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Isaac always prided himself on expecting the unexpected, on being prepared to adapt to anything, but that night Dracula came to him and told him the news was something nobody could be prepared for.
“She’s… pregnant…?” Isaac blinked, nearly dropping the book he was reading, “How?”
“I’ve been asking myself the same thing.” Dracula sighed. There was a distant look in his eyes, his usually tall figure slumped over in the chair, “But here we are. I… I shouldn’t have been so irresponsible, Isaac, humans are frail. This… thing, this child, it is capable of taking her life and with it it’s own.”
“Have you considered terminating it?” Isaac suggests bluntly.
“We talk about it for many days, but she has chosen to keep this child.” he shuts his eyes, “She wants to use herself as a test subject, observing her condition and trying to treat herself like she would any patient. Isaac… I love her.” he looks to him, eyes wet with bloody tears, “If I were to lose her, I think it would break me.”
Isaac tensed. The thought of losing his master, his teacher, his only friend to such a common human tragedy was heartbreaking. The fact it was out of his control was frustrating.
“I would not let your fears cloud her judgment, Dracula.” Isaac says, laying a hand on his shoulder, “You’ve told me you trust this woman with your knowledge, why would you not trust her judgement on her body?”
Dracula turns to him, offense clear as day on his face, “I never said that.”
“Am I wrong?” Isaac presses, “Humans are fallible, and they can suffer deadly consequences for that. They greatly overestimate themselves, as I’m sure your wife did when barging into your castle, but it worked out for her, did it not? There’s the possibility her judgment means things will be in her favor.”
Dracula’s brows furrow in thought, considering his words carefully, “I understand what you’re saying.” he gives a tired smile, “You always know what to say.”
Isaac accepts the compliment with a nod, “I am sure when it comes to your loved ones, fate will be wise and lean in your favor.”
As much as he hates lying to his friend, weighing him down with the reality is something he simply cannot burden.
Occasionally, humanity did show the best of itself. It showed in fellow street children, who would split their stolen food among the less fortunate ones, it showed in times of disaster where men and women ran into danger if just only to be sure fellow humans are not still trapped, and it certainly showed in humans like Lisa.
With pale face, she greeted Isaac just as Dracula had years ago, as a human.
“Vlad speaks very highly of you.” she says, seated on a loveseat with a blanket draped over her lap.
She offers her hand in greetings, and Isaac takes it, “Likewise.” he replies. He kneels down to spare her the trouble of standing, though it looks even if she wanted to she couldn’t.
“I hope all is well.” Isaac says, rather than ‘I hope you’re feeling okay’ because there is no way in Hell this woman is feeling okay after birthing a half-vampire.
“Yes, of course. It went rather smoothly, all things considered.” she sighs, like the simple act of talking is taking too much effort, “It’s a boy if you didn’t hear already.”
“Congratulations.” he smiles, “I’m sure the two of you must be overjoyed.”
“Yes, well, as much as I’d love to jump for joy my body says otherwise.” she chuckles, “Speaking of which, Vlad told me you work with the dead.”
“In a way.” Isaac nods, not sure how much of his work Dracula shared with her.
“Well, after you’re done talking to him, I’d love to talk about what you’ve observed in your line of work.” she says, “I’m curious about how one can transform flesh after it has become dead. I think it could be applied to recovering dead or dying tissue.”
Isaac smiles, “I’d be happy to share my knowledge with you.” he says, “But first I’d like to see how Dracula is handling fatherhood.”
“Surprisingly well.” Lisa chuckles, “He’s just down the hall, to the left. Tell him to go put on some tea for me, and for you if you’d like any.”
Stepping into the room is like stepping into another world, one where the air is calm and merry. The few things Isaac takes note of is an assortment of toys and books, and a painted sky on the ceiling.
A tall dark figure stands over the crib at the far end, talking in whispers and coos.
“Who would have thought the Lord of all Darkness would make such a doting father?” Isaac smirks, crossing his arms.
Dracula looks over his shoulder, smiling softly (a word Isaac never thought he would have never associated with his master), “There is nothing I’m not naturally talented at.”
“Of course not.” he agrees, coming closer, “How have you been?”
“Tired, elated, overwhelmed, and whatever else comes with being a new parent.” he hums, “But I wouldn’t trade it for the world.” he reaches into the crib, lifting the small bundle of joy into his arms for Isaac to see.
The infant had a head full of blonde curls, peeking out from the swaddle he was wrapped in. He blinked, looking up between his father and the visitor with bright, golden eyes which seemed to glow with a warm light of their own. He looked like he was carved from ivory, like living art.
“He certainly takes after his mother.” Isaac says, noting two tiny fangs as the child yawns, “But he seems to have also inherited quite a bit of his father’s side as well.”
“He’s a wonderful little thing, isn’t he?” Dracula breathed, gently booping the baby’s nose to which it responds with a sneeze, “Would you like to hold him?”
Isaac tries not to tense, “No thank you.” he shakes his head, “But I appreciate the offer.”
And he truly does, but the thought of holding something so tiny and fragile looking gives him more than a bit of anxiety.
”Of course.” Dracula nods understandingly, “Did you get to see Lisa?”
“Yes, and she asked me to inform you that she wants tea.”
“Ah.” he sighs, “That means she wants a scientific discussion with you. Prepare to be occupied for the next few hours, my friend.”
Isaac flinched as he heard a giggle behind him, having been so enthralled in his book that the noise startled him. He turned only to see a flash of gold hair as the person rushed past the door.
He waited a few minutes to see if the boy’s parents were coming after him, but after a moment it became clear that the child had snuck off again.
As much trouble as it was for him to go and retrieve Adrian, Isaac didn’t want the trouble of having the child get hurt while he knew it was unsupervised, and so he went after him.
A few times, he had to pause to try and figure out which direction the echoes of giggles came from. No matter how long it took him, Adrian seemed to always be the same distance away, as if he had been waiting for Isaac to resume following him. This was truly nothing but a game to him, but it was one that led to the soldier’s quarters, a place where no child, supernatural or not, should be playing. Thinking fast, Isaac took a shortcut, effectively cutting off Adrian’s path.
Adrian, who was too busy looking behind himself, ran right into his leg and fell onto his backside.
“Going somewhere?” Isaac smirked, raising a brow. Adrian simply smiled and giggled, standing and reaching up. Isaac obliged, lifting him into his arms, “Come, you probably have your mother and father worried sick.”
Adrian was only one year old, but was already the size of a three year old and just as energetic. He had also demonstrated the ability to speak fairly well, although he seemed to prefer not to.
Just as they were nearly back in the main halls, a group of vampire soldiers turned the corner, stopping and glaring with seething hatred and disgust. Isaac didn’t care, they wouldn’t dare put a finger on him, not if they didn’t want to fall to his blade, or worse, suffer punishment at Dracula’s hands, and so he walked by them without a word as little Adrian smiled and waved.
It was then Isaac noticed they weren’t looking at him this time, rather, they were looking at what was in his arms.
“Isaac, look!” Adrian beamed, holding up one of his art pieces, one of a portrait done of a certain forgemaster, “I made this for you!”
“Did you now?” Isaac smiles, taking the drawing and looking it over, “My, you’re very talented.”
Adrian’s eyes light up at the praise, an air of joy around him as Isaac placed his work beside many others. Where weapons and tools of torture once hung around his study, there were now drawings ranging from crude landscapes to badly proportioned people.
Isaac sat back down, resuming his work on translating an ancient scroll. Adrian remained, rocking on his feet with a pensive expression, “You know what you are, Isaac?” he asked, leaning on the back of the chair.
“What am I?” Isaac inquired as he took notes.
“You’re my uncle!”
Isaac blinked, his hand stilling, “... what?” he looked back at Adrian.
“You’re my father’s brother.” Adrian explained as if stating the obvious, “That makes you my uncle!”
Isaac snorts. The noise is such a surprise to even himself that he covers his mouth with his hand, but it fails to hide the soft chuckles which soon turns into outright guffawing.
Adrian stares at him as if he grew a second head and three tails, “What? What did I say?”
“N-Nothing.” Isaac says as he tries to catch his breath, “I just found it funny you think your father and I are brothers.”
“You’re not?” Adrian frowns a little, as if disappointed by the news, “Are you sure? Cause you seem like you are.”
“Yes, I’m sure.” Isaac ruffles his hair, charmed by the child’s simple innocence.
Adrian simply huffed, crossing his arms, “Well, we’ll just pretend your my uncle then.”
Isaac smiles and shrugs, “If you insist.”
Between Dracula attending political affairs and Lisa’s work among the humans, there were times where both parents had to leave their son for a short time.
And very few people had the privilege of having the Prince of Darkness dropped off at their home for such times.
Isaac didn’t mind sharing his home with Adrian, who now had a second name that Isaac didn’t really care for. It lead to interesting moments, such as one that occured out of the blue while he was cooking dinner for the two of them.
“So, what do you think about humans, Uncle?”
“Pardon?” Isaac looked at him, taken aback.
“Well, Father says he tolerates them, and Mother says that when we improve their lives, they’ll understand, so I was wondering… What do you think?”
“Well, there are humans like your mother, and Hector, ones who are kind and good, and want only the best for everyone around them, but…”
“But?” Adrian repeats.
“Humans… we’re very…” he struggles for the right words, “We are comfortable living with lies, and those who aren’t are smothered by the rest, like a fire put out by dirt.”
“But don’t they want to better themselves? Their lives? Society itself?” he counters.
“Humans are contradictory creatures. We say we want what’s best when we really mean we want to be right, we say we are about truth when we silence those who take action to find it, and we show love by hurting others…” he pauses, feeling a brief but heavy weight on his chest, “Do you understand?”
“I guess.” Adrian shrugs.
“... Did you ask anyone else this?” Isaac prods, curious.
“I tried asking the Council.” Adrian said, “But they don’t take me seriously outside of combat training. I’m like a child to them.”
“You are a child.” Isaac reminds him,
“Physically and intellectually I’m not!” Adrian argues, “I’m sixteen by your standards, Mother says!”
“Sixteen is still a child.” Isaac chides, practically able to hear Adrian rolling his eyes. Yet mere moments later, the two both burst into laughter.
“I was thinking about what you said last night, about humans.” Adrian said, watching as Isaac sorted through a display of apples, “And I think I have it figured out.”
“Oh?” Isaac hums, a bit distracted by trying to find apples without bruises.
“I was thinking, maybe humans, or rather, humanity itself, is like… like wine, it gets better with age.” he explains as Isaac hands the grocer some coins, “And perhaps we’ll reach our full potential after some time.”
“How do you figure that?” Isaac asks as he begins walking down the street, Adrian following close behind.
“Well, Father says humans are a relatively new species in the span of time.” he continues, “In fact, one of my books said that if the history of our planet was condensed to twenty-four hours, humans would have only appeared in the last tenth of a second, so wouldn’t it make sense that we’d need more time to become better?”
“Perhaps.” Isaac agrees, “But things don’t always get better with time. Remember, there are people in power whose interests outweigh what is best, and people will follow without a second thought.”
“Right now, yes, but eventually people are going to get sick and tired of the way things are and fight to improve them, and the ones who don’t will die out.” Adrian says, “You, Hector, Mother, one day you may not be so out of place with your ideas.”
Isaac opens his mouth to respond, but before he can Adrian gasps and shouts, “Wow! Uncle, look at that!” and runs off to a booth with a variety of caged exotic birds of every color and size, pulling a small sketchbook from his pocket as he does so. Isaac sighs, slightly annoyed by the sudden end to the conversation.
However, something had caught his eye as well.
A child, probably six or seven, sat slumped against the entrance of an alley, dressed in rags and with a small open pouch with two coins sat in front of her. She had been staring at Isaac, who gave a polite smile in return. She quickly gazed down at her near-empty coin pouch just to avoid his eyes, pulling her loose shit around her skinny frame… only to watch as an apple and a fair amount of coins was gently placed into it.
She looked back up at him, eyes wide with surprise, before snatching the apple up and holding it to her chest as if worried he’d take it back. Isaac gave a kind smile and nodded, to which the girl finally returned as she took a bite. He stood back up and went to fetch Adrian, without so much as a word between him or the child, and yet short exchange they had had more understanding in it than words could ever have.
Perhaps Adrian was right. Perhaps one day, the pure love possessed by only a few would grow, and the world would be a better place. He could only hope so.
“Alucard has betrayed me.”
Those words brought back an awful pain, one that he had thought would never infest his life again. The one of love being met with betrayal.
That familiar and one time distant pain had returned with a vengeance, rooting itself deeper and burning hotter than it ever had before.
He tried punishing himself the first night in the castle, when the heartbreak had caused all logic to be thrown out the window. When he returned to his senses, the cold water of the showers in his bathroom stinging at the open wounds, it suddenly occurred to him that there was no reason to punish himself. All he had done was open his heart to Adrian. Adrian was the one who had stabbed his father in the back.
He tried to distract himself with his work afterwards, the large supply of corpses from Targoviste giving him more than enough to do. However, it was hard to do with tears clouding his eyes and a tight knot in his stomach.
So then he took a different approach. Adrian had never betrayed him. Adrian was a sweet child who would never so much as raise a hand at a fly, who had a constant thirst for knowledge and could devour books like they were nothing, whose laugh could lift any mood and whose smile could shine brighter than the brightest of stars.
Alucard , on the other hand, was a spoiled and naive moron, who chose the foolish words of his dying mother, who had likely been disoriented from smoke inhalation (how else could such a smart person say something so ludicrous as her final remark?), over his remaining parent, who had done nothing but raised and loved him, and who seeked to purge the world from the very corruption that had ruined their lives. Instead, in their time of grief, he sided with them and proclaimed that he would kill his father before he even had the chance to begin the war. Isaac could kill Alucard with no hesitation, like he had done to scum dozens of times before.
But when he happened to look down the stairwell and saw those bright golden eyes staring up at him, he knew it was Adrian.