Castle Dracula moved through the night sky like a dark cancer against the stars, its ancient stone architecture shifting and adapting as it traveled.
Towers retracted and extended, walls thickened and thinned, the entire structure behaving more like a living organism than a building.
Black clouds formed in its wake, trailing behind like a funeral shroud.
At the highest tower, Dracula stood motionless, his pale hands resting on the stone parapet. Wind whipped his long black hair, but his face remained impassive as he observed the landscape below.
The Ice Wall - that massive barrier separating the known world from the darker continents beyond - glowed faintly blue in the distance.
"Master." Hector's voice came from behind him, respectful but tinged with concern.
Dracula didn't turn. "We're crossing tonight."
"The territories beyond the Ice Wall are dangerous even for beings of our nature," Hector said, moving to stand beside his master. His silver-white hair caught the moonlight, creating a stark contrast to Dracula's darkness. "No vampire has ventured there in centuries."
"I am not merely a vampire." Dracula's voice was deep, resonant with centuries of command. "As you well know."
Silence fell between them as the castle continued its relentless journey forward.
The Ice Wall grew larger in their vision, a towering barrier of ancient ice that stretched beyond sight in both directions.
The Wall marked the boundary of what humans were permitted to know.
Beyond lay continents of darkness, places where reality itself had been scarred by events too terrible for conventional understanding.
"Isaac agrees with the journey?" Hector asked finally.
"Isaac follows without question," Dracula replied. "As should you."
The castle approached the Ice Wall, its structure contracting slightly as if bracing for impact.
Instead of collision, the dark stone simply passed through the glowing ice, causing ripples of blue energy to spread outward like disturbed water.
As they emerged on the other side, the stars above changed configuration. The constellations here were unfamiliar, different versions of the patterns known to mankind. The air itself felt heavier, laden with ancient sorrows.
"There." Dracula pointed toward the horizon where a massive crater was now visible, stretching miles across the blasted landscape. "The remains of Sodom and Gomorrah."
Hector's breath caught audibly. "Master, that place-"
"Is exactly where we need to be," Dracula finished, turning from the parapet at last. His eyes glowed red in the darkness. "Prepare the council chamber. We have much to discuss before we arrive."
--------------------------
The council chamber occupied the heart of Castle Dracula, a vast circular room with a domed ceiling that somehow reflected the night sky above.
A massive table of black wood dominated the center, its surface polished to mirror brightness.
Dracula sat at the head, fingers steepled before him. To his right sat Isaac, dark-skinned and intense.
To his left was Hector, his features set in a troubled expression.
"You question my decision," Dracula stated, looking directly at Hector.
Hector met his gaze steadily. "I question the wisdom of entering a place of divine wrath, Master. Even for one such as yourself."
"Divine wrath," Dracula repeated, a hint of amusement coloring his tone. "Yes, I suppose that's it is."
"The crater was created by the archangel Raphael," Hector continued. "The scars of his power remain. No supernatural creature can endure such a place without being destroyed."
Isaac, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke. "You forget what our Master truly is, Hector." His voice was calm, measured. "He is not merely a vampire lord."
"I forget nothing," Hector replied, an edge entering his voice. "But even God's Chosen One must recognize limits."
Dracula rose suddenly, his movement so swift that the candles flickered. He extended his hand toward a small reliquary on a nearby pedestal - a fragment of stone that glowed with faint white light.
"Approach it," he commanded.
Isaac and Hector exchanged glances before rising. As they neared the reliquary, their steps became labored. Isaac's scars began to glow red, while Hector's face contorted in pain.
"This stone," Dracula explained, "was touched by divine fire during the destruction of Sodom. A reminder of God's judgment upon sin."
He reached out and grasped the stone directly. Where it should have burned him, should have rejected his vampiric nature, nothing happened. He held it casually, turning it in his fingers.
"I was - and remain - God's Chosen One," Dracula said softly. "His champion. Despite what I have become, He has never rescinded His protection. An oversight, perhaps." A bitter smile crossed his face. "Or perhaps part of some greater design I no longer care to understand."
He replaced the stone and returned to his seat. "The divine wrath that permeates the crater will not harm me. You two will remain protected as long as you stay close to me and the castle."
Hector returned to his seat, his expression thoughtful. "And what do we seek in this cursed place, Master? What could possibly be worth such risk?"
"A meeting," Dracula replied. "With one who knew the cities before their fall."
Isaac's eyes narrowed. "You mean to summon the Regent of Hell."
Dracula inclined his head slightly. "Azazel. Yes."
Silence fell over the chamber. Even Isaac appeared surprised by this revelation.
"Master," Hector finally said, his voice carefully controlled, "dealing with Hell's Regent is-"
"Necessary," Dracula cut him off. "Azazel cannot normally enter the crater. The divine wrath bars demons from places they once corrupted, unless specifically summoned. And he will not refuse such a summons - the nostalgia alone will compel him to answer."
"And what do you hope to gain from this meeting?" Isaac asked.
Dracula's fingers traced patterns on the polished table. "Azazel possesses something I need. Something that will help me recover my full strength."
The castle shuddered slightly, the motion felt throughout the structure.
"We have arrived," Dracula announced, rising once more. "Prepare the ritual components. We begin at midnight."
----------------------
The crater of Sodom stretched before them like an open wound in the earth.
The ground was permanently scorched, with strange crystallized formations where sand had been fused to glass by divine fire.
The air itself felt charged with judgment, making breathing difficult for any living thing.
Dracula walked confidently down the gangplank extended from his castle, his boots crunching on the glassy surface.
Behind him, Isaac and Hector followed at a careful distance, their faces strained from feeling the divine energy that permeated the place.
"Magnificent, isn't it?" Dracula paused, surveying the devastation. "The power required to create such destruction... and this was merely the work of one feather."
"One feather?" Hector repeated, confusion evident in his voice.
Dracula nodded. "Raphael raised the entire city to the sky and flipped it upside down with just the tip of one of his millions of feathers. Then he let it fall. This crater is the result."
He continued walking toward the center of the vast depression.
The divine energy grew stronger with each step, causing Isaac and Hector to move more slowly, their bodies fighting the holy power that sought to purify them from existence.
Dracula, however, showed no discomfort. If anything, he seemed to slightly draw energy from the place, his posture becoming more erect, his movements more fluid.
"Here," he said eventually, stopping at what appeared to be the exact center of the crater. "This is where the ritual must be performed."
Isaac set down the ornate box he had been carrying and opened it to reveal ritual components: black candles, a silver bowl, various herbs and powders, and a ceremonial dagger with a bone handle.
Midnight approached. The ritual circle was complete, black candles burning with flames that somehow appeared darker than the surrounding night.
Dracula stood at the center, the ceremonial dagger held loosely in his right hand.
"Begin," he commanded.
Isaac and Hector started a low chant in an ancient language, their voices creating a dissonant harmony that seemed to thicken the air.
Dracula raised the dagger and made a precise cut across his left palm, allowing the blood to drip into the silver bowl.
"Azazel, Iblis, Prince of Hell, Regent of the Pit, I summon thee," Dracula intoned, his voice carrying power that made the ground beneath them vibrate slightly. "By blood freely given, by the covenant of old, by the scars of this place that once was yours, come forth."
The divine energy of the crater seemed to react to the ritual, becoming more agitated. Small ripples appeared in the air, like heat distortions but more pronounced.
"Iblis, who once walked these streets as master, who shaped these souls to your design, who watched as heaven's wrath descended, I call you to the site of your former glory."
The candle flames suddenly stood perfectly still, no longer flickering despite the breeze. A silence fell over the crater, absolute and unnatural.
Then, without dramatic effect or warning, a man stood before them.
He appeared ordinary at first glance - middle-aged, dressed in an expensive suit, with the bearing of a successful executive.
Only his eyes betrayed his true nature: yellow irises that glowed faintly in the darkness, holding knowledge and malice beyond human comprehension.
"Dracula," Azazel greeted him casually, as if they'd bumped into each other at a social function. "It's been what - seven centuries? You're looking well... considering."
His gaze swept over the ritual circle with mild interest before taking in the broader landscape of the crater. Something like genuine emotion flickered across his face.
He remained silent for a long moment, nostalgic, before he finally spoke.
"You know," he said, kneeling to run his fingers through the crystallized sand, "most think this was just another case of divine punishment for garden-variety sin. The usual fire and brimstone story they tell children. It wasn't only just homosexuality that brought the fate it got - though that was a big part of it, I suppose..."
He looked up, yellow eyes gleaming. "Everyone simply has no idea what we built here."
Dracula remained silent, allowing Azazel his moment.
"This was my masterpiece," Azazel continued, rising to his feet. "Two entire cities where every single inhabitant - every man, woman, and child - had been perfectly corrupted. Not just the usual vices, mind you. We're talking about systematic, ritualized depravity that would make even your vampiric courts blush."
He began walking slowly around the ritual circle, gesturing to different areas of the crater as he spoke.
"It took generations. I started with the leadership, naturally. Corrupted the judges first, then the priests. By the third generation, we had children being raised to believe that cruelty was virtue and compassion was weakness."
Azazel pointed to a particular area of the crater. "Over there was where they conducted the public tortures - entertainment, they called it. And there, the temple where they performed rituals that would have made Baal himself uncomfortable."
His expression darkened. "Then Raphael showed up. He didn't just destroy these cities, he made a statement. One feather - just one - and he lifted both cities miles into the sky before turning them upside down and letting them fall"
Genuine anger flashed in his yellow eyes. "Do you know what it's like to watch centuries of work undone in seconds? To see your masterpiece shattered because some self-righteous bird decided to flex his wings?"
He after a moment composed himself and turned back to Dracula. He Remained silent for a moment, as his head tilted slightly. "Speaking of centuries of work undone, why have you called me here? You're not one for sentiment, Dracula. You want something from me."
"I require a small amount of your blood," Dracula stated without preamble, his voice betraying no emotion. "In exchange, I offer you my left arm."
Azazel raised an eyebrow. "Your arm? Not permanently, I assume, given your regenerative capabilities."
"Indeed. But as you must know, my flesh and blood are immune to angelic power - with the exception of archangels, of course. It would make an excellent weapon for whatever... purposes you might have."
Azazel smiled, showing far too many teeth for his human vessel. "Now, that's interesting." He began to circle Dracula slowly. "But I'm more curious about why the great Dracula - God's fallen champion - needs the blood of Hell's regent? Hmm?"
His yellow eyes gleamed with malicious amusement. "What exactly are you planning to do with my blood, Gabriel?"
Dracula did not let the taunt of calling him by the name he cast aside affect him.
"I am weakened, as you well know." Dracula's voice remained steady, matter-of-fact. "My body, as God's Chosen One, still requires divine energy to heal completely. Without prayer, I cannot access Heaven's power."
"Well then, by all means-" Azazel gestured dramatically to the heavens, "-pray! Get on your knees right here. I'm sure He's still listening." He laughed, the sound echoing across the crater. "What the hell did you summon me for if that's all you need?"
Dracula's composure cracked slightly, his lips pulling back to reveal fangs. "I need not remind you that despite your... demonic princehood, you're still a fallen angel."
His eyes narrowed. "And not just any fallen angel. You're an Ifrit of the Jinn, a fallen angel, AND a demon prince. The Original Tribrid. The first of your kind."
He straightened, regaining his perfect composure. "A being of incalculable power. Your blood contains traces of all three natures - and that combination will provide enough power to heal me and strengthen me for what I must do."
Azazel stared at Dracula for a long moment before bursting into genuine laughter. "Well, when you put it like that - how could I refuse such flattery?"
He approached Dracula, extending his left hand. "We have a deal."
Dracula reached out with his left hand to shake-
In a blur too fast for even his eyes to track, Azazel ripped Dracula's entire arm off at the shoulder.
Dracula staggered but didn't fall, his face betraying only the slightest twitch of pain. Blood began to pour from the wound.
Isaac and Hector lunged forward instinctively, but Dracula raised his remaining hand. "Stay back," he commanded, voice perfectly steady despite the massive agony.
Azazel examined the severed arm with interest, telekinetically suspending the blood that threatened to drip onto the ground. "Nice musculature. Very firm. You clearly work out."
With his free hand, he materialized an empty crystal vial from nowhere. A quick gesture, and the vial filled with his own blood - darker than human blood, with strange golden motes floating within it.
He tossed the vial casually toward Dracula, who caught it one-handed.
"Well, pleasure doing business with you." Azazel turned away, the severed arm tucked under his own like a newspaper. He waved backward without looking. "Deal's done. Places to go, souls to corrupt - you know how it is."
As he walked away, he called over his shoulder, "Do let me know how that works out for you. I'm genuinely curious if it'll kill you or cure you!"
His laughter echoed as he simply took a couple steps and vanished, leaving Dracula standing one-armed in the crater of divine wrath.
----------------------------
-Mikaelson Mansion
In the spacious bedroom, Lucien slept soundly in the center of the king-sized bed, his breathing deep and even.
The covers had been pulled to his chest, his brown hair splayed across the white pillow.
Katherine stood by the window, fully dressed in an elegant outfit - not yet having prepared for sleep.
Her silhouette was outlined in silver moonlight as she gazed out at the grounds, one hand resting against the glass.
Suddenly, the door opened without a knock, its hinges moving with deliberate slowness.
Katherine tensed instantly, her body coiling like a spring. She didn't turn, but her reflection in the window glass showed eyes that had darkened with wariness.
Klaus stepped into the room, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
He didn't acknowledge Katherine at all, moving directly to the bed where Lucien slept.
For a long moment, he simply stood there, studying the boy's face with an expression Katherine couldn't quite read - something between calculation and genuine concern.
Then, with surprising gentleness, Klaus lowered himself to sit at the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped slightly under his weight, but Lucien didn't stir.
Klaus reached out, hesitating for just a moment before running his fingers through Lucien's hair in a gesture that seemed almost... paternal.
His touch was light enough not to wake the boy, yet deliberate, as if confirming something to himself.
Katherine remained frozen by the window, unwilling to break whatever strange spell had fallen over the room. She had never seen Klaus touch anyone with such care - not in all her time of knowing him.
"He sleeps deeply," Klaus observed in a whisper, not looking away from Lucien's face.
Katherine moved a few steps closer, keeping her voice equally low. "He exhausted himself today. Breaking Rebekah's curse probably took more from him than he let on."
Klaus shook his head slightly, still running his fingers through Lucien's hair. "No. The boy doesn't lie. He abhors lies." His voice carried absolute certainty. "Breaking Rebekah's curse was trivial for him. He said as much."
Katherine frowned. "Then why is he-"
Klaus fell silent, his expression suggesting he knew precisely why Lucien was so exhausted but had currently no intention of sharing.
The silence stretched between them, heavy. Katherine studied Klaus's face, weighing the risk of pressing further against her growing concern for Lucien.
"Besides the obvious," she finally whispered, her voice barely audible, "the damn curse mark on his palm... what is it?" The question hung in the air between them.
Klaus's lips curved into a small, knowing smile. A soft chuckle escaped him, barely audible in the quiet room.
"Truly, he hides it well," Klaus murmured, more to himself than to Katherine.
Katherine's eyes narrowed. "What is?" She moved closer, her voice slightly urgent but still whispered, a bit of irritation in it at being kept in the dark.
At another silence, she grit her teeth and continued. "Clearly it's not hidden well enough, since you know about it."
Klaus's gaze lifted to meet hers, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Oh, he hides it well enough. The only reason I know..." he paused, as if considering whether to continue, "...is because I read his memories when he first arrived."
Katherine stilled, "When you knew his preferences. The food, the books..." She glanced down at Lucien's sleeping form. "So, he was right."
She had her own suspicions, but wasn't completely sure, unlike Lucien.
"He usually is," Klaus acknowledged with surprising candor. "An unfortunate trait he shares with his father."
"What did you see?" Katherine asked, unable to contain her curiosity. "In his memories?"
Klaus's expression shifted, becoming unreadable. "Many things. Some I understand, some I don't." His fingers resumed their gentle movement through Lucien's hair. "But what matters is what I felt."
"And what was that?"
Klaus turned silent once more for a long moment.
'What is it with all these silences, damn it. Talk or don't, you bastard,' Katherine thought to herself, immensily irritated.
"I wonder," Klaus said softly, almost to himself, "when he will break down."
Katherine stiffened, her full attention now locked on Klaus. "What do you mean by that?"
Klaus remained silent, his fingers still absently stroking Lucien's hair. The quiet stretched between them until Katherine thought he might not answer at all.
Finally, he looked up at her, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. "Have you ever considered, Katerina, 'The Price of Omniscience'?"
When she didn't respond, he continued, his voice taking on the cadence of a storyteller. "It truly baffles me how ignorant everyone has been when it comes to the boy. You and his family know of his empathetic abilities, do you not?"
Katherine gave a slow, cautious nod, despite the question being rhetorical.
"Then consider this." Klaus leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping even lower. "When one can see into the heart of humans - truly see them - and be constantly aware of what they feel towards certain things, such as... situations where they would abandon them... what do you imagine that person would feel?"
"Loneliness," Katherine answered, the word barely audible.
"Indeed." Klaus's lips curved into a knowing smile. "But that's merely the beginning. Such a person would also come to believe that the only one they can truly count on, the only one who will never abandon them, is themselves."
He rose from the bed, moving with deliberate slowness to the window where Katherine had stood earlier. "They know, you see. They know precisely the situations where their loved ones will choose others over them. And so they begin... planning."
Klaus traced a finger along the windowpane, "They think strategically, constantly calculating ways to prevent those scenarios from ever materializing. So that the choice never becomes necessary, and their loved ones don't abandon them for another."
He turned back to face her, moonlight casting half his face in shadow. "This creates a mentality that is almost... godlike." He threw Katherine a meaningful look. "The constant vigilance, the manipulation of circumstances, the orchestration of events to ensure their place in others' hearts."
Katherine remained perfectly still, absorbing his words.
"Such a person will never truly know peace," Klaus continued, his voice almost hypnotic now. "They are always planning ten steps ahead, always ensuring they cannot be abandoned. The only time they feel secure is when they become..." he paused, selecting his words with precision, "the primary loved one. The one valued above all others."
His eyes locked with Katherine's. "For what else would one call their god, if not the center of their existence? The being they place above all others?"
A small, sardonic smile played at his lips. "Though I suppose the boy does dislike being worshipped. Being the centre of someone's life doesn't necessarily make one their god if absolute obedience isn't put together with it... but my point stands."
Klaus returned to the bedside, looking down at Lucien with something almost like compassion. "Even then, this peace is incomplete. The person with this 'omniscience' craves further knowledge of the human heart. They can see its present state laid bare before them, but what of its future?"
He gestured elegantly with one hand. "How will they ensure they won't be abandoned tomorrow? That the person who values them above all today won't find someone else to cherish more tomorrow?"
Klaus's voice softened further. "They become obsessive, constantly checking the emotional state of those they've claimed as theirs. Why else do you think the boy has begun reciprocating your... affections?"
He mimicked the gestures he'd observed: "The hugging. The kisses on your cheek. The hand-holding." Each description was delivered with subtle emphasis. "It is because the boy has, within his heart, accepted you, Katerina. He has become possessive of you. Obsessed with keeping you."
Klaus's expression became almost pitying. "And that is the true burden of seeing too clearly into others' hearts. You begin to see yourself as their keeper... their protector... their god. And gods, as we both know, are terribly jealous creatures."
As Klaus finished speaking, Lucien stirred slightly in his sleep, his brow furrowing as if troubled by dreams.
A small sound escaped his lips - not quite a word, but enough to indicate his sleep was lightening.
Klaus straightened immediately, his gaze shifting from the boy to the door. "It seems our conversation is disturbing his rest," he whispered, moving with silent grace toward the exit.
Katherine remained frozen for a moment, processing everything Klaus had said. As his hand reached for the doorknob, she found her voice.
"Why are you telling me this?" she asked.
Klaus paused, his back to her. For a long moment, he was perfectly still, as if considering how much to reveal.
When he turned, his expression had hardened, all traces of the earlier tenderness gone. "Consider it a warning, Katerina." His eyes locked with hers, cold and ancient. "You have entered the heart of a boy-god. You will now need to live with the consequences of that."
His gaze drifted briefly to Lucien's sleeping form before returning to her. "For us gods, as I said, are jealous creatures." A humorless smile played across his lips. "And you know how I deal with my siblings caring for someone more than they care about this family."
Katherine felt a chill run down her spine as memories flooded her mind - how many lovers of his siblings Klaus had murdered over the centuries, how many times he had daggered his siblings when they grew too attached to others.
All to prevent the breaking of "always and forever," all to ensure he would never be abandoned.
"You think he'll become like you," Katherine whispered, the realization dawning on her face.
Klaus's smile widened slightly, though it never reached his eyes. "No, Katerina. I think he already is."
With that, he slipped through the door and was gone, leaving Katherine alone with the sleeping boy and the weight of Klaus's warning pressing down on her like a physical force.
She moved to the bedside, studying Lucien's face in the moonlight. He looked so young, so innocent in sleep - nothing like the jealous god Klaus had described. And yet...
Katherine gently brushed a lock of hair from Lucien's forehead with her left hand, her touch feather-light. As if sensing her presence even in sleep, he turned slightly toward her hand, a small smile forming on his lips.
"What are you dreaming of, my little god?" she whispered, settling onto the edge of the bed where Klaus had sat moments before.
As if in answer, Lucien's hand reached toward her right hand and grabbed it gently.
His hold a bit tight.
-------------------------
(Author note: Hello everyone! I hope you all enjoyed the chapter.
Do tell me how you found it.
I hope you liked the Azazel and Dracula scenes - I like writing them.
Also... What do you think? Is Klaus right about Lucien being like him, literally?
I'm interested in your thoughts.
Well, I hope to see you all later,
Bye!)