Lady Armster: Wow, it's been way too long since I updated this story. I sincerely apologize for seemingly abandoning this work. I hadn't forgotten about it but real life got in the way, as usual. Fortunately, I still found some time to work on it when I wasn't busy with school and my job. I would like to thank everyone who has followed this story and to thank readers who gave me feedback between my last update and now. I love hearing that people are still reading it and the feedback certainly encouraged me to work on finishing it. I know this story is epically long but this new chapter is the second last chapter. I have the last chapter 3/4 finished and I plan to have it completed by the end of next month. For now, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Reviews are always appreciated. :)
Note: this chapter takes place right AFTER Walter is defeated by Leon and Leon escapes the collapsing castle. I wanted my story to follow Lament of Innocence's plotline as much as possible so the cutscene featured at the end of LoI (Leon fighting Walter, Mathias' speech, Leon fighting death, etc.) are cannon for this story as well. This chapter begins right when the cutscene showing Leon walking away from the ruins of Eternal Night ends. I chose to begin it at that point because anyone who has played LoI already knows Walter's fate. If you forget what happens at the end of LoI, there are lots of videos on YouTube that show the ending.
Chapter: XXXV
Rays of light filtered through the dense trees, covering the ground in a sea of gold. The lonely silence was broken by birdsong in welcome of the night's defeat. A thick cloud of dust hung in the air, creating a strange ghostly shroud across the sky. As if awakened from a long slumber, the forest acquired a startling beauty and serenity. The sun's brilliant sphere rose above the horizon like a phoenix.
Leon's cerulean eyes stared ahead, transfixed on the worn path before him. The future, once so clear, suddenly seemed uncertain and frightening. A haggard sigh escaped his lips. He wiped his forehead with the back of his gloved hand, trying to remove the dirt, blood, and perspiration caked upon his face. The knight's fair skin, once glowing with the vibrancy of youth, was uncharacteristically pale. His face wore an expressionless mask.
Hollowness haunted his gaze, professing the grief consuming his heart. Sara and Mathias were lost to him. Somehow, deep within himself, he wondered if he had failed them both. Perhaps, if he had been a better friend to Mathias, and not returned to the crusades – if he had arrived at Eternal Night sooner – he might have been able to save them. Deep seeded anger filled his being when he thought about his former comrade in arms, adviser, and dearest friend. Mathias had left him at the mercy of death. Yet, the tactician underestimated the crusader's determination. He had defeated death, and could only anticipate that the specter would deliver his message to its master. He would search to the ends of the earth until he found Mathias. A part of him despised Mathias for his crimes; yet another part of him understood the tactician's grief. Mathis had made certain he would understand what it felt like to lose that which he loved most.
Leon ruminated on Mathias' persuasive offer. Had Mathias given the opportunity of eternal life, most would have accepted. However, the knight remembered Sara's dying wish, as well as the forgotten vampire imprisoned in the waterways. He would never give in to hatred as Mathias did. The creature who tried to entice him with promises of revenge and power was not the same man he knew. Revenge and power would not bring Sara and Elisabetha back.
Sara's image still resonated through his mind, and the memory of her death tortured him. Not even Walter's defeat could bring him peace; all he knew and loved was gone. He had given up everything to save her, only to find himself powerless. He remembered looking into her eyes, feeling her pain, as her life slipped away in his arms. That bitter, dark night, he had held her until her body grew cold, and he affirmed to himself that she was no more. He had tried to do everything he could to honor her memory. He prayed to God - a silent God – for her soul to find his one day. Mathias had tried to test his faith, and nearly succeeded in destroying it. Sara's love for him was eternal, and he would not dishonor her sacrifice. His hand lightly brushed across the whip cinched at his waist belt, and he found some comfort feeling her soul's presence near.
Leon blinked in the daylight, as if its presence was somehow more unnatural than night. He staggered down the pathway, barely conscious of his own actions. Weary and battle-worn, the knight nursed his wounded shoulder from his skirmish with the vampire in the waterways. The wound throbbed and began bleeding again. Thin red lines trickled across his silver gauntlet, staining its metallic surface crimson. Numb to the pain, he continued onward, not caring about his body's protests.
When he finally arrived before the old man's cottage, Rinaldo was standing outside waiting for him. For the first time since they met, a small smile creased the corner's of Rinaldo's lips. The severity in the old man's countenance relented the moment he saw the knight approaching. Leon was surprised how different Rinaldo appeared during the daytime, when he could see him in natural sunlight, rather than the soft glow of candlelight. Rinaldo seemed more fragile and vulnerable; every feature of the man's rough face, calloused hands, and tanned skin was visible. Though he would never speak of it, he could sense weariness in Rinaldo – years spent in darkness, trying to avenge the death of his family had taken its toll. A new hope brimmed in the old man's eyes for the first time in decades.
Rinaldo stepped forward, ready to welcome the knight's return with open arms. He hesitated when Leon hung his head, his gray eyes surveying the knight in concern. "Leon, you did well to come back. I owe you a great debt."
"You owe me nothing of the kind," Leon replied, trying to hide the fact that Walter's death had not brought him the peace he so longed for. "I am grateful for all you have done to help me. Eternal night will never again return to this forest."
"What of the Ebony Stone? Something so powerful must not fall under a vampire's control again."
Leon hesitated, feeling a tightness in his throat. "I…was unable to recover it."
"What do you mean?" Rinaldo's eyes widened. "Upon Walter's death, it should have relinquished its power to you. Surely, you must be mistaken-"
"The Ebony Stone…and its master's soul…were stolen." Leon did not know any other way to tell the old man except as plainly as possible. The moment he spoke, he regretted his bluntness.
Rinaldo became almost statue-like. His countenance abruptly regained its former severity. "What do you mean by stolen?"
"Mathias was responsible for Sara's kidnapping. In exchange for her life and my own, Walter granted him eternity…as a vampire. However, Mathias betrayed Walter and took his soul and his power - including the Ebony Stone."
"How could that be possible?" A gasp fled the old man's lips, and he pressed a hand to his brow, shaking his head in disbelief. "You mean to tell me that Lord Cronqvist was involved and gave up his humanity willingly? That still does not explain how he could have taken Walter's soul! There is only one object in the world capable of trapping a vampire's very soul-"
Rinaldo fell silent. Leon sighed, lowering his head, for he felt no need to explain further. After a long pause, the old man's hands clenched into fists. Bitterness seeped into Rinaldo's voice when he spoke, though the empathy in his gaze contradicted it. "Lord Cronqvist will one day come to regret his decision. I am sorry, Leon…"
Leon shook his head; his sapphire colored eyes gleamed with renewed intensity. "Despite the immensity of Mathias' powers, I will not let him destroy more lives. I promised Sara no one else will suffer her fate and I will not fail her."
"Leon, you must not dedicate your life to revenge-"
"Sara sacrificed her life to save others! I cannot stay here knowing Mathias still dwells in the shadows."
"Stubborn as always…" Rinaldo muttered, suppressing a half-amused smile. As if expecting the knight had already made his decision, he ushered him inside the cottage. "You are exhausted and hungry. Let's not debate this now. Come and rest – you will need your strength if wish to recover quickly. I see you are wounded, as well."
Leon wanted to object but his body was too tired to keep going. His muscles were sore and he could barely stay awake. With a reluctant nod, he followed the old man inside the modest cottage. Every step was growing more and more difficult; he could not continue without resting at least one day. His supplies were low and he would have to buy more food and potions before departing. With heavy steps, he walked toward the table beside the empty fireplace and collapsed into a chair. Needles of pain shot up and down his arm, making him wince.
In a tired voice, he acknowledged the old man's kindness. "Thank you, Rinaldo. I will only stay until tomorrow morning. I do not wish to burden you further-"
"Nonsense, Leon."
Rinaldo hurried behind the wooden store counter and began rummaging through the supplies on the shelf. He withdrew a small glass bottle containing a dark blue liquid and examined it a moment. Then, with a satisfied look, he approached the table and sat down across the knight, uncorking the bottle.
"Let me see your injury. My potion will ease the pain. It will take a few days for your wound to heal, but this will make your recovery faster. I wish you would not place yourself at needless risk; you are young and still have your whole life ahead of you."
A heavy sigh escaped Rinaldo's lips. His gray eyes focused intently upon the knight's sullen expression as he continued.
"I feel some obligation to tell you that I sometimes regret my decision to live in this forest. I realized, over time, I lived as Walter did – alone, surrounded by darkness, craving the blood of the one who wronged me. My desire to confront the lord of Eternal Night became an obsession. I often wonder if my choice to live here is what my family would have wanted. Even now, in the wake of Walter's defeat, I'm not sure if I made the the right choice."
At first, Leon could think of no response. He did not want to offend the old man by dismissing him too quickly. When he felt the cool, soothing sensation of the potion on his shoulder, he breathed a sigh of relief. The throbbing pain dulled somewhat, and the bleeding ceased. Leon gave the old man a small, grateful smile.
"It feels much better now." The knight replied. "I still have a bit of gold left. I will need to purchase more potions from you before I leave, with your permission?"
"There's no need," Rinaldo withdrew a small, damp cloth and began to dab the wound clean. As the blood slowly disappeared, his injury gave the illusion of being less severe. "I will provide you with the rest of my stock. It is the least I can do in return. However, I must ask you again to reconsider your decision to hunt vampires. Would Sara truly want you to live that kind of life? What of your family? Surely, you will return home?"
"I cannot," Leon whispered, feeling a tightness return to his throat. When Rinaldo gave him a skeptical look, he continued reluctantly. "The Belmont name exists through I, alone. When I came to Eternal Night to rescue Sara, I gave up everything-"
"I thought you only left the company?"
"I had no choice except to relinquish my lands, title, and assets as well. My only possessions are what I am carrying with me."
"I see." Rinaldo's expression was enigmatic, his silver brow furrowing for a moment, before he added. "Where will you go?"
Leon's hand slipped to the whip and squeezed it tightly, his eyes hardening, and he replied without hesitation. "Wherever Mathias goes, I shall follow - until we meet again."
The old man slowly shook his head. With a resigned sigh, he finished cleaning the wound and began bandaging it with a strip of cloth. His hands worked slowly, as if in an effort to delay the knight long enough to persuade him otherwise. "I still can't believe Lord Cronqvist was involved in this. It shames me to know I studied alchemy with him; I even taught him a few things over the years…all for naught. I see, now, where his talents have led him. If you decide to pursue this, I pray you do not doom yourself as well."
Leon did not mention that Mathias had offered him eternity, and he had refused. Nor did he even breathe a whisper about the loneliness he felt thereafter. He did not wish to think about anything except what lay before him. Yet, a growing uneasiness inside him would not let him dissever himself from the past completely. As the old man wrapped the bandages around his arm, briefly, he thought on the one responsible for his injury. A gleaming pale face emerged from the shadows of his mind; ashen hair; and eyes of such a clear, light blue that they could have pierced the very fibers of his soul. Leon gasped, prompting Rinaldo to pause, as low, solemn words fled his lips.
"I…do not have a clear conscience. Somehow, I feel I have no right to leave this forest. The forest binds me here; the trees are iron bars trapping me within a prison of memories."
"What do you mean?" Rinaldo's silvery eyes narrowed.
A frown creased the corners of the knight's smooth lips. With a heavy sigh, he lowered his head. Locks of sun-kissed hair fell lightly around his face in thick, glossy layers. His face lost some of its former color. "I met someone, deep within the cold, dark walls of the castle. He was very strange; I thought he suffered from some illness, a prisoner of Walter's left to die within the waterways. I do not know exactly how to describe him; he was a slight, pale, fragile creature; yet if I had not searched the room in which I found him, I would have mistaken him as nothing more than a shadow."
Rinaldo froze, as if the knight's words had the power to transform him into a statue. In a grave, quiet voice, he replied. "This…person you met, can you describe him further?"
"I have never seen anyone quite like this person. His hair was as pallid as snow; no doubt, he was born with some sort of condition. Lurking within his gaze was a kind of madness nurtured by the injustices of neglect and sorrow; scarcely could I look at him without feeling overwhelmed by pity. I did not expect the sight of that wretched creature to invoke such anger and sorrow toward the demon, Walter, who condemned him there."
At first, the old man simply nodded silently. Leon could almost feel Rinaldo's hands tremble for a moment. Then, as if to collect himself, the alchemist paused once again. Leon detected a hint of regret in the old man's voice.
"What became of him?"
"I…" Leon started, but his voice failed him. He forced himself to look up at Rinaldo's face. "I…was too late."
"Too late?"
"His…affliction consumed him. I cannot imagine the torture and degradation he endured in that lonely cell before chance fated us to meet. There was nothing left of him…nothing…" His words drifted into silence. After withdrawing a breath, he whispered. "I…killed him."
"You had no choice-"
"There are always choices! Perhaps, if I could have made him see reason, he would have helped me destroy Walter. He mentioned Sara's name. What I would give to know the circumstances of their meeting."
"Perhaps, it was he who bit Sara, and not Walter? Walter always enjoyed changing his 'game' on a whim." Rinaldo suggested, giving the young man a cautious look.
The knight shook his head. His voice acquired a firmness he was not accustomed to using when addressing a friend. Indeed, Rinaldo was the only friend he had left – his former life and those he knew refused to see him when he announced his decision to relinquish his title. No one had approved of his decision; marriage was nothing except a means of gaining greater wealth and influence. Those whom he once called 'friends' rebuked him as a foolish idealist; a reckless ingrate, who cared nothing for his family's reputation. His wish to relinquish everything for a merchant's daughter stunned even his family's most loyal allies. People questioned his honor; several dukes were offended when he refused their offers of betrothal to their daughters, women of 'higher' breeding and financial prestige. He would rather lose everything and die than live knowing he abandoned the only person he loved more than life itself.
He knew Sara would not lose hope, just as he knew the unfortunate nobleman, whom he encountered all too briefly in the waterways, was innocent of the crime Rinaldo alleged. There was no proof either way, yet an indescribable feeling convinced him. The vampire killer whip reacted with anger in Walter's presence; Sara's soul professed the vampire lord's guilt.
"You're wrong." Leon replied. "Walter enjoyed my grief far too much. If there was a chance I could discover it was not he who tainted her, he would not have had the worthy battle he so desired. He wanted me to expend the last of my strength trying to defeat him, for it would have made his victory even more rewarding."
"Of course, he did not anticipate that he would lose."
"Or death's betrayal."
"It seems centuries of power made him too easily satisfied; too eager to test the limits of his capabilities. However, there is…something I must tell you before you depart. I may have been too quick to judge."
Upon finishing his work, Rinaldo set the empty potion bottle on the table. Streams of sunlight poured into the tiny cabin through its dusty windowpanes. The old man blinked in the light, though sadness wore away his initial happiness. During the daytime, Leon found Rinaldo's cottage strangely unfamiliar. He could see the aging wooden walls, the light film of dust covering the store counter, and numerous vials, herbs, animal skulls, and decanters stored on old, rickety shelves. The cottage looked as tired as its owner.
Leon flexed his arm, and sighed with relief when his wound no longer ached. His body tensed. "What is it?" He asked.
Rinaldo hesitated. His voice, once firm and confident, suddenly wavered. "That hapless creature you mentioned…did he tell you his name?"
The knight never forgot the vampire's eerily calm introduction, or the sight of his crimson irises flashing in the darkness. Slowly, the shadows gave way to the creature's will, like servants to a prince. He remembered the bright, greenish glow surrounding five massive, deadly blades. The vampire had controlled such weapons with startling ease; his very thoughts could fling them across the room in hardly the blink of an eye.
With a heavy sigh, the knight confirmed what memory would not let him forget. "His name was Joachim Armster. I heard it from his own admission."
"So, it was he, after all." For a moment, the severity in Rinaldo's countenance relented. A look, torn between condemnation and regret flickered across his face. "Forgive me for not speaking of this earlier. After hearing your account, he seems as wicked as I suspected. And yet…"
"Please continue." Leon felt his breath hitch. Without realizing it, his body tensed. Ever since he escaped the castle, he found it difficult to relax. Always, his mind wandered to what he was forced to leave behind – Sara, Mathias, Joachim, Walter – all of them had played an instrumental role in his destiny, and suddenly, seemed so distant.
The old man was on the verge of withholding the information. Rinaldo rose from his seat and looked away, his gray eyes fixated upon the floor. With a sigh, the alchemist finally relented. "I suppose it does not matter anymore. What I am about to explain happened before your arrival. It was a dark and particularly cold winter's night when I heard someone approaching up the path. Many men have come and perished playing Walter's game, and I suspected yet another poor soul had wandered here in search of the castle. However, the last thing I expected to see was a vampire waiting outside my cottage. I was about to sortie with the demon, until his composure shattered, and he pleaded for my assistance. I would have demanded his departure then and there, had the desperation in his voice not aroused some form of empathy within me."
"What did he want from you?" Leon asked. His bright blue eyes widened. "If he was the same person I encountered in the waterways – it was before his imprisonment."
"I believe you are right. The creature's request truly astounded me. He claimed to need food for a certain young lady whom Walter forced him to hold captive. Never have I seen a vampire fearful for a human's life. I believe…he may have tried to protect her from the cruelty of his lord. He did not tell me the maiden's name; only that she was a merchant's daughter. Shortly thereafter, you came to this forest, and I never saw him again. I could only imagine what became of him. I regret…what you have told me confirms my fears."
Leon fell silent. Pain resonated across his face, as if the old man's words plunged daggers into his heart. He struggled to control himself and covered his face with his hands. "I understand…how could I have-"
"He gave you no other option!" The old man interjected fiercely. "If you intend to hunt vampires, you cannot pity them. Empathy will only make destroying them more difficult. Though you need not be heartless, you must be resolute. For all we know, he may have tried to usurp Walter from his throne and tainted Sara to enslave her to his will."
"If that was so, why would he beg you to help him protect her life? Walter would not have received such great pleasure from my discovery that Sara was already bitten if he was not responsible for the deed."
"Perhaps, that is true." Rinaldo mused, at last consenting to the plausibility of knight's arguments. "But I would not call that creature kind. He destroyed the lives of many innocents. Before his apparent fall from freedom, he and Walter hunted together. You cannot imagine the destruction they wrought upon those who had never wronged them. Forgive my callousness Leon, but if Walter cast him into the depths, perhaps he thought it a necessary cause. Though I will not credit any of Walter's deeds as benevolent. That creature suffered greatly for his master's crimes. I would never wish such torture upon anyone – not even one so cruel as he."
"I am afraid I do not see him as you do," Leon whispered. His hands fell away from his face. He turned his head toward the window, and for a long moment, stared at the forested trees bathing in the sun's warm light. A cloudy haze consumed the sky. Without looking at the alchemist, he continued softly. "He was human once, and no different than you and I. I believe there is more to him than we will ever know."
"You are weary. Let us never talk of this again. I will get you something to eat, and I suggest afterward, you rest in the back until tomorrow."
"Thank you, Rinaldo." The knight returned Rinaldo's suggestion with a dull smile.
The old man gave the youth a goblet of red wine, and together, they supped upon a modest meal of coarse barely bread, goat's cheese, and fish Rinaldo had caught from a nearby stream. Leon found the food somewhat consoling and, upon finishing, politely excused himself to rest. Rinaldo's makeshift guestroom in the cottage's storage room was cramped, but calming . He drew the ragged drapes across the room's lone window to block out the sunlight, before lying upon the tiny mattress. Despite his desire to sleep, it did not come easily. He found himself staring blankly at the wood-planked ceiling for quite some time.
Always, his thoughts lingered upon Sara. He would never see her smile again; or feel her in his embrace. Her eyes, more beautiful than all the stars in heaven, would never grace him with their loveliness again. They had not the chance to share even one last tender moment before her passing. She had been afraid; unwilling to risk the possibility of tainting him as well.
He wondered how she had come across a dagger during her frantic effort to escape. Sara had never carried a weapon in all the time he knew her. Even though he should have let the matter rest, uncertainty still churned within him. He could not express what it was, but something in Sara's words – or was it her eyes? – compelled him to dwell upon what she endured before his arrival at Eternal Night.
Leon rose from the bed, hurried toward the storage shelves, and searched them until he found the deadly object. He held the small weapon and examined it closely. The dagger was finely crafted with a silver handle and razor-sharp edge, attesting to workmanship by an experienced blacksmith. Engraved very delicately into the handle was a family crest depicting a scrawled letter A. It was so small that if he had not searched for it closely, he might have missed seeing it. The knight let out a gasp, nearly dropping the weapon. He had seen a similar crest during his campaigns in the east.
He reflected upon Sara's final plea. When he desperately asked to know the reason, she begged him to understand. Sara's willingness to give her life for others was selfless, though unclear. Her determination revealed an even greater purpose. It pained him to think it was not for him to know.
"If my soul can save others then I won't die in vain. I do not want anyone else to suffer my fate.
Please, if you still love me, grant me my final wish."
The crest on the weapon proved it was not something she had found in Rinaldo's storage room. The knight's eyes softened, their lucid blue spheres glistening with suppressed tears. He pictured the young nobleman standing in the darkness of his prison, his body shuddering while he confessed sorrowfully; tears brimming in his eyes.
"I…would have betrayed her… if I took your life…"
Leon crumpled to the floor as a barely audible sob wracked his chest. He wanted to remember only Sara's beautiful, smiling face, when he had held her hand and confessed his deepening affection for her. She captured his heart thoroughly and completely. She was honorable, he knew that undoubtedly, but he regretted asking her to wait for him those two long years. He thought he would have the chance to make amends; to devote himself to her happiness for the rest of their lives together. The pale visage of the vampire shadowed his thoughts; his gleaming, dagger-like eyes stared at him through the darkness. Leon could see Sara's image reflect in the vampire's gaze…
He did not want to know more. If he knew, he feared believing everything he sacrificed would be for naught.
…The vampire, Lord Armster, locked away in the waterways; condemned to an eternity of anguish…
…Sara's last wish to prevent others from suffering…
Not only her fate, but also his...
Mathias emerged from the darkness, offering him his hand. The knight's chest ached, and beads of sweat slid down his smooth cheeks. After years of searching, he had finally confronted his former ally. He looked into the tactician's dark spheres, feeling the pain within them engulf him completely. Sadness overwhelmed the knight, for he spent years in a dark, lonely solitude, uncertain of his past and future. Grief and anger had weathered away his former innocence. Mathias offered him certainty, and he welcomed the tactician's pale hand. He was too exhausted to continue. His body, once strong and agile, had succumbed to the ravages of years searching. Now, when they at last met, he could not bring himself to destroy the one who had wronged him so deeply. The world had abandoned him; everyone he knew forgot him, and his family name was nothing but a memory. All the hope within him died over time. Without resisting, he let Mathias' porcelain hand take his. The tactician's dark, fur-lined cloak gently embraced him. He felt the vampire's breath upon the back of his neck. Mathias' calm voice was reassuring, even gentle.
I have waited for this day, Leon. I knew you would come to accept this gift as I did. Together, we can accomplish much, just as we did years ago when we fought side-by-side; preserving in each other a desire for justice. Not even time will remedy your pain, even though I did what was necessary. You needed to understand my grief in order to see God's treachery. For you are all that remains of a life I once cherished…
The tactician's cold lips skimmed the surface of the knight's graceful neck. Leon gasped, torn between the urge to resist and to relent. He shuddered when the vampire stroked his face, and felt his body relax into the creature's embrace. Barely conscious, he felt the whip slip from his fingers and heard it fall onto the ground by his feet. The weapon pulsed a bright shade of purple, warning him of the dangerous contract he was about to enter, screaming for him to recover the will to refuse. Mathias' fingers combed the locks of his flaxen hair as if to comfort him.
Suddenly, without warning, a sharp pain surged through his neck. He wanted to scream, but his voice betrayed him to silence. Lord Cronqvist's embrace tightened, and he clutched the knight to his chest, whilst his long, chestnut colored tumbled across his back and shoulders, curtaining the young man. The knight began to feel weak, and the intimacy of his friend's touch aroused and terrified him simultaneously. Blood poured across the lapels of his surcoat and stained the white fabric crimson.
When it seemed his life would surely end, the pain ebbed away, and his conscious efforts to breathe affirmed the contrary. The tactician's smooth lips skimmed the knight's blood-drenched neck, reveling in his former adversary's absolute surrender. A low, breathless moan escaped the young man's throat when Mathias' tongue slowly licked the blood away, turning pain into pure, unadulterated pleasure.
Eternity is merely the beginning, Leon…
Leon bolted upright in the bed, feeling his body break into a cold sweat. Without thinking, he grabbed the whip on the bedside table and lifted his arm, searching for Mathias' silhouette within the tiny, shadow-cloaked room. Panting heavily, he rose from the bed, hurried to the window, and tore the curtain away. Amidst the night's starry abyss, the full moon greeted him with its pale, soft light. He had slept through the entirety of the day and awakened to night.
The knight wiped his brow and began recovering his clothes and supplies. When he was fully dressed, he opened the guestroom door, and crept toward the cottage's back door. Moonlight spilled through the cottage's windows, bathing the floorboards in a shroud of glistening white. He was still weary and sleep had been fleeting. In the darkness, his haggard, sickly face revealed him.
Leon opened the back door and crossed the back garden. His feet, despite their uncharacteristic heaviness, found the strength to carry him onward. As he walked, his breath rose in puffs into the night sky. The air was crisp and a light layer of frost covered the ground and the branches of the evergreens surrounding the tiny clearing.
Finally, he could walk no more, and stood silently before Sara's grave. The wreath of chrysanthemums he had woven and laid upon her grave reminded him of her. He had not been able to grieve; all he had focused on after her death was confronting Walter. It shamed him to know that, in his determination to avenge her, had not taken the time to mourn. He had loved her; loved her with a love that he would not betray for eternity. He fell to his knees before her grave, unable, and perhaps, unwilling to leave her. The whip cinched to his waist belt pulsed with a soft, purple glow when his hand reached out and touched the cold, rough surface of her grave marker. He had used a large rock as a makeshift tombstone. The rock's crudeness was unbefitting of Sara's memory but it was all he could find. Briefly, he looked up at the moon, and was somewhat unaccustomed to its whiteness. The forest, and the night itself, seemed to regain its former normalcy.
A soft, sad smile crossed his lips when he thought of her. How beautiful Sara would have looked in her wedding dress. He imagined her smiling face and bright, crystalline eyes gazing upon him. The sunlight would have made the ivory whiteness of her dress sparkle like snow.
At last, his gaze broke away from the moon and to her grave. In his grief, he had not taken notice that something was different. The knight slowly rose to his feet. A small bouquet of flowers had been placed beside Sara's makeshift tombstone. The mauve colored flowers gave off a pleasant fragrance. At first, he assumed Rinaldo might have left them there out of respect. However, the old man seldom left the protection of the barrier. When Leon had gathered chrysanthemums growing near the cottage, there was not a trace of violets anywhere.
The knight startled when an echoing cry sounded from the trees. Without thinking, his hand flew to the whip and grasped it. His fever was worsening, but he would not rest until he found the source of the sound. With slow, deliberate steps, he walked around the side of the cottage, scanning the trees for the outline of a monster. The full moon aided his search, and provided enough light for him to see his way. When he approached the front of the cottage, a faint, whinnying cry shattered the silence of the night. Leon frantically searched the forest until he caught sight of a gleaming silver horse galloping through the foliage. The beast was moving so swiftly his eyes could scarcely follow it. The drum of rapid hoof beats resounded through the darkness. When the equine plunged into the tiny clearing in front of the cottage, Leon froze upon realizing that the creature's hooves did not touch the gravel path. A dull aura surrounded the beast's ethereal form. A strange white film covered the horse's eyes, initially making him assume it was blind. It slowed to a halt and turned its regal head to look at him. Layers of silky hair rested upon its slender neck; strong muscles rippled beneath its shimmering coat. When it stood still, its ghostly form seemed no less real than he was.
With a low huff, the creature lifted its head and pricked its ears forward. The moment he stepped toward the equine, it half-rose upon its haunches and emitted a defiant neigh. He meant the creature no harm, and attempted to approach it slowly. Yet, when he came within a few feet of its translucent form, the beast turned, and disappeared over the path's inclining slope. Leon doggedly followed the beast. Although it took great effort for him to walk, he was determined to discover where the ghostly apparition had gone. Like a lantern in the sky, the full moon lit the gravel path, aiding him in his pursuit.
He continued up the path until the eerie remains of the castle emerged in the distance. Like an ancient ruin, a massive pile of stone and debris was all that remained of Walter's glory. The only thing that had survived the castle's collapse was its entry archway and exterior front wall. Somehow, the castle emanated a forlorn, lamenting sadness. The moon loomed above the castle's remains, illuminating its crumbling half-broken towers and sagging archway. For a brief second, beyond the broken drawbridge, Leon caught sight of the equine's silvery form disappearing into the ruins. Unwilling to turn back, he approached the castle's decaying stone front and stood before the broken drawbridge. He had no choice except to use the whip to swing himself across, for the ground beneath it had given way to a deep cavity in the earth.
Leon withdrew the Vampire Killer and lifted his arm. He managed to latch the whip around one of the winches that once secured the drawbridge. Without hesitating, he swung across the gap. After landing on the opposite side, he walked beneath the precariously sinking entrance arch and into what had formerly been the castle's circular entranceway. Piles of rocks littered the ground and the doors to its east and western wings were no longer accessible; massive broken columns and statues barricaded them. Oddly enough, the only thing that survived the quake was the balcony and its two ascending staircases on either side of it. The balcony led to nowhere, for the entrance to the pagoda behind it had fallen away completely. The full moon, now the balcony's lone backdrop, cast a soft, pale light across it. Thousands of stars glittered in the night sky around the broken entranceway as if grieving the demise of its former magnificence.
There was no sign of the equine anywhere. Faintness overwhelmed the knight, and he had to lean against the wall to stay standing. Too weary to continue his pursuit, Leon reluctantly turned to leave. The ruined castle unsettled him, for it brought back painful memories of the vampire who once ruled it. The very suggestion that he might have seen an apparition seemed suddenly ludicrous. He shook his head, and might have laughed at himself, had disappointment not consumed him. However, upon turning to depart, a strange feeling overcame his senses. He was not alone.
Whip in hand, he spun round and cracked it against the battered stone floor. He gasped, and staggered back while taking in the sight of a figure standing atop the balcony – a lone silhouette bathed in the light of the full moon. Leon stared unblinkingly, trying to discern the identity of his observer. The tails of the figure's robes, caught by the wind, swept around the shadowy frame like folded wings. Leon felt the stranger's eyes focus intently upon him. Neither he nor his observer spoke. In the brief moment Leon saw the figure, its familiar, slender outline almost convinced him that what he once thought impossible was real. He stared in amazement, wondering if, perhaps….just perhaps…he was looking upon the last vestige of the night.
The figure was so still it was almost statue-like, and stood with the regality of a fallen sovereign. Leon saw the figure turn its head slightly, so that the moon's soft light revealed a glimpse of its smooth, youthful ashen face and glossy white hair. Though he could not explain it, some form of understanding passed between them, there, amidst the castle's haunting ruins. Leon's breath hitched in his chest. They seemed to share the same profound grief; the same lament of innocence that could never be fully regained. He forced himself to divert his gaze when he noticed the whip's dim purple aura glowing a shade brighter than usual. Calm warmth surged from the weapon. Leon looked up at the shadow-cloaked figure again, his dark blue eyes gleaming in the moonlight. However, when the knight's recognition showed upon his face, the figure turned and began walking slowly away.
"Wait!"
Leon's voice was lost in the howling wind. He ran toward the balcony, swiftly ascending the steps, anxious to prevent the person from leaving. To his despair, when he stood atop the lonely platform, his watcher was nowhere in sight. Leon searched the entirety of the balcony and entranceway until the dark, starry sky gradually faded to dawn. Exhausted and frustrated, the knight resigned himself to the fact that, whomever he thought he had seen that night, had disappeared.
By dawn, he was so feverish that he could barely walk. It took all of his strength and willpower to stagger back to Rinaldo's house. He had barely reached the veranda when he collapsed.
The days following were a mere blur. As he drifted in and out of consciousness, Rinaldo stayed at his bedside at all hours of the day and night. Were it not for the old man's kindness, the young man would have surely perished from sickness. Every hour, Rinaldo lifted Leon's sweat-soaked head and pressed a cup to his lips. Vaguely, he remembered hearing Rinaldo gently encouraging him to drink the medicinal liquid. It took great effort for Leon to sip from the cup, but Rinaldo was persistent, and helped him drink until it was empty. After he finished the tea, the alchemist often laid a damp cloth over his forehead in an effort to bring the fever down. Sometimes, Rinaldo never left his bedside, not even to rest himself. Those were the times when the knight's breathing grew shallow, and the only way the old man knew Leon still lived was when he heard the youth murmur in his sleep. Leon often awoke trembling, and his skin was a shade so pale he looked neither alive nor dead.
On one occasion, when Rinaldo left the tiny room to make another remedy, the knight swung his feet over the edge of the bed and stumbled unsteadily to his feet. He grasped around the room until he found the wall beside the door and rested his shoulder against it, before forcing his feet to carry him forward. In his haste, he fell against the shelves, knocking over most of the contents stored upon them with a resounding crash.
Barely a moment later, Rinaldo flew into the room and took the young man's arm. "Leon, why are you out of bed?"
The old man's voice was firm, though concern washed across his face as he tried to lead him back to the tiny cot. To his amazement, the youth resisted him, and frantically attempted to move toward the door.
Despite his age, Rinaldo was far stronger than the weakened knight, and easily prevented his escape. "What are you doing?"
Leon's eyes were wide and glassy; their blue spheres gleaming with wild excitement. His strength began to leave him again, and his chest heaved from the exertion of standing. Dizziness overcame him, and he abruptly stumbled against the alchemist for support. With the desperation of a madman, he croaked. "He's alive, he's alive! I saw him myself!"
"Who are you talking about?" Rinaldo gave the young man an incredulous look.
"I saw him, Rinaldo! Why won't you believe me?"
"I don't know what you mean!" The old man snapped. Then, catching himself, he shook his head and laid the young man down upon the cot. "Your fever has gotten worse, and you must rest. God help me, but I will do all I can for you. You deserve far better than life has given you but you must live, Leon. Live for Sara's sake, if not your own!"
"Sara…" The knight whispered her name under his breath. As soon as he spoke it, she appeared before him in the doorway. The long, thick locks of her dark brown hair framed her lovely, fair face. A sad, gentle smile crossed her lips as she stood, gazing benevolently upon him. The white skirt of her dress flowed gracefully over the floor around her feet. She bowed her head and spoke, her soft voice filling his ears. If you still love me, Leon…
"I can see her! She is over there smiling at me! Oh, what I would give to bring her back to me! My dearest - my dearest - my love and my hope…"
Rinaldo did not turn to look where the knight said she was standing, knowing all too well it would merely drive the young man into a frenzied state. Without replying, he sat down upon a chair beside the cot until the youth drifted back to sleep.
Two weeks passed before Leon was strong enough to leave Rinaldo's care. His recovery was miraculous, and he felt stronger than ever before. Colour returned to his face, and his eyes were bright. Despite regaining the will to live, he seemed far older than when he first came to the forest, even though the vibrancy of youth still existed within him. He could not remember what he had said to Rinaldo while he was ill, and the old man never broached the topic. The knight refrained from confessing to Rinaldo that, since the day he grew strong enough to walk again, he secretly ventured to the fallen castle every night. Perhaps, the whip's warm glow stirred something akin to longing within the knight – for what – he did not know.
As time went on, he began to wonder if what he had seen that moonlit night was, in actuality, real at all. The castle had collapsed, taking all its monsters and mysteries with it. Each time he returned to the castle, he left feeling even more doubtful that anything could have survived.
Finally, the day came when he was ready to leave the forest. Leon humbly accepted the generous supplies of food and potions the old man offered. They stood outside, admiring the pleasantness of the day, for the fierceness of winter was slowly giving way to spring's rejuvenating splendour It was a beautiful, clear day, and the sun shone brilliantly in the cerulean sky.
"Where will you go now?" Rinaldo asked with amicable yet somewhat wistful smile.
Leon's eyes traced the path before him and he shook his head. "Honestly, I do not know. I will see if I can locate any trace of Mathias during my travels."
"So," the old man sighed. "It's clear you have made your decision. I can only hope that, wherever you go, you will find peace one day."
"I can only hope for the same. Somewhere, there are vampires hunting innocents – vampires who may know Lord Cronqvist's whereabouts. I will do all I can to protect others from befalling Sara's fate. You have been a better friend than I could have ever asked for, and I thank you for all you have done for me…and for Sara."
Rinaldo's smile broadened. "You have done me an even greater honor. I will not forget it."
Leon turned to depart and slung the cloth bag of supplies over his back. However, he hesitated a moment, and looked over his shoulder at the old man. "I have one more question."
"Go on." An amused glint appeared in the old man's eyes, reminding Leon of a time when one question often led to many.
"What will you do? Will you soon leave this place?"
"I have considered it," Rinaldo's expression became pensive, though he did not seem concerned in the least. "A part of me feels this forest is my home, now. However, I may have to move on, eventually. Even with Walter gone, I doubt very many people will pass through here. Many still consider this forest cursed by vampires. The men and women who did happen to find Eternal Night came deliberately, with no other reason except to challenge the master of castle. I will not sell much if I stay here. I suppose, when the time is right, I will decide."
Leon nodded silently. With a respectful bow, he gave the old man his final valediction. "I wish you well then. Goodbye, Rinaldo."
"Farewell, Leon."
Two years passed since Leon Belmont defeated the lord of Eternal Night. The former knight wandered across Europe, valiantly searching for any sign of Lord Cronqvist to no avail. Over time, he began to wonder if Mathias had simply vanished off the face of the earth. No one had seen nor heard of Lord Cronqvist after his disappearance. Since the tactician had no heir or surviving relations, Mathias' estate would have been passed unto Leon. However, the crusader's disgrace in the courts was unforgotten, and some believed he had murdered the tactician in order to acquire his assets. Such groundless accusations enraged Leon, and he refused to claim his inheritance. Nevertheless, his innocence in the matter of Lord Cronqvist's disappearance remained dubious.
The former knight could have very well told the courts the truth of Mathias' betrayal, but who would believe him? Despite the sorrow Mathias wrought upon him, he did not wish to tarnish the legacy he left behind, for it was all that reminded the world – and himself – of his former friend's goodness. The Church and his fellow noblemen had thought him mad when he surrendered his title and lands to fight a vampire. To make matters worse, Sara's disappearance and the brutal murders of her relatives sparked even greater controversy. Leon, a man once honored and respected by all who knew the Belmont name, became hated and feared.
During his wanderings, he had to take great caution whenever he happened upon villages. Many times at least one person recognized his family name, which always resulted in his immediate banishment. People had even gone so far as to chase him out of their settlements by force, nearly impaling him with arrows, swords, and spears as he fled. Mathias' fame as one of the crusader's most beloved heroes inclined almost anyone Leon met to despise him instantly. A point finally came when he considered adopting an alias so people no longer associated him with the tactician's disappearance. However, upon reflecting upon the idea, he decided against it. No matter what people thought, he would never shame his own family name by hiding from it. Thus, he continued to introduce himself as Leon Belmont, and endured their prejudice and scorn. It would take the better part of a hundred years before the ill reputation associated with the Belmont clan receded into long forgotten memory.
Occasionally, rumors circulated about a power vampire that dwelled in a mountainous region of Romania, where the steep, jagged terrain was too treacherous for travelers. Determined to pursue his newest lead, Leon decided to follow the roads until the rocky terrain forced him to find his way through the surrounding forests. His once exquisite red and white surcoat was ragged and torn from years of wandering.
Throughout his journeys around Europe, he fought all sorts of monsters: undead zombies, harpies, skeletons, and lesser vampires were just a few he encountered on a regular basis. Monsters began appearing all across Europe, their origins unknown, but their sheer numbers were a cause for alarm. Leon had a growing suspicion that the appearance of monsters was no coincidence. Mathias was building his power somewhere deep in the mountains, undoubtedly using the Ebony and Crimson stones to summon undead demons from the darkness. The vampires he encountered on his journey were far less powerful than Walter was. They were humans bitten and transformed into senseless, raging fiends, without a conscience or memory of their former selves. He might have compared the lesser vampires to the young nobleman of the waterways, but his former adversary was also more powerful and dangerous than the vampires he encountered during his travels. Once a victim's humanity was completely lost, they were as brutal and vicious as a mad animal. None of the vampires he defeated could tell him who had turned them or Mathias' whereabouts.
One particularly cool evening, the knight was walking along the rough pathway when the howling cry of a wolf startled him. Although exhausted, he recognized that the howl belonged to a werewolf. A werewolf's howl was loud and possessed a human-like vocalization that was unmistakable. Leon immediately drew the Vampire Killer whip and searched for the beast. A thick, heavy fog had rolled in from the mountains and cloaked his surroundings in a silvery shroud. Werewolves were some of the most treacherous monsters. If he was not careful, one bite from their powerful jaws could sever a limb or – worse yet – turn him.
Leon quickly sighted the shadowy form of the beast sprinting through the trees, circling around him whilst low, ferocious snarls and growls vibrated from its throat. The creature was trying to frighten and confuse its prey, though the young man refused to move from his position in the middle of the pathway. The werewolf would have to face him on his terms. He waited, patiently following the animal's dark, hulking form through the fog. When he did not try to run away as the creature might have expected, the werewolf changed tactics, and moved in for the kill directly. As the monster plunged toward him, Leon drew his arm holding the whip back, and struck the beast across the face. The werewolf was at least twice his size. It's limbs and hands were human-like, though its chest and back was covered in a thick layer of inky black fur. The beast's long hands, armed with powerful, razor-sharp claws, could tear a man in half with a single swipe. When the animal bared its teeth in outrage, its lips drew back, revealing pointed, gleaming white incisors. Two larger needle-like fangs protruded from the beast's upper and lower jaws. The creature's glowing red eyes eerily pierced through the fog.
The werewolf let out a howl in anger and rose upon its haunches. Leon dashed out the way when it swung its heavy, long arms in an attempt to slash him with its claws. He swung the whip a second time, bringing it across the creature's chest with a heavy crack. The werewolf doubled back in pain while furiously gnashing its incisors. Without allowing it another opportunity to attack, Leon struck the beast multiple times with the whip in quick succession. He thought he had gotten the better of the creature, until his ears caught the dreaded sounds of two other werewolves howling. The beasts would be upon him at any moment, and he was vastly outnumbered. When he managed to subdue the first werewolf, another emerged through the fog, snarling and growing with a hunger to devour the young man before he could defend himself. The two werewolves blocked the path in front and behind him, effectively trapping him.
Within seconds, the werewolf in front of Leon leapt upon him. The knight was no match against the werewolf's greater bulk and fell onto the ground. The beast's heavy body pinned him down, nearly crushing his ribcage. Its gaping maw came within inches of his face, fully prepared to tear him to pieces. Leon attempted to kick the creature off him, but its powerful hands and feet held him down with the strength of ten men. He could feel the monster's hot breath lick at his face; and the feel of its soft, black fur pressing against him sent chills down his spine. He could barely breathe; if he did not find a way to free himself, he would surely suffocate. The werewolf drew its head back as its glowing crimson eyes focused upon the knight's vulnerable jugular.
The moment the beast sought to tear his throat out, a horrible, whining howl sounded from its throat. Leon's azure eyes widened when his gaze fell upon the gleaming edge of a sword impaled through the beast's abdomen. Something pulled the sword out of the animal, and with one clean swipe, severed the werewolf's head clean off. Blood spurted into the air and drenched Leon's chest. With great effort, he managed to push the creature's heavy remains off him.
The knight's mouth almost fell open when his gaze fell upon a young woman standing over him holding a blood-covered sword. She wore thigh-high black boots and a short, navy blue robe over a sleeveless emerald green dress. The top of the robe folded over, revealing its silky blue-lined interior, as well as her sloping neck and shoulders. Her light, golden blond hair was plaited into a long, single braid. Her fair face looked upon him in concern.
"Are you all right?" She asked gently, while extending one of her gloved hands to him.
"I-I-yes, I'm fine." Leon took her hand.
A brief smile crossed her fine lips. She tall for a woman, and though her appearance gave the illusion of fragility, she helped him up with ease. "I was worried I was too late. Werewolves have become a common problem around here these past two years. Most people are not brave enough to travel these roads anymore."
Remembering there was still another werewolf, Leon clutched the whip and hurried down the road in search of it. "Stay back! There's still another somewhere nearby-"
"It's already dead." The lady called, just as he stumbled upon the body of the third werewolf. The knight stared down at the dead monster in surprise. The beast's chest and shoulders were impaled by numerous sword wounds. So many, in fact, that his eyes immediately returned to her. Before he could utter a word, she shook her head, her bright blue eyes shining as she walked leisurely toward him. "I didn't kill it."
Leon's gaze returned to the body in amazement. "Who could have done this?"
"I wish I could tell you, but I know not." She shrugged. When she stood within a few feet of him, her eyes scanned him closely. A mysterious smile appeared upon her face when she continued lightly. "Whoever did saved your life."
"As did you," He replied. "I am grateful. How, may I ask, did you happen to find me?"
"I was hunting in these woods," Her eyes glanced at the fog encompassing them. "I heard the werewolves howling, and sought them out. If I did not kill them, they would soon have been upon me."
Leon nodded, but curiosity had overcome him, and he could not help the desire to converse with his unlikely savior. "Isn't this a dangerous place to be hunting? You are alone."
To his surprise, a quiet chuckle escaped her lips, and a smile returned to her lovely face. "Are you fearful for me?"
"I was merely concerned." Leon replied, feeling his cheeks flush. With a respectful bow, he gave her an apologetic look. "Forgive my interference."
"I suppose I should tell you, I was not hunting game in these woods." She continued, the smile vanished from her face as quickly as it appeared. "I live in a village nearby. Two days ago, a vampire was rumored to have been seen roaming the woods near my home. I went out in search of it – against my mother's wishes, of course. Monsters have frequently attacked my village these past months. I have had to protect my mother, as well as the villagers, from the demons of the night."
Leon's breath hitched in his chest, and his eyes widened. "You were searching for a vampire?"
"Yes. I have not seen it with my own eyes, so I'm afraid I cannot describe it personally. Nevertheless, I think we have both endured enough for one evening. Why, if I may ask, are you wandering here? Visitors seldom travel this far."
"It seems we share a similar interest," he replied. He was uncertain of whether or not to continue, but her concern for him seemed genuine. After pausing a moment to collect himself, he placed a hand on his hip and turned away. His voice became quiet. "Someone close to me was tainted by a vampire, and I have been hunting them ever since."
"I am sorry to hear that." She lowered her head. Her fine lips formed a saddened frown. "I will not question you further then. Your reasons are your own."
"Forgive me, for I have yet to introduce myself." Leon turned to look at her once more. It had been a long time since he talked to a woman, let alone one who did not seem to fear traversing the forest alone. He realized he knew almost nothing about her, and her remarkable prowess in battle intrigued him. He swept a bow before her, the layers of his golden hair falling around his smooth, graceful face as he candidly introduced himself. "My name is Leon…Belmont."
"Ah, I beg your pardon Sir Belmont, for not doing the same." She replied, chuckling at her own forgetfulness. "I am Sonia Theissen."
They stared at each other for a long moment, trying to read the other's thoughts. After a lengthy silence passed, she ushered for him to follow. When she walked, her steps were light and swift. Her long, light blond braid swayed gently behind her. Although they had just met, she seemed confident about him, though he knew not why. Whereas others recoiled at the stigma of his family name, her indifference surprised him utterly.
She looked over her shoulder at him, her bright blue eyes inviting his company. "Well, Sir Belmont, you must be tired from your travels. Please, come with me to my village, and stay as a guest in my home. My mother runs an inn, and I am certain she would welcome you also. You helped destroy several werewolves near our village, and for that, you have my gratitude."
Despite her kindness, the former knight hesitated. The last thing he wanted was for her to drive him away once she discovered his family's ill reputation. With a sigh, he shook his head. "I thank you for your kindness, but I cannot accept."
"Why not?"
"My family is not very well liked as of late. I do not wish to bring trouble upon you and your household."
"No one will know your family name. Our village is secluded, and visitors are a rarity, I assure you."
"It is more than just that-"
"Whatever it was, I am certain it was no fault of your own." She said firmly. Her eyes scanned him carefully once again. The lady's perceptiveness caught the young man off guard. When he fell silent, she continued. "People judge what they do not know far too often. I can tell you are a good man, who has experienced a great deal of pain. Though, you might not reveal it, I can see it in your face. My sister had that very same look before she disappeared."
"How can you be certain I am what you think?" Leon asked. Though it was not his intention to chastise her for trusting him, he feared himself, even though he longed to accept her kindness. Those whom he cared for and trusted long ago were lost because of him.
The lady's hand brushed across the silver sword sheathed at her hip. With a shrug, she chuckled. "Because if you weren't I wouldn't have saved your life."
Though he wanted to resist, her unexpected kindness made him temporarily forget his loneliness. Sonia's insistence won him, and he accompanied her down the road.