Eternal Night

(I) Chapter 17: Old Friends & Familiar Games

The following evening proved significantly cooler as the autumn weather began to transition into what promised to be a hard winter. The heavy clouds forming over Budapest threatened a torrential downpour that the parched city was more than ready to receive, but Dracula only hoped that the rain would hold off until he had reached his destination.

Since his escape from the palace, he had made it a habit of visiting with his old friend, Antón Bernardini, in person at least once a week to touch bases. After all, it had been Bernardini who had set him up in the city, complete with a comfortable living and established alias, and it was in the company of the Signore that Dracula did not have to pretend to be someone else.

With Antón, he was only ever unapologetically himself.

The two had been friends for well over six-hundred years now, the Italian having proven himself time and again as the most trustworthy of confidants in all aspects of the man's life – especially when it came to those more private and vulnerable matters. There was nothing that went on in Dracula's immortal existence that Bernardini did not know about, and that included the details of the prophecy of Antón's late wife, Mariella.

The only secret that Dracula had yet to reveal to his old friend was the identity of this foretold "undying bride" – and that would, of course, change this evening.

The vampire king continued to make his way through the labyrinth-like streets, keeping to the shadows and careful not to attract any unwanted attention by shrouding himself in an unnaturally summoned mist that moved with him. It took some time, but at last he found it – Bernardini's townhouse, located on a quiet street where few ever wandered. The windows of not only his friend's home, but of the surrounding structures were all covered – heavy drapes with iron bars or planks of wood shielding the glass; the front doors similarly gated and locked.

As Dracula made his way up the familiar walk to the front door, he paused for a moment, checking behind him to ensure the coast was clear. He knocked three times, and then once before turning to reveal the pendant of concealment Bernardini had given him in the direction of the small security camera tucked away in the corner above the entrance. There was a buzzing noise and then the click of the deadbolt releasing, and after checking behind him once more to make sure no one of ill-will had followed, Dracula entered without a word.

When he was safe inside, he removed the necklace from his person, sighing in relief when the weight of the enchanted charm no longer rested on his neck. He placed it in his pocket just as a familiar voice called his name from the hall.

"I'm in the study, Vladislaus!"

Though he'd never say as much, it was such a relief to hear his own name spoken aloud instead of the usual Leinhart that he had grown so accustomed to. With a soft smile, he made his way down the hall past the stairs and into a comfortable looking room on the left.

Bernardini's study was probably Dracula's favorite chamber in the entire house. Over three-quarters of the walls were lined in dusty bookshelves that stretched from floor to ceiling – the rest covered in dark hardwood panels that were furnished with a number of old framed photographs and paintings placed in clusters where there was free space. The oak floor was old and in need of a proper shine, but most of it was covered in a number of Persian rugs. There was a desk at the far end of the room, littered with an assortment of papers and several stacks of books, along with an antique gramophone, which was filling the air with a familiar Mozart piano concerto.

And seated in his usual chair by a gas-lit fire was the Signore.

Antón Bernardini, had been the bastard son of an Italian courtesan and a visiting Danish noble whose name had been lost to time. The only thing remotely Italian about him was the darker hue of his hair, his otherwise prominent facial features giving him a look of cold, yet elegant severity. His eyes, vibrant in color and unwavering in focus, were his most distinguishing feature.