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Castlevania: Psalm of Butterflies

Chapter 1

This Castlevania Au features an entirely new story set within the universe involving a cast of Ocs who are more interconnected than they think. Alucard is there too, I guess. The artwork presented within this writing was made by me, NeonReflections.

Characters- Miguel Retamar (Oc), Alucard (Adrian Fahrenheit Tepes), Boreas Belmont (Mentioned Oc)

Word Count- 5027

Major Content Warnings- Violence, gore, and Death. Castlevania itself holds general mature themes, so please read with caution or avoid reading altogether if these things make you uncomfortable.

Chapter Summary- Being taken from his home, Miguel Retamar sets out to escape the clutches of the monsters that hold him prisoner in the strange castle he was thrown into. Escape seems impossible, but with some surprise aid, things look less bleak.

Notes/Comments- This AU was in the making many months back and it was about time I wrote it and shared it with people properly. Despite the fact I talk about it often through TikTok videos and mentioning it to friends, it is different actually writing it and sharing it with others. This AU holds a special place in my heart as it was one of the few things I put so much time, effort, AND BRAINROT into. I hope you all will enjoy Miguel's story, he means a lot to me as an oc I created, from him being rep for me as a trans man and just his journey through such a strange world he lives in.

Caged. Caged, cold, and alone with a bunch of rancid-smelling monsters in a dungeon of some castle in the middle of the woods. Where was this castle? Miguel doesn’t even know where. For all he cared, he needed to find an opening to use a spell to get out of these iron bars, but a gangly, furry beast was watching his cage with an empty stare. He couldn’t tell if it was keeping watch, or disassociating with a hundred-yard stare but he didn’t want to take any chances if it meant potentially grabbing its attention and alerting the other night creatures. He could hear his inner heartbeat while watching the scene of patrolling, mangled bodies, just waiting, watching, observing.

A shrill, croak from one of the troops. The dutiful guard turns its head.

An opening.

Miguel willed his hands and thrust forth with a surge of power, shooting the iron bars from their hinges and right into the monster guard’s head leaving a spray of red. The loud clanging alerted the other creatures, but Miguel was already running as fast as he could, hastily lifting his robe so he wouldn’t trip. Holding his book and robe skirt wasn’t viable, but he couldn’t care less as he was running from the horde that ensued. Monsters of all kinds were screeching and howling as they clamored and chased after the mage, reaching out and trying to collect their prey as they ran out of the musty dungeons and into the opulent halls of the castle. The mage could tell he was on a ground floor of some kind. The tall windows flew past him as he fled with the blue winter moon holding witness to his desperate escape.

The halls were winding and confusing, expensive furniture torn to threads by the claws and maws of the encroaching captors. Miguel knew he couldn’t keep running forever. He will run out of stamina and collapse from all this physical exertion, making him mentally curse himself for never training with Boreas as often as he liked. He just had to stick his nose into books and sit on his ass all the time back home.

His legs grew weak, but his heart leaped seeing the extravagant entryway with doors seemingly made for giants. He didn’t think twice before he leaped down the stairs and started to pull on the large door handles frantically.

“Come on! Open! Open!” The mage cried as he pulled with all his might and swiveled his head to see the horde growing closer. Miguel wasn’t one for property damage, but it was either him or this unfeeling door, and he was more inclined to save himself. He threw open his book and was frantically flipping through his bookmarked pages, panic rising with each failed attempt to find the right spell. His heart was racing as he glanced at each word. Becoming a fish doesn’t open a fucking door! Fire won’t burn through the door fast enough! The monsters are about to reach him! “Fuck it! I need to do something!”

The mage threw his book aside as he stood back and started throwing random spells at the door. Candles and chairs floated and were thrown at the door, fire was shot, marble crumbled, and wind surged, but nothing even worked. He was about to throw out another last-ditch spell when his arm was yanked by a clawed hand, throwing him against the arms of a humanoid abomination. Miguel tried to fight against the harsh grip on his body as he thrashed and kicked at the fiend, but the afront to God would not let up as it and many others were now trying to right their mistake with a wizened beast coming forth chanting to form a seal on his magic. His one shot at trying to get back home and he already blew it, but he didn’t want to give in. He didn’t want to be handed over to their master! He kicked at the cloaked beast a few times, landing a good blow before another beast came to its aid by holding back Miguel’s legs. He tried screaming and shouting over the chant only for his mouth to be covered by another pair of hands.

No matter how much he tried to bite at the hands covering his mouth desperately, it did nothing. He was growing exhausted. It was the end of the line for him as he watched helplessly as the cloaked creature was finishing the seal-

FWSSSH!

The cloaked one’s top half falls with a gurgling cry leaving a mess of sticky blood on the floor.

The horde grows frenzied looking for the sudden attacker with many sniffing the air for a new scent and others taking off into the air to scout for the intruder, but it is already too late. Their fates were sealed as monsters were cut down by flashes of white and yellow left right and center. Miguel screamed against the hands that bound him as the three creatures that held him were escaping. They were going to complete their orders, even if it meant selling out their comrades, meaning whoever gave the command wanted Miguel alive and kept prisoner. Yet, as he struggled within the creatures’ grasp, he managed to get a hand free and he knew exactly what to do. The mage let out a gust of strong winds knocking the beings down and getting himself free as he had to jolt off the floor and continue running. He couldn’t go back near the entrance, that was where the fighting was. He couldn’t go behind him knowing the monsters were going to get up again, so he dove into a nearby hallway and ran like hell. He didn’t want to get involved with whatever was at that entrance! All he caught were flashes of what he could imagine was a blade back there and it made him wonder about the possibilities. In-fighting between the monsters? The ones that held him hostage did ditch the fight after all, so there must be a reward for keeping him secure, but that alone doesn’t make sense. They all were fighting as an organized group. Maybe Boreas did somehow show up?! Last Miguel saw that Belmont, he was shouting to him about how he would save him from the monsters right when the mage was captured and flown over the waters of the Caribbean Sea and through the Atlantic. However, that in itself is impossible unless he managed to find a way over to this country in the short time he was held prisoner. Puerto Rico was across the pond from wherever he was!

Even as he tried to rake his brain for potential answers, the dying cries of the monsters that followed signaled that who or what this thing was was approaching him. He didn’t want to die a cowardly death, running and getting caught by this being, but knowing it killed a whole horde of monsters said enough. It was after him, so he kept his eyes at front and willed his legs to go just a bit further. He kept telling himself over and over to keep going or else he would never see his dear friend again. Boreas would be devastated hearing his friend died in a castle all alone! He needed to make it out! He needed to survive and get back home so he could fulfill his deepest wish. He can’t die like this. He can’t die with this body he hated. He can’t die knowing that people will never see him as the person he knew he was in the deepest parts of his soul.

Miguel knew that his magical energy needed to be replenished badly after wasting it all trying to open the door, but he mustered up what was left and dashed forth, letting wind magic carry him with tremendous speed. Whizzing down the passages, the mage flung himself and skidded to a stop into some parlor area. There was only one other passageway out that would just continue the chase, so he knew he had to hide. He turned and laid his eyes on a large, fancy couch, diving under it, and kept his breathing down. Adrenaline was in his system and it was hard to keep calm, especially with the presence’s footsteps growing louder. The aura of this being felt like a blinding light you couldn’t tear your eyes away from even when this presence took form into a man in a long black cloak with gorgeous waves of gold. Miguel could only stare in awe from his hiding place feeling that his breath was stolen by the ethereal man searching the room with his piercing gaze. He could stare at him for ages like he were a masterpiece painted by God himself.

How could one look so beautiful, yet so terrifying?

Their eyes locked.

Miguel bristled in fear putting a palm to his mouth to withhold a scream as he cowered in place. He looked no better than a mouse hiding in a wall as he goggled on wide-eyed at the stranger approaching the couch.

“Do you plan on hiding from me forever under that couch?” The beautiful stranger casually called out. Miguel had to admit, the voice was much deeper than he envisioned. He was going to reply, but his vision was filled with those golden eyes staring back at him that made him jump in place. Seeing them up close, he could now see the unnatural hues complementing the irises, the thin pupils, and how there was a sense of lingering sleep in them.

Guess he truly did wake up looking like that.

“Um, yes?”

“That came out like a question.”

“Yes. Um. I’m sorry.” Miguel mentally facepalmed himself just knowing he did that.

There was a small pause, but the stranger continued.

“Are you that afraid?”

“Yes."

“I would be scared as well given your position, hiding under a couch after escaping from night creatures that chased you.” The stranger spoke in what Miguel could place was a sarcastic tone. This one was a wise guy.

“Says the one who cut down those monsters like some flying guillotine. Thought the French Revolution was over a century ago.”

“Touché. I suppose I am that scary to you.” The man chuckled a little which did set the mage at ease a little and chuckled with him. Another pause came, so the mage let out a sigh.

“I suppose I will come out now.” And so he did. Miguel scooted himself out his of hiding place and got up, however felt his anxiety rise seeing that the man also stood at full height, easily towering over him.

“You are quite a tiny little mage wielding such powerful magic. It was hard to keep up with you after you rode that gust of wind.” The stranger commented, but the mage quickly noticed how this man purposely talked in a hushed tone. There was a little whistle when he talked. People don’t usually talk like that unless they want to hide their teeth. With those unnatural eyes and speaking habits, his stomach twisted inside as he looked at the stranger with newfound fear. He quickly looked around for his spellbook, but he let out a whispered meirda remembering how he chucked that thing aside earlier. Sensing the mage’s rising panic, the stranger raised a brow. The stranger opened this cloak to reveal himself further and pulled out the lost thick book. “Missing something?”

A small gasp escaped Miguel as he snatched the book back and clutched it against him with a tight grip. In that book, he learned many things from his days scouring the Belmont trove with Boreas for spells, magic history, and general information on many creatures of the night, but one always came up as a topic of discussion from scholarly texts to journaled eye witness accounts. From the days of Leon Belmont to now, vampires have been extensively researched from how to avoid encountering one to killing them. Miguel instinctively felt one of his dangling cross earrings and did what he must do. He unlatched it from its bead and held it up at the vampire as he backed up from him.

“Back! Stay back!” Miguel's voice wavers, a sign of his fear. Vampires fear crosses. It was said it was because it was a holy symbol throughout cultures long before Jesus Christ came, and it was theorized that the geometry dazes and confuses the creatures. Even then, the vampire did not react at all, only looking at the mage with confusion and annoyance.

The mage had nothing else to aid him unless he broke both his earrings and threw the beads on the floor for the vampire to count. Supposedly vampires count out of habit, but there were very few beads he had and it would only buy him very little time. He had no garlic, silver, or holy water. That was back home in Puerto Rico. He hadn’t even been outside of the castle yet to determine if there was running water either, so he was trapped. Trapped with this vampire who seemingly is immune to a cross being held up at him.

“Please, don’t bite me and drain me of my blood. Don’t make me a vampire either! I would be horrible as one!” Miguel pleaded as he kept the cross up and backed himself up to a bookcase. He was tapped out of magic, so now he just has to resort to begging like a weakling. He hated doing this, but Boreas wasn’t here to protect him like he always had. He was alone with this vampire.

Seeing the pitiful display, the vampire approached closer and bore a blank expression. Miguel quivered where he stood as the man lowered his arm staring at him with those golden eyes. At that moment, he stared into them and a morbid thought came: it wouldn’t be so bad dying to a vampire who looks this beauti-

“I am a dhampir.”

“...What?” Miguel felt stumped for a second before he gasped loudly. There was only one dhampir ever recorded throughout the Belmont family history and he was standing right in front of him. “No. It can’t be! You are Adrian Fahrenheit Tepes?!”

“You know of me?” The man looked at the mage quizzically.

“Know of you?! I read all about you back home! You aided Trevor Belmont and Sypha Belnades back in the mid to late 1400s to defeat your father, you defeated Ritcher Belmont and snapped him out of a mind control spell the dark priest Shaft had cast on him, and you have been there to stop every major vampire uprising! There were even some accounts of your meetings with Belmonts long past within the old dusty journals in their libraries.” Miguel exclaimed as he looked upon the man no longer with fear, but utter joy. “God, I wish Boreas were here now to see you! I bet he would flip his shit! I met the Alucard before he did!”

The dhampir blinked in surprise at how much this mage seemingly knew of him to his first encounter with the Belmonts. Furthermore, now that Alucard realized, this mage is friends with this generation’s Belmont?!

“Wait, wait, wait. You are friends with a Belmont? This is such a huge coincidence.”

“I know, right? I thought you were a myth or a long-dead figure! Oh my God! I have so many questions! What’s it like to sleep in a coffin for many years? Do you feel stiff and tired all the time because of it? How does being in suspended animation work for you? Why is your middle name Fahrenheit? You can turn into a wolf, a bat, and a cloud of mist, so what else can you turn into? Did you really overcome getting hurt by running water by getting an underwater talisman shaped like a snorkel? What do you do when you can’t curb your craving for blood? Do you accidentally bite your lip or tongue with your fang-”

Alucard quickly covered the mage’s mouth with his gloved hand.

“You truly are one of those bookworms that ask too many questions. Okay, I am going to get my hand off your mouth and once I do, please introduce yourself briefly and tell me what you are doing in my father’s castle.” Just hearing that they were in Dracula’s castle put Miguel into a tizzy as he was now speaking into the gloved hand, freaking out and rambling even more. It all just made Alucard quickly facepalm with his other hand.

After a small bit, Miguel calmed down and lowered the hand from his face, adjusting his glasses and putting his cross back on the earring beads to make himself look presentable. “I am Miguel Retamar, a scholar of magic from Puerto Rico, well, not really a scholar. I can’t go to any of the schools of magic for various reasons, but I like to call myself that since I learned from-”

Alucard shot an eyebrow at Miguel.

Right. I have to keep it short.

“Lo seinto. Um, I am a friend of Boreas Belmont, who also lived in Puerto Rico, since we were eight. I got snatched by night creatures, brought to this castle’s dungeon, and thrown in a cage, but I escaped as you saw, but you saved me from those monsters!”

“I see. Transylvania is very far from Puerto Rico, so it must have been a very powerful winged beast that has brought you here. Why could someone possibly want a mage from Puerto Rico of all places? Last I checked, the island was taken over by the United States due to the recent war between the Spanish and Americans.”

“Even for a dhampir that woke up from a long sleep, you do try to keep up with current events.” Miguel’s interest further. “Ah, but yes. The island was colonized and all sorts of people came in. It was an…adjustment.” The mage had a pained expression on his face, lost in thought until he shook himself out of it and continued. “But due to that, it brought the Belmonts to my town.”

“I didn’t take for the Belmonts to come along and live as colonists.” Alucard scoffed at the mere thought of it.

“No, no, no! Don’t worry! They actually help the community and not try to take advantage of it, unlike other people who came to the island. Boreas and his family arrived when he was a boy because his parents were thinking of his future and his father grew tired of constantly fighting monsters. They thought it was a good place to settle down once and for all, so they moved the entire Belmont trove of knowledge and artifacts over as well. That’s what he could remember at least.”

“A Belmont that grew tired of fighting monsters? What next? Hell is going to freeze over and the world will collapse?” The dhampir sarcasm as he went over and sat on the fancy couch with Miguel following suit giving the man considerable space. “My question is where is this Boreas anyway? Shouldn’t he be here carrying out his family line’s destiny, or is he a lazy ass as well?"

“Um, he and I got separated. He is still back home and I am still stuck here.” The mage awkwardly stated which brought a frown to the dhampir’s face.

“Well, I was lucky enough to enter this castle because whoever took over it not only renovated it and got the bridge system around it working again, so there is no way to get in or out. We both are trapped until I find the person in charge and put an end to their plans. I do not want to deal with another possible attempt at reviving Dracula.”

“Seriously?! I don’t think I can hold out until then. You saw how those monsters were after me! They all are looking for me and ready to put me back in a cage.” Miguel uttered as he got up and started pacing around the room, stressing out the more the reality of the situation set in.

“Why are they even after you? You never truly answered that.” The dhampir inquired and yanked Miguel by his robe back over to him once the mage was about to pace past him. “They are keeping you alive for some reason if it means they want a cowardly spellcaster. Adding on, if they are still going to chase you around like rabid dogs, we both better get a move on.”

“Hey! I’ll have you know that this coward was on the right track to making the biggest breakthrough the magic scene has ever known!” He retorted as he turned to Alucard with an indignant pout. How mature for someone who claimed to have been close to making a magical phenomenon… The dhampir just rolled his eyes as he let out a groan got up and started leading the way out of the strange parlor. “Right before I got captured, I was walking out in town with Boreas to get some reading material that may aid me in making a brand new spell. I even had my research journal in my bag, but that was taken deep into the castle as soon as I got taken.”

Alucard looked back and gave yet another surprised look at the mage. Making new spells in the world of magic wasn’t unheard of, but it generally is seen as a hopeless endeavor. Making a new spell means revealing a new concept in a sense, but in this age of progress, it seems people uncovered everything from how to turn into various animals to manipulating the elements. Though, no mage in this era truly was as strong as Sypha if it meant she was the only one who was strong enough to move this entire castle before, Juste Belmont was easily second place with his mastery over the elements during his glory days, but now the question is raised. What concept did this mage want to bring forth to this modern era?

“You do realize how impossible it is to create a new spell? What could you possibly be making that caught the attention of the person taking over this castle?”

Miguel hesitated as he looked at the dhampir warily. How could he ever explain it to someone other than Boreas? It only seemed like he gets it, but Alucard? He knew that he had to keep his cards close to him for now. “Well, it is to manipulate the soul in a sense.” Short and simple. Further context doesn’t need to be added.

“Sounds complex on its own. But why would someone want to take your notes and keep you here just for that if the spell is not made yet? I assume this mystery person had plans to make you finish them for whatever reason.” Alucard mused as the two turned a corner. He knew the paths of this gigantic castle like the back of his hand, but there also was unfamiliarity. All the old decorations and dust had been cleaned or outright replaced. New carpets and curtains were added, new paintings that depicted misery and human suffering, and dare he say the place felt live in rather than desolate.

“Maybe, but for now, I think I will tag along with you-”

“Out of the question.”

‘What?! Why?”

“Need I remind you that you are the same man who had to run away from night creatures and used up all his magic?”

“How did you-”

“You held out a cross in a desperate attempt to get me from biting you instead of wielding your magic.”

“But all I need is a bit of rest! I swear!”

“Little mage, we both are in enemy territory. We have no time to be on holiday and I cannot wait for you to keep up with me. You need to think on your feet, not what your big book says.” Alucard quickly concluded as they both turned at a fork in the passageways. Miguel couldn’t think of anything to say as he gripped his book closer to him with a bit of frustration. How could he, a small-time mage, argue with a dhampir who literally had hundreds of years of experience when it comes to combat? Yet, there was going to be no hiding place for him in this vast castle if it meant he was a wanted man. He can’t just hide in some room and pray no one would find him. He had to do something!

So, Miguel did the one thing he could do while the two walked, which was do the opposite Alucard asked him to do and open his big book. He already heard the scoff coming from the dhampir as soon as he did, but he chose to ignore it as he sifted through the pages, letting out an ‘aha’ reading through the passages.

“Well, jokes on you because this big fuck-off book has a way for me to regain my magic quickly. There are a few ways, actually. One namely being rest, but another is to drink a potion of mana!” The mage shut the book with a laugh as he turned around and started walking in the complete opposite direction of where the dhampir was going which did cause the man to turn and try to catch up with him.

“And where on earth are you going?”

“To find me a potion! If you remember at the entrance hall, there was that creature that tried to place a seal on me. Sealing magic takes a lot of energy, hell I should know as I had to practice it a couple of times, but that beast had to have a potion to keep itself from running dry. Night creatures have a naturally low mana pool compared to any regular human, sooooooooooo…..”

“You just need to loot its corpse.” Alucard begrudgingly finished Miguel’s sentence as he was now the one who had to follow.

“Exactly! I am one-hundred, no, ten-thousand percent sure that it has it in its back pocket!” He boasted as he was speedwalking ahead, past the parlor they were just in and out into the halls where he ran for his life. Now looking at it, he didn’t realize how destructive his wind magic was. The entire place was destroyed from the wallpaper to upturned hall tables... Pushing down the slight embarrassment, he pressed on, stepping over the fresh corpses of the wanna-be captors. Even though they were monsters, Miguel had to suppress a gag and rising despair seeing so many littered within the entrance hall, but his sympathy was limited. Those things tried to keep him in a cage and seal away his magic after all.

Picking up his robe to avoid getting gore on it, he trudged through the fallen horde until he finally found the cloaked creature. It reeked of magic, blood, and what Miguel could assume was sulfur. He sucked in a breath before setting aside his book to get his hands dirty, sifting through its mangy skin with a disgusted face. He wished he had gloves like Alucard did or at least asked to use them beforehand, but he didn’t want to bother him more than he already did. Now he has to live with the consequences of searching a smelly creature’s halves for a vial or bottle of some kind, but thankfully that torture was put to an end as he forced the being’s hand open. There lay a large vial of cerulean that was unused letting the mage heave a sigh of relief as he took it, uncorked the bottle, and downed it. It was better to treat mana potions like shots or else the aftertaste would have made him gag almost uncontrollably. Potions never were meant to taste good, only bring results, and it did as he felt the sudden surge of power in his veins bringing relief to the growing fatigue he was in.

“Surprised you found it. I was ten thousand percent sure that you wouldn’t have found that bottle.” The dhampir remarked as Miguel got up with book in hand once more.

“Just some simple logic is all it takes to turn the tide in my favor.” He bragged as he went over to the large set of doors and eyed them. “Though I will say, I am surprised you got in with such huge ass doors in the way. I tried pulling on them as best as possible, yet it didn’t open. I can only imagine how heavy they are.”

Alucard threw a deadpan stare at the mage as he came up to the door and pushed it open. Miguel’s smug attitude turned to utter disbelief and aggravation as he ran up to the door and pushed it further with some difficulty. He pulled on a push door. Seeing his realization, the dhampir broke out into a fit of laughter as Miguel just stood there looking at him with a face of betrayal.

“Hey! This was your home before you flew the coup! How was I supposed to know when there were those big handles there? I wasted my magic for nothing!” The mage retorted as he grabbed Alucard by his cloak and started shaking him, but that just made the man laugh even harder.

However, Miguel’s anger was short-lived as his eyes trailed over to the horizon within the night beyond the stone walls, and his blood ran cold. Alucard wasn’t lying. In the far distance, a ginormous wall encircled the castle grounds with a large bridge drawn, easily keeping out any more intruders from entering. The moat looked recent and there truly did seem to be no other way out. They truly were stuck in this castle.

What the hell did Miguel get himself into?

#castlevania #oc #au #fanfic #writing #art #digital art #sketch #clip studio paint #Castlevania: Psalm of Butterflies

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