บท 8: Vol. 1. Chapter 7. Learning with a Vampire
In the seclusion of the gaming room, a tension-filled meeting unfolded between two distinctly different women.
Rosalind, embodying the quintessence of British nobility with her perfect posture and elegant demeanor, faced off against a little girl that exuded elegance and pride.
Altrouge who sat with a casual air of elegance, shot Rosalind a cold gaze with her wine-red eyes, sending ripples of unease through her.
Gathering her composure, Rosalind ventured into the heart of their discussion.
"Lady Brunestud, would you fill me in on the agreement you struck with my son?" She inquired, her voice steady yet betraying a hint of concern.
Altrouge acknowledged her request with a nod, her response laced with a smugness that only served to tighten the knot in Rosalind's stomach.
"Yes, your son was so kind as to offer me compensation, after I offered to help him out with his unique element," Altrouge said, making Rosalind internally wince.
She could only internally berate her son, on how he had let his unique element slip to someone like Altrouge, after she had all but beaten into him the importance of keeping it secret.
"How generous of him," Rosalind commented, earning a closed eye smirk from Altrouge.
"Indeed. And I naturally accepted such a generous offer," Altrouge said in a smug tone.
"The terms were that I help him with training and exploring his element, and in return I get a supply of 250ml of his blood on a weekly basis, as well as free room and board here in the manor, and when the need arises, free trips to France. In exchange, me and Cath Palug will follow a few house rules as long as we stay here," she explained, making Rosalind feel a pit deepening in her stomach.
"I'm failing to see why my son's blood is necessary, he is young and needs to keep as much of his blood inside him as possible for a stable growth. We can provide other sources of blood inste—" Rosalind's counter was interrupted by an expressionless Altrouge, making Rosalind feel uncomfortable.
"Girl, don't try to fool me, we both know that his blood is incomparable to anyone else's blood in this era," Altrouge said, while giving Rosalind a piercing look.
"The second I smelled his blood, I thought that I had returned to the Age of Gods, and I nearly assaulted him if it wasn't for Primate Murder guarding him," she explained, making Rosalind gulp in nervousness.
"If you told me that you somehow stumbled into the reverse side of the world, and then been assaulted by a dragon as an explanation for how Alistair came to be, I'd believe you," she said, making Rosalind interject.
"As hard as it may be to believe, Alistair was conceived just as any child would be," she said, making Altrouge cross her arms and lean into her seat, while giving Rosalind a 'I don't believe you' look.
"Your skepticism is completely justified, but honestly, I'm quite captivated by your son," Altrouge confessed, her expression softening into a fond smile.
She reminisced, her gaze drifting towards the door through which Alistair had exited. "I've never before encountered someone who, despite being visibly petrified of me, would still engage with me as though we were friends."
She chuckled lightly, a sparkle of amusement in her wine-red eyes as she leaned in closer to Rosalind. "You should've seen the look on his face when I revealed my identity and that the creature he was affectionately stroking was none other than Primate Murder."
With a giggle, she covered her mouth gracefully, her laughter barely contained. "The poor boy was practically on the verge of a panic attack—utterly hilarious."
"And yet, despite his overwhelming fear, he continued to pet the little beast and converse with me," she continued, her tone laced with admiration. "There's something truly fascinating about him—so youthful yet so mature, so frightened yet so brave."
Addressing Rosalind's initial concern, Altrouge grew serious. "As for what you asked earlier, my current interest in Alistair is purely to watch him grow. But, who knows? My interest might evolve as he matures." This statement prompted a sharp look from Rosalind.
"It seems you've taken a rather intense interest in my son. From what I understand, those who catch the fleeting fascination of an ancestor often meet tragic ends or become dead apostles themselves," Rosalind countered, her tone firm, though Altrouge appeared unmoved.
"I've made a promise not to wreak havoc or harm anyone in Britain while our agreement stands. Your son will be safe from me, rest assured, as long as you consent to our terms."
Altrouge's smile then revealed her pointed canines, causing Rosalind to stiffen. "It appears I have little choice in the matter," Rosalind conceded, her voice tight.
Altrouge's sly grin remained. "Perhaps you'll find some comfort in knowing I'm open to some suggestions and might even offer my assistance to a few small things," she offered, extending her hand.
"So, do we have an agreement?" After a moment of hesitation, Rosalind reached out, her hand meeting Altrouge's cold one. "Agreed." The moment Rosalind consented, she felt a peculiar pressure envelop her essence, which vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
Withdrawing her hand, Rosalind slumped back into her chair, her arms crossed in a show of resignation, her air of nobility having almost completely vanished once the deal was struck.
An expression of mild annoyance took over her features, a visible vein pulsing at her temple as she cast a weary gaze towards Altrouge.
"I can't deal with this sober…" she muttered under her breath, eliciting a smirk from the ancient vampire. Her fear of the vampire haven taken a nosedive after the contract was established, only for it to be replaced by a deep annoyance for her thanks to the headaches she had given her today.
With a deliberate clap, Rosalind called upwards, "Golem butler!" At her command, pieces of stone detached from the ceiling, falling down before seamlessly assembling into a humanoid figure on the floor.
"What may I do for you, my Lady?" the golem inquired, bowing slightly. Rosalind, barely acknowledging its presence, made her request.
"Fetch me a bottle of the 1926 Macallan, and a glass—" "Make it two glasses, and add some ice, please," Altrouge interjected with a sly grin, prompting a weary sigh from Rosalind.
"Actually, make that two bottles…" Rosalind corrected herself, her voice laden with resignation. The golem nodded in understanding.
"Right away, my Lady," it responded before exiting the room. Altrouge watched the golem leave with a hint of curiosity, then turned her attention to the ceiling, which showed no signs of disruption from its earlier disassembly.
"That's quite innovative," she remarked, only to be met with a groan from Rosalind.
"Do me a favor and save your comments until after I've had a drink or two. You've already given me enough to fret over for one day," Rosalind implored, covering her eyes in exasperation.
Altrouge simply chuckled, leaning back in her chair. "Oh, come now, it's hardly my fault you're so entrenched in Clock Tower politics. They all should realize by now they're powerless against me. Why the commotion?" she reasoned, prompting Rosalind to peek through her fingers with a look that screamed 'This is all your fault', to which Altrouge responded with a light snort of amusement.
As swiftly as it had departed, the golem returned to the room, its arms carrying a tray adorned with two bottles of whisky and a set of glasses, each cradling a large ice cube.
Approaching Rosalind, it awaited her gesture before placing a glass in her hand and filling it with a generous pour of the amber liquid, and then doing the same for Altrouge.
No sooner had Rosalind's fingers curled around her glass did she take a deep gulp, a sigh of relief escaping her lips as the warmth of the drink spread through her. "Ah, that's exactly what I needed," she murmured appreciatively.
Altrouge, observing the visibly relaxed Rosalind, delicately sipped her whisky, her gaze lingering on the content noblewoman.
Rosalind, feeling a bit more at ease, shifted to a more comfortable position in her chair, preparing to enjoy another sip when a sudden scream pierced the silence.
The sound was enough to startle Rosalind, drawing a curious look from Altrouge, who glanced towards the source of the commotion and then back at Rosalind, silently seeking an explanation.
Rosalind, however, could only respond with a low chuckle, the corners of her mouth turning up in amusement. "It would seem my assistant found Alistair…" she said with mirth. Feeling somewhat bad for not having immediately informed Amelia about their new 'house pet'.
~~Fate/False Order~~
Alistair leaned casually against the cool stone walls of the manor's grand entrance, arms folded, his sharp green eyes tracking a sleek, black Rolls-Royce Phantom V as it glided to a stop in front of the house.
The car's dark, tinted windows concealed its passengers from view. Straightening up, Alistair walked down the steps, ready to welcome the car's occupants.
The vehicle had barely come to a halt when Amelia, in a visibly tense state, hurried out to open the passenger door.
The door swung open to reveal Altrouge leaping out, with the Beast of Gaia awkwardly nestled in her arms, its tiny feet frantically paddling the air in a futile bid for freedom.
Approaching them, Alistair reached out, his gesture directed at Cath.
"Hand him over, he looks like he's having a rough time," he observed, eliciting a pitiful "Kyuuu..." from the distressed creature.
Altrouge, with a playful pout, reluctantly complied, transferring the fluffy burden to Alistair.
"I was hoping for a hug, but I suppose this will do," she teased, her mood lightening as Cath skillfully ascended to its preferred perch atop Alistair's head.
Not missing a beat, Alistair closed the distance and enveloped Altrouge in a light hug.
"So, Altrouge, how was France?" he inquired, layering his voice with a hint of feigned interest that brought a chuckle from Altrouge.
"The sights were as underwhelming as ever, but the 'cuisine' had its moments," she quipped, a smirk playing on her lips.
Releasing from the hug, Alistair gestured towards the manor. "Let's head inside. You can fill me in on all your misadventures there," he suggested, earning a nod of agreement from Altrouge as she started towards the house.
Side by side, they entered the manor, Altrouge beginning her tale of the havoc wrought upon the unsuspecting village of Goussainville. Cath Palug, now comfortably situated, contributed his own enthusiastic "Fou" and "Kyuu" to the conversation, particularly when Altrouge highlighted his own hunting exploits during their French escapade.
After reaching an agreement with Rosalind regarding her stay at the Pendragon estate, Altrouge had promptly departed England. Rosalind, in her bid to divert the Clock Tower's attention away from her, had pleaded with Altrouge to make her exit from England as public as possible.
Generously, Altrouge took her leave, accompanied by Cath and two of her aides who had been discreetly stationed outside the Pendragon estate's bounded field during her visit. Upon her return, Rosalind ensured Altrouge's re-entry into the country was both covert and befitting the luxury due to a guest of their stature.
Upon entering the gaming room, Altrouge wasted no time heading for the arcade machines, eager to conquer a game she had left unfinished. Alistair trailed behind, his curiosity piqued. "Could I perhaps ask you a few questions?" he ventured, receiving a noncommittal hum in response.
Encouraged, he delved into his questions. "I've been reading about Dead Apostles and have a few questions. Care to enlighten me?" he asked, igniting a spark of amusement in Altrouge.
"First, let's see what you've gathered so far. What defines a Dead Apostle?" she asked in an amused tone, finding the act of teaching someone about her own kind as some sort of amusing joke.
Chin in hand, Alistair pondered for a moment before responding. "From my understanding, they are creatures that fall under the category of 'dead' due to their inability to generate Od, as any living being can do, forcing them to gain Od from other sources, most commonly through drinking blood. And without it, they would rapidly decay," he detailed, earning a nod of acknowledgment from Altrouge, her attention momentarily drifting from her game.
"Why refer to them as creatures and not vampires, which is the common practice among magi?" she prodded, curious about his choice of words.
"To be classified as a vampire implies the capability to propagate one's condition, akin to how lycanthropy spreads. However, not all Apostles can transmit their condition, such as the Forest of Einnashe, the seventh ancestor. It's a parasitic entity that relies on blood for sustenance but doesn't convert its victims into Dead Apostles," Alistair explained.
Altrouge acknowledged Alistair's insight with a note of appreciation. "Quite impressive, indeed. Most magi would lump them all together under the term 'vampires' without a second thought. And using the seventh seat as an example was clever; few recognize that surviving an encounter with him typically only results in a severe anemia," she said, her voice light, ending with a chuckle.
"Your understanding of the basics impresses me, sparking my curiosity about what more you wish to learn," she remarked, stealing a quick glance at Alistair.
However, her momentary distraction proved costly as her character was hit by a barrel in the game, costing her a life. "Damn it!" she exclaimed, frustration evident as her fist left a dent in the arcade machine.
Alistair wisely chose to skip commenting on her mistake and pressed on with his questioning. "Why is Cath considered a member, given he's more of a living phantasmal beast, with no need to rely on external Od for survival?" His question elicited a snort from Altrouge.
"The Ancestor list isn't exclusive to traditional vampires; it's more a collection of beings with dangerous tendencies and some vampiric characteristics. Take ORT, or Type-Mercury, for example—an actual alien. Its inclusion as an Ancestor is solely because it exhibits minor vampiric traits," she explained passionately, as if getting something that had been bothering her off her chest.
"So, by that rationale, once it became known that my dear Cath had taken up drinking human blood for sport, they hastily branded him an Ancestor, and the title stuck," she concluded with a dismissive huff.
Alistair, with a thoughtful scratch of his chin and a playful smirk, teased, "Well… onto the next topic…" His words trailed into a slight cough before he ventured into more curious waters.
"You've mentioned being a 'True Ancestor,' but I've found the details rather scarce…" This inquiry seemed to visibly take the wind out of Altrouge's sails, prompting her to pause the game and swivel around, her expression a mix of annoyance and resignation.
With a weary wave towards a nearby couch, she sighed, "Brace yourself for a lengthy explanation." Her tone, laden with fatigue.
Heeding her direction, Alistair settled next to her on the couch, attentive and ready. Altrouge, sinking back into the cushions, effortlessly plucked Cath from his perch atop Alistair's head, before placing him on her lap.
The creature's startled "Keee!" echoed briefly before it resigned to its fate, curling up under Altrouge's soothing strokes.
Her gaze drifted to a distant point on the wall, her eyes seemingly looking into the distant past.
"There was a time when Gaia, Earth's own consciousness, grappled with the relentless devastation wrought by humanity. Powerless to curb the human onslaught, it sought aid from the cosmos, adhering to the principle that only a planet can rightly adjudicate another."
She recounted with the poise of a seasoned story teller, "It was Brunestud of the Crimson Moon, known as the Ultimate one of the Moon, who heeded Gaia's call, forging a pact: in return for refuge on Earth, Crimson Moon would endow Gaia with a means to preserve itself. Thus, the True Ancestors were conceived—embodiments of the Counter Force, designed to purge the blight of human corruption and restore the Earth to its pristine condition."
"But there was a hitch," she began, her voice taking on a weary tone.
"The True Ancestors had an inherent flaw. Being manifestations of Earth's will, they were essentially Nature Spirits with a tendency towards vampirism. However, their craving for blood was more psychological than a physiological necessity. This paradox gave rise to the Dead Apostles, a derived race with a tangible physical need for blood, contrasting the True Ancestors' condition." Altrouge paused, her narrative interrupted by a heavy sigh.
"Unfortunately, over millennia, many Ancestors succumbed to their bloodlust, descending into madness. Once their sanity eroded, their physical forms degenerated soon after, transforming them into 'Demon Lords' — deranged, voracious entities, a threat to all, including their own kind…" Her voice was edged with bitterness.
Sensing her distress, Alistair nudged her gently. "And how about you? This doesn't sound too promising for your future," he observed, his words laced with genuine concern, prompting a half-hearted smile from Altrouge.
"I'm unlikely to follow that path," she assured him, plastering on a smile to mask her emotions. "I'm what some might call a 'half-breed', a term of endearment from my detractors," she quipped, her tone carrying a mix of amusement and bitterness. "My origin is a bit of an anomaly. I was intended to be a vessel for Crimson Moon's rebirth."
Her demeanor shifted to one of irritation. "However, once it was discovered that I am a hybrid of True Ancestor and Dead Apostle, I was ostracized, labeled a counterfeit True Ancestor, an aberration to be eliminated," she revealed, her wine-red eyes darkening with the remembrance.
"In the end, I had the last laugh," Altrouge said with a hint of darkness in her voice.
"True Ancestors are born with a set power level that never increases. Yet, I inherited the Dead Apostles' ability to grow stronger by consuming blood." She couldn't help but laugh, finding some ironic humor in her situation.
"Furthermore, my thirst for blood is near nonexistent, and my need for blood is lower than any Apostle," she shared with a light-heartedness that contrasted her earlier tone.
"Despite being scorned as a failure by the True Ancestors, I possess undeniable proof of royalty." Her voice took on a mysterious quality before she beamed a smile.
"'The Millennium Castle Brunestud', my Reality Marble, is the very same as that of The Crimson Moon Brunestud," she declared, her pride evident. "This Reality Marble is my claim to the name Brunestud," she stated, her pride unmistakable.
However, Alistair, perhaps a tad too cheekily, decided to dampen her spirits. "Isn't there another bearing the name Brunestud?" he asked with feigned innocence.
Altrouge's demeanor swiftly changed from one of pride to that of a sulking teenager. "Don't bring her up! She's incredibly irritating!" Altrouge protested.
The gentle strokes she had been giving Cath became noticeably rougher, eliciting a pained sound from the creature. "That nosey blonde imbecile constantly chases after Dead Apostle Ancestors, claiming it's her duty. Absolute rubbish; she's just enslaved by her misguided perception of a 'last' True Ancestor's responsibilities," she vented, her annoyance palpable. "And the Kaleidoscope only encourages her," she added with a drawl.
Alistair, recognizing the mentioned title, began to speak, "You mean Zelr—" but Altrouge quickly silenced him, her hand slamming over his mouth.
"Don't utter his name. That man is a literal case of 'Speak of the Devil' and might just pop in if he hears us. Let's not give him that opportunity," she warned. Surprisingly, her voice carried no fear, only a weary resignation.
Liberating himself from Altrouge's silencing grip, Alistair offered her a puzzled expression. "Is he really that powerful? I gathered from my readings he's been 'diminished' since his confrontation with Crimson Moon," he remarked, recalling descriptions that painted the figure as less potent than in his prime.
Altrouge's reaction was a mix of irritation and grudging acknowledgment. "Hypothetically speaking, in a direct confrontation, victory would likely be mine," she began, her confidence evident. Yet, her confidence soon gave way to frustration. "But there's a catch..."
"TRUE MAGIC IS ABSOLUTE BULLSHIT!" Her outburst came as her hands crashed down on the coffee table, effectively demolishing it and causing Alistair and Cath to jump in shock.
Disturbed by the sudden explosion of temper, Cath sought refuge, quickly scampering to the safety of Alistair's head, deeming it a calmer environment.
Witnessing Altrouge's fury, Alistair edged away, a wary look in his eyes. Meanwhile, Altrouge seemed lost in her thoughts, staring down at her clenched fists with a mix of anger and helplessness.
"He just vanishes or flings you into some alternate dimension whenever he's in a tight spot," she lamented, the weight of her words heavy with exasperation. Her gaze then shifted to Alistair, vacant and forlorn.
Recalling a bitter rivalry, she continued with venom, "I once clashed with my 'beloved sister'," the term dripping with scorn. "Arcueid." The name was uttered with disdain, as if it left a sour taste in her mouth.
"Following an incident where she lost around thirty percent of her power, due to her own stupidity," Altrouge noted, a twisted sense of delight creeping into her tone.
"It was so wonderfully one sided. I ripped her body apart so many times…" Her recounting took on a tone of dark ecstasy, a sinister joy evident in her smile. Yet, her satisfaction was short-lived, her mood darkening at the memory's conclusion.
"However, after I had permanently cut her hair short, I was unceremoniously dropped through a portal that sprang beneath me," she finished, her irritation palpable over the abrupt end to her moment of triumph.
"There I was, in a world completely alien to me— with nearly no presence of either Gaia or Alaya. It was the year 2005, and everything around me was unfamiliar," she detailed, leaning forward, a hand covering her face in dismay.
"Carriages that moved without horses, buildings stretching to touch the sky, and the air filled with metal birds—none of it made any sense," she expressed, her descriptions painting a vivid picture of her bewilderment upon encountering the modern world.
Suddenly she turned and looked directly at Alistair. "And do you want to know the punchline?" she asked, her voice dripping with disappointment. Alistair, scratching his cheek thoughtfully, ventured a guess with a wry smile. "Did you run into vampires there too?"
Altrouge's response was a grunt of annoyance. "Those beings, calling them vampires is an insult," she declared, making Alisteir give a confused look. Seeing his confusion prompted her to elaborate.
With a heavy sigh, she continued, "They...they sparkled in the sunlight like some damn disco ball," revealing her disdain with evident embarrassment. "Claiming to be 'vegetarians', they fed on animal blood, making them pitifully weak, even when faced with nearby hostile lycanthropes."
With a dismissive wave of her hand, she added, "I exterminated them all. Such a pathetic mockery deserved nothing less," her tone casual yet underscored by a cruel satisfaction.
"It was a few years before the Kaleidoscope finally opened a portal back for me," she mentioned casually, sinking back into the couch. Alistair, puzzled by the implications, couldn't resist questioning. "But why did he allow you to return?"
The rationale behind Zelretch's decision to send her back, reintroducing such a threat to humanity after he all but exiled her baffled him.
Altrouge's lips curved into a sly smirk at the question. "Kaleidoscope has tried to meddle before, but Gaia doesn't take kindly to her 'children' being spirited away to other universes. And Alaya tends to lend its support, given its inherent disdain for True Magic wielders," she explained with a smug undertone.
"But if he's capable of whisking people away, why didn't he just hurl you into the sun? Wouldn't that have been an effective strategy against Crimson Moon? And what about Cath, would he be safe from such an attack?" Alistair asked with interest, as his curiosity became suddenly piqued by the limitations of Kaleidoscope.
Altrouge responded with a dismissive wave of her hand, suggesting the simplicity of the question underestimated the complexity of their reality.
"Such an act would prove catastrophic, not just for me but for the solar system itself. I could easily activate my marble phantasm, absorbing a significant portion of the sun's mass, leading to severe solar flares and potentially devastating effects on Earth. Inside my marble phantasm, I'd remain unscathed," she detailed with a certain pride in her voice, showcasing her power and strategic depth.
Turning her gaze towards Cath, comfortably perched atop Alistair's head, she continued, "As for Cath, were the Kaleidoscope to attempt something similar, his natural strength would allow him to slice through the fabric of space itself, with a swipe of his paw, distorting the surrounding spatial coordinates. This would inevitably cause any portal aimed at him to collapse, rendering the attack ineffective. And it's believed Crimson Moon employed a similar tactic during their confrontation," she in a lecturing tone.
Leaning back, Altrouge appeared lost in thought for a moment, a contemplative expression on her face. "It's been quite some time since I've had to truly exert myself. Perhaps I could achieve a similar feat," she mused, her voice trailing into silence as she pondered the possibilities.
However, her contemplation was soon overshadowed by a slight grimace of apprehension. "Yet, the thought of facing him directly… It would be rather embarrassing to find myself back in a universe akin to the one I previously encountered," she admitted, the mere thought of returning to what Alistair could only assume was the 'Twilight' universe causing her to visibly shudder. Alistair, understanding the gravity of her concerns, nodded empathetically.
"Understandably, winding up in a random universe isn't on my list of wants, especially not at the hands of someone who's mental faculties are described as 'unhinged' by magi," Alistair remarked, prompting a glance from Altrouge.
"Indeed, but you're a bit too vulnerable in your current state," she observed, a smirk playing at the edges of her mouth.
"But I didn't mention anything about my stren–" His words were briskly interrupted by Altrouge, who seemed uninterested in letting him finish.
"It's time I fulfilled my part of our agreement," she declared, her smile turning mischievous.
In an instant, Alistair was being hauled off by the collar of his shirt, an unexpectedly vigorous Altrouge leading the charge. Cath, sensing the shift in dynamics, quickly leapt from Alistair's head to Altrouge's shoulder.
"I'll use our training session to collect on the blood you owe me," she informed him, leaving Alistair to grapple with a growing sense of foreboding.
"But I was under the impression you'd assist with my magecraft, not subject me to physical training!" Alistair protested, struggling in vain against her firm grasp.
Altrouge's scoff was her immediate response. "Oh please, it'll count as magecraft training if I use magecraft on you while we 'spar'," she retorted, her grin revealing an almost predatory anticipation.
"The inherent ability of dragons to adapt is well-documented; I figure exposing you to the elements you're less attuned with—water and earth—might just enhance your affinity with them," she elaborated, causing Alistair's complexion to drain of color.
"So, your plan is to bombard me with water and earth spells in hopes of boosting my affinity over them?!" Alistair's protest echoed as they neared the manor's training grounds, his alarm mounting with each step.
"Precisely!" Altrouge confirmed cheerily, lifting him to eye level.
"Just make sure you land properly," she advised, then, with little ceremony, tossed Alistair toward the training area, his indignant "You BASTARRRRRRRD" trailing behind him as he flew.
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A/N
Welcome back, my reader Overlords, please add this to your library and give me some comments, stones and Reviews, as it would be much appreciated.
Now that the mandatory begging is done, time to ask the hard hitting questions.
What did you guys think about the info dump? Cuz that's what this was.
Many haven't read anything to do with Tsukihime, so I thought it prudent to illuminate the uneducated masses.
Indeed, I am far too kind, I know.
Anything else I should have added to this chapter? Any interesting nuggets of information I should have included? If so, fill me in, I'll try my best.
Btw, I have made a Discord server for the fic, come on and chat with me! https://discord.gg/wWRhZrbx
Now, have a nice day, while I work on the next few chapters! Toodles!
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