Set in the "Pulp Hellsing" timeline _not_ in the "Dances
Set To The Music Of Time" timeline.

*************************************************

            DANCES SET TO THE MUSIC OF TIME
                       An Epic History of Humanity
                          From The Age of Silver
                           To The Age of Crystal
                                 And Beyond

         http://rakhal.com/florestica/elsa-bibat/index.html

                 Other fanfiction by the same author:
          http://rakhal.com/florestica/elsa-bibat/index.html

                  Kindly archived by Larry F and
                   The Lost Library of Florestica:
                    http://rakhal.com/florestica/
*************************************************



-- Attached file included as plaintext by Ecartis --
-- File: hellp.txt

**********************************************************************

    Disclaimer:

    Hellsing is owned by Hirano Kouta. All licenses belong to the proper
people. This is used without permission.

    The Shadow was created by Walter Gibson. All licenses and rights
belong to the proper people. This is used without permission.

    This disclaimer also applies to several intellectual properties
referred to in the text. Please be guided accordingly.

    This file can be freely distributed so long as it appears in its
complete form and proper credit given. No part may be reproduced for
monetary gain without permission from the author.

**********************************************************************

   Chapter 7 
    History

    Then they went down.

    To Ceres, one of the more irritating properties of the Helsing
mansion was the fact that some of its rooms and passages were, for lack
of a better word, invisible to her sight. She could have sworn that the
corridor that led to this spiral staircase did not exist. She had passed
the spot where Walter had led her so many times during her stay that she
was quite sure that it was a blank wall. This had also happened several
times during her stay when she occasionally stumbled into corridors that
led to nowhere and brickwalled rooms that were suddenly serviceable
rooms only when she was in the company of either Walter or Integra. Her
discomfiture must have showed since Walter favored her with a light
smile.

    "The occult defenses of the mansion are much more formidable than
the physical, Mistress Victoria. Though, they are far more subtle than
we sometimes wish."

    Ever since the Tower incident, Walter had taken to calling her
'Mistress' in the same way he used 'Master' with Alucard. It was a
strange, but welcome, reminder of how much she had changed since she
first arrived here.

    "You mean that this is all...magic?"

    Walter's lips quirked into an odd wiry smile.

    "You can call it so. Though the Helsing mansion itself was
constructed in the age of Mad King George, the foundations on which it
was built on were created much earlier. This used to be a castle during
the reign of Elizabeth I. As a matter of fact, the Hellsing organization
used to have several castles under its supervision during her reign."

    "You mean the Night Guard, right?"

    A silent nod answered her as they continued their walk down,

    The two of them were going down because she had given in to her
curiosity and asked Walter about what Alucard had mentioned earlier to
her about the Hellsing organization's history.

    Walter had only blinked and then nodded and asked her to follow him.
That's why they were here right now, walking down a very long set of
stairs.

    "Uh...Walter, aren't we a lot deeper than the basement by now?"

    Walter chuckled and favored the young vampire with an indulgent
smile.

    "We are going to one of the two most important places in Hellsing
history, mistress. Also, like the Ritual Vault, the Library can be used
against the House of Helsing as easily for it. The Library is...
protected by the subtle nuances of its magical defenses and the veins of
silver ore and silvered mortar that surround it. And for that to work,
the Helsing family used the Night Guard's deeper structures. Very deep.
This stair is the only way in or out and if you were not a Knight of
Hellsing, mistress, you would be a pile of ash from the enspelled bricks
that you have been stepping on."

    Ceres blinked and she looked down at the dark stone at her feet. For
that matter, she had been feeling as if a flowing river was running by
her feet. She stamped her foot on the paving, lightly so as not to break
it, and felt the rock, seemingly, push back.

    "Odd thing that."

    "Shall we continue, mistress?

    "Um...yes."

    They walked down for another five minutes, a length of time that was
quite noticeable on the large candle Walter was holding in one hand.
Ceres just arched her eyebrow as the wax drippings suddenly disappearing
before they even hit the floor. Useful that.

    They finally came to the bottom of the stairs and she saw the door.
It was an ugly thing of silvered metal with rather sharp protrusions
that she suspected weren't there for decorative purposes. Three
demonically beautiful faces peered from the door's upper frame like
arrogant guardians. Grooves in mysterious swirling patterns were set
into the door's face. Ceres followed them with her eyes, they reminded
of something Celtic, why that would be she could't put a finger on. She
noted that the patterns each led to a particular face.

    "The Three." Walter answered her unvoiced question. "Urthr,
Verthrandi and Skald. The First of your kind, mistress."

    "Hmm? Aren't they from Norse Mythology?"

    "Yes. It has been wondered whether they stole the names or they
truly are the Norns of legend. They did weave a large part of human
history." Walter smiled sardonically as he lit two candles set on the
right and left of the door with his own.

    "Er... could you explain that?"

    "Since the beginning of recorded history, vampires have influenced
events that would bend their human herd to their wills. An empire here,
a kingdom there. Princes and Emperors dancing to their puppet strings.
That was until a thousand years ago, of course."

    Ceres just sighed at the cryptic comment.

    "Walter, one of these days you, me, Integra and Alucard are going to
have a long talk on saying cryptic remarks that tease me about my lack
of learning. You could at least give me some light reading on this sort
of thing before dropping all of it on me at once."

    Walter just chuckled then blew his candle out. He took off one of
his gloves and drew his hand across a sharp spike that was set in the
middle of the door. The blood from his wound inexplicably defied gravity
and did not drop to the floor. It remained on the spike's tip for a few
moments and slowly moved down the spike of its own accord, disappearing
into the door via the hole that the spike was set on, until the metal
appendage shone silver once again.

    "Your turn, mistress."

    Recovering from her surprise, Ceres gave the old butler a sidelong
look and just shook her head in surrender. She copied Walter's act,
feeling the swift burning the silver gave her eat into her palm. That
was going to leave a mark.

    Her blood followed Walter's down the sliver spike, though it bubbled
and frothed as it made its descent. When it disappeared, the silver
faces atop the door suddenly opened their mouths with an audible clank,
baring metallic fangs and revealing cavernous maws. The weak candlelight
gave their profiles a terrifying demoniac life. Another clank and,
suddenly, the silvered spike retreated into the door and disappeared
from sight.

    "What now? Can you open it now?" Ceres asked as she looked with
hesitation at the silver door and the cold faces.

    "Hush, mistress. Here comes the fun part." Walter grinned as another
clank resounded and the sound of gears turning echoed in the chamber.

    Then, blood exploded...no, erupted from the center of the door, from
where the silver spike had disappeared into, much more than what could
have gone in. The crimson liquid seeped into the myriad grooves and then
sped down the silver traceries, like red snakes. Her eyes followed the
pattern they made as they whirled, curved and twirled down the grooves,
rendering the patterns in scarlet with unnatural, gravity-defying speed.
Then, each line of blood, one by one, finally reached their
destinations.

    Running upwards the silver chins, the blood finally entered into the
gaping mouths and disappeared into a trio of silver-metal throats. The
For a moment, Ceres could swear that the unliving eyes of the three
argent faces glowed red. The blood flowed for a few moments then tapered
off, disappearing completely and cleanly as if it had never existed.

    Then, as one, three mouths clamped shut with a metal clank.

    Ceres heard a faint rumbling, which would mean it would be inaudible
to humans and even she had to strain her ears. The mechanism must be
buried deep within the rock. A distant clang, then the silver door
before her opened with such speed that, if she had been human, she'd
have thought it had disappeared.

    "Impressive, was it not, Mistress Victoria?" Walter asked as he
stepped into the revealed chamber, a long corridor dimly lit with an
unearthly red light from small openings in the ceiling.

    "What was that!? What is this?!" Ceres followed the old butler in as
they walked.

    "A very old and very well-defended crypt. Over two thousand men and
three vampire ordinates died storming it back during the Restoration.
They didn't even reach the halfway point. Only a full vampiric Knight of
the Order managed to get through to the end and destroy the Night Guard
vampires who were hiding there. Even then he was half-destroyed and
managed to survive only through the efforts of some of our best
sorcerers and the blood of ten men to revive him."

    Victoria glared at Walter as they continued their walk. "Walter,
what did I say about cryptic teasers?"

    "You will know about all of it soon enough, Mistress Victoria."

    Ceres finally noticed that they had entered a circular chamber, well
lit by strange globes hanging, as if by nothing, on thin air. The
chamber's cracked stone walls exuded an atmosphere of agelessness that
permeated the room. Entranceways to other part of the crypt could be
seen periodically spaced in the wall.Scrolls and books were set on
scattered tables in the cavernous room, all seeming to emanate from the
center.

    What was there took Ceres breath away with its utter wrongness.

    It was a woman, a vampire, short and slim, sprawled upon a
comfortable looking chair reading a very thick book with a rather
elaborate hardcover. Bespectacled and with long curly black hair that
disappeared into the flowing robes that she wore, she radiated an aura
of sensuality that almost brought the younger vampire to her knees.

    And it was so wrong.

    When she was a child in middle school, Ceres had a classmate named
Hanna. This young girl was probably the most reviled student at the
public school that the young Victoria attended. Large ugly monstrous
spectacles perched on a button-thick nose, with glaring intense eyes
that hinted at hatred and pain that could not be shared. Wild hair that
did not get combed and a physique that hinted at starvation, all wrapped
up in old hand-me-down clothes that covered her entire body. Her looks,
combined with her anti-social personality, made her an easy target.
There were rumors of abusive coke-addict parents, horrible uncles and
despicable aunts, of molesting grandfathers and apathetic grandmothers.

    Ceres remembered the time that she had accidentally entered the
school bathroom to see Hanna's normally concealed arms revealed in all
their hideous glory. Long scars, puckering burns, red welts that her
younger self couldn't even imagine possible. She hadn't intended to
stare but the sight was so hideously fascinating that she couldn't tear
her eyes away. Her eyes had then strayed to her classmate's face and saw
the embarassment and fear on Hanna's face turn to anger as she saw
Ceres' face.

    Ceres felt the slamming backhand into her face rather than saw it.
The scrawny and thin girl must have broken her hand the way she cradled
it as she glared hate from behind her askew spectacles.

    Don't you _dare_ pity me. Don't you _dare_, those eyes screamed at
her. Hanna had left immediately afterwards but that incident would stay
with Ceres for the rest of her life and be one of those moments that
flash on in those vague moments of epiphany that plague one's life.

    One of which she was having now.

    This woman looked just like Hanna.

    Only older and much deadlier.

    And she was the most beautiful woman that she had ever seen.

    She noticed Walter smile as he noticed her reaction.

    "Do not worry. Sappho has that sort of effect on women, especially
on the first encounter. You're doing as well as Lady Integra did."

    Ceres took a deep breath and glanced at the butler with eyes that
fairly burned crimson. Walter's only response to this was a slight
additional quirk of the cheek to accentuate his smile.

    "You could have warned me!" Ceres' voice was a whisper. The
bibliothic atmosphere of the environment seemed to neccesitate the need
for quiet voices that didn't disturb the dust. Walter's response was a
sardonic maxim that was said in the same hushed tones.

    "The universe doesn't believe in warnings, Mistress Victoria."

    A dirty look and an arched eyebrow later, they approached the woman,
who was still undisturbed, reading in the center of the chamber.

    "Lady Sappho." Walter's tone was that of polite respect that
bordered on insouciance, a tone that Ceres always noticed that a long-
suffering servant at the Helsing manor used when dealing with its more
... intense occupants. Ceres never could get that tone right and she
figured that it was something that the servants learned along the way.

    "Leave the bucket on the floor, Walter." The elder vampire, for she
couldn't be any thing else but an elder with the power that seemed to
radiate from her person, waved Walter off without even raising her head,
the faint unrecognizable accent in her voice giving her statement a
slightly musical cadence. This was when Ceres noticed the faint scent of
iron in the air and leaned over to see the half-filled bucket of
coagulated blood beside the luxurious chair that the vampire was
lounging in.

    "Ahem." Polite cough, sorry to intrude. Jeeves himself couldn't have
done better. It was moments like this that Walter seemed to be the
kindly butler rather than the deadliest mortal in Hellsing's employ.
Ceres suspected that he had a mental 'on-off' switch for that.

    The vampire that Walter called Sappho turned her gaze slowly and
looked at Walter. A barely imperceptible nod of the head from him and
the saturnine countenance shifted to her.

    The eyes, red crimson blood pools behind the glasses, seemed to
simultaneously draw her in and impale her in their regard. She could
feel the skin peeling off her flesh in an agonizingly ecstatic moment,
being drawn back like a fruitskin, then the scarlet orbs blinked and
then a frown ended the supernatural inspection.

    "Draconis dragulae. Have you come to challenge me in my abode,
Childe of the Serpent?" Distaste was evident in her voice and Ceres felt
the awesome power coiling within the elder, the air crackled with it to
her undead senses, ready to attack. Her reflexes roared at her to move,
to strike first but Walter's voice cut in before she did something
foolish.

    "Lady, Mistress Victoria has not yet succumbed to her bloodline's
unique... foibles. She is here for a few books on history."

    The tension in the air eased, replaced with what Ceres could only
call as surpise. The elder's eyes narrowed and gave her a more physical
examination and turned to Walter.

    "I see that the moron still prefers buxom blondes."

    Walter grinned, a sight that was quite horrifying for the
unprepared. Sappho sighed and flowed - she did not stand up, but
_flowed_, no other word could describe it - up to stand in front of
Ceres.

    "I assume that you are called Victoria?" Sappho stood a few inches
under Ceres' five foot six inches and thus looked up at her, her
entrancing eyes a fearsome few inches away from her face.

    "Yes. My name's Ceres, actually. Ceres Victoria."

    At the mention of Ceres' name, Sappho's face was preternaturally
still. Then she arched an eyebrow and glanced at Walter, who just gave a
'no business of mine, don't look at me' shrug.

    He was enjoying this. Victoria suspected that if it weren't such a
blow to his reputation, the man would have been rolling on the floor
with a belly laugh.

    Ceres would have jumped over and strangled him, it it weren't for
the fact that these two were her obvious superiors in the fighting arts
and any sudden movements might end with something very painful happening
to her.

    "Your name... _your_ name... your _name_ ...YoUr NaMe!?!"

    Ceres thought that it was quite musical how her elder lurched from
drawling questioning wonderment to screeching bewildered outrage.
Especially with her accent. The way that she rolled the two words in her
mouth like clothes in the dryer was enviably well done.

    "Your master,", the title was spat out with quite a bit of bile and
obvious derision," has obviously lost a sizable amount of his wits since
last we met."

    "Er..." Trying to edge in a word was obviously not an option as
Sappho continued.

    "That stupid...stupid...stupid... example of manly idiocy has once
again taken another woman into his Fold and keeps on doing the same
thing! Like all of his kind!" The vampire elder glared at her. "Of
course, he only teaches you the so-called 'important' things! How to
keep the blood warm while he's away! How to make sure _His_ crypt is
clean of vermin! How to get the blood out of _His_ clothes! How to
seduce other women to join you for a 'drink'! How to do that 'little
thing' with the tongue that he likes! So...tell me has he 'taught' you
anything of importance?!"

    "Er... he hasn't taught me _anything_ at all." Ceres was frankly
embarassed. Obviously, her master had made a very bad impression on Lady
Sappho.

    Sappho only narrowed her eyes in suspicion and Ceres felt the
invasive swirl into her mind again.

    "Nothing?" Her inquiring tone was tinged with puzzlement. "Nothing
at all? Not even how to call him master properly?"

    "Er... is there a proper way?"

    Sappho turned to look at Walter, who only shrugged again. Ceres
joined in, just glaring at him. In response, his lips twitched and his
eyes had that sardonic twinkle in them. Ceres suppressed the urge to try
and break his neck like a twig.

    Sappho calmed down and returned her gaze to Ceres. She had that
satisfied look that the young vampire equated to all the irate matrons
of her short stint as a street bobby. They had succesfully argued a
point and were in a self-righteous haze of triumph, somewhat akin to a
snake digesting her prey.

    "Obviously tearing his testicles off the last time did the trick."
Sappho's declaration made Ceres' eyes widen, but she ignored the younger
vampire's reaction and continued. "A history lesson for our young
ordinate, Walter?"

    "Yes, the basics and recent history."

    "Then let me see if that section is stable."

    Sappho quickly left, the edges of her heavy black robes dragging
like big great wings on the dry stone floor. Ceres turned to Walter and
voiced her urgent question.

    "Tore the Master's testicles off?"

    Walter smiled and explained.

    "Master Alucard and Lady Sappho have had semi-regular duels ever
since his arrival. The last time they squared off, the Lady tore off the
Master's genitals."

    Ceres winced. Walter only nodded his assent and continued.

    "It was quite debilitating and Master Alucard actually limped for a
week or so. I suspect that the Lady used one of her more ...esoteric
abilities to enhance the pain."

    The blonde vampire just shook her head and looked to the corridor
that her elder had left through.

    "Who is she? What is she doing here? Why was she so angry when I
told her my name? And what did she mean by 'stable'? I thought this
place was made to last!"

    Walter shook his head and checked on the bucket of blood first,
wincing as he noticed its half-filled state, before answering.

    "What the Lady Sappho meant by 'stable' was that that particular
section of the library is there. And that the path to that section be
reasonably safe."

    "Huh?" Ceres was now officially confused.

    "Sorcery was used in the creation of the Night Guard crypt to make
it difficult for any 'fearless vampire hunter' to go about from room to
room. Additional sorcery was used to pile on the upgraded protections of
the Library. They didn't exactly mix well.

    "Now, the Library is a labyrinth that crosses through both space
_and_ time. I've encountered several ... temporal anomalies myself in my
wanderings here. They are all quite unpleasant in some form or the
other, especially the elder Night Guard. And I need not explain to you
about the problems with meeting yourself from the future in these halls.
Thus, the Lady checks for stability and safety before leaving the
central chamber."

    Ceres could only blink in surprise. Then she continued.

    "Then who is she? I think I heard about Sappho in literature class-"
Walter interrupted her with a shake of his head.

    "That is not her name. That is what she calls herself. It _may_ be
her name, but she will never tell anyone. The reason why the Lady was so
angry at you earlier was because you gave her your _name_." Walter's
lips thinned into a smile. "She is of the traditional school and of
great age, thus she believes in the power of names.

    Ceres frowned. "So... she was right? My name's got to be secret?"

    The corner of Walter's lip tilted as a little, a small smile that
usually accompanied a kind grandparent's ruffling of their
grandchildren's hair as they ask stupid questions.

    "If you were older, yes. A Name is like a pearl." Walter gave her a
meaningful glance through his monocle. "It is a speck of dust and it
gathers your sins to yourself. Two, three hundred years and your name
would be a thing of power. Sappho and your master take care not to
reveal their names since they are old and powerful.

    "Oh, some paltry hedge mage could possibly do something with a young
Name. Some street trick, a parlor illusion. But with Names of power, of
demons and elder lords, many things can be done for the Name would have
grown noticeable to the Laws and thus can be bound by Them."

    Ceres' look was blank as he regarder the Helsing butler. "I'm going
to ignore the fact that half of your explanation was as clear as mud to
me and proceed to the next question: what is another elder vampire doing
under the Hellsing roof?"

    Walter quirked his lips in a moue of ...Ceres didn't have the word
to describe it in her vocabulary, plus the actual sight of Walter,
literally pouting, froze her brain. Walter didn't seem to notice and
continued.

    "Lady Sappho is of the bloodline of Hypatia. Arminius Helsing
brought her here to be caged in the Library, as both a specimen and an
asset."

    "Caged?" Puzzled, Ceres looked around. It did look formidable but
for an _elder_...

    Walter chuckled, a sonorous sound in the loneliness of the
underground chamber.

    "Hypatian vampires are obsessed by books. Similar to some Eastern
bloodlines, they are compelled to read an opened book on sight. They
also have the additional dementia to ... serve books, in a way. Show
them a damaged book and they will drop everything to repair it. A
sufficiently disorganized and large library could quite easily put a
Hypatian out of circulation for years. Fairly ridiculous sounding but
quite deadly for them. Quite a few of the bloodline died in libraries
burned to the ground with them inside. Sappho is under compulsion to
catalogue the Library, but the Library has books that suddenly appear
and disappear and sections that do not exist on some days. Also, on the
full moon, the books and shelves rearrange themselves according to the
magics set upon them.

    "Sappho is like Sisyphus, pushing the rock upwards and having it
fall back down again at the bottom. And as Camus once said, Sisyphus has
come not to hate the rock but to love it. She has achieved a modicum of
happiness here: peace, quiet, something to do, a large supply of books
and a steady supply of blood."

    Ceres looked to the bucket, with its edges coated in brown
coagulate. "I can see that."

    Walter laughed and shook his head.

    "We even manage to acquire a death-row convict or, more likely, a
repeat sex offender that no one would miss and let him loose in here.
The Lady quite enjoys the exercise."

    Ceres could only blink and nod at that particular tidbit of
information. I did not need to know that, Ceres thought to herself as
she looked around. She glanced at the book that Sappho was reading and
blinked when she noticed the title. She was going to ask Walter about it
when she felt the elder's presence approaching the room.

    She turned to look at the tunnel in which the Lady had left the
central chamber but was surprised when she came out of a corridor two
doors to the left. Sappho was wiping her hand off on a rag which she
quickly made to disappear in her voluminous robes.

    "The way is cleared. Come."

    Walter motioned for her to follow and they both followed the elder
vampire down the halls of the crypt.

    When Walter had mentioned that the crypt was labyrinth, Ceres had
imagined a straightforward maze. The reality was something much
different.

    The corridor was actually a short hallway that terminated into an
eight-sided chamber. The chamber was the size of a good-sized parlor and
had a central table, three shelves and four entryways, one of which they
had entered from. A painting was set in the wall that was deprived of a
shelf. A blonde haired Victorian gentleman peered at them as they
continued their progress.

    They entered another similar chamber and onto another. All chambers
though the location of entranceways and shelves were different each
time. The paintings were also noticeably different. Some were in their
formal clothes, others in somewhat more relaxed environs. In one
chamber, Ceres was surprised to see a portrait of Lady Integra in full
Slayer regalia, breastplate shining and sword at her side. She just
shook her head and continued following Sappho with Walter.

    Progressing through the chambers, Ceres had an inkling of a
honeycomb structure deep underground. The arrangement and construction
itself would be daunting task, a testament to the Library's original
creators, the Night Guard. Her contemplation was interrupted when Sappho
asked her a question.

    "Tell me, childe, has your master regrown his genitals thoroughly
yet?" Ceres felt what little cogent blood left she had in her body rush
to her cheeks.

    "Er... I don't know."

    Sappho arched an eyebrow.

    "I believe that you are his Bride, are you not?"

    The tone was sardonic and Ceres bristled.

    Well, she would have bristled had she not realized what the elder
meant.

    Oh. "Er... I... sort of... don't remember anything..."

    Sappho peered over her glasses, crimson eyes strangely focused in a
rather surprisingly modern fashion, Ceres recognizing the 'are you
serious?!' look from exasperated friends during her middle school years.
Then, like a striking snake, she felt the psychic equivalent of a sucker
punch rock her consciousness.

    Ceres swayed and almost fell into those bloody pools but months of
exposure to Alucard's constant mental invasions helped her stand her
ground.

    Sappho just shook her head and, when the elder's eyes left her own,
coherency returned to the world.

    "Interesting. You seem to be telling the truth."

    I could have told you that, Ceres grumbled inside her head, no need
for the psychic shenanigans. Obviously Sappho had already left her head
as the older vampire continued.

    "Incredibly enough you won't be contributing any anecdotes to 'A
Young Woman's Guide to Unnatural Copulation'?"

    Ceres swore she had heard Walter snort in amusement, but ignored it,
and abashedly nodded.

    Sappho blinked and regarded her with a considering look. "Tearing
his genitals off _must_ have worked. Will have to remember that the next
time he visits."

    Trying to change the topic of conversation, Ceres tried to change
the subject. "Er...Lady Sappho?"

    "Hmmm?"

    "Why are you wearing glasses? I thought all vampires had perfect
eyesight."

    Cere's elder arched an eyebrow and gave her a look. A light shock
traveled through her body and something skimmed her thoughts.

    "Trying to change the subject? Childe, you have as much sense as a
virgin goat at a bacchanalia."

    When Ceres didn't react to her insult, Sappho just sighed.

    "My spectacles? Don't you notice anything about them, childe? Look a
little closer."

    At the elder's invitation, Ceres leaned in for a closer look. She
immediately noticed the strange scratches that seemed to line the
eyeglasses' frame. Further examination and they seemed to look similar
to the runes that she'd seen on a TV special once.

    "They're magical?"

    Sappho laughed, light and low.

    "You could say that. The lenses are from a crystal found only in the
Himalayas, the runes carved in to metal that fell from the stars with a
silver chisel. Arminius probably worked on it for half a decade before
setting it on my head. They limit my powers. They are still effective
even though, with the passing of time, they are slowly becoming
ineffectual."

    "Ineffectual!? What do you call what you're doing to me and Walter?"

    Sappho smiled thinly and looked at the pony-tailed butler with a
sharp glance. Walter only smiled.

    "It seems you are as good as Walter says you are. He maybe acting a
little ... how do you moderns call it?...fruity and you yourself are
feeling the effects of my glammer but if it were not for the fact that
you are of the Serpent and Walter's mind is the equivalent of a mental
fortress, you would be both on knees like fawning dogs."

    The elder vampire stopped and stared Ceres straight in the eyes. The
fearsom crimson orbs that were her eyes drilled into Ceres' mind like
hot knife through butter. Then a voice thundered within her head
accompanied with vile images of her body torn to pieces in various
means.

    Know this, Childe. _This_ is my place of power.

    _Never_ challenge me here.

    Do you _understand_?

    Then the telepathic assault ceased and Ceres was staring down at her
elder's dagger-blade smile. She made the only response she could make.

    "Yes. Yes, I do."

    "Good. Just a little advance warning. Children of the Serpent have
this tendency to do stupid things to prove their superiority. And I have
no truck with stupidity, especially here. Shall we continue?"

    Ceres could only nod and they continued on their way. They
crisscrossed a few more chambers before they stopped.

    To Ceres' eyes, the room was no different from the several others
they had passed. Books and scrolls were set in the oak shelves. The
hanging globe of light shed dim readable light on the tableau.

    "All the Helsing books, I've put here. Walter knows which to pick
for your introduction."

    Ceres blinked as Walter stepped forward with a nod and went to the
shelves.

    "Helsing books? I thought we were looking for history books?"

    Sappho shook her head. "For this month, the Library is organized via
the numerological rating of the author's last name raised to the square
and then retranslated into the Urdu alphabet. You are lucky that much of
the books we have on Night Guard and the Order's history were written by
members of the Helsing family and not anyone else. You'd probably have
to take several trips."

    Walter had already piled a good mound of books on the central table
when Ceres noticed the painting for this chamber.

    A tough looking blonde, he was dressed in a long tan coat over
rugged clothes, his blue eyes stared out with brilliant intensity. The
young vampire could only stare as something inside her seemed to click
and her undead heart beat faster as she looked into the painted cerulean
orbs.

    "Ah! I see you've noticed our distinguished host!" Sappho was
surprisingly delighted in her tone.

    "Who is he?" Ceres's voice was a whispering wind. Only Sappho heard
and she deigned to answer.

    "Roland _Van_ Helsing, the last Van Helsing. Died over twenty years
ago in a battle with one of your bloodline, Childe."

    "Van Helsing? Any relation to the Helsings?"

    Sappho smiled like a feline after an ornithological meal. "The
progenitor of the Helsing line was the black sheep of Van Helsing line.
Arminius Helsing believed that fire could be fought with fire and that
understanding must first come before destruction. The Van Helsing family
had espoused an Inquisitorial tradition of ruthless vampire-hunting
using the tried-and-true methods for generations, under the purview of
the Iscariote Ministry. He turned away from that tradition to study our
kind, Childe. He imprisoned and analyzed me, dealt with the Night Guard
in a rather peaceful manner for a vampire hunter and through these
dealings enabled the Restoration. It gave him royal backing and support
which could not have come at a better time. The Van Helsings of
Amsterdam had found out about his dabblings in the dark arts and
Iscariote learned of his dealings with the Night Guard. His family
struck his name from their lists and the Vatican sent its assassins.
That started a bloody tradition of feuding that would last until
Roland's death two decades ago. I think they have this painting of him
here as a sort of ghoulish tribute towards that occassion."

    Ceres was only partially listening. Her attention was on the
painting, on the rough planes of the face, of the stolid determination
inherent in it. A certain nobility plagued thos care-worn feature, that
of a man knowing his doom yet still moving forward.

    "He has the brightest blue eyes." Sappho obviosly heard the younger
vampire's whisper as she responded.

    "A Van Helsing trait. They have a rare eye color that manifests in
their bloodline."

    Ceres blinked and then, after a few moments of consideration, she
chuckled. Sappho arched an eyebrow and the young fledgeling waved it
off.

    "That would make me a Van Helsing then. My eyes are the same color."

    "They're red, my dear. Far from blue."

    "Oh, yes. I forgot about that." Ceres raised a hand to the side of
her face. "But they were blue before Alucard ... turned me. I remember
because when I asked my father once, when I was little, why I had
different eyes than him, he told me that was because I was his special
angel and angels all had blue eyes." At the memory, Ceres laughed a high
melodious laugh, a laugh totally inappropriate for a creature of the
grave.

    Ceres then noticed that both of her companions were now looking at
her.

    "Interesting." Walter voiced his thoughts as Ceres turned away
hurriedly in embarassment. The tone made her surreptitiously glance at
her two companions as she pretended to look over the books on the table
as Walter stepped up towards portrait of the last Van Helsing.

    Ceres noticed Sappho sharing a look with Walter as they gazed at the
portrait of Roland, with his wild, sandy blonde hair and azure eyes, and
she noticed the secret glance that they shared as they returned their
looks to her.

    Then, Ceres heard the ancient Hypatian vampire's voice whisper in
her ear with an eerie, predatory tone.

    "_Very_ interesting."



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