemasters may have played another roll. It works both ways, you see? Feeding one into the other would have created a kind of...of perpetual motion machine!
[Theory stacked upon theory stacked upon theory. Sypha slumps back against the wall, hands in her hair.] There will be more Lindenfelds until they achieve their goal. Unless we stop them. We have to stop them, we have--
[Inspector Lupus, brilliant and fluffy as he is, cannot reply. So, alas, Inspector Lupus must take a moment away from the case. Enter Inspector Sad Vampire.
Who has clearly been listening, and whose eyes are on the research material spread across Sypha's work area. A pale hand rests on top of one of the maps, like that'll help him absorb the information. It won't, obviously, but the thought of it is rather nice.]
I'm not sure that the perpetual motion concept holds water. They may only be better attuned to locating these Corridors because of some natural ability or calling, and hence they can seek out the locations with greater precision. So what that means is we're served by seeing where large flocks of these things go. Your people and their information pathways might be the best chance of dealing with the matter.
[It's all bullshit, but Alucard likes to think it sounds plausible.]
To me the problem is getting there in a reasonable amount of time. Horses and humans can only move so many miles in a day.
[How can a change so monumental be so silent? The air shifts, displaces, but there's no snapping of bone or creaking of muscle. One minute, wolf, the next, Alucard leaning over the map. Sypha's chained so tightly to her thoughts, she doubletakes. Her neck pops.]
I...yes, that could account for the observed evidence. [She brushes her fingers over the splayed papers, back and forth in nervous arcs.] Track the creatures, or track the cultists, who the creatures use to collect the energy? The Night Creatures are easier to keep tabs on, but the cultists display specific behaviors and are rooted in place. Search for overlaps.
[Activating the Speaker network is an excellent idea, though Sypha knows from her brief reunion with the caravan that her people took heavy losses during Dracula's war. The flood of darkness rerouted their long established information channels; linking them back will be the work of decades. Still it's better than nothing.
But the response time...] When you say it's 'impossible' to repair the Castle, how literal are you being?
Overlaps. Or high concentrations of say, night creature activity that anyone might consider out of place.
[Alucard knows it's easier said than done. His own eyes scan over the papers, and the thought of high scatter points rings in his ears. Transportation, swift transportation is the real enemy. Defeat one group and it could take a month to get to the next one.
At the query about the castle though? Alucard stops.]
I'm not sure. From the outset, I can say it's a tall order that would demand a truly monumental amount of work though. To begin, we'd have to recast or make anew so many pieces since they were melted.
So much for that brilliant idea. [Sypha slumps over her knees, cheek smushed against her kneecap. Her arms hang at her sides, hands palm-up on the floor.] If it were just a question of the enchantments, it might be doable, but none of us are blacksmiths. And that's supposing the broken parts could be re-used.
[It's the timing that's the biggest issue. It could take months to get as far as Livonia, while the Infinite Corridors could just as easily pop up in the Orient. How can they outpace night creatures while simultaneously monitoring them?
A possible solution strikes like lightning, jerking Sypha from her state of collapse. She slams her hands down on the books and rocks forward with a manic, fevered expression.] The mirror! There are shards all over the study! If we could reactivate that enchantment--!
--But you can control fire. [Alucard looks aside at Sypha, considering that very simple face.] There's no reason you couldn't get those flames hot enough to successfully manipulate metal.
[He's about to say something else but--nope. Sypha's mind has seized upon something much more important, although it gives Alucard a moment's pause.]
But that would only get you to a location. What about the return trip?
[Sypha looks down at her palms, a thoughtful moue to her mouth. Metal, hm? She's sliced through it before, with wind and ice, but never attempted to mold it. Perhaps, with enough time...]
You're right. Someone would need to stay behind to operate the mirror, or we'd need to know the location of another, yes? [There are bound to be more magic mirrors in the world than Infinite Nexii, but she's never heard of a listing or a map or anything of the sort. Which leaves them with the operator option.] If...if you were truly intent on staying behind...
[Her voice wavers, breaks. She smacks her hands against the table once more, this time with a frustrated shake of her head.] I don't like that. I want--I'd rather you were with us. I think so much clearer when you poke holes in my theories. If you'd been in Lindenfeld, I'm sure I...we would have seen the truth of the plot in time.
We both know it can't be Trevor. [Their Belmont is a great many things, but a magician has never been one of them. Alucard is skilled enough, even if he pales beside Sypha.] By default, it is always me.
[That's how it'll always be, won't it? Trevor and Alucard can't be trusted together. Trevor can't be left alone lest he turn terribly self destructive. Alucard can, until recently at least, be trusted to function like a relatively normal human being.
There's a miserable noise that leaves him, and it happens just as Sypha smacks her hands on the table.]
[Yes, that configuration does make the most sense, creates the best odds of success. But Alucard drips resigned misery, so Sypha grinds her teeth and thinks to hell with the odds anyway.]
It can absolutely be me, if you'll help me figure out how to reconstruct the enchantment. [The ebb and flow of power comes naturally to Sypha, it's true, but she lacks Alucard's academic grasp of theory. Without his help, it could take her weeks or even months to acquire the knowledge necessary to rebuild a sending mirror. There's a reason they're relatively rare, after all. After her experience with the limited version in the Belmont trove, she dares say she could operate even a much larger and complex one without a hitch.
And maybe, in the meantime, try to repair some of the other magical mechanisms within the Castle...] That is, if it's what you want?
[Sypha's fine with theory, once she has the access to the information. He can pull those books and sit down to walk her through whatever is needed. But he doesn't know if this is a good idea.
He and Trevor work better with her there. It's a fact of life at this point, one that really hasn't been disproved by time. Worse, the thought of going out into the world makes the dhampir sick. He can't trust himself not to overreact right now, it's just--
Honesty. Sypha respects that.]
I don't know what I want right now, Sypha. Or what is safe.
You're always safe with us. [She slides her hands across the worksurface until her fingertips bump his elbow. Careful, careful.] But I understand if you feel safer here, right now.
[It feels like a retreat, but if Lindenfeld taught her anything, it's that few situations can be made better all at once. Even if she'd caught on to the runes and the night creatures' plan sooner, even if the sacrifice had been averted, she still would have walked away ignorant to the Judge's true nature. Only by slowing down and stepping back can she hope to understand the scope of the problem.]
If you'd rather operate the mirror, that's good, too. What matters is we're a team again.
[Safer here. Yes, that's right, isn't it? So long as no one is allowed into the building, he's safe.
Alucard barely notices the fingertips against his elbow. He doesn't startle, which is doubtlessly a good thing. One never gets far by acting like a skittish horse.]
I'd have to think about it, if there's any time to allow for it.
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[Very slowly, very carefully, Sypha reaches out to tuck his hair out of his face. She does not cup his cheek the way she aches to do, or run her thumb along his crumpled brow. But she can make sure he can see her if he so chooses.] They hurt you. They gained your trust first, and they hurt you. But I know you Adrian, and I know you were trying to warn others away from being as suicidally stupid as best you could. So don't you try to tell me what I do and don't deserve.
[There's more she could say, about how she and Trevor are hardly paragons of great sense or success themselves, but no. Not now, not until he stops thinking of himself as less than human for melting down.]
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He tries to listen. He does. But in all of Sypha's words all he hears is justification for awful acts, all in her voice. Somehow that just makes it worse. He's put her in a position where those actions have to be said to be understood. Not acceptable. But understood.
Eventually, he responds.]
I think I'd like to be alone now.
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We'll...see you at breakfast. [Or she'll track him down again. Conceding to his wish for space, while he's like this, is as much as she's capable of doing.
And even then she cannot do it quietly. Sypha goes to the Hold, all right, but she stops at the bottom of the pit that once housed the circular staircase. Using pistons of ice, she shoots chunks of debris into the air and blasts them apart with wildly flung fireballs. This goes on until she's wrung out, dripping with sweat, the urge to scream killed by her grunts of effort.
She's utterly unsurprised to find Trevor watching her from the Hold's reconstructed doorway. His gaze is an open question, and Sypha does not hesitate to lay out the answers she's found.
When she's done, Trevor disappears into the woods with a hatchet in hand, lips curled back over his eyeteeth. He comes back in the wee hours of the morning with enough split logs to warm the whole Castle for a week. His anger, it turns out, is more productive than hers, at least when there's no alcohol on offer.
They don't talk about it within the Castle's walls, both too conscious of Alucard's superior hearing and silent footsteps. And Alucard, well, he holds to the letter of her request, if not the spirit of it, by appearing only as a lanky white wolf.
It makes for interesting breakfast conversation, but Sypha knows she's not the only one concerned when he turns up for the next meal the same way. And the one after that. And the one after that.]
"We can't keep on like this." [Trevor says one evening as they return from the Hold, his arms weighed down with all the books she's annotated for copying or translation. He grumbles about playing the glorified pack mule, but he never says no.]
We just have to wait him out, [Sypha reasons, because she feels it too. The ticking clock over their heads. The pressing knowledge that they're no closer to solving the riddle of the Infinity Corridor. The fact that Alucard's been a wolf for days.] He's been through something terrible. And he never had a chance to heal from the other terrible things that happened beforehand!
"I know, but-"
Also, he mentioned there might be more useful information in Dracula's private library, but not where it was or how to get into it or even if that would upset him!
"Yes, but-"
And I'm not leaving him again! I can't! We can't! He's our friend, he deserves better from--
"Sypha, I am trying to agree with you!" [Trevor has to all but holler to cut her off. They're outside the kitchen now, staring heatedly at one another. Sypha breathes hard through her nose, days of poorly stifled emotion boiling her blood. Trevor stomps into the room and dumps her books at the table, then turns back to her.] "We won't leave him. But we may need to truss him up and toss him in the wagon, that's all I'm saying."
[Sypha slumps towards him, coming up close and then leaning into him until her face is buried in his chest and his arms come round her shoulders. She hides her wobbly lower lip and reddened eyes and muffles her uneven breaths.] I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make it sound like you don't care. I know you do. I'm just...everything's so awful. I want to fix it. I don't know how.
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He has just enough energy to turn into a wolf come morning, and he wills himself to the breakfast table only because Sypha will come and find him if he is absent. There's a part of him that still cares and wants the esteem of the other two, all while the rest tries to pull away. The wolf is unhappy, yes, curled up in a tight little ball of fluff and growling if anyone attempts to pet him, but the wolf is there.
The next few days are the same, save for the fact that there are always two baskets of foraged goods on the kitchen counter. Sometimes a rabbit that needs to be skinned before cooking. Enough for two to live on, and whatever Alucard is doing for food, well, it too is probably in the woods.
Eventually the wolf grows restless. In the deep, dark parts of the night, the wolf is Alucard again, quietly going through Dracula's private library. An octagonal room with impossibly beautifully bound books, the calf skin and human skin impossible to differentiate from each other. Neat handwriting on the spines indicate years or collected research topics, and Alucard goes through the card catalog to see what of these Corridors can be found.
In the library, he deposits five books besides Sypha's research area. But Alucard isn't there when she finally comes to see - just that wolf, curled up in front of vent pushing out warm air.]
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She'd like to know more about the Corridors first. Starting with: how to close them. Saint Germaine hadn't seen fit to share that information before everything went wrong.
Although...suppose she modifies a locator spell to search out Saint Germaine?
Sypha dashes to the library, but pulls up short at the new stack of books on 'her' desk. They're uncommonly well bound, unlike anything she's seen even in this unparalleled library. She traces the cover of the topmost volume and looks around for any sign of Alucard, the only person who could possibly know where to produce even more wonderful books from the Castle.
No dhampir graces the place with his presence, but she does find the wolf. Sypha hesitates by a worktable for a moment, then marches over and sits down on the other side of the vent. She folds her legs tailor-style and opens the first of the new books on her knee.]
You had luck in the extra special secret library, I see!
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But then Sypha approaches. Hell, just gets comfy, and the wolf can only just snort in quiet acknowledgement that she's there and has decided that this is where she's going to do her research. None of Alucard is surprised, admittedly, but it does take a little out of his plan to be fluffy and alone.
He lifts his head from being a curled up tight little fluff ball and rearranges himself. Now, his head rests on his paws and gold eyes look up at her.
There's a nod. Yes, he did. And there are bookmarks sticking out of the journals.]
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But where it's easy to respect humanoid-Alucard's icy demeanor now and then, it's much harder not to smile down at the wolf with its tail flipped over its nose. Impossible not to giggle when it nods, even though she's well acquainted with the intelligence behind those eyes.]
Excellent work, Inspector Lupus.
[She settles in to read, flipping from marked section to marked section with avid curiosity. Oh. This one's in Enochian, which immediately sets her pulse racing - the older a source, the more likely to be a root version which others mirror.
The Corridors, it posits, connect not just time, but also space. And yes, possibilities, a near infinite variety of them. The power needed to bring the Corridor to bear on a single version of Vlad Tepes found at the end of this particular branch of probability was...more than she can get her head around, bigger even than the massacre at Lindenfeld. That Night Creature must have had an earlier reservoir of power, or else the Corridor itself was dormant and sluggish in some sense. Sypha frowns and hunches forward, so intent on the words her nose nearly brushes the pages.]
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Well, that at least gets the wolf to pick up his head and offer the Speaker a disapproving glare at the new nickname. Not a fan, Sypha. Not. A. Fan.
But the moment passes. Alucard settles back down into his tight little fluff ball, the only thing moving being his eyes. He can track which books Sypha has gone through with ease, and it seems like he's found a few good ones if her nose on the page itself is any indication.
He can be proud enough with that. But the day progresses, and Alucard eventually needs to stretch. The great lumbering wolf uncurls itself and lets out a looooooooooong whine as muscles adjust to a new position.
More than that though, one stretched the wolf walks right over to Sypha. Tilts it's head, because surely she must have found something in all of that.]
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The Corridors only anchor temporarily. Although, 'temporarily' may be measured in geological terms here, rather than human comprehension. Any map we dig up has no guarantee of being accurate, and Saint Germaine's not around to explain how to construct a detection device. Oh, and attuning a Corridor takes a truly mindboggling amount of power. Enough that your father didn't consider them a potential option to save your mother, or, or find a version of her from a reality just a little to the left of our own.
[She pauses for breath to rake her hair from her face, but leaps right back into infodumping.] The unwilling sacrifice of all the souls in Lindenfeld would have done part of it, but I think the unwilling reinvestment of souls by the Forgemasters may have played another roll. It works both ways, you see? Feeding one into the other would have created a kind of...of perpetual motion machine!
[Theory stacked upon theory stacked upon theory. Sypha slumps back against the wall, hands in her hair.] There will be more Lindenfelds until they achieve their goal. Unless we stop them. We have to stop them, we have--
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Who has clearly been listening, and whose eyes are on the research material spread across Sypha's work area. A pale hand rests on top of one of the maps, like that'll help him absorb the information. It won't, obviously, but the thought of it is rather nice.]
I'm not sure that the perpetual motion concept holds water. They may only be better attuned to locating these Corridors because of some natural ability or calling, and hence they can seek out the locations with greater precision. So what that means is we're served by seeing where large flocks of these things go. Your people and their information pathways might be the best chance of dealing with the matter.
[It's all bullshit, but Alucard likes to think it sounds plausible.]
To me the problem is getting there in a reasonable amount of time. Horses and humans can only move so many miles in a day.
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I...yes, that could account for the observed evidence. [She brushes her fingers over the splayed papers, back and forth in nervous arcs.] Track the creatures, or track the cultists, who the creatures use to collect the energy? The Night Creatures are easier to keep tabs on, but the cultists display specific behaviors and are rooted in place. Search for overlaps.
[Activating the Speaker network is an excellent idea, though Sypha knows from her brief reunion with the caravan that her people took heavy losses during Dracula's war. The flood of darkness rerouted their long established information channels; linking them back will be the work of decades. Still it's better than nothing.
But the response time...] When you say it's 'impossible' to repair the Castle, how literal are you being?
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[Alucard knows it's easier said than done. His own eyes scan over the papers, and the thought of high scatter points rings in his ears. Transportation, swift transportation is the real enemy. Defeat one group and it could take a month to get to the next one.
At the query about the castle though? Alucard stops.]
I'm not sure. From the outset, I can say it's a tall order that would demand a truly monumental amount of work though. To begin, we'd have to recast or make anew so many pieces since they were melted.
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[It's the timing that's the biggest issue. It could take months to get as far as Livonia, while the Infinite Corridors could just as easily pop up in the Orient. How can they outpace night creatures while simultaneously monitoring them?
A possible solution strikes like lightning, jerking Sypha from her state of collapse. She slams her hands down on the books and rocks forward with a manic, fevered expression.] The mirror! There are shards all over the study! If we could reactivate that enchantment--!
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[He's about to say something else but--nope. Sypha's mind has seized upon something much more important, although it gives Alucard a moment's pause.]
But that would only get you to a location. What about the return trip?
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You're right. Someone would need to stay behind to operate the mirror, or we'd need to know the location of another, yes? [There are bound to be more magic mirrors in the world than Infinite Nexii, but she's never heard of a listing or a map or anything of the sort. Which leaves them with the operator option.] If...if you were truly intent on staying behind...
[Her voice wavers, breaks. She smacks her hands against the table once more, this time with a frustrated shake of her head.] I don't like that. I want--I'd rather you were with us. I think so much clearer when you poke holes in my theories. If you'd been in Lindenfeld, I'm sure I...we would have seen the truth of the plot in time.
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[That's how it'll always be, won't it? Trevor and Alucard can't be trusted together. Trevor can't be left alone lest he turn terribly self destructive. Alucard can, until recently at least, be trusted to function like a relatively normal human being.
There's a miserable noise that leaves him, and it happens just as Sypha smacks her hands on the table.]
When have any of us ever gotten what we wanted?
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It can absolutely be me, if you'll help me figure out how to reconstruct the enchantment. [The ebb and flow of power comes naturally to Sypha, it's true, but she lacks Alucard's academic grasp of theory. Without his help, it could take her weeks or even months to acquire the knowledge necessary to rebuild a sending mirror. There's a reason they're relatively rare, after all. After her experience with the limited version in the Belmont trove, she dares say she could operate even a much larger and complex one without a hitch.
And maybe, in the meantime, try to repair some of the other magical mechanisms within the Castle...] That is, if it's what you want?
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[Sypha's fine with theory, once she has the access to the information. He can pull those books and sit down to walk her through whatever is needed. But he doesn't know if this is a good idea.
He and Trevor work better with her there. It's a fact of life at this point, one that really hasn't been disproved by time. Worse, the thought of going out into the world makes the dhampir sick. He can't trust himself not to overreact right now, it's just--
Honesty. Sypha respects that.]
I don't know what I want right now, Sypha. Or what is safe.
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[It feels like a retreat, but if Lindenfeld taught her anything, it's that few situations can be made better all at once. Even if she'd caught on to the runes and the night creatures' plan sooner, even if the sacrifice had been averted, she still would have walked away ignorant to the Judge's true nature. Only by slowing down and stepping back can she hope to understand the scope of the problem.]
If you'd rather operate the mirror, that's good, too. What matters is we're a team again.
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Alucard barely notices the fingertips against his elbow. He doesn't startle, which is doubtlessly a good thing. One never gets far by acting like a skittish horse.]
I'd have to think about it, if there's any time to allow for it.