[Castlevania: Symphony of the Night Novel — Episode 16] The Second Castle Hanging from the Sky
The first spike aimed for Alucard’s heart.
It sprang from beyond the blue-sealed door at the top of the Royal Chapel stairs as though it had been waiting for him. Steel sliding through stone made the first sound. Then a long white point split the lightless corridor and struck the center of his chest.
Alucard did not evade it.
The breastplate of the Spike Breaker flared red. The impact drove through his ribs before recoiling. A crack spread from the place where the spike had touched the armor, and the metal broke into three pieces like a dry bone. One sharp fragment grazed his cheek.
A line of blood ran to his jaw.
He wiped it away with the back of his hand and crossed the threshold.
Shrrrk.
Spikes emerged from both walls. Iron plates shifted beneath the floor, while spearheads suspended from the ceiling turned to follow his steps. The passage was shorter than the one he had crossed in the Catacombs, but more malicious. It did not conceal its weapons in darkness. It displayed every blade and told him there was nowhere to move.
Alucard did not shorten his stride.
A spike struck his left shoulder. One of the old scars on the armor ignited, and the iron point crumbled. Another thrust toward his right thigh and collapsed before it could tear through his boot. With every shattered spike, the second heartbeat within the Spike Breaker grew faster.
Thud.
Thud.
The armor did not hate the spikes. It merely waited for the instant they tried to pierce it, then returned the shape of destruction it remembered.
Halfway through the passage, Maria’s voice reached him.
“Richter...”
This time it was close. Even her hurried breath could be heard between the grinding of the spikes.
Alucard stopped.
“Answer me. Please.”
The voice came from beyond the wall to his right. There was no door there. Alucard judged the thickness of the stone and tapped it with one finger. A solid note returned.
When Maria’s words ended, laughter followed.
It was low and wet, drawn out without a single breath being taken.
It was the same laughter he had first heard below the stairway.
Alucard closed his eyes and released a brief echoing cry.
The sound swept through the passage and returned. There was nothing behind the wall. Instead, a black mass clung near the ceiling. It had neither neck nor face, only a thin membrane filled with stolen voices. Whenever the membrane contracted, Maria’s breathing and the laughter emerged in turn.
Alucard drew Mormegil halfway from its sheath.
The creature spoke first.
“Adrian.”
His mother’s voice.
The black blade cleared its sheath.
After one stroke, the membrane on the ceiling split open. The voices of women, children, and old men poured out together—cries for help, the names of the lost, confessions that had never reached their intended ears. The stolen words filled the corridor, then seeped away between the fragments of broken spikes.
Maria’s voice remained until the end.
“That cannot be true.”
Alucard shook the blade clean and sheathed it.
Those words had not been fashioned by the demon. It had stolen them from somewhere else, from a voice that had truly spoken them.
He walked on.
The last spike was thicker than the others. An iron column as broad as a man’s body thrust directly toward him. Alucard drew his left foot back and lowered his shoulder. Instead of evading it, he received it against his chest.
The impact rang through the chapel spires.
Every scar on the Spike Breaker burned red. The iron column split down the center. Its two halves passed on either side of Alucard and buried themselves in the walls.
A small chamber lay beyond it.
There was no light, yet a silver circle resting at the center of the floor held the darkness at bay.
A ring.
Alucard stopped before the pedestal. When he brought the Gold Ring close, the two metals rang in recognition. Gold gave a low, warm note. Silver answered with a sound that was cold and clear.
A few words remained engraved inside the Silver Ring.
...in Clock Tower.
The worn inscription on the Gold Ring continued in his memory.
Wear... Clock...
The two incomplete commands pointed to the same place.
Wear them in the clock room.
Alucard lifted the Silver Ring. At once, the stone wall to one side of the chamber split and opened a narrow exit. Beyond the gap stood one of the high galleries of the Royal Chapel.
Maria waited at the far end.
She held a small dagger and was struggling to recover her breath. Dust covered the hem of her clothes, and her right sleeve had been torn. Yet her injuries were not what drew the eye first. When she saw Alucard, a question appeared on her face before relief could reach it.
“Did you find Richter?”
Alucard answered without approaching her.
“I found a Belmont.”
Maria tightened her grip on the dagger.
“Then he really is here.”
“He called himself the lord of this castle.”
One of the candles above the gallery went out.
Maria searched Alucard’s face. Her eyes looked for a lie. Then they moved past him to the corridor of broken spikes, as though something might still be hiding there, ready to overturn what he had said.
“That cannot be true.”
The same words the creature’s membrane had preserved.
“The Richter I know would never become such a man.”
“You know that this castle chooses the weakest moment in a person.”
“That does not mean the person becomes someone else.”
Alucard did not answer.
Maria found no agreement in his silence. She put away the dagger and turned. After two steps, she stopped, though she did not look back.
“I will see the truth for myself.”
She disappeared beyond the gallery.
For a moment, Alucard watched the place where she had stood. Memory could protect a person. It could also keep them from seeing what had to be seen. Those who carried memories believed the choice belonged to them, but the castle prepared even that choice in advance.
He closed one hand around the Gold Ring and Silver Ring.
This time he would move before the castle could prepare its answer.
---
Two different measures of time moved through the clock room in the Marble Gallery.
The great hands crept toward midnight, while the statues on either side guarded separate silences. One passage stood open and the other remained closed. When Alucard stepped into the central circle, the turning of gears sounded far above him.
He put on the Gold Ring first.
The hour hand stopped.
He placed the Silver Ring on a finger of his other hand.
The minute hand began to turn backward.
Once.
Twice.
The statues lowered their spears and struck the floor at the same instant.
A thin crack appeared in the marble. It began at the toe of Alucard’s boot, ran beneath the clock, then closed into a circle. The entire center of the floor descended like the lid of a vast tomb.
Cold air rose from below.
Alucard stood at the edge and looked down. A spiral stairway reached deep into the heart of the castle. There were no windows or candles along its walls, but the two rings shone in turn, revealing the next step.
A small chamber waited at the bottom.
Maria was inside.
The certainty she had shown in the gallery was gone. Her dagger lay on the floor. Her hands were folded tightly over her knees, and there was no way to tell how long she had been sitting that way.
“Alucard.”
She rose as he descended the final steps.
“You were right. Richter has joined forces with the enemy.”
Alucard surveyed the walls. Ancient sacred paintings hung there, but the eyes of every figure had been blackened.
“Was it his own will?”
Maria could not answer at once.
“No. I cannot believe that.” She steadied her breathing. “Someone is controlling him. Whatever happens, we cannot harm Richter.”
“But he must be stopped.”
“I know.”
Maria removed a fine chain from her neck. A small pair of spectacles emerged from beneath her collar. Clear lenses rested in a silver frame. They bore no ornament, and their edges had been worn smooth like the remnants of an old prayer.
She offered them with both hands.
“If you wear these, you can see beyond evil illusions.”
Alucard took the glasses. The lenses were cold. Yet as his fingers touched them, a layer of darkness peeled away from the chamber. Black threads appeared over the erased eyes in the paintings. Every thread passed through the ceiling and climbed toward the highest place in the castle.
The Castle Keep.
“Save Richter.”
Maria’s voice was quiet, but it did not tremble.
Alucard folded the glasses and placed them inside his coat.
“I will do what I can.”
The words were too cold to be called a promise. Maria nodded all the same. By now, she knew he did not speak merely to offer comfort.
Alucard turned and climbed the stairs.
Behind him came the sound of Maria lowering herself to her knees.
Her prayer began too softly for him to hear.
---
When Alucard pushed open the doors of the Castle Keep, the night poured into the hall.
Half the roof of the summit chamber had collapsed. The moon appeared and vanished between black clouds. Broken pillars stood like bones that had failed to support the sky. A red carpet stretched across the floor, torn down the center and drawn apart to either side.
Richter Belmont stood at the far end.
The Vampire Killer hung from one hand. The tip of the whip moved slowly over the stone. Every link carried the scent of old holy oil and the blood of monsters. For centuries, that weapon had sought out and slain those who bore Dracula’s blood.
Recognizing Alucard’s blood, the whip trembled.
Richter smiled.
“I have been waiting for you.”
Alucard unfolded the Holy Glasses and put them on. The colors of the hall changed through the lenses. Moonlight turned pale, and black veins appeared within the shadows of the pillars.
An orb floated above Richter’s head.
Nothing had occupied that space to the naked eye. Now a translucent membrane glowed green, enclosing something like a slowly turning black pupil. Fine threads descended from the orb and pierced Richter’s temples, throat, and the wrist holding the whip.
“Why would a Belmont seek Dracula’s resurrection?”
Richter’s smile hardened. For an instant, his eyes moved a fraction later than the pupil inside the orb.
“Once every century,” he said. “Dracula rises only once every century. I defeated him, and my purpose was over.”
He raised the whip.
“If I bring him back, then the battle need never end. It can continue for eternity.”
Alucard drew his sword.
“If those are truly your feelings...”
The whip struck before his words reached the floor.
The first attack did not come from the front. Richter turned his wrist, winding the Vampire Killer around a pillar and changing its direction. Alucard lifted his blade to guard his front, then sensed holy power approaching from behind.
He ducked.
The tip of the whip severed several strands of silver hair. The returning chain struck his side. The Spike Breaker absorbed the impact, but it could not shatter the holy power carried within it. White fire entered between the plates of the armor.
Alucard slid back three steps.
Richter closed the distance. Holding the whip short, he lashed it in quick succession. The first blow sought Alucard’s face, the second his knee, and the third struck the floor where he would have escaped. Alucard turned two attacks with the flat of his sword. Before the third, his body dissolved into mist.
The whip tore through the black vapor.
But holy flame lingered inside the mist. Smoke rose from Alucard’s left hand when he regained his body.
He looked at the orb before he looked at the wound.
Whenever Richter attacked, the orb withdrew behind him. Whenever Alucard raised his sword, it moved to the opposite side and used Richter’s body as a shield. The one controlling him was using more than the Belmont’s strength. It was also using Alucard’s determination to keep him alive.
Richter threw a small vial to the floor.
Glass shattered, and blue fire spread across the carpet. The flames divided to either side and closed Alucard’s retreat. Beyond them, Richter swung the whip in a widening circle.
If he crouched, the flames would take him.
If he jumped, the whip would catch him.
The Leap Stone drove Alucard upward. As the whip passed below his feet, he stepped once more upon empty air and rose higher. He came level with the orb.
Mormegil carved a black arc.
Just before its point touched the sphere, Richter hurled himself between them. The handle of the whip struck Alucard’s wrist. His sword veered aside and grazed Richter’s shoulder.
Red blood spread across the Belmont’s coat.
Maria’s words returned.
Whatever happens, we cannot harm Richter.
Alucard reversed his sword as he landed. From then on, he faced Richter with the flat rather than the edge.
The pupil inside the orb narrowed.
Richter did not look at his wound. Instead, he laughed.
“More.”
He spread his arms.
“Fight me. My thirst for battle is not yet quenched.”
The air in the hall was drawn upward. The holy water burning across the floor rose like rain returning to the sky. Hundreds of blue droplets gathered beneath the roofless night.
Then they fell together.
A sacred downpour hammered the stone. Alucard wrapped his cloak around his body, but the cloth began to burn with the first drop. Light entered between the plates of the Spike Breaker. Smoke rose from his skin.
Only the broken pillars offered shelter.
Alucard ran toward one, then stopped.
The orb did not avoid the rain.
The holy water passed through Richter and the sphere without touching either of them. The controlling power was safe within the Belmont’s own sacred attack.
Then that same power was protecting the membrane around the orb.
Alucard sheathed Mormegil.
Trying to break the shell with his sword had been his first mistake.
He threw himself into the rain.
Richter lashed out. Alucard did not evade the chain. He caught it around his left forearm. Holy fire burned into his flesh, but he tightened his grip and pulled.
Richter was dragged forward.
The orb moved with him.
The invisible threads stretched taut, bringing the sphere lower over Richter’s head.
Alucard kicked him in the chest. It was not a killing blow, only enough to force space between them. Richter staggered back, while the orb, caught by its own threads, followed a heartbeat too late.
That brief delay.
There lay the opening.
Alucard became a bat.
Black wings threaded between the falling drops of holy water. The orb tried to climb again, but the taut threads held it to Richter’s body. Alucard rose above it and returned to human form.
He seized Mormegil with both hands.
The sword’s point did not seek the orb. It aimed for the black threads beneath it.
The weight of his falling body entered the blade.
One thread broke.
Richter’s left hand went slack.
A second thread parted.
The whip fell to the floor.
The orb screamed. It was neither a human voice nor the cry of a beast, but the sound of hundreds of nails scraping together inside a glass vessel.
The last thread entered the back of Richter’s neck.
Alucard stopped his sword. The orb pulled the remaining thread, forcing Richter’s body in front of the blade.
For an instant, clarity returned to Richter’s eyes.
“Now...”
His lips barely moved.
There was no way to know whether the word belonged to the sphere or to the man still trapped beneath it.
Alucard released his sword.
Mormegil struck the floor.
With both hands empty, he caught Richter’s shoulder and twisted. Their positions reversed. As the last thread pulled Richter backward, Alucard drove the shoulder of the Spike Breaker into the orb.
Every red scar on the armor ignited.
The armor that remembered the shape of spikes now shattered one that could not be seen.
A crack appeared across the surface of the orb.
Alucard drove his fist into it.
Green light exploded.
The controlling sphere burst into thousands of pieces. Fragments like glass turned to black ash before reaching the floor. The final thread in Richter’s neck burned away.
Silence fell without warning.
Richter dropped to his knees.
The Vampire Killer lay several paces from his hand. Without its master, the whip no longer trembled toward Alucard’s blood.
A human figure emerged from the heart of the shattered orb.
Black vestments. A withered face. Violet fire burning inside empty eyes.
It resembled less a body than the shadow of something watching from far away.
Alucard retrieved his sword.
“So you were the one controlling Belmont.”
The priest’s mouth curved upward.
“Indeed. I am the dark priest called Shaft.”
His voice came from every wall in the hall.
“This world must be cleansed in the forge of chaos.”
Alucard swung his sword. The blade crossed the priest’s chest, but the figure scattered like smoke. Only its laughter climbed into the night sky.
The entire castle tilted.
No.
It was not the castle that moved.
It was the clouds.
Black clouds divided around the moon and revealed the immense shadow hidden above them. Spires pointed downward. Roofs hung over empty air. The tip of its highest tower faced the summit of the castle below.
Another castle.
It bore the same walls and towers, yet every direction had been overturned. It descended slowly from the sky.
Fragments of broken stone rose from the floor of the hall. Small pieces fell upward toward the other castle. Alucard’s silver hair was drawn toward the heavens.
The doors burst open, and Maria ran inside. When she saw Richter on his knees, she lowered herself beside him.
Richter covered his face with both hands.
“What... have I done?”
Maria answered by gripping his shoulder. Her fingers tightened as though to confirm that he was alive.
“Thank you, Alucard.”
Richter raised his head. The clouded eyes were his own again.
He stared at Alucard, then stopped breathing in disbelief.
“Alucard...? Do you mean the Alucard who fought beside my ancestor Trevor? That was three hundred years—”
“That is not important now.”
Alucard looked toward the castle in the sky.
“Is the one who controlled you in that castle?”
Richter followed his gaze. The blood drained from his face.
“Yes. I believe so.”
Black light gathered between the summits of the two castles. It was neither door nor bridge, yet it began to assume the shape of a path that could be crossed. Stone dust falling upward was drawn along it and vanished into the entrance of the Inverted Castle.
Alucard sheathed Mormegil.
“Maria. Take Richter and leave this castle.”
“And you?”
“I will finish this.”
Maria opened her mouth to object, then stopped. Instead, she looked into his eyes through the Holy Glasses.
“Come back.”
Alucard did not answer.
He stood before the black path. Beneath his feet lay the floor of the castle he knew. Above him, the ceiling of the same castle stretched like another earth.
The wind blew backward between the two worlds.
And from the lowest window of the castle hanging in the sky, a vast wing slowly unfolded.
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