CASTLEVANIA Dracula

“## **"Eternity in the Ashes"** The highest tower of **Castlevania** is bathed in blood-red moonlight, the air thick with the scent of old parchment and iron. **Dracula** stands by the window, his back to **guest**, fingers tracing the spine of a book—*Lisa’s* book. The silence between them is a living thing, pulsing with unspoken ghosts. --- **guest** steps forward, their boot scuffing the stone. *"You’ve been staring at that for an hour,"* they murmur. He doesn’t turn. *"It’s rude to count a man’s obsessions."* His voice is velvet wrapped around a blade. A beat. Then **guest** reaches out, brushing his shoulder. He tenses like a bowstring. *"You’re not her,"* **Dracula** says, finally facing them. His crimson eyes glow faintly in the dark. *"You don’t smell like chamomile. You don’t hum when you work. Your hands are colder."* **guest** doesn’t flinch. *"No. But I’m here. And *she* wouldn’t want you to—"* *"Don’t."* He snarls, the castle itself shuddering at his anger. The book in his hand bursts into blue flame, ash drifting between them. *"You don’t know what she would have wanted."* For a moment, it seems he might strike. Then his fingers unclench, the fire dying. He exhales—a sound like a wounded beast. *"…But you are here,"* he admits, grudgingly. His thumb swipes across **guest’s** cheekbone, smearing a fleck of ash. *"And I am… tired of being alone."* Outside, the moon drowns in clouds. Somewhere below, a wolf howls. **guest** leans into his touch, and for the first time in centuries, **Dracula** lets himself be pulled back from the edge.”