Author's note: Pachislot III Sypha is the best Sypha.

Sypha's fingers leapt across the organ with elegant precision. The draping sleeves her robe moved in waves as she toiled away at the keyboard. She couldn't remember where she had learned the melody she was playing. The song simply sprung from some ancient place in her mind.

Trevor and Alucard waited as their musically-gifted mage continued her task. With each correct note she played, the door to Dracula's keep rumbled open slightly more. Only the descendant of a witch would be able to break the enchantment.

When the door was almost wide enough for the three vampire hunters pass, Sypha made an unexpected mistake. She realized something was missing from her arcane knowledge, something that eluded her current level of skill. When her finger slipped and played the wrong note, all the organ's pipes retaliated by letting out a bellowing scream. The device practically burst to life as its funnels began stretching and twisting downward.

Overcome with surprise, Sypha found herself trapped in a tightly woven cage formed from the instrument's warped parts. She could hear her two companions to her aid, but even they weren't strong enough to free her. When she tried to force her way out of the trap, a thick green mist burst the pipes and quickly engulfed her. She had already breathed a mouthful of the poison by the time she realized what was happening, and the world soon began fading around her. She could feel the floor opening under her feet just as she slipped into unconsciousness.

Sypha awoke to feeling of a warm palm brushing her cheek. Opening her eyes, she found her wrists were bound to a column of dark energy. She was standing in the center of a large pentagram, which had just recently been drawn on the floor with chalk. Candles placed in a ring provided the only light in the room, revealing she was is one of Castle Dracula's many secret undercrofts.

Then she saw she was surrounded. Witches of every sort formed a second ring around her, and they were all staring directly at her. Wrinkled crones huddled together in whispers. Younger adepts had feline familiars perched on their shoulders. Silent conjurers glanced at her from behind deep black hoods. A team of female necromancers gathered in uniform blood red robes. Beside them were a peculiar sight that held Sypha's attention the longest.

They were a group of young women whose faces glowed with soft, fairly-like features. They each wore short dresses and long cloaks colored in bright pastels and gold trim, much like Sypha's own attire. Some had their hoods pulled up over their heads, while others left their varying shades of blonde and auburn hair uncovered. She had fought this variety of witch several times in her travels with Trevor and Alucard, but this was the first time she had been close enough to one to notice the strange similarity.

Turning her eyes forward, Sypha was greeted with the motherly gaze of single silver-haired witch. She appeared to be older than most of the other women present, but she still maintained a certain amount of beauty in her face. Her robes marked her as the priestess of this congregation, leaving Sypha feeling very perplexed. Why would so many minions of Dracula go through this much trouble to kill a single enemy?

"Welcome home, Sypha."

The priestess spoke in an eerily comforting tone. She withdrew her palm from Sypha's cheek, allowing the captive some time to collect herself. It wasn't long before the Belnades warrior spoke out in defiance.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

The old witch's smile widened. She seemed amused by Sypha's boldness.

"Isn't it obvious, my dear? You've been making a mockery of your gifts since you discovered how to use them. I'm here to bring you in line and make sure you stay where you belong."

Sypha's response came much faster now. She shouted through clenched teeth.

"I'll never help you monsters! I'm a servant of the church!"

Every member of the audience seemed to lightly cackle at this. The head prophetess only shook her head and replied in a pitiful tone.

"You're worse than I thought. Haven't you realized the people you protect would just as quickly tie your pretty little hide to a stake and roast you alive if they didn't think their lives depended on you? Man is intolerant of anything he doesn't understand. That's why we support each other."

She turned in place as she finished speaking, acknowledging the entire convent of witches.

Sypha hesitated slightly. This wasn't the first time she had considered the potential consequences of the path she had chosen, but she knew it was the right thing to do. She had to stay strong in the face of criticism.

"That's... not true! Not everyone is like that!"

The priestess shook her head again and sighed. Sypha was surprised her reaction wasn't more hostile.

"I expected you to say as such. Belnades girls have always been the stubborn sort."

Her eyes shifted to the fair-skinned group of witches Sypha had been studying only moments earlier.

"Even your closest kin think you've been a nuisance."

She then curiously turned her attention back to Sypha. As she gazed deeply into her prisoner's eyes, her words alluded toward events in the vague past.

"Who would have imagined a single ailorunmas who thought she was holier than the goddess herself could cause so much trouble?"

She brought herself back to the present by shaking her head. Her more cheerful manner returned when she spoke again.

"No matter. The traitor and her descendants have had their fun for the past few hundred years, and this ceremony will ensure that you remember your true heritage."

She nodded toward the onlookers, her voice becoming ominously low.

"Bring the wine."

In response, a pair witches stepped out of their circle as serving girls. They bore a silver plate in their hands, atop of which sat a round object covered in a sheet of black silk. When they reached the priestess, she pulled the cover away.

Sypha gasped when she saw the chalice. Made of some otherworldly material, it was sculpted in the shape of a woman's rotting head. It stared directly toward Sypha with black beady eyes. Crooked brown teeth formed a perpetual sneer. Strips of fabric dangled from the top it to represent a few threads of dark hair.

And in the base of its open mouth was a dark, frothing substance that Sypha couldn't look at for more than a second before turning away in disgust. The concoction gave off a noxious vapor that sickened her all the same.

The lead witch seemed more confident as she reached for the chalice.

"Don't be afraid, little one. This is the blood of Hecate. A bit of it has flowed through your veins since you were born. It's what gives all witches their powers and makes us part of the same sisterhood.

She gently lifted the chalice with her fingertips, holding its sculpted face outward.

"However, you're nothing but an apprentice until you drink from Hecate and become her pure-blooded daughter. You'll gain all of her knowledge in the black arts in exchange for becoming a tool of her will. It's not the most... comfortable experience, but it's a pain we all share."

Raising the vessel's mouth to Sypha's, she spoke in the kindest of voices.

"It's time to claim your birthright."

She tilted the grotesque cup to no avail. When some of the wine began to spill out, Sypha stubbornly sealed her lips and twisted her head in the opposite direction. The few drops that managed to touch her closed mouth caused her to break out in a fit of coughing.

A look of impatience was growing on the priestess's face. Removing one hand from the chalice, she reached forward and pressed her index finger to Sypha's cleavage.

"Enough with these delays, child. You've waited far too long for your binding ritual as it is. Most of your sisters were ordained the moment they were flowered."

Once she regained her breath, Sypha sharply pulled against her restraints. She scowled in contempt as she shouted.

"I'll have no part in this!"

The presiding witch gave a disbelieving sigh before she answered. A hint of regret lingered in her voice.

"You're just like she was. It's a shame she didn't prepare any of her offspring for the day her branch on the family tree would have to return to its roots."

With a small gesture from their leader, more of the witches stepped out the audience and approached Sypha from behind and both sides. A thumb and index finger playfully pinched her nose so she would have to open her mouth for air. Another hand locked around her jaw to prevent it from closing. When the priestess tilted the goblet the second time, Sypha choked in pain as its lips aligned with hers in a foul-tasting kiss. A final set of fingertips delicately massaged her throat, coercing her muscles until she surrendered to her fate and swallowed.

Sypha was freed from her bonds in an instant. The glowing pillar disappeared from behind her as all of the witches returned to a single ring. Her strength failed her, causing her to collapse across the pentagram on the ground. The stone floor was chilling against her bare legs.

She began twisting from side to side and crying out in pain as the blood took hold of her. She raised her hands to her temples when her head started throbbing. Her body's elemental powers were raging out of control when she heard what sounded like the witches forming a chorus around her and chanting in unison. She could feel fire boiling her blood just as quickly as ice froze it and lightning violently surged through it. Tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision and making it impossible to distinguish the flames in the candles from the figures looming around her.

At the height of her agonizing trance, her mind's eye was bombarded with visions that reached back as far as the dawn of existence. She watch witches practicing their art in earthen shrines across the world, showing her all of their deepest secrets. She saw them praise their mysterious goddess and offer sacrifices to the deity's name. They communicated with nature and lived for the night. They mated with gods and demons to bear the children who would rule the world.

And then came the fires. Witches were incinerated in droves, bringing nothing but entertainment to ordinary mortals and despair to Sypha's magic-wielding peers. Survivors were forced into hiding, finding safe haven only with those who had their own reasons to hate humanity. With each new execution, however, the fires grew closer and closer. Then she envisioned she was the one being burnt at the stake.

Just when she thought she was going to be consumed by the hatred of mankind, all of it stopped. She couldn't hear the witches chanting as she spasmed on the ground in the center of their black mass. She couldn't hear the townspeople laughing as flames licked her flesh. All her eyes could see was darkness. The only thing that told her she was still alive was the sensation of a pair of arms closing around her and taking away her pain. When she looked up, she saw a beautiful sorceress wearing a robe of panther skin and raven feathers. For a brief moment, she felt like a newborn babe resting in the arms of her mother.

In the center of the pentagram, Sypha's convulsions came to a peaceful end. She gradually climbed onto all fours as her expression changed to a deranged grin. A short burst of soft, sweet laughter escaped her throat.

Sypha couldn't be certain if she returned to her feet on her own will or with the help of some of her fellow mages. In either case, she soon stood face to face with the witch priestess from before, who was now inspecting her from head to toe.

Sypha made no complaint as the priestess reached out to straighten her cloak, brush the dust from her sleeves, and wipe a tiny stream of wine from the corner of her mouth. Her long golden hair had become somewhat disheveled in her suffering, so the older witch spent some extra time petting her scalp and brushing her braided locks over her shoulders. When she was finished, the priestess offered a satisfied glance and spoke.

"Are you well, dear?"

Sypha closed her eyes and bowed her head to her superior. Her answer came in a polite and collected tone.

"Yes, godmother."

After giving Sypha a rewarding smile, the presiding witch turned toward her audience to announce the good news.

"The Belnades bloodline has finally accepted Hecate's embrace. Our family is whole again!"

The entire cult erupted with cheers and applause. In midst of the noise, she turned back toward the sisterhood's newest member.

"Do you see, Sypha? We're all happy for you. We would never hold you accountable for the sins of your foremothers."

Sypha answered with a grateful look in her eyes.

"Thank you for letting me see Hecate."

The prophetess reached forward and slowly lifted Sypha's hood over her brow. She then leaned forward to plant a loving kiss on top of the younger mage's shrouded head.

"You're a proper witch now. Go, help the rest of your family protect their home and spread the powers of darkness."

Sypha recalled the final moments before her conversion. It didn't take long for her to deduce her first order of business.

"Where are the intruders?"

The priestess paused to stroke her chin before answering.

"Hmm, yes. The filthy Belmont and the Overseer's boy. I almost forgot about them. They're still inside the castle walls, looking for you."

Sypha voice lowered to a worried tone. The prospect of a Belmont storming the castle carried ill tidings for her kind.

"I better let them find me before they do any more harm."

Her eyes shifted to the side as she begin plotting. When she turned her attention back to her matriarch, a certain optimism grew in her words.

"Mistress, may I... take this assignment alone? Something could happen to the prince if we act too aggressively, and if we get on Dracula's bad side..."

The priestess replied with a knowing grin. She was always pleased to see her younger associates coming up with clever strategies. She knew where Sypha's thoughts were heading, and that made it all the more promising.

"I see. You may carry this responsibility by yourself if you wish, but remember you'll never be truly alone. All of your fellow witches will glad to help you if you summon them."

Sypha bowed her head again in gratitude.

"I'll make you proud, mistress."

Trevor and Alucard were once again at the entrance to Dracula's keep. They were lucky enough to find Sypha shortly they had been separated from her, and there was much relief when she told them she only had to dispatch a handful of undead before finding her way out of the depths of the castle.

The seal was broken and the door was fully open. Trevor lifted the Vampire Killer from his belt as Alucard prepared his sword and shield for battle. Sypha levitated in the air several meters in front of them, surrounded by a circle of white light. All three were prepared for attack from the front, or so it seemed.

Under her light blue hood, Sypha's idle expression slowly changed to a mischievous grin.

The unthinkable happened. The door to the castle keep abruptly slammed shut and its seal reappeared in full force. Before Trevor and Alucard had a chance to express their surprise, Sypha turned in midair and pointed toward them. The light surrounding her body pulsated with mystical energy as a wall of flame burst from the floor, forcing the Trevor and Alucard to dodge in opposite directions. As this happened, ghouls of every size and species began spilling through the remaining doorways of the auditorium. The attack was coming from the rear rather than the front.

Alucard could barely raise his shield to defend himself as he was surrounded by the ambush. For a moment, it looked as if he could reverse the situation and actually cut his way out of the swarm. This brief flame of hope was snuffed out when a dagger-sized shard of ice pierced the shoulder of his sword arm.

With a cry of pain, Alucard turned to see Sypha herself was his attacker. She was closing in on him, summoning arrows of ice and firing by the dozen. He escaped most of the onslaught, but still became immobilized when he felt a freezing knife impale his ankle. Reduced to a stationary target, he could only watch as Sypha glanced toward him with demonic intent, waved her staff through the air, and conjured a single icicle the size of a great sword. He heard it scream through the air and felt it stab him through the stomach before everything turned to cold blackness.

"Go on. You need to drink if you're ever going to get better."

Alucard was drifting somewhere between life and death, but he was certain he heard it. A soft, soothing voice had come to pull him out of his misery. Every bone in his body ached, but all he needed to do was focus on the voice to overcome the pain.

Confirming his suspicions, he felt a curtain of braided hair brushing under his nose. It was covered with a weak scent of strawberries. Just underneath it, he could smell... warm blood. He couldn't have been more than an inch away from the jugular.

Something told him he shouldn't do it. Something tried to tell him he was better than this. The longer he strained his mind trying figure out what that something was, however, the more he realized he couldn't find a reason not to. These thoughts compounded with his starving body and made the dilemma almost unbearable. His fangs were already growing with hunger before he chose one or the other.

Before he knew it, something else made the decision for him. He felt his fangs sink into flesh on their own volition. He heard a maiden's voice first quietly gasp in pain, then gently purr in comfort. When he began lapping away at the nectar, he realized it was the most delicious he had ever tasted.

"Ahh, not so quickly. You could end up turning me if you're not careful."

His broken psyche couldn't completely comprehend her words, but he still managed to follow the request. The blood entered his mouth in smaller morsels, but he appreciated the meal all the same.

A pair of slender arms warped around him and eagerly traced the contours of his back. He could feel his pain slowly fading, along with whatever had been bothering his thoughts seconds earlier.

She spoke one last time when he was done.

"That's better. Now, get some more rest."

He knew he was asleep when he stopped hearing her voice.

Alucard awoke with a start. When he finally regained his eyesight, he saw he was in a bedroom that seemed distantly familiar, like a place from a childhood memory.

He grunted in discomfort as he slowly propped himself on his elbows. The pain was nowhere near as unbearable as he last remembered, but the was no denying it still lingered across his body. When he noticed his coat was missing and bandages neatly dressed his wounds in its place, he knew he still far from fully healed.

Sypha was sitting on the edge of his bed. Her hood kept part of her face hidden as she contently hummed to herself and went about soaking a small cloth in a basin of water on Alucard's nightstand. When she turned toward the weakened dhampir and saw the look of shock on his face, she offered a comforting smile and pressed the folded cloth against his forehead.

"Relax, Alucard. You're safe with me."

It was all still a blur. Alucard had to struggle to reminder how he wound up here. For some reason, he found only emptiness in his mind where he knew large portions of his memory had existed previously. He could barely recall a time he was anything more than his father's son.

Finally, he was able to put some of the hazy pieces together. The raid on his father's castle. The door. Sypha's betrayal.

He shifted away from his caretaker as a bewildered look appeared on his face. His words were cold, subdued anger.

"You. You did this to me."

Sypha's bright expression turned to a frown. She placed the cloth back in the basin before timidly folding her hands in her lap. Regret overcame her cheerful tone as she hung her head.

"I'm sorry, Alucard. I had to end this madness of yours before you convinced yourself humans really do deserve your help. You've been thinking like one of them for too long."

She lifted her eyes to his as some of her previous charm returned.

"I brought you this close to death only because I knew I would be able to heal you. Your vampire half allows you to recover much faster than an ordinary man, but you need fresh blood to use those powers."

She casually brushed her hand over one of the twin ribbons in her hair. For an instant, the blonde curtain parted and Alucard saw the two puncture marks that branded the left side of her throat. The wounds were dry and free of bruises, making them at least a few days old.

That quick glimpse was all it took to remind Alucard of the taste filling his mouth, sparking a craving that nearly overtook him on the spot. Sypha was still speaking as he fought to regain his composure.

"You were delirious when you were awake, but all I had to do was offer you my neck. Your instincts took over from there."

She tilted her head thoughtfully before she continued.

"When the fever really took hold, you were rambling about some woman in your dreams. 'Lisa,' was it?"

Alucard massaged his temple as he tried to recognize the name. The simple act of shifting through his foggy memories exhausted him, and he could feel himself start to lose semblance of even his current surroundings. He gazed toward Sypha with a half-puzzled and half-concerned look on his face.

"I... can't remember..."

A relieved smile appeared on her face.

"Don't worry yourself over it. I've made sure you'll never remember."

She reached forward to brush away some of the platinum locks that were stuck to Alucard's forehead, giving herself a better view of his eyes.

"I've been healing your mind along with your body. It's just a little spell that helps you forget whatever's torturing you, and the fact you've been feeding off me makes it especially effective. Witch's blood can be powerful medicine if used in the right quantities."

Something about her methods seemed deleterious to Alucard. Without know what exactly she had taken away, however, it was hard to say why. He remained silent as Sypha continued her explanation.

"Each time you give in to your lusts, you lose a little bit more of that troublesome human conscience of yours. You've been making great progress so far, but I may have to use some of my more... intimate abilities to completely restore your true self."

Alucard had heard enough. He wasn't certain of how or why this all started, but he still had enough sense to know exactly where it was heading.

"Your witchcraft is making me forget who I am! You're trying to turn me into a monster!"

Sypha replied in an encouraging tone, never wavering in her optimism.

"I'm just helping you become the person you were always meant to be."

As strange as it felt, Alucard couldn't devise an argument against her. Who was he supposed to be before all of this? He could barely form the name of the one person who might know.

"Trevor..."

Sypha sounded as proud as ever when she followed his train of thought.

"He escaped, but he'll be licking his own wounds for a while. You'll get your chance to finish him off soon enough. I wasn't strong enough to eliminate him myself, but I'm sure he'll be no match for the two of us once you've gained your full strength."

Alucard could only sit in baffled silence for a few seconds. Nothing was making sense, even with what little he could remember. He finally gathered enough of his failing wits to press the underlying issue.

"Sypha, why are you acting like this?"

Sypha remained as collected as ever. She explained her motives as if they were a simple matter of fact.

"For Lord Dracula's favor, of course. He's bound to appreciate a simple handmaid sacrificing her own life's blood to bring you back into the family. Perhaps he'll even find me suitable to be your wi-..."

A faint blush grew on her cheeks as she smiled shyly.

"Nevermind. I'm getting ahead of myself."

Alucard shook his head with sigh of disbelief. He could feel some carnal part of himself waiting to leap at the opportunity, but... no. The other part of him, the one that quickly fading from his mind, insisted he make a different choice. He was almost certain it's what had to be done.

"Listen to what you're saying, Sypha. This isn't right. We need to find Trevor and stop this."

What Sypha said next was perplexing enough to stop Alucard's thoughts in their tracks.

"Don't be so naive, Alucard. You have a responsibility to stand by your father's side, just as I must follow the ways of my mother."

Searching his mind for some meaning to her words predictably proved to be a lost cause. The effort left Alucard even more disoriented.

"What are you talking about...?"

Sypha slowly shook her head to dispel his worries.

"It's too complicated for you to understand right now. You just need to focus on getting stronger."

After a short pause in thought, she repositioned herself on the edge of the bed to be closer to Alucard. She lowered her hood before gazing toward him intently.

"Speaking of which, it's almost time for your meal."

Understanding what was to come and the disastrous effect it would have, a sense of dread suddenly filled Alucard. He doubted he would be able to hold off his impulses after the amount of damage that had already been done.

"Sypha, don't..."

She quietly hushed his objections as she brushed her hair over her left shoulder. She then leaned against him and tilted her head to grant him access to the same reservoir he had used countless times. She whispered in a voice of submission.

"Please drink, my lord."

Alucard was losing to his vampiric side at a catastrophic rate. It took so much effort to just keep his bloodlust at bay that every other part of him became paralyzed. His eyes became fixated on those tiny wounds, and closing his eyelids only pushed him further by reminding him of when he fed on Sypha in his blindness.

He didn't even have the willpower to truly hate her, much less harm her. She had already guaranteed that much when she was enchanting his senseless, battle-torn self. And if he couldn't hate her, could he at least try to... love her?

Sypha spoke again to ease his anxiety. Her voice sounded slightly darker, and more sensual.

"Drink."

It was more than enough to shatter the last of Alucard's resistance. Before he could fully comprehend what was happening, his fangs were gently sinking into their preferred spot and a familiar taste filled his mouth.

He closed his eyes and allowed himself to drink, being cautious to only draw a safe amount.

Maybe father was right about humans.

Some time later, Sypha returned to the castle undercroft to meet with her priestess. Standing face-to-face in the otherwise empty chamber, the older witch greeted her with subtle anticipation.

"So, what do you have to show me?"

Sypha quietly lowered her traveling hood and turned her head, bringing the two bite marks that dotted her neck into full view. The priestess leaned forward, squinting her eyes and tracing the tiny marks with her middle and index fingers the same way an elderly woman would inspect her granddaughter's embroidery. Once she saw the wounds were authentic, she murmured to herself and gave a satisfied nod.

"Very good. I was doubting you would actually go through with it since aliorumnas don't usually allow themselves to gain a witch's teat. They always complain about how it ruins their 'beautiful skin' and how sharing their blood with demon spawn is below their class."

She took Sypha gently by the chin and guided the girl to face forward. A warm smile crossed the priestess's lips.

"But I can see you're of the more courteous variety. Your sacrifice has made our home a much safer place."

Sypha answered while modestly bowing her head.

"Thank you, godmother."

The priestess took a few more moments to glance over Sypha. After noticing a slight fog in her eyes and something lacking in her stature, she spoke in a concerned tone.

"You look a bit pale."

Sypha answered with a telling nod.

"He just fed. I'll feel better in a few hours."

"Be careful with that. You won't have any fresh blood to give him if you become an undead yourself."

"I've taken all the necessary precautions. Once he's fully awakened, I'll only let him drink before every battle. He'll be safer with some of my magic in his veins, and raising his bloodlust at the right time should give him an advantage over the humans."

The priestess nodded in morbid agreement before moving to her next concern.

"How long have you been enchanting him?"

"A little over a fortnight."

The older witch nearly snickered at the response.

"The human half of his mind must be mush by now. I'll bet you're the only thing he can think of."

A familiar blush appeared on Sypha's face before she brought herself to answer.

"He's certainly acting that way. He even said he wants to kill the Belmont himself so he doesn't have to worry about me getting hurt."

The priestess followed Sypha's words with a series of nods. After a brief pause, she sighed and gave her younger associate another concerned look.

"You do realize taking an immortal for a husband will severely limit your options in the future, don't you?"

An innocent smile appeared on Sypha's face.

"I don't really mind in this case."

The witch matron matched Sypha's expression before she replied. She could see Sypha was in love, or at least as close to love as servants of darkness were capable of.

"Then I couldn't be more happy for you."

She used both hands to lift Sypha's hood back into place. Her eyes briefly ducked to the side in thought before her grin returned.

"I almost regret what we're doing to the boy, but I suppose he won't have too much to complain about. At least his wife will be easy on the eyes, and his bloodline will be of a good breed."

Sypha gazed toward her superior with a curious look growing on her face.

"Do you really think Dracula will let us marry into his house?"

The priestess answered with an encouraging nod.

"You've all but won the war for him. He has no reason to refuse."