3 March, 1890.
I should start recording the years in these journals.
Spring is beginning to arrive, though the weather here has continued to be dark and dreary. It is almost like a malignant force spreads over this land. It is hard to explain, but I can literally feel the evil force. I don't know if this land was cursed those centuries back, or what.
The small towns I stopped in are populated by people whom seem extremely wary of anyone, not just myself. Both wary and almost afraid, not only for themselves, but for others. I do not know why, as if I try to ask what is wrong, they do not answer, quickly changing the subject, as if they fear someone may be listening. They do serve food that I can somewhat taste, even though my tastes have gotten even more muted nowadays. I can barely even taste some of my favorite tarts anymore unless they are particularly richly spiced, though I found an inn of sorts that will put extra in for me. I thanked them with a spare few pieces of silver, which they were absolutely ecstatic about, given it's worth. I can now get about anything on request here, though some of the patrons still give me the 'evil eye.'
7 March.
The dreary weather has not let up. It is not cold, but rather warm and exceptionally windy. I am happy to have my large, old codex now wrapped up tightly in furs and oilcloths, well protected, and I am writing in something smaller now, which I keep safe on my person. It would be a pity if anything were to happen to my smaller books, but the large one is the one I wish to protect the most, given it's age.
The inn I am staying at is out of the way enough in a small enough place that I generally am not bothered. It is inexpensive, and two of my centuries old silver pieces were enough to get them to put me up for a rather long time, I suppose until I grow bored.
I wish to explore the countryside some. There are some impressive looking castles and structures here, once again near the Carpathians, and I almost wonder if my old abode from about four hundred years ago still remains, though I regret to say I do not remember exactly where it was, and this is a large countryside.
The mists had descended on the land this morning, and between the dark clouds and the occasional rain, it looks nearly dark even in the morning. The forest is slowly beginning to come alive again, though most of the leaves are still but buds, and the fact most of it still looks dead makes it look like it is almost from a work of horror.
I am unfazed, though I can understand why others may be afraid.
10 March.
I had to defend the town today, and I feel that a few more people fear me because of it.
A massive pack of wolves, seemingly mad but far too intelligent for their own good, attacked. One man was killed on the outside. I ran out to try to frighten off the pack, but was attacked by the alpha and his mate. With no choice, I killed them both, breaking their necks. They did not get a chance to cause serious damage to me, which could have turned out very badly.
After the two died, the rest of them disappeared into the mists. It almost feels the beasts were cursed. Perhaps the people here are not completely off in their thoughts that there is something dreadfully wrong with this land. No one knows what it is. It could be dark magick, though I am still not sure if such a thing exists. Truly, there were something wrong with those wolves for them to attack a town like that, as the beasts are generally the kind to keep away from humans unless they are starving. These wolves looked well fed, and I can attest to seeing plenty of game for them to hunt in the woods as I have explored them. They also did not look ill.
My ravens seem very uneasy, too. Much more restless than usual. They sit on my windowsill, sometimes wanting to come in, though I try to respect the owners in not having wild birds inside. I make sure to save them some extra food at least.
Going back to my story, they, the townspeople that is, seemed uneasy with the ease I was able to dispatch the two huge wolves, though they thanked me nonetheless for rescuing those that I did. I do feel like I am being watched more often, but to be sure, I am so used to that now, especially with my odd choice of head ornament, that it does not bother me.
Besides, I know they cannot hurt me anyway, even if it did bother them to the point of attacking.
I will continue to keep an eye out. I will patrol around the town at night, around the outskirts. My eyesight is keen enough to see around the dark mists. I find it rather exhilarating to walk about late at night, where I know the townspeople are terrified. At least I am making it so other watchmen can stay inside, where there is torchlight.
14 March.
I fear I may have to move on soon, as I think I have certainly scared some of the townspeople now. I have had to protect the town again, but this time, from some sort of mad criminals or some such ilk.
I do not know who they were. They seemed...possessed. Cursed. I do not know, but I am convinced at this point there are dark powers at work which I do not think many people can comprehend.
They attacked with weapons, seemingly errant. They managed to kill two watchmen, and seemed to almost have a feverish strength and fortitude about them. When the watchmen tried to use their clubs, they did not seem to falter much. However, they were definitely not like myself, as when I went on the attack, they broke apart just as easily as any other men I have fought.
As usual, I got the urge to let them hurt me, so I did. They showed no fear as their blades struck me and did nothing, but I certainly ended up going berserk after enough time. I expect it. After a certain threshold of pain, it sends me toward the berserk rage until my foes are dead.
I think the townspeople thought me just as much of a beast as these people had been. There was not much left for me to examine, unfortunately. That is one regret, I would have liked to possibly examine the men to see what drove them to their murderous rage.
Still I wonder when I will be able to get through a set of entries without having engaged in a rampage of death. I suppose this is part of my curse, perhaps being a soldier in life and having probably done some rather nasty things in the name of the church, maybe now I am, like how I wrote long ago, cursed to continue on with things. I can stop it, but the pain is too engaging. It is one of the few things that drives me on anymore. I take what I can get.
Nevertheless, after leaving the attackers in bloody and broken pieces, I was not chased off, as I prevented many more deaths, but looked upon with much unease. Some gave signs of the cross to me.
I think, to alleviate their fears, I will leave the next night. There is probably another village nearby to take me in for some time while I explore. Maybe I will take some time out in nature for awhile.
The inn owner, while wary, still supplied me with a handsome amount of food, as well as my favorite treat. They seemed almost reluctant to let me go after what just happened, and I was not being chased away, but I simply did not want the people to be concerned.
I hope that I am not leaving these people to their doom.
17 March.
I have never seen the moon at this size before without a telescope. It is gigantic, and seemingly red. It almost looks cursed, though I am intrigued by it.
Besides my birds, bats seem to be abundant in these woods. They mostly do not bother us, but it is astounding just how many there are. I said mostly as a few of them seemed to go after a raven, and the raven seemed a little confused afterward. I suppose it will be okay, if not, then it is the laws of nature. I do not own the birds, after all. They are animals who feed on blood, and it is not their fault when they find something to feed on.
I am camped this night in a think part of the forest, the mist is everywhere, and I think perhaps a normal human would have passed out from fright by now. I welcome any danger. It lets me have what little fun is allowed to me.
The weather is strange; it is halfway between warm and chill. The air is warm, but the wind blows so hard it grows chill, but the mist that hangs in the air does not add much in the way of moisture; it is almost like it is not fog, but something else.
In many decades I have not felt the possibility of magicks being real, but I certainly feel it here.
23 March.
I have moved further, and began to examine one of the abandoned castles that occasionally dot the landscape. This one is well worn down, though proved to have some rather interesting bits inside of it. As someone who comes from history, I have taken also to collecting it when I can, and I found some rather interesting tapestries and bits inside of this one, though I have no way of telling how old they are for certain.
They do seem to share some of the designs from around the 1500's, though, so I would be willing to say they are from around the time I was exploring about this area the first time. Which is very strange to write, I admit.
The mists have not subsided, and now the clouds spread across the sky as if someone is summoning them. It is so dark to travel, I had to start using a torch, as keen as my eyesight is. I decided today that I would stay at this castle for the next few days, as there are still rooms that are hidden from the elements. It even has a rookery for the ravens to come if they feel uncomfortable outside.
I want to examine this castle some more, and I would like to see what else happens with these strange patterns outdoors. I am curious to know if actual magick is involved or not.
25 March.
It is still quite dark. Even the daytimes feel darker than they should be this time of year. The wind has picked up, though the mists seem to stay.
I noticed a few things over the past two days of exploring around the area. Firstly, there are a few other castles about, which I can see when I stand on the tallest towers. One of them I swear could be occupied, though it seems like it is a bit of a journey away.
Second, the vegetation around this area seems wrong. Some of it seems stifled. The forest seems fairly dead, except for some mandrake plants, which are known by some as deadly, able to kill a person if they uproot one. While I know this is false, I know many of the people around have superstitions that make them wary of the plant.
Third, the bats and the wolves seem unusually bold here. The wolf pack that had attacked the town was like something I have never seen, and I had seen others prowling around. I was able to chase them off, but I feel that we sensed something unnatural about each other. It is not a bother if they attack me, though this group has not.
This particular castle has some interesting aspects. I found some boxes in the dungeons, filled with dirt. It was bizarre. I examined them, and it was, indeed, just dirt. I do not know why anyone would keep dirt in boxes in dungeons, but perhaps the previous occupant had some strange habits. Or perhaps it has been here awhile. It almost seemed like they were being stored. I suppose some of the people with their strange superstitions may have a reason for this. Perhaps if I can find a library I could read up on customs and beliefs, though I have not seen anything resembling one. I am tempted to head toward the castle that looks occupied, but I have no idea how long it will take me to reach it, nor do I even know how to get there. Something one sees on the horizon can look much closer than it is.
I think I will stay here awhile longer. I grow comfortable in these old castles, as I have quite a penchant for old things.
27 March.
Going into the nearest town for some supplies and to talk to some of the people, I came across a wondrous device. It is called a camera, and it is used to actually record images of people using light and chemicals. It is the most curious thing. They do not travel well, I am told, and actually getting the images onto paper is difficult and requires very careful handling, and special chemicals, but it is amazing. I hope they keep developing them.
I watched a traveling man use it on people, as he was selling the service. Some of the townspeople looked upon the device as cursed. Others were as fascinated as I. I regret to say he did not take old silver as payment, as I fear he may have thought it fake, but for that I cannot blame him.
The town is friendly mostly, though some people still look upon me with dread. One woman offered me a rosary if I was traveling out again, but I kindly declined, as I have left that part of my life behind long ago. I assured her I could take care of myself.
The mists have remained, and I am now completely convinced they are supernatural. The dark clouds have not parted, either. Storms hit now and again, and the winds are rather fierce. The mists not churning as much in the fierce winds also tells me something is strange. Why someone would want the ground cloaked in mists, I am not sure, but perhaps it is the remnants of something else.
I will go study these boxes of dirt some more. Usually dirt is just dirt, but it was obviously packed into these boxes purposefully. Perhaps I will find some trinkets of value, though I am sure my ravens would fly off with them if I left them out.
2 April.
After examining the dirt, it truly is just dirt. It is a different color than the dirt in this area, which tells me it was brought in, making it all the more intriguing. I have no way of telling where it's from, so I feel my examination stops here, but it was a fun curiosity while it lasted. More curious was that the boxes were clearly recent, no more than a year old if I could tell by their condition, as the wood was fairly plain, though still intact.
I think soon I will move on again. Perhaps I will try to examine the larger castle, or perhaps I will consider going someplace else. Farther away. Across the Atlantic Ocean. America seems like it could be a curious place to visit, the way I hear people discussing it. I have been in Europe now for seven centuries, seeing it change so much.
But because I still find myself getting weary if I do not keep my mind occupied with such activities as examining dirt, I think, perhaps, a new environment altogether can help. I know many ships travel over there, so I think after I am done here, I will head to the nearest place and begin to inquire how I may go over.
I hope my spike does not alarm too many people. I could always stow away.
I will miss my ravens though for sure. I doubt they will be able to make the trip across the ocean. Perhaps I will meet some new companions overseas.
Let us see what happens with this, shall we? At this point there is little left for me to do but attempt to keep my everlasting life something that does not turn into drudgery and desperation. Some nights are worse than others. I have managed to stave it off here, but I do feel perhaps a change of location will do me well.
10 May.
I am now located in the hold of a huge ship, heading across the Atlantic. I left from Amsterdam, which I did spend some time in since it was rather interesting. I am usually not one for larger cities, but I feel I might as well get used to them, as I think I am going to be in them much more often now.
I am on a steamship, which apparently makes the journey in perhaps a week, but of course that does not account for poor weather. I do dearly hope we do not run afoul of miserable weather, as my tomes are valuable to me. I am not worried about myself, I will probably just wake up from anything that happens and continue swimming somewhere, but the loss of my tomes would actually pain me. I would also be quite sad if I lost a few of the things I have collected over the years. But, we shall see if luck holds. These trips are surprisingly safe.
My ravens, naturally, did not come along; I am sure they will be fine. It is not like I have the same ravens over the centuries. I sometimes think about if they are of the same family line. I am sure I have probably thought about it more than they did. But I am sure they will find another person to follow if they wish, and I am sure I will meet some more when I get to America. We will be pulling into New York harbor, and I am told that the city is bigger than anything that I have ever seen, so this should prove intriguing.
I hope my spike does not alarm too many people there. I believe my mannerisms and ways of dress may be slightly out of date, though I have usually not bothered keeping up with various fashions.
It is time for me to explore my home for the next week. The people here are nice enough, looking quite hopeful to try something new. Most of them keep their distance, though they are amicable enough. I will return likely after I get to see what awaits me for the next chapter of my seemingly endless life. If it brings me more than drudgery, I welcome it.
–
A/N: Though much of this story uses historical accounts of things, it doesn't mean the entire story is. It is based, after all, on Guilty Gear, which also uses some actual events of the past(like the Crusades and such), but with healthy doses of it's own fiction. I thought calling out Dracula, since that is what this story was sort of influenced by, would be fun. (The dates actually line up before the novel begins, which is in early May.) I had to figure out how perhaps Raven would reach where America is for the first time, and decided this would be a fun way to go about it.