Trevor grudgingly opened his eyes, even if the bedroom was dark, and the first thing he felt was a backache. It was hard to tell what hurt the most: his face, his knee, his back itself, or some other detail that went by unnoticed. He buried his face in the pillow and rolled slowly towards Sypha, lying in the corner of the bed. She woke up and caressed his chin with a hand, dragging herself closer for a hug, too close, as he liked to be. The touch reminded him of the night before, the ice she applied on his bruises, the medicine she prepared, her gentle hands massaging whatever could be pressed, and also his retribution; Sypha had less wounds, but not enough for him to ignore it. As they lied in bed, he heard her recite Mother Bethania's chant for him in a nightly whisper, and, in a silence where there was only rain, it filled the bedroom whole.

All of a sudden, Trevor felt the bed behind him moving, and he peeked over his shoulder to see what was that about. Alucard got up from it and searched the baggage. Did he sleep here? From where Trevor was, he could not see the straw to check if it was messy or not. Well, whatever. From the corner of his eye, he saw Alucard eating a bunch of hard oat bread with a side of honeycomb. Trevor closed his eyes again, and lost himself in the hug until he heard a metal clang on the floor. Both on the bed had a scare and rose up to see a fallen water cup, and Alucard looking at it with an awkward stare.

"Sorry," he said.

They did not reply and went back to the bed, under the tranquil bliss of that morning.

"He's not feeling well," Sypha murmured as Alucard left and closed the door.

"None of us are," Trevor shrugged and hugged her tighter.

"It's more complicated than that."

He sighed and turned face up with a painful lament. Sypha snuggled on his left shoulder.

"You know, I'm thinking of taking a day off. Maybe tomorrow as well," he brushed aside some hair on his eye, "My leg feels terrible." And I really, really want to pay it back.

Sypha stroked his chest. "Well, it doesn't sound bad in the slightest."

"But, about what you told me," Trevor said, "I'll try and talk to him."

Alucard climbed upstairs with a fabric bag in a hand and a hot mug of willow tea in the other. No sunrays entered the upper floor through the glass panels, in that gloomy autumn day. He took a deep breath and felt like his energy was back, head to toe. The beautiful window had a railing where he could sit. He left his paraphernalia on it when he sat and opened the bag, which contained the journal and the quill. He assembled it, wet it in the ink and began.

"It would be plausible if I wasn't back to write this next page, but here I am. Yes, I know: the mind works in mysterious ways. Sometimes, I'd like to erase myself, as one cleans dust from a table, but yesterday, I found myself in the border between life and death, and I fought desperately in order not to cross it. Not only for my own life, but for the ones of those people there, who counted on me, and I can say I counted on them, too.

Katrina, the girl I mentioned before, is alive and well. Out of that mad state, she seems like a sweet, well-mannered girl. She's sixteen, and didn't talk much about herself to me, which I fully comprehend. She has an older sister, nicknamed Thea by her family, and I suppose Theodora, who gave Katrina a nephew, and also an older brother, who was away, so, I had no opportunity to meet. Before the infelicity, it's not hard to picture them as a common, hard-working family, a God-fearing one, faithful for the future.

Leo Alexe, our fellow host in the tavern, with whom I talked very briefly, is also alive. Trevor says he didn't wake up until it was time he left the hospital. Leo jumped from the tavern roof, resulting in two broken limbs, maybe some broken ribs, and God knows what goes through his mind right now. The old nun, who we found out to be a Mother named Bethania, also had a heartbeat when we left her sleeping, but she's way too experienced and hardened by life to let herself be disheartened by the blindness that's now a part of her. It's still a question mark for us, however, the origins of the curse of Ploiesti, as well as other more efficient and less demanding ways to fight it, besides fighting each shadow, one by one.

If there are other cursed people in the city? Well, I believe so, and I ask myself if we should deal with their shadows. Sypha inquires herself the same, since we are all in poor condition, and it isn't the easiest of jobs. She's the less wounded one. My neck suffered some injury, such as my face, and the rest of my body as well. Trevor is in a similar situation, and as a plus, he has the bruises I caused. I regret them only a little. It was his idea.

About them both, now. Sypha, you're first. Since I've met you, I appreciate your company, your conversation topics, the way you see the world, how you deal with things and people. I think you're talented and dedicated. You have a healthy sense of humor. I worry about you, because I think you're way too selfless. And, well… I'd be lying if I said there's no beauty in you. You have delicate, pleasant features, despite your aesthetic choices, and my old clothes suit you very well, what I guess she knows.

Now, Trevor. I don't hate you, and I don't want you to die. You're insolent, rude, cynic, and, believe it or not, you run away from many problems, even if you caused them: 'it's none of my business,' you say, and jump out of it as if you had not laid a finger on what happened. But I also admire your wit, ingenuity, strength, and skill, all of those being attributes out of the ordinary. You're no ordinary man, of course. You're a Belmont, even if you've been once a wandering, drunkard, pauper one. Well, to be honest, you're still a wanderer. And a drunkard… And a pauper. However, there's a notable difference that the time made, and, why not?, love, too.

And why am I talking about it:"

"Are you busy?"

Alucard lifted his face and saw Trevor standing in front of him. "Not enough for you to refrain from interrupting me," he closed the notebook, "You should be in bed."

"Later. I want to enjoy my day off in this good tavern," Trevor said.

Alucard frowned. "And you're inviting me?"

"In a way."

"Was Sypha invited as well?"

"Me and her weren't born attached to one another. Come."

They climbed down the stairs together to the saloon. That time of the day, there were one or two people besides two of the waiting staff, who chatted by the counter. They chose a table near the fireplace, and Trevor put his leg on the opposite chair, letting out a relief sound.

"It would be a nice hour for that bathtub of yours," Trevor commented.

"How's your leg?"

"And you still have the balls to ask?"

"I just wanted to catch you off guard," Alucard put both hands up.

"Be ready for retribution. I won't warn you either."

One of the waiters got up from the counter to see if they wanted something, and the drink of the day was mulled wine. The mug was steaming, and the taste was watery, but somewhat flavorful.

"It's well seasoned," Trevor looked inside the mug, "It tastes like nutmeg."

"It seems so."

"Well, to what matters," Trevor approached him and started speaking quieter, "I was thinking. Sure, we saved those three. What about now?"

"Are you talking about being paid for it?"

"Not just that. What I mean is: this kind of thing doesn't sprout from the ground."

"Correct," Alucard had a moment to think, "There were three cursed people, four if you take the burglar of Sohodol into account. It doesn't seem like they know each other, and Heaven knows how many already died. Why?"

"Exactly," Trevor put a hand on his own chin, "What would anyone want with this? It doesn't smell like revenge. Or like a hunt for cash."

"The hypotheses that come to me are creating chaos… Or taking lives."

"This other mug of yours. What is it?" Trevor pointed.

"Willow tea," Alucard looked at the bottom of it, "It's over now."

"So, give the bark to that young man there, and ask him to bring me one."

They called the waiter and ordered him to boil more of the analgesic.

Trevor began talking again. "Well, if we think by the chaos side, do you think someone plans to weaken the city in order to invade it?"

"That's not what it looks like. Or, if it is, it's very inefficient. The people are afraid, not panicking. There are no arsonists or bandit groups, nothing like that."

"What if we forget that, and think of the victims' lives hypothesis?"

"Lives are things that all of them have… Or had," Alucard remembered the strangled burglar he had not seen, and touched his own neck, "Do you think a burglar would go to the church, Trevor?"

"Why do you ask?" Before Alucard had a chance to reply, Trevor went on, "Well, thinking about it, maybe. Not everything is black and white."

"I'm asking because the church seems like the only connection between the other victims."

"That's a possibility. And what's in this church that curses people?" Trevor asked.

"It's our job to go there and find out."

"'Our' is too strong of a word. I need a break today," Trevor spread his body on the chair.

"Why? There's a mass today," Alucard chuckled.

"I can't believe it," Trevor rolled his eyes, "Can I, like, pass it?"

"You can. I'll go, and leave you here resting."

Trevor sighed with a relieved smile. "I won't kick you as a reward."

"Thank you."

"Maybe just a sweep kick."

"Come on, save it."

"Warn us when you're leaving," With a muffled laugh, Trevor finished the wine, stood up, and left the table.

Alucard nodded and waited for him to disappear into the bedroom to go back to the journal pages.

"And why am I talking about it: it's complicated. I was here when they both met; chasing after me made them meet, to tell the truth. They wouldn't be together if it wasn't for things working out in accordance to an ond prophecy, heard from the future by the Speakers. They're together, and that's a fact."

He swallowed it dry, feeling a palpitation, and started tapping his foot lightly on the floor. Come on, it's not like somebody's reading. The other two knew he kept a journal, but why would that matter? He waited, trying to calm down, took a deep breath, dipped his quill in the ink, and forced himself to finish that line.

"And I am, right now, with an internal, personal confusion that has a lot to do with one of the elements of the couple. There resides the problem.

When it began happening is something in which I can't exactly label a date and time. However, it was born like a poisonous weed in me. Just like a plant, the more time it passes, the more it tends to spread its branches and roots while it is nourished. It is an existence that feeds on the presence around me, on the voice that talks to me, the gaze that crosses mine, and, therefore, it's not dying any time soon. And then, I ask myself, and I ask her: what I feel is, by any chance… What you feel, too?

What if it is? What am I going to do? What are we going to do? I always have the option to leave without looking back, leave them to their destinies without my interference, but that would be abandoning them to the hands of the fate, in a world where luck is a rare good. The castle, my castle, my home where I was born and raised, is there to receive me with doors wide open, so that I sleep until I'm awaken again in a distant time, due to whatever disaster.

But… Why would I do that? There's no use in lying to myself: leaving them, especially her, is the last thing I want. Sometimes, I think I should, that it would be better, and, in this kind of moment, I agree with that with an unexplainable vehemence. However, it's like I said to her that day; my true wishes aren't the same ones as when my personal ghost covers my eyes and whispers in my ears. Despite the wounds, the alcohol, and what's going on with me, I'd like to stay here, as bad as dealing with the world outside is every now and then.

I'll be back when I have more elucidation on all that. See you soon."

Sypha heard the hinges of the door moving, but did not make an effort to open her eyes, lost in the midst of blankets and pillows in the spacious bed. She felt someone lying down besides her, and also dismissed any tries of seeing who was it; it was dark in the bedroom anyway.

"You took so long," she yawned.

"Come on, it wasn't that long."

She was hugged again, in that way she knew all too well. "How's your face?" She asked.

"I can live with it," Trevor made quite a face, "My leg, though, feels like trash."

"Arnica?"

"Please," he sighed.

Sypha left the bed wrapped in one of the blankets to drip a bit of the alcohol solution in a cup of water. "Does it taste good?" It occurred to her.

"No, but I don't argue with medicine. I argue even less with that one."

She walked up to the bed and handed him the cup. "Can I taste it?"

He toasted on his own and drank it in a single gulp. Sypha laughed, shrugged, and went back to bed, exactly to the previous position. Would it be asking too much to stop time a bit? She was almost sleepy again.

"I didn't dream of anything today," Trevor commented, as if he talked to himself, "Nothing, really. I slept like a log."

"That's great." No nightmares and no scares, right? She got closer and kissed his face.

"But, about yesterday," he barely had time to start and Sypha already rolled her eyes, "Can you assure me that nothing happened?"

"Of course not, please. What time would I have for cheating with my hands busy, people looking at me, and a life on the line?"

"I just…", he hesitated. You're insecure, that's what it's called, "I'm just afraid to lose you."

"I'm going nowhere without you by my side."

His begging eyes soon closed as she approached their faces and lips. She held him where she knew would not hurt, with a prudent touch. I know you won't apologize, but this will do. She made sure to forget things for a little while. The hands of both of them started moving more freely, and the kiss went deeper. When Trevor was about to pull her shirt up, they heard the door creaking. Shit, it's unlocked. Alucard spent two seconds there until he let out an apology and closed the door again. Sypha and Trevor stared at each other and a nervous laughter escaped from both. They kissed again, more sweetly.

Alucard climbed down the stairs to the saloon and saw the door of the tavern open, with one of the waiters near it, a young man about fifteen.

"What's going on?" Alucard asked him.

"I don't know, sir," he looked over his shoulder, "Isn't that the caravan?"

Excusing himself, Alucard passed to see the crowding of people on the Tree square, a cluster around a half set stage. There were screams and cursing words of all sort, and, among them, that they were servants of the Devil. Alucard stepped forward outside of the tavern and saw a huge man with his arms wide open, as well as some guards trying to chase away the crowd.

Coming from above, he heard the window of a bedroom being open and saw Trevor and Sypha popping their heads out of it. Shortly after, they both arrived in a hurry, with messy hair and pulling their clothes to their place. The tavern keeper went back to work and they left the building to see what occurred there in further detail. As they approached, they could hear more clearly a screechy female voice in the middle of the people, shouting every kind of insult and angry instigation. Trevor went ahead opening the way until they came up to a young nun, with her face red in anger.

"Sister, what's going on?" Trevor asked.

"These bummers spread their disgrace over Ploiesti! It was them. And they wanted to put on their show of the Devil again. I saw, I saw it yesterday, the devil in the hospital. It's horrendous! And the possessed man won't wake up!"

"I don't remember seeing you yesterday in the patients' bedroom, Sister," Trevor answered, raising up his voice enough for the closer crowd to hear.

"What are you saying?" The nun had a surprised expression.

"There were many Sisters there, but not you," Trevor pointed at himself with his thumb, as the people stopped and listened, "I was the one to free the possessed man. You hear me? I myself, with this whip here, and this sword right here."

The people that surrounded them went silent, and the rest of the crowding started doing the same to look at them, some of them whispering.

"Wanna see it?" Trevor opened his arms, "I'm in a terrible state, just check out my face. My leg here as well. But I can show what these two pretty things here can do. Now, who has a cursed person in the family?"

Some of the people raised their hands.

"And which ones of them came to see the troupe?" He went on.

The raised hands lowered, mostly.

"Who came to see the troupe, and nothing happened?" Trevor had a victorious smile.

Most hands got up. "Do you swear to be telling the truth, in the name of God?"

"Don't say His name in vain," the nun's voice sounded hollow.

Alucard saw her eyes darken completely. He stepped back and pushed the people aside to do the same, with his arms open.

"Sypha, lights," Trevor requested.

She lit up a flame, projecting the nun's long shadow in that sunless day, while reciting Mother Bethania's chant. Most of the crowd began to scatter, some of them running in fear and some giving them space. The nun screamed, covering her ears with her hands and falling to her knees while the shadow got up from the ground.

"This one's on you," Trevor grabbed his sword and threw it to Alucard.

"What am I supposed to do with this kitchen knife?", he frowned, unsheathing the short sword.

"You should do your best," Trevor pointed at the nun on the floor with a head motion.

The shadow jumped atop of the troupe's wagon and perched there, as if it it was four-legged. Very few curious people from the riot remained there. The troupe grouped up on the roots of the Tree and the guards had their spears up. The troupe's horses started to panic, and a young man ran to appease them. Alucard looked at the short sword and sighed. Well, there's no time to pick up mine. He pounced onto his target.

The new shadow was quick and jumped from there to a roof with an aerial stunt. Alucard did the same, from roof to roof. Each slash of the short sword had a miscalculation, and the shadow walked in reverse, as well as skipping, turning its head in a full spin to see where to go. Alucard stepped forward and had to retreat in order to dodge Sypha's icicle, millimeters far from his face. She threw some others, that the creature avoided gracefully; Alucard had to jump not to be pierced by some.

The shadow went to the Tree top, grabbing its weight on the branches, and Alucard had to enter them. He tried to hit it as he jumped from branch to branch. When he got close enough for a succeeding slash, a slap from the enormous hand threw him afar on the pavement. He stood up, dusting his clothes when he saw the shadow spotting who shot the icicles. It pounced onto Sypha, and she had time to turn her face and see it.

Trevor's Morning Star entwined the shadow's feet like a bola, dragging the creature's weight on the ground. Alucard approached it in a slow step and avoided its arms by stepping onto them. The shadow turned its face backwards and, with its deep voice, from a mouthless face, it echoed:

"Nice to meet you."

See you in Hell. "Shut up and die," Alucard replied. He pierced the shadow's head with the sword, burying it deeper until the deafening growl ceased.

When the dark body began to turn into smoke, he looked around and saw the guards tending to the unconscious nun, putting her on the Tree's roots. The shadow disappeared into thin air, and the three approached the caravan, that still shrugged behind the huge man that protected them.

"Thank you," the man said with a strong accent, "Thank you very much."

"You're not from here?" Trevor asked.

"No, he's French," a woman approached, the singer of the troupe; she was also a tall, slender woman, with dark hair in a low ponytail, "Thanks as well. We would be all dead if it wasn't for you." She sighed. "My name's Rosa. I believe to have noticed you yesterday?"

"We came yesterday, that's true. I'm Adrian, pleased to meet you. This is Sypha, and that is-" He looked to his side and did not see Trevor. He was in a corner, exchanging sentences in French with the huge man.

"Does that guy there speak some French?" Rosa asked Sypha.

"Yeah, it's a family thing," Sypha scratched her head, "I can read some of the language, but…"

"Read, huh?" Rosa had a broad smile.

"A bit," Sypha shrugged, "I never came across many books in French."

The girls sat on the Tree's roots to talk, while Alucard laid back onto its trunk, listening to the chat with his arms crossed. He got some details, like Rosa speaking of her role as a storyteller in some presentations, and the unusual names of some of the artists. One of the guards that watched the nun approached Rosa, ordering that they had up to the next day's sunset to leave Ploiesti. Rosa said "yes, sir" and "no, sir" enough until he was satisfied

"There was and there is enough disarray. I hope that you understand,", he finished and left.

"Happens to the best," she shrugged, talking to Sypha, "'The people this', 'the mayor that'... We sort of lasted long here in Ploiesti. Which is good. I like this place."

"It's been a troubled time so far," Sypha had a gentle smile, "But that's great, I guess."

"The things you find here…" Rosa had another kind of smile at her.

Alucard muffled a laugh when he saw Sypha speechless and with her face beet red. "I…" She stuttered, "Well, how to put that into words…"

"It's a shame," Rosa sighed, "Friends, then." They shook hands without much conviction from Sypha. "You know, I've been trying to distract my heart. I met a charming young girl, but it's so hard to see her… I don't even know where she lives. We met when she gave me coins, like you almost did yesterday. I saw her sometimes behind a smithy, but it looks like her parents locked her away. I think they found us out."

"What's her name?" Sypha asked.

"Oh, she's Katrina."

Alucard widened his eyes. That one Katrina? He remembered the girl's whisper in the night of horror. "I'm a sinner." This is what she was talking about.

"Forgive me my intromission, but we know what happened to her," he approached them. Alucard told her everything he thought he could, and, in each sentence, Rosa grew more scared.

"And how is she now?" She asked, as if she begged.

"She had a tremor when we left her," he shook his head with a heartache, "I don't think it's gone."

"Good lord," Rosa said.

There was a bell toll, not too far from them. The church near the Tree struck its bell to announce the upcoming mass, and the sound woke up the unconscious nun. She had barely opened her eyes and started screaming in panic. Trevor and a member of the troupe, a pubescent boy, ran to her.

"My legs," the nun was ecstatic, "I can't feel my legs!"

"You," Trevor called the boy, "I'll put her in your wagon. Tell someone to take her to the hospital."

"Right, sir," he nodded.

Trevor picked her up from the ground with an uninterested face, and she gave him a stinky eye.

"They told me there was a Belmont in the hospital," she said. "That was you, wasn't it?"

He did not answer.

"Heretics," she had anger in her voice. Trevor went on ignoring her, "You should leave this city and never come back."

"Get well soon, Sister. God bless," he dropped her on the back of the wagon without a trace of kindness.

The Frenchman and the dancers disassembled the stage as fast as they could, and the carriage soon left.

The more the bell chimed, the more people approached the Tree to the mass, sneaking in the streets and avoiding the caravan.

"And to think I just wanted a day off," Trevor grumbled when he approached the other three.

"Did I hear Belmont?" Rosa stared at him from head to toe.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Is there something about you that I don't know?"

"Maybe a lot of things," Trevor scratched his head, "Why?"

"I'll pay you a drink and you'll tell me all of them later. Where are you staying?"

The three pointed at the tavern at the same time.

"Men of culture, I see," Rosa commented.

"Now, if you allow me, I really want to jump into that bed," Trevor stretched, "Hit me up if the world's on fire or something."

He kneeled to kiss Sypha and patted Alucard on the shoulder before leaving, which he replied with a friendly mean look.

"Excuse us now, Rosa, but we've got a mass to attend," Alucard said, "Look for us in the tavern later, if that's the case."

"Actually, sir, there's something you could do for me right now," Rosa got up.

"And that would be…?" Alucard frowned.

"I'd like to meet Katrina before I left Ploiesti."

"Go with her," Sypha also stood up, "I'll go to the mass."

"Sounds like a plan," Alucard nodded, "I'll be back soon."

Rosa followed him towards the city gate where the stable was, looking around with curiosity.

"Where do you meet?" Alucard asked.

"If I turn to the left a few times, I believe I'll find it."

"Wait there," he signaled at her to go, "Be right back."

He knocked on the door of the stable and it was answered by a thin young man he did not know, one maybe a little older than Alucard.

"Horses, sir?"

"Actually, no," Alucard stuttered, "I would like to talk to your mother, if you may."

The man gave him a strange look and left. Soon, the petite lady appeared and recognized him, still with her worried semblant.

"Mister Adrian," she said, and he caught a glimpse of a spark in her eyes, "What brings you here?"

"I come to see how's Katrina."

"Come, please, come. She's in the kitchen with me."

Stepping inside that home weighed a lot less than before. The girl was sitting at the table with an embroidery hoop and a started work. She left her needles as soon as their eyes met, and she ran to hug him.

"It's good to see you, too," he smiled at her. Katrina let him go, but it was enough to feel her tremor, "How are you?"

"Better. But look," she held out a hand so he could see her fingers trembling, "I'm trying to embroider. It's for my nephew, but it's taking twice the time."

He remembered the blind Mother and the nun in the riot, who did not feel her legs. I could lie to you again, but I won't. He gave the piece a good look, a grey contour of a bird.

"It's very good. Is it a duck?" Alucard asked.

"It is. The kids like them," she nodded, "I like them, too."

Katrina's mother walked from a side to another in the kitchen while observing them, among pans, pots, and wooden spoons.

"The other two didn't come, sir. Why?" The lady approached to ask.

"They're hurt and tired, but under good care." Alucard smiled.

Now, please, don't ask me about my wife. He stopped himself from laughing at his own joke.

"I've got something for you. Come with me," he whispered to Katrina when her mother turned her back on them.

She nodded.

"Can I go for a walk, Mom? I'll be home early," Katrina asked.

Her mother pondered with her always worried look. "Today's a mass day, Katrina. We should go and thank for the blessing of your cure."

And that's the last thing you're going to do.

"I'll go with her, ma'am. I'll make sure she arrives home safe."

The lady considered with her head low, until she gave them a pass. She helped Katrina put on good shoes, and she said goodbye to her mother with a graceful wave. They left arm-in-arm, and Alucard noticed that it was hard for her to reach him.

"Would you like me to lower it?" He asked, laughing.

"Please, sir," she replied with the same good mood.

"You don't need to call me 'sir'. I'm younger than I look."

"How old are you?"

"I turned eighteen this year."

"It really looks like more," Katrina frowned.

"That's what people tell me," he brushed away some hair from his eye, smiling.

"Where are we going?"

"For a walk, as I said."

"But you don't know Ploiesti," she stared at him, "Mother told me you and the others are outsiders."

"I know where are we going," I actually don't. He had a moment to think, "To be honest, can you show me where's the smithy?"

She let go of his arm and stepped back twice.

"How do you know?" Katrina asked, terrified.

"You can trust me," he held out a hand, "I won't tell anyone."

The girl hesitated until she grabbed his hand, and she trembled more than before, guiding him there. They turned around the place and Rosa waited there, throwing a rock in the air, until she heard them arrive. Katrina ran towards her and they hugged with tears in their eyes.

"I can wait around here," Alucard said, "I'll leave you home later."

"It's fine, I can go back on my own," Katrina dried her face.

"I don't think your mother will be happy about it," Alucard frowned.

"I can leave her there, as a gentleman should do," Rosa laughed.

Alucard shrugged and left to the tavern.