Dromos 28, Imperial Year 1643
Thornreach, Northern Boreas – Vlad's Workshop
The workshop was warm, despite the snow piled against the walls. Alchemical bulbs cast a steady yellow light over the workbenches, where tools and weapons lay in neat rows. In the center of the room, on a wooden stand, a suit of armor waited.
Vladislav Eisenberg – Alucard, the Raven – stood before it, adjusting a gauntlet.
The armor was not the heavy plate of a knight. It was sleek, almost organic, forged from dark steel and hardened leather. The helmet was the most striking piece – a full faceplate shaped like a masked visage, with a single glowing lens over the left eye and a vented grille over the mouth. A white cape, trimmed in silver, hung from the shoulders. The chest plate bore no crest, only smooth curves designed to deflect blades.
His father, Marius, stood in the doorway, stamping snow from his boots. He was older now – his hair white, his face lined – but his eyes were still sharp.
"I came to check on you," Marius said. "Your mother worries. She heard about the throne room incident."
"I am fine."
"Fine." Marius walked around the armor, running a gnarled hand over the helmet. "This is new. What is it for?"
"A new persona."
"The Raven was not enough?"
"The Raven is known now. Feared. Hunted." Vlad removed the gauntlet and set it on the workbench. "I need another face. Another name. One that can move among mercenaries and nobles without drawing the crown's attention."
Marius raised an eyebrow. "And this face has a name?"
Vlad turned to the helmet. His fingers traced the edge of the glowing lens.
"Zero."
Marius laughed – a short, rough sound. "Zero. Another dramatic name. You are worse than a theater troupe."
"Theatricality has its uses."
"It also gets you noticed." Marius leaned against the workbench. "Your stunts, Vladislav. The speeches. The red plume. The name Alucard. You are building a legend, not a reputation. Legends attract attention. Attention attracts hunters."
"I know."
"And yet you persist."
Vlad was quiet for a moment. Then he turned to face his father.
"I cannot do this alone anymore."
Marius's eyes widened. "That is not something I expected to hear from you."
"I have been thinking. The Raven kills monsters, but monsters keep appearing. There are too many corrupt nobles, too many slavers, too many murderers. One man cannot hunt them all." Vlad walked to the window, looking out at the snow. "I need help. Not servants. Not disciples. Peers. People who are apolitical, who believe in evidence, who verify facts before they act. People who are skilled enough that I do not have to give them my secrets."
"Your secrets?"
"The weapons. The knowledge from my past life. I will not share those. They are too dangerous." Vlad turned back. "But I can teach them the work. How to investigate. How to judge. How to bear the burden of taking a life for the greater good."
Marius studied his son. "You want to build a network. An order."
"I want to build something that outlasts me. I am a hundred and twenty years old. Vampires age slowly, but they age. One day, I will be too old to hunt. Or I will make a mistake and die." Vlad's voice was flat, clinical. "The work should not die with me."
Marius nodded slowly. "And these people – where will you find them?"
"I have been watching. There are mercenaries, former guards, disillusioned knights – men and women who have seen corruption and want no part of it. People who care about the truth, not the banner they serve." Vlad picked up a small notebook from the workbench. "I have a list. A dozen names. I will approach them carefully, one by one."
"And if they refuse?"
"Then they refuse. I will not force them. But I will not stop looking."
Marius was quiet for a long moment. Then he clasped Vlad's shoulder.
"You have changed, my son. You are not the cold, solitary boy who locked himself in a tower. You are becoming something else."
"Something better?"
"Something human." Marius smiled. "Your mother will be proud."
Vlad looked away. "Do not tell her yet. I have not decided how to approach them."
"When you do, bring them to the keep. She will want to feed them."
"They will not all be human."
Marius shrugged. "She has cooked for worse."
Dromos 29, Imperial Year 1643
Thornreach – The Road
Vlad walked his father to the door. The snow had stopped, and the sky was clear, the stars bright.
"The armor," Marius said. "Zero. Another stunt?"
"Another stunt," Vlad admitted. "But a necessary one. The Raven cannot recruit. He is a symbol of fear. Zero can be a symbol of something else."
"What?"
"Justice. Calm. Precision. Or perhaps just a mercenary in a mask. I have not decided."
Marius laughed. "You overthink everything."
"It is why I am still alive."
They embraced – a brief, firm hug. Then Marius walked into the night, and Vlad returned to his workshop.
He stood before the armor of Zero, running his fingers over the cold steel.
The work is not all that matters anymore, he thought. The people are.
He picked up the notebook and opened it to the first page. A name. A location. A potential recruit.
He would begin tomorrow.
End of Chapter Twenty-Two